I’m a sucky agent. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
“I asked you if you love her, decided I didn’t want to know, then told you that you’re a lame-ass date.”
“But you love me anyway,” he told her, and he knew it was true. When the time came, he’d set her straight about Mishka without betraying Mishka. To hurt Mishka was to hurt him, and that’s all there was to it.
“I loved the old you,” she said. “This new you I’m not so sure about.”
“Please. You’d be lost without me. Only five men on this planet can stand you, and I happen to be one of them.”
Her lush, red lips edged into a genuine smile, lighting her entire face. “Damn, but you’re right.”
She possessed a delicate beauty, soft, almost fragile. His first year on the force, Jaxon had asked her out. She’d turned him down flat-out with a disgusted “Hell, no” that made him laugh every time he remembered it.
She was good for controlling his ego, if nothing else.
The double doors pushed open. Jaxon clasped Mia’s hand and leaned back in his seat—relaxed, casual—pulling her knuckles to his mouth as if he hadn’t a care. As if she were the center of his world and he had no other thought but romancing her. Would this be Nolan?
A fiftysomething human male sailed inside, a thirtysomething human female at his side.
When would Nolan get here?
A moment later, the waitress arrived with their food. Heaping bowls of pasta alla Pecoraro. The scent of hearty sauce drifted to his nose, and he inhaled deeply. His mouth watered, though he wasn’t hungry.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“We’re good,” he said, and the waitress wandered off.
Mia forked a bite, chewed, swallowed. “This is tasty shit. I’ll be coming back for sure.”
He agreed. This was his first time here, but it wouldn’t be his last.
“So,” she said after consuming another bite. Her gaze shifted to the kitchen door, and he knew someone was exiting. When she continued speaking without pause, he knew it was merely a member of the staff. “Your girl gave you some weird information I’m not sure I understand.”
He knew the girl in question was the infected human he’d interviewed. “I’m not sure I understand, either.” Unless the virus somehow allowed infected humans to communicate with one another through their minds.
Seemed impossible. But impossible things happened every day. Aliens, once considered something of myth and fiction, now walked the Earth. Dallas had once been resurrected from the dead. Mia had a steady boyfriend who didn’t want to kill her.
Only way to confirm the possibility of mind-talk, however, was to join the infected and thereby the conversation. No thanks. If the women could communicate with each other, could they also communicate with the Schön?
And if they could, what were they telling the aliens about A.I.R.?
So many questions, so few answers.
Two waiters holding large trays of food passed him. Jaxon performed a quick, stealthy scan of the restaurant, looking for anything out of the ordinary. All was still in order. People were still eating, drinking, and laughing. There was a line of patrons winding to the ladies’ bathroom, and there was a small mass congregated in front of the doors, waiting for a table.
“I think we’ve spotted him,” Eden suddenly said in his ear.
Both Jaxon and Mia stiffened, looked at each other.
“If it’s him, he just turned the corner down the street and is heading your way.”
“You sure?” Mia asked, though she directed the question at Jaxon as if they were still in the middle of a stimulating conversation.
“I was told to watch for an alien that was handsome beyond belief and tempted me to leave the love of my life, so yeah, I’m pretty sure.” The last was uttered with a dreamy sigh.
“I’ll kill him,” Lucius growled in the background.
He must have gone back to the van, Jaxon thought.
Eden gave a delighted little laugh. “He’s not alone, kiddies.”
“How many?” Jaxon asked, a ball of dread sinking to the pit of his stomach.
“Three. Two human men and a human female.”
Under the table, his hands curled into fists. No. Fuck no! She wouldn’t have; she couldn’t have found Nolan first. “Describe,” he managed to grit out.
“Tall, muscled and—”
“Not the men.” His gaze latched onto Mia, who was watching him intently as she forked another mouthful of pasta. She did not look smug. She looked murderous.
