Thirty-six. Married. Two children, ages nine and five.

“Where is he now?” she asked.

“He’s being held and isolated at K. Parton Laboratories.”

The very lab she’d just vacated. “Alive or dead?”

“Alive.”

“To your knowledge, did he have contact with the Schön or any of the infected women?”

“We don’t know. We haven’t been able to connect him with either and we haven’t been able to get any answers out of him.” Anger laced Estap’s tone. He was not used to failure.

Why did he want the information so badly? He had no interest in saving human lives, of that she was certain. She could think of only three things that did interest him: money, power, and control. What did he plan to do with the Schön?

“Have you considered allowing the A.I.R. agent to talk to the man? His file lauds his ability to gain answers.”

“Yes, we’ve considered it,” was the only reply.

Which told her nothing, but she did not press the issue. “You should bring in all of the people the victim has been in contact with. Perhaps one of them managed to pass the virus to him.”

“He’s gay. Like I said, though, we can’t connect him with the Schön or the female victims. That doesn’t mean he didn’t get it from one of them, it just means we can’t rule out other means.”

She rolled that through her mind. “Okay, so. There’s a chance he had sexual intercourse with one of the Schön, thereby passing the virus onto him. Which would mean that fertility isn’t an issue. That doesn’t mean Nolan will be attracted to me or even want me.”

“No, it doesn’t. However, because Nolan expressed remorse about the deaths of those women, we think that if you inform him that he can screw you without having to worry about killing you, he might be more inclined to accept you.”

Her stomach twisted. No. No! Don’t say a word. “Is that my mission or do you want me to bring him in?”

Estap shrugged. “Your ultimate goal is to discover the location of his so-called brethren. However necessary. If you do, you are to kill as many as possible. If you can’t, you are to bring Nolan in.”

Sweat trickled down her back. “Bringing him in might prove impossible. The man can disappear at will.”

“As to that.” Estap punched in a code at the left side of his desk and the top right drawer opened. He withdrew a thick, dull necklace. The links appeared stiff and unbendable, leaving no gaps. “This should help.”

Estap held out his hand and she claimed the necklace. Heavy, unbendable, as she’d thought. Warm. “Where did you get it?”

“I have connections. A.I.R. doesn’t even have one of those, as it’s still in the experimental stages.”

What the hell was inside it, then? “Am I supposed to wear it?”

“No. You’re supposed to collar him. We’re hoping that the electromagnetic pulses from the metal will keep his body from dematerializing.”

Ah. She nodded in understanding and placed the necklace on top of the folder. Sometimes the only way to distract or relax a man enough, or to even get close enough to him, was to get naked with him. Just like Estap wanted.

If she slept with another man, she would lose Jaxon forever.

You’ve already lost him.

Logically, she knew that. But hope was a silly thing, just as she’d always known, and she didn’t want to completely destroy the dream that maybe, one day, she and Jaxon could be together again. Would be together. That hope could only lead to disappointment, but she had no other reason to get herself out of bed each day.

“What kind of time frame am I operating under?” she asked.

“Everything needs to be done yesterday.”

“Understood.” One day I’m going to cut out your heart. The thought swam through her mind, and she nearly grinned.

His lips thinned into a grim line. “Do not disappointment me this time, Le’Ace.”

An underlying threat of punishment hung in the air. As if she didn’t know. As if she didn’t live with the knowledge on a daily basis. “I won’t.” After I cut out your heart, I’ll cleave the head from your body.

Estap’s phone buzzed, disrupting the uneasy silence that had developed between them.

Frowning, he glanced at the number and waved his fingers at the door.

She was dismissed. You’re going to die begging for the final blow.

The phone buzzed again as she stood. Like this, she was at eye-level with all the plaques and photos adorning his walls. He’d attended private school and an Ivy League college. He’d been military, considered a brave solider and natural leader.

No one else knew what lurked underneath his confident, affable persona. To him, she was nothing, a fly. A rug to wipe his feet upon.

The phone buzzed again.

She hadn’t moved, she realized. What was wrong with her lately? Never before had she withdrawn into her mind so much, losing touch with her surroundings. She turned on her heel.

There were two exits in Estap’s office. One led to the lobby and his administrative assistant, aka current lover. The other led down a private corridor, hiding those who passed through from prying eyes.

As always, she took the private exit.

“Senator Estap,” she heard, and then his voice faded completely.

The hallway was empty, silver, and narrow, and her footsteps echoed a kind of drumbeat of doom. Jaxon would be searching for Nolan, too. They might even cross paths like she craved. Could she handle it?

Bigger question: what would she be doing if—when—he showed up?

CHAPTER 17

Three days later

The plan to capture Nolan was finally in motion.

Jaxon sat in the corner of a bustling restaurant, shadowed by faux green plants and the constantly opening and closing kitchen door. Waiters and waitresses buzzed back and forth. Chattering voices echoed, melding into one loud tolling bell. Murky light flickered from candles, and those candles seemed to be the spacious building’s only source of illumination.

Not expensive or exclusive, but not a cheap dive either, the Pearly Gates fed an eclectic mix of human and alien, young and old. Only thing the patrons had in common that Jaxon could tell was that they were middle class. If he had to guess, he’d say the bulk of people worked construction, in education, or were in the military.

Jaxon blended in perfectly. He wore a cropped black hairpiece, very armed forces. He wore enough rubber makeup to cover his scar and slightly realign his facial features so that, hopefully, Nolan would not recognize him without careful study. His shirt was cut off at the shoulders to reveal the “God and Country” tattoo he’d colored in a few hours ago.

Beside him sat Mia. He watched the front door, and Mia watched the kitchen while they pretended to be a couple, like any other couple, eating dinner out because they were too tired to cook after a hard day’s work.

