Unique Ink Page 9
Morgan started to say something, but Elias silenced her with a look. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”
He held out his hand, but Roxie crossed her arms, stubbornly tucking her hands against her sides. She would not be lulled by his fake compassion. He didn’t give a damn about her. He was worse than Morgan. At least Morgan didn’t play these cruel games.
They returned to the holding cell and Roxie moved inside, feeling desolate and alone. He knew better than to invade her space, but he lingered in the doorway. “We’re not trying to be insensitive, but time is running out. There are almost three hundred names in the notebook. We can’t possibly protect them all. Our only hope is to cut off the head of the snake before it strikes again.”
“I won’t be your sacrificial lamb.” Even as she spoke the words her heart rebelled. If she could keep someone else from being abused, or save even one life, wasn’t it her responsibility to try? “Go away.” He’d dragged her through her past and left her bruised and bleeding. She just wanted to be alone.
“I’d be at your side at all times and the Mystics would be ready to flash in at the first sign of trouble.”
“Then why not have a Mystic pose as my lover? Aren’t they more capable of protecting me than you are anyway?” It was a cheap shot, but she had to take it. Pain like this demanded company.
His shoulders tensed and his lips thinned. “Unfortunately, all of the Mystics have recently claimed their mates. Sevrin would know it’s a setup if she saw one of them with you.”
“You’ll figure out something. I have faith in your creativity.” She crossed to the bunk and lay down, presenting him with her back.
* * * * *
“Let me talk to her.” Jillian paced the Mystic Militia’s small office, obviously furious at what she’d just learned. Roxie had been in their custody for two days now and still she refused to relent. Odintar, who was leaning against the front of the desk, didn’t look any more at ease with the direction Morgan had chosen than his agitated mate.
Elias shook his head. “No visitors, except me. Morgan wants—”
“I don’t give a damn what Morgan wants,” Jillian snapped. “Roxie hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s ridiculous that she’s being treated like a criminal. No wonder she won’t cooperate with you. You’ve handled her all wrong.”
Elias hadn’t begun to “handle” Roxie, but that was the next step in Morgan’s plan. She wanted Roxie to realize what was at stake, that her stubbornness was putting others at risk. Most of all, Roxie needed to understand that her services were required not requested. Morgan had given him permission to use whatever means necessary—cajoling, intimidation, even seduction—to enlighten their reluctant guest.
“Roxie’s the best chance we have, but she’s scared,” Elias admitted. “I’m going to help her understand that she’ll be protected at all times.”
“And how are you going to protect her from a Shadow Assassin without allowing us in the house?” Odintar challenged. “I don’t think you understand how fast they are, especially Nazerel. He could flash in and take her from you before you realize he’s there.”
Jillian stilled and her gaze began to smolder. “That’s what Morgan wants, isn’t it? She isn’t baiting a trap; she wants them to take Roxie to their new headquarters. Oh my God, that woman is cold.”
He found it hard to defend Morgan when he happened to agree with Jillian. This new strategy revealed just how desperate Morgan had become. It was merciless and reckless, and Roxie deserved better. “We’re just using their strategy against them, only our tracking system is more sophisticated.”
“Really?” Odintar hadn’t moved but his voice grew more aggressive. “What sort of tracking system can’t be jammed or removed.”
“We’ll inject her with an isotope that emits a harmless form of radiation. The radiation can be tracked over long distances. It doesn’t transmit any sort of signal, so most shielding is ineffective.”
Odintar pushed off the desk and stalked toward him. “So let’s say her plan works flawlessly. Nazerel snatches Roxie and flashes her to their new headquarters. What then? If the warnings from Ontariese are accurate, three sizable Rodyte ships activated the hyperspace gates leading to this sector. Sevrin could have an army protecting her by now. We just don’t know.”
“And we can’t gather recon until we find the new facility.” Elias’ response was just as passionate.
Jillian walked to Odintar’s side and joined the prosecution. “And Roxie is just supposed to endure whatever they do to her while we’re checking out the situation? How long should she enjoy Sevrin’s tender mercies? Two days? A week? Several months?”
“I’m open to suggestions.” They were out of options, had been for weeks. “If you oppose this plan, offer us another? We’ve tried standing around and hoping for a break. We’re going to have to make something happen if we ever want this to end.”
Jillian looked at Odintar and silently shook her head. “I hate everything about this, but he’s right. We have to do something.”
“We cannot force this on Roxie or we’re no better than they are,” Odintar insisted. “If solitude has not cleared her head, then try another strategy, but you must find a way to make her see reason.”
Elias laughed. “Have you ever seen two stubborn females locked in a power struggle? Roxie will let the world burn just to spite Morgan. This stopped being rational shortly after it began.”
“Let me talk to her.” Jillian’s tone was softer this time, yet no less insistent. “You’re Morgan’s right-hand man. Roxie won’t respond to you.”
Elias sighed. Morgan was being as irrational as Roxie. And Odintar was right; isolation had only reinforced Roxie’s stubbornness. “All right. Give me a few minutes to set things up. I’ll have to loop the surveillance feed and distract the guards.”
* * * * *
Roxie glared at the door as she heard the familiar sounds of someone intruding on her solitude. Elias was the only one allowed to see her and she wanted nothing to do with him. He was Morgan’s lap dog and whatever appeal he’d possessed had been eclipsed by his willingness to follow irrational orders.
“Hey, stranger.”
She’d prepared her best scowl, but Jillian stepped through the doorway rather than Elias. “What are you doing here?”
Jillian smiled. “Does that mean I’m not welcome?”
“That depends. Does Morgan know you’re here?”
“She doesn’t and Elias is risking dismissal by countermining her direct order.”