“A prostitute, from the appearance of her. Thin, wearing a napkin instead of a dress and a fake-fur jacket, even though it’s summer. Booted heels the size of a mountain. Without them, she’s probably…five ten, five eleven. With them she’s a giant. Short black hair, cut like a boy’s. Tan skin. Dark eyes, I think.”
Wrong hair, wrong eyes, wrong skin tone. Right height. And he knew well how gifted Mishka was at disguises.
“Rings?”
Pause. “Three on one hand. Two on the other. I might not recognize the woman, but I recognize the rings.”
Shit. His dread intensified.
“Entering the restaurant in five. Four. Three. Two.”
The doors swung open and yep, in stepped Nolan. He looked the same as before, too handsome to be mortal, only there were dark shadows under his eyes. He had his arm slung around the prostitute’s shoulders, his big body blocking her from Jaxon’s view. Every nerve ending he possessed was on alert as he waited. Move!
Nolan spoke to the hostess.
Earlier, they’d hidden a mic there.
“We now have his voice in the database,” Eden said excitedly. “Maybe we can use it to track the others. Maybe there are similarities in their voice frequencies.” Crackling static, then, “He’s requested his usual table in the center.”
Jaxon watched as two human males took residence behind Nolan, their expressions leery, guarded as they scanned.
Hired protection?
Nolan had to know A.I.R. would be here. That’s what the alien wanted, after all. Also, he had to know two humans would mean nothing. Pyre-fire would cut through them like a knife through silk.
Nolan didn’t glance around or seem concerned in the least as the hostess led him deeper into the restaurant. That worried Jaxon. Could mean the alien knew something he didn’t. What?Nolan kept the prostitute hidden, shielding her by keeping her slightly behind him and to the side. Purposefully? Women turned to stare at him. Even the hostess was not immune. She cast him lingering glances over her shoulder. Her nipples were hard, her limbs shaky. Several times she tripped over her own feet and bumped into tables.
Then, the group reached their table and Nolan moved out of the way.
Jaxon found himself staring at Mishka. His heart slammed against his ribs, bones nearly cracking. She laughed up at something Nolan had said, revealing perfect white teeth.
Teeth Jaxon had licked past to get inside her mouth.
Jealousy blended with shock and arousal.
“Don’t,” Mia suddenly said, obviously sensing his need to stand and tackle Nolan. More, his need to gather Mishka in his arms, hold her tight, and never let go.
How long had the two been together? What had they discussed?
What the hell had they done?
CHAPTER 18
Le’Ace claimed her seat at Nolan’s table.
Jaxon’s hot gaze bored into her, igniting all kinds of physical reactions. Reactions she couldn’t hide. The pulse thundered in her neck. Like the waitress’s, her nipples hardened to tiny points. Her skin flushed.
Though Jaxon had thickened his jawline, probably with rubber, lengthened his nose to a hawklike beak, and changed his eye and hair color, she’d recognized him the moment she’d stepped inside the restaurant. Her knees had almost buckled, her breath had caught in her throat, and heat had blossomed inside her chest to an unbearable degree.
He exuded a unique masculinity that she and the chip would probably always be able to pinpoint, no matter where they were or who they were with. More than that, there was no hiding the savage, possessive vibe he was now throwing her way.
Only one man had ever looked at her like that.
“You’re shaking,” Nolan said at her side, and he truly sounded concerned. He settled in his chair, his “friends,” men he’d plucked off the street and paid with jewels he’d stolen from the now fallen planet of Raka to guard him, remaining at the far wall to scope the building unimpeded. “Is he here?”
He. Jaxon. Gulping, she moved her gaze from one hand to the other. Sure enough. They were shaking like leaves in the wind. Control the goddamn shaking, she commanded the chip.
The tremors are your body’s way of releasing emotion. If they cease, the emotion will spike. Proceed with the cessation?
She ground her teeth together. No.
“Yes,” she told Nolan, supplying information he already possessed. “He’s here.” Perhaps it would have been better if the memory wipe had worked. Being without Jaxon caused the very world she’d fought to build to crumble, just as she’d expected. Only, the reality was much more devastating.
