“She saved my life,” Jaxon said. He stayed as close to the truth as possible. Less chance of a slipup that way. “Pulled me from the wreck, made sure I got medical attention.”

Nolan frowned. “So you have not known each other long?”

“Sometimes it only takes a second,” Jaxon said. Sadly, the words were not a lie. One look at Le’Ace and he’d become an obsessed man. From the beginning, it hadn’t just been her delectable appearance that drew him, but her complexities, the mystery of her.

Nolan’s frown eased. “You speak true.” Surprised?

“You have a girlfriend?” Le’Ace asked the alien, once again staring at him as if she were enraptured.

Jaxon’s punishment, he supposed, for not claiming to love her. “Jane,” he warned.

She batted the long length of her dark lashes innocently. “What?”

“Trying to make me jealous is not wise.”

“Trying?” She laughed, and the sound of it was airy, though she could not hide the sharp gleam in her eyes.

Nolan, too, laughed. “You will never be bored with her, will you?”

“No.” She was as high maintenance as a woman could be, more so than Cathy, yet he wasn’t running in the opposite direction this time. He constantly ran toward her, trying to piece together the puzzle of her. “Unfortunately.”

Nolan’s grin grew wider and wider, until it stretched over his entire face. “I had wondered how long it would take A.I.R. to come to me. I had wondered what agents they would send after me. I am pleased with their selection.”

At the mention of A.I.R., Jaxon stiffened, unable to control or stop the action. Nolan knew then. Had known all along. Le’Ace, too, had stiffened and stilled.

Jaxon could deny it, could act confused. In the next instant, however, he decided Nolan was too intelligent to believe him. He’d have to attack. As he stealthily reached for the knife strapped to his waist, he said, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you running from us? You intentionally sought us out, didn’t you?”

Nolan pierced him with a look of pure determination. “Why am I here? Let’s just say I’m weary of my life and my brothers’ actions. Why aren’t I running? The same reason applies. Did I intentionally seek you? Yes.”

“Your brothers?” Jaxon asked, tackling one thing at a time. “By race?”

A nod. “They are the other men you are after. The men killing your women.”

“And you, what? Want to help us find them?” Le’Ace laughed without humor.

“What I want to do and what I am going to do are not the same. So yes, I will help you.”

Le’Ace rolled her eyes. “Please. I might have been stupid enough to think I’d tricked you, but I’m not stupid enough to believe you’re going to help us out of the goodness of your decayed heart.”

“Prove you want to help us. Start by answering some of our questions,” Jaxon said, ignoring Le’Ace’s outburst. He would rather do this without her, but knew there would be no getting rid of her. “Why are you infecting our women?”

Nolan released a mournful sigh. “We cannot help ourselves.”

The table shook as Le’Ace slapped her hands on the surface. “Bullshit.”

Jaxon shot her a dark look. Calm down, he projected.

Now she ignored him. “Tell us where the others are, these brothers of yours. That’s the best way to help us.”

Nolan laughed bitterly, revealing teeth that looked a little sharper than they had a moment ago. “You think it’s that simple? You think you can waltz into their midst and take them captive?”

“Yes.”

Jaxon gripped the hilt of his blade and slid it atop his knee. He twisted his body ever so slightly, positioning himself just in front of Le’Ace. If Nolan made a move in her direction, the alien would die. No question, no hesitation. But a moment later, Jaxon realized Le’Ace had done the same. That she’d had her earlier outburst so that she could better reach into her boot and withdraw a knife. She was subtly moving in front of Jaxon. To protect him.

There was no time to ponder his unadulterated response of shock and pleasure. Nolan pushed to his feet. Jaxon and Le’Ace did the same. No longer trying to hide his blade, he allowed the silver to flash against the bar’s light.

Le’Ace one-upped him, aiming a pyre-gun at Nolan’s heart. She fired. The blue stun beam flew over the alien’s shoulder as he ducked.

Nolan laughed. “We’ll meet again. Of that I have no doubt.” He stepped backward, toward the wall.

