A pause, another sigh. “Fine. I’ll call her and tell her what’s going on. I can’t promise you anything, though, so don’t get your hopes up. She’s been as unpredictable as you lately.”
Probably because they were both bonded to the same Arcadian, but Dallas didn’t mention that. No one but Mia, Dallas, and Kyrin, the alien responsible, knew. Dallas preferred to keep it that way. No reason to solidify what everyone probably already suspected, thereby intensifying their distrust of him.
“Just to prepare you,” he said, “I’m not giving up. I will find Jaxon.”
Jack stared at him for a long while. There was a mix of pride and regret in his eyes. Finally, he ran his tongue over his teeth. “You’re stubborn, have I ever told you that? Kicking you into next week wouldn’t be good enough.” He turned and flipped through the numbers on his holoindex. When he found what he was looking for, he muttered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He picked up his cell unit and pushed a series of buttons. “I just sent you the number for a new agency. It’s run by two former shadows. Eden Black and Lucius Adaire. They once worked for the government agency that has Jaxon and might know a way around some of the red tape. You did not get their number from me. Understand?”
This was one of the many reasons Dallas loved his boss. “Understand.”
“Now get out of here. You’ve caused my ulcer to flare.”
Grinning, Dallas pushed to his feet. Immediately he regretted the action and lost his smile. Another headache slammed past his temples and straight into his brain. The pain was so excruciating, his knees buckled and he fell straight back into the chair. Shit, once again he couldn’t breathe.
Jack might have asked him a question, but all he could hear was the loud roar of blood in his ears.
The office around him faded, his eyesight completely gone. He was suddenly trapped inside his own mind, no way out. Shouldn’t have cut that cord. He laughed bitterly, or he thought he did; no sound emerged. Images began flashing through his head. He saw a beautiful, golden-skinned Rakan and a human male who looked capable of murder, holding a bucking Jaxon down. Dallas was screaming at them, then racing away a moment later.
This hadn’t happened yet, he realized. He’d done no such thing.
The Rakan and the human were covered in soot and seemed weakened, but still they held firm. Someone stood off to the side. Watching? Dallas couldn’t see the person, only knew that he or she was there.
At the far end of a hallway was a brunette. She, too, was dirty. Bleeding. She was crouched on her knees, her eyes glazed, as if she were drugged. Her features were conflicted. Decisions, decisions sang through his mind. Then he realized the brunette had a decision to make. What, he didn’t know.
Next he saw petite, dark-haired Mia holding a gun to the brunette’s head. “She’s going to kill you!” Mia yelled to Jaxon.
The brunette laughed as if she hadn’t a care. “She’s right, Jaxon.”
Jaxon continued to buck wildly, screaming and screaming. Those screams echoed through Dallas’s mind, making him cringe, nearly making him gag.
Jaxon finally battled his way free, dislodging the weakened couple and grabbing a gun. The brunette grabbed one, too. Mia fired, Jaxon fired, the brunette fired. The faceless someone in the corner fired.
One of the killer beams slammed into Jaxon.
After that, Dallas’s mind short-circuited and blackened. He slumped over, panting, trying to focus on the here and now.
What. The. Hell?
CHAPTER 5
Frustration was like a cancer inside of Le’Ace, eating at her, consuming her inch by inch. Every day her boss contacted her and asked about her progress with Jaxon; every day her answer was the same: I’ve made none.
The words were almost a foreign language on her tongue. She’d never had to utter them before and despised uttering them now. Failure would earn her nothing but pain. Pain she desperately wanted to avoid. Yet she hadn’t pushed Jaxon for more. Every time she considered her options—cut off one of his fingers, try to wipe his brain again, shackle him to the bed—she talked herself out of it.
Why?
The answer eluded her, same as success.
He was a man. Only a man. Nothing special. She recognized the lie immediately. His courage was something to be in awe of, and his internal fire something to envy.
What was she going to do?
He was healing nicely. And yet, he’d seemed to have morphed into a different man entirely. He was polite, reserved, never spoke out of turn, never voiced a dirty word or innuendo as he had in Thomas’s cell. He was the man she’d read about in his file. And she didn’t like it, wanted the old Jaxon back, though she couldn’t name why. The only thing consistent about him was that he refused to answer any of her questions.
Of course, he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do. He had freedom of choice. She was as jealous about that as she was frustrated with his lack of cooperation. Her entire life, she’d never had a choice.
Actually, no. That wasn’t true. She had one choice, always: life or death. Bad as it was, she wasn’t sure why she held on so tightly to her life or why she continued to obey Estap time and time again. Death would have been easier. But she did hold on, she did obey, always watching those around her, wishing she could experience half of what they did. Love and passion, laughter and companionship.
Just once.
Le’Ace bit back a snort. She’d scaled mountains, engaged in gunfights and knife fights. She’d trekked through land mines, navigated burning buildings, and jumped from planes and moving cars. Hell, she’d even taught teenage girls how to do the same, a definite testament to her strength. But she’d never possessed the courage to stand up and say “No, I won’t do that” or “Kill me, I don’t care.” Not for long. She’d never had the courage to even take a lover, in truth. Someone she desired. Someone her boss hadn’t told her to f**k for intel or to create a sense of trust. Someone she didn’t need to steal from or secretly kill, as only a woman on top of a man could kill.
She’d been too afraid.
Now somehow someone was tempting her to forget her job, her fears, and simply enjoy. It was the “for once” she’d always craved, but she was at a loss. Jaxon’s audacity is a novelty, that’s all.
Right? That would explain why the more she watched him, the more her body reacted to him, hungered for him, even though her mind knew better. Not that she could do anything about it. For her, passion could equal nothing but agony. When she was called away, and she would be, she would leave. If she were told to kill him, she would kill him. No question. No hesitation. Tears? Maybe. She thought she might miss him.