Nolan’s sensual lips lifted in a slow smile. “Finally.”
“I’m counting five other agents.”
His smile did not fade. “I only counted four.”
“You’re forgetting the van parked down the street. There has to be at least one other agent inside. Probably two or three.”
“Ah, the van.” He nodded, thoughtful. “That’s right.”
“We’re probably being recorded right now.”
He shrugged, unconcerned.
Cocky little shit. He viewed himself as invincible, women his to command. But that mind-set had a fatal flaw: Le’Ace. Oh, he knew her identity and knew she belonged to Jaxon. He simply considered his appeal greater and assumed she would eventually fall for him. Although, she suspected, he didn’t want his appeal to be greater. He wanted her to prove she loved Jaxon.
That’s what everything came down to for Nolan. Love.
He’d known who she was since she’d approached him three days ago. But then, her disguise wasn’t, and had not been, for his benefit. She had many different personas in this town, and she had to be careful which ones she showed in public. If the wrong person saw her as Marie or Clarisse or Tess or any number of other women, she could be followed, shot at, or even be forced to retire an identity she’d spent years erecting.
She sighed. Nolan expected her to convince Jaxon to help him or ultimately save him herself. Unless he’d tricked her, which was always a possibility.
“What can I get you to drink?” their waiter asked.
She wanted a shot of vodka to steady her nerves. Can I handle it?
You’ve lost three pounds in the last week. You haven’t eaten today. That much alcohol will render you vulnerable and ineffective.
“Min-water,” she said, disappointed.
After Nolan placed his order, she leaned forward and said to the waiter, “Don’t look, but there’s a gentleman behind you with a ‘God and Country’ tattoo and a pretty brunette at his side. Know who I’m talking about?”
The man nodded.
“Take him a flaming cock’s tail, compliments of me.”
With a nod, the waiter was off.
“The brunette,” Nolan said, tracing a finger over his water glass. “Who is she?”
“Just another agent,” Le’Ace lied.
“Are you jealous of her?”
Jealous of Mia Snow, bitch extraordinaire? “Yes,” she admitted. There was no reason to lie about that. “I know her. She and I have history.” And it wasn’t pretty. Mia hated her and had every right to do so.
Long ago, Le’Ace had been ordered to execute Mia’s friend to show the other A.I.R. recruits the consequences of betrayal, intentional or not. Le’Ace had made the mistake of reading the girl’s file first; the troubled past, the sexual abuse, had tugged at her heart, for she’d understood the girl’s need to love and be loved and how easily that need could lead someone astray.
She had begged her boss at the time, Estap’s father, to spare the girl.
He’d refused so she’d begged some more. In the end, her continued refusal earned her severe punishment. He’d used the chip to shoot painful electrical pulses through her brain, and those pulses had laid her flat for days. By the third day, she’d practically begged to kill the girl.
Some nights Le’Ace still cursed her weakness and the fact that she’d given in so quickly, so easily. She should have fought harder, should have died rather than do another evil deed.
Not too late.
The stray thought seemed innocent. She knew it wasn’t and blinked in surprise. All these years, she’d done everything necessary to stay alive, even knowing the world would be a better place without her. But she’d lived because she’d hoped for a single moment of love, a single moment of peace.
As of a week ago, she’d experienced the first. With Jaxon. There was no denying that any longer. He’d held her in his arms and he’d pleasured her beyond imagining. He’d given her joy in a lifetime of pain. She’d felt loved, though he probably didn’t love her. She’d felt cherished.
She could die happily now. And she could take Estap with her. The realization rocked her. After fighting so diligently, could she at last give up?
“You all right?” Nolan asked, cutting into her thoughts.
Later. She’d think about death and Estap later. The world would be better without them, that much she already knew. “Fine,” she managed, her voice shaking just as badly as her hands. “I’m fine.”