“Stop,” Le’Ace shouted, firing again.

He managed to avoid the second azure beam, as well. When his back met the silver stone, he simply disappeared. There one moment, gone the next.

CHAPTER 10

That certainly went well,” Le’Ace said as she tossed her weapons onto her nightstand. Normally, she cleaned them and placed them carefully in their holders whether she’d used them or not. They were her best friends, her only friends. This time, however, she was simply too pissed to care.

Silent, stoic, Jaxon hobbled to the bed and fell onto the edge. She hated that stoicism more than ever. Wanted to smash the unemotional mask into so many pieces he’d never be able to adopt it again. She’d much preferred his vehemence inside the bar. He’d been so wonderfully human, as human as she’d always wanted to be.

He braced his hands on his knees and watched her. He’d occupied that exact position before, she remembered, and seeing him there again morphed threads of her anger into arousal. He hadn’t been stoic then. He hadn’t been silent. He’d been wild and tender, a pleasure giver.

He’d been desire.

“You have nothing to say for yourself?” She wanted to stomp her foot like a child and barely restrained the urge. “Why don’t you tell me what you thought you could accomplish, hmm? Following me to the bar was stupid!”

Still, he remained quiet.

“There were cameras there, Jaxon. There were agents watching and recording our every move.”

“I know,” he finally said. His flat tone did not betray a hint of his emotions.

Frustration clawed at her as she began to pace in front of him. Back and forth, back and forth, until he was a dark slash at her side. “Do you have any idea what kind of punishment I’ll be given for this?”

His back straightened, and his stare became a hot brand, probing. “Punishment?”

Of course he’d latch onto that little admission, the one thing she didn’t want to explain. “One, I allowed you to escape. Two, I allowed the otherworlder to fucking disappear. Yes, I’ll be punished.”

“Well, you couldn’t have stopped the otherworlder, and we both know he would have disappeared whether I’d been there or not. He knew exactly who and what you were in a single glance. Now, what do you mean punished? By whom? Your boss? Daddy?” The single word dripped with sarcasm. “What can he do? Spank you?”

She scrubbed a hand down her face, the bands of her rings digging into her skin. Jaxon had no idea. Had no concept of what could—and would—be done to her. Part of her suddenly wanted to tell him. The other part of her demanded absolute silence. Always silence. To speak of the things she’d endured over the years was to share her deepest humiliation with another.

“Le’Ace,” Jaxon said. Now he sounded concerned. “Who will punish you? What will they do?”

The resonance of her own breathing, shallow and rough, filled her ears. For a moment, she lost touch with reality. Present bled into past, images flashing through her mind. A dark, dank cell. Loneliness. Pain. Needles. Tests. Oh, God, the tests. There’d been so many.

As a little girl, she’d spent every spare moment praying for a brother or a sister to rescue her. Parents, not so much. Her first bosses had been, in essence, her fathers. They had created her from carefully selected DNA—human, animal, alien, she wasn’t sure what parts of her were what—merging the bits and pieces they desired and discarding the rest. As she’d grown, they’d done their best to discard her character weaknesses, as well.

They’d hoped for perfection, someone cold yet malleable.

When she’d demonstrated anything less than what they desired, she’d been locked up to “think about” her actions, or sent on a job they knew she would despise. It was part of her conditioning, she’d always been told. The best part: they thought she should thank them for putting her back on the right path.

A bitter laugh escaped her. Once, she’d been ordered to bring a target in for questioning. He’d fired at her; she’d fired back, meaning to nail him in the shoulder. He’d tripped, realigning his body, and ended up taking the blow straight to his heart. He’d died on the way to the hospital. For that “crime,” she’d been ordered to screw information out of her next target. That way, she wouldn’t accidentally kill him.

Once, she’d jumped from a building while chasing an other-worlder and twisted her ankle, slowing her down. Because of that, the alien escaped her. When she returned to the lab, Le’Ace was forced to learn how to fight and track other-worlders with broken bones. And yes, the only way to learn was to have her bones broken and be thrown into the wild.