Dallas and Devyn had a table on the other side of the restaurant. Jaxon planned to tease Dallas about being the alien’s best girl later. Eden, golden Raka that she was, drew too much attention, so they’d left her inside the surveillance van with Kyrin, who also drew too much attention.

Kyrin had money, probably more than Jaxon, and was the former king of his world. Women would have recognized the otherworlder and fawned over him, and then Mia would have whipped out her pyre-gun and killed them all.

The woman had a temper.

Lucius scouted the sidewalks and surrounding area. The former government assassin might be able to expertly alter his appearance, but there was no hiding the I’d-rather-kill-you-than-talk-to-you gleam in his eyes, which would have scared all the little kids.

“Give me a test vocal,” Eden said in his ear. “We had static and lost the signal for several seconds.”

While he could hear her clearly, he knew no one else could. Well, no one but Mia, Dallas, and Devyn, who wore tiny, hidden earpieces as well.

“What do you want to drink, sweetheart?” he asked Mia, leaning into her like a devoted husband.

“Dr. Chatty, you’re clear,” Eden said.

“I’d love a Coke,” Mia told him.

“Ballerina Barbie, you’re clear,” Eden said.

Jaxon pressed his lips together to cut off his smile. A spark of fury blazed in Mia’s bright blue eyes. He waved the waitress over and placed their drink order.

“Know what you want to eat?” the woman asked.

“We need a few more minutes, don’t we, Barbie?” he said, and the woman padded away in exasperation. They’d been difficult customers. Mia pinched him under the table.

Eden had given everyone in their group nicknames; Jaxon figured Mia deserved hers. Once, years ago, a new recruit had strutted through the A.I.R. doors telling everyone to call him Mad Dog. Mia had immediately named him Kitty, and that’s the moniker that had stuck. So if Eden wanted to call her Ballerina Barbie, he’d climb on board that train and do it, too.

In his ear, Jaxon heard Dallas say, “I’m freakin’ starving, man.”

“Chuckles, you’re clear.”

Devyn replied, “I’m so hungry I could eat that woman over there.” He pointed to a busty brunette.

As if sensing his scrutiny, the woman glanced up and caught the alien’s attention. Devyn waved. Returning the gesture, she bit her bottom lip. She was a pretty thing with dark hair and dark eyes, and she radiated sensuality.

The man in front of her, probably her boyfriend, followed the direction of her gaze and scowled.

Dallas popped Devyn in the back of the head.

Frowning, Devyn returned his attention to where it belonged. “What?”

“Pay attention to your own date, asswad.”

“Casanova, you’re clear,” Eden said. “Recording…now.”

Jaxon’s ultimate goal was to capture Nolan. However, he had no idea how to trap the alien and prevent him from dematerializing. That being the case, he planned to record this particular Schön’s voice, no static, no question it was him like before, enabling Jaxon to follow him until the end of time. If he so desired.

Drinks arrived a few minutes later, and he and Mia placed their order, purposefully choosing the items requiring the most bake time.

“He’s come here four nights in a row. What if he decides to skip tonight?” Mia asked with a smile, as though she were commenting on the weather.

“He won’t skip.” At least, Jaxon didn’t think so. “He knows how to hide. Obviously. He revealed his location. He’s decided it’s time to talk.”

“At least we know he’s not recording us,” she muttered.

That had been Jaxon’s first thought, actually. Nolan might profess to want to help, but it was hard to trust a species responsible for the destruction of several planets. And so Jaxon and the others had spent hours casing the building, using their tools to search for illegal cameras and microphones.

They’d found nothing.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Mia said, stroking her butter knife like she would her lover.

“Remind me never to piss you off.”

Mia leaned into him, her mouth right at his empty ear so that none of the other agents could hear her. “The only thing you could do to piss me off is date the murdering whore.”

He nearly snapped his fork in half. “Say that again, and I’ll stab you.” The words emerged through a tight smile.

“Where has your loyalty gone? Answer that, at least.”

He merely glared at her. Once the Schön were destroyed, Jaxon had already decided to devote all of his time and energy to finding and freeing Mishka. He was tempted to go after her now, the case forgotten, but his reason for not doing so still stood.

He didn’t want her ordered near the Schön.

His fake smile turned feral and he couldn’t help it. Mishka’s safety came before her freedom. Whether that was wrong or not.

Mishka was his. She belonged with him, and he belonged to her. Every day that passed, that knowledge became clearer. He wanted her moved in, her clothes in his closet, her toothbrush beside his on the bathroom counter. He wanted to wake up to her every morning and make love to her in every room in his house.

“Relax,” Mia muttered. “I’ll leave your girlfriend out of this.”

“She’s been through a lot, okay? Things you don’t know, don’t understand. So don’t talk about her.”

“Whatever. Do you love her or something?”

Was this love?

He still didn’t think so. He told himself he couldn’t love a woman who could be ordered to kill him, who could do it without hesitation. But that seemed to matter less and less. He told himself he couldn’t love a woman who could be ordered to fuck a million other men right in front of him. But that, too, seemed to matter less and less.

Underneath the orders to kill and to fuck was an emotionally scarred woman who craved affection and acceptance. What every human craved. She’d been denied both from infancy. She probably feared those orders as much as he did, which was why she had pushed him away and denied herself.

As always, thinking about Mishka’s dire circumstances filled him with fury. Not with her but with her boss. Fucking Estap, he thought darkly. I know it’s you. You’re the one. No one else had their hands in the cookie jar. Soon. Oh, yes, soon they would have a reckoning.

“Uh, yo, Dr. Chatty,” Mia said dryly, drawing his attention. “You going to pay attention anytime soon?”

He shook his head and looked over at her. She was smearing butter over a piece of bread that had not been on the table a few minutes ago. The waitress must have brought it.