What would Estap do to her for this?

Of all her owners, he was the worst. She didn’t have proof, but she knew Estap’s father had killed her creators to take over her “care.” They’d died too close together, too many accidents to be written off. Estap Senior had been a top-level government official and had stumbled upon her file, deciding she would be an asset. At the time, Estap Junior had been low-level, trying to work his way up.

When his father died, she’d discovered she’d been left to him in the will. Like a house or a car. Immediately she’d been put to work to advance the bastard’s career. He’d tasked her with killing innocents who stood in his way. He’d had her steal his future wife’s savings so the woman would be more inclined to marry.

And now, here Le’Ace was. Still a pawn. Would Estap tell her to kill Jaxon for getting in the way? Remove her from this case completely? Command her to find Nolan and allow the alien to infect her so that she could be studied? Viruses and bacteria did not live long inside of her, bless those implanted particles. But again, she found herself wondering if Nolan’s virus would overpower them. She found herself wondering if she would be infected, tested, observed.

Breath caught in her throat, burning, blistering. Black and gold spots winked over her vision. The erratic pants in her ears became discordant bells. A goddamn panic attack, she realized as her diaphragm shuddered, petrified.

“Le’Ace!” Jaxon barked. His voice boomed past the blood-roar. “Mishka!”

“I’ll be all right in a moment,” she managed to push out her swollen throat. Dizziness slapped at her mind, her thoughts soon spinning out of control. Death, destruction, pain, darkness. Breathe, goddamn it. In. Out. “I just…I haven’t…done this in a long time. I just…need a moment.”

Overriding system block. Emotional overload. You must calm.

No shit. But knowing what she needed to do did not help. Panic continued to cascade through her, intensifying, growing, blooming. Her limbs shook so forcefully she felt as if she were having a convulsion. Her mouth dried, leaving giant balls of cotton. Her blood froze, yet her skin heated to a blaze. Vaguely she thought she heard Jaxon call her name again. Then again.

Calm. Now.

“I…can’t.” She couldn’t breathe anymore, not even a slight puff. Why do I fight death? Why? The world would be a better place without me. There’d be no more pain, no more jobs.

No more Jaxon.

Something strong and warm suddenly banded around her waist—Jaxon, she realized. Sweet Jaxon. But it was too late. Panic had already battered down every defense she possessed, consuming her. Her skin continued to heat and her blood continued to freeze, and the two temperatures created a wild storm inside her.

Shutting down in five…four…three…two…

Her entire world blackened into nothing.

Jaxon carried Mishka’s limp body to the bed and gently laid her down. His own ravaged body had reached its limits, but he paid it no heed. A few minutes ago, he’d wanted nothing more than a nap, ten thousand painkillers, and his hands wrapped around this woman’s pretty neck.

All three needs had vanished the moment he’d seen Mishka pale. Mishka. He’d called her by her first name only a few times, yet it was now branded soul-deep and he could think of her no other way, even though he’d tried. Le’Ace was too distant, too impersonal.

When she’d paled, her skin had become so pallid he’d seen the blue veins underneath. So many veins, more than most humans possessed. Terror had glowed like twin stars in her beautiful eyes. Lines of tension had branched from her mouth. And then she’d begun wheezing, as if she couldn’t breathe.

What had caused such an intense reaction?

Concerned, he stretched out beside her and propped his head on his elbow, staring down at her. With the softest of touches, he smoothed the strawberry-blonde tresses from her sweat-glistened face.

Her lush lips were pursed, and there were four teeth marks in her bottom lip where she’d clearly chomped. Her lashes were devoid of mascara, yet so long they cast those spiky shadows on her perfect cheeks. She’d never replaced the earrings, so her lobes were bare.

Golden lamplight shone over her, illuminating the purity of her skin. Thankfully, color was already returning, leaving a sweet rose blush. He placed her at twenty-five or twenty-six, making her roughly six years younger than him. She possessed no age lines, no spots from the increasingly damaging sun.