It was about time he grew a pair. In the past two days, he’d brought her food, had taken her to the women’s locker room so she could shower and provided her with a change of clothes. If a charming ensemble that looked like a cross between hospital scrubs and a prisoner’s uniform could be called clothes. Still, he seldom bothered to stick around and keep her company, and he’d made it obvious he wasn’t open to compromise. She agreed to bait their hook or she would rot in this cell forever.
“Where is he?”
Jillian’s smile widened and she took another step into the tiny room. “Should I go get him? I thought you’d be glad to see a familiar face.”
“Is your face familiar? Are you even Jillian Taylor?”
“In the flesh. I promise.” She moved to the foot of the bunk and sat.
Roxie folded her legs in front of her, giving Jillian a little more room. “How long have you been spying for them?”
“If by ‘them’ you mean aliens, I recently learned that I’m one of them. Like yours, my father wasn’t human.”
She’d said that as if it were an established fact. “Lor told Elias I was a hybrid. I was under the impression that they needed a blood sample to determine the specifics.”
“Blood, hair, saliva, anything that contained DNA.”
Her gaze narrowed and she shook her head. “Meaning they’ve already done the test.” Another invasion of her privacy. These people really needed to reevaluate their treatment of p
risoners. Even if she’d done something wrong, which she hadn’t, they still needed to treat her like a person rather than a reluctant tool.
“It was pretty rude, I agree, but would you like to know what they found out?”
Roxie’s instinct was to say no, to disassociate herself with anything associated with Morgan. But such a refusal wouldn’t punish anyone but herself. “Sure. Tell me what they learned.”
“Your father was a hybrid, half Rodyte and half Bilarrian. Your mother was primarily human, but they detected traces of Bilarrian as well, probably from a grandparent.”
Roxie waited for the information to have an impact. Her mother was “primarily” human and her father was a hybrid. Shouldn’t the knowledge make her feel somehow different? But they were just words, meaningless words. “All right. Thanks.”
They lapsed into silence as Roxie stared across the room. She felt like a stranger in her own life, an onlooker forced to watch a really depressing movie.
“Why did you apply for the receptionist job?” Roxie asked as the silence became oppressive. “You seemed shocked when you first saw Nazerel. Didn’t you know he was one of the men I’d been tattooing?”
“I was shocked. Like you, we’d heard they’d left town. I had no idea he’d be there.”
“And the job? What were you hoping to learn?”
“Anything new, anything helpful. We knew you’d been tattooing Shadow Assassins. We had no idea you’d been contacted by Sevrin herself.” Jillian sighed and pivoted so they basically faced each other. “We’re out of options. We’ve exhausted every lead, explored every clue, and none of it has led us to Sevrin.”
“I don’t want to sound like a heartless bitch, but Elias said they want to behead the snake before she strikes again. If they use me to get to her, how is that any different than just waiting until she strikes to move in? Either way there will be one more victim.”
“Maybe, and maybe the hunters would have gathered six or seven more before we found even one. Would you be okay with that? We’re in a lull right now because Sevrin just moved her operation to a new facility. As soon as that facility is operational, they will start up all over again.” She waited until Roxie looked into her eyes and then went on. “I’ve seen the results of their failed experiments. Those innocent women mutated, becoming hideous echoes of humanity. And then they died in agony.”
Jillian was pulling at Roxie’s heartstrings, using pity in an attempt to control her. “They might have been horribly deformed when you found them, but how could you possibly know if they were in pain when they died?”
“The last three victims were still alive when they were found. Would you like to watch one of the videos?”
“No!” Roxie scrubbed her hands over her face. She’d known this was inevitable ever since she returned to the holding cell. She wasn’t the type of person who could look the other way while someone suffered and died. “This is so unfair. Why do I have to be the one to—”
“We didn’t choose you. Sevrin did.” She reached out and touched Roxie’s hand. Their gazes locked, Roxie’s hostile, Jillian’s warm and compelling. “I thought my life was over when my leg was crushed. Dancing was all I knew, all I cared about. Nothing has ever been more painful, or more frightening, than letting go of my old life. But I had to let go before I could embrace something new and amazing. This fight is important. We need your help and it has to be soon.”
“I’m afraid.” The admission slipped out between her trembling lips.
“Of course you are, but Elias is strong and competent, and he’ll be backed up by the Mystic Militia. You won’t be doing this alone.”
Roxie covered her face with her hands, knowing the fight was lost. She was paralyzed by fear and uncertainty and yet she knew she would act anyway. She’d put herself in danger, offer herself as a willing sacrifice, so others could escape Sevrin’s cruelty.
Warm hands grasped her arms and pulled her up off the bunk. She couldn’t say when Jillian left, but Elias stood in her place. “You okay?”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around him then pressed even closer as he encircled her with his arms.
“I won’t leave your side.” He stroked her hair and shifted his body so their contrasting shapes more closely aligned.
She was his assignment, his mission, but it didn’t seem to matter to her affection-starved body. He felt wonderful wrapped around her and all she could think of was more. She licked her lips then eased back far enough to look into his eyes. “We’re going to have to convince everyone we’re lovers. How do we sell that when we’ve never even—”
His head dipped and his mouth covered hers in a bone-melting kiss. Soft yet insistent, his lips guided hers apart and then his tongue teased its way inside her mouth. She clutched his back, enjoying the bunch and flex of his muscles. His taste filled her mouth and his scent became more familiar with each ragged breath.
Her head started spinning and she tried to forget where she was, that they were likely being watched, and this was still a job to him. She sank into the kiss, allowing anger and fear to flow out in a tingling rush of sensation.
“Okay,” she sighed when he finally released her, “so that won’t be a problem.”
He took her by the hand and led her out of the holding cell. “Chemistry is defiantly not a problem, but we need to rehearse our story.”
“Where are we going?”
“My quarters are more comfortable. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
She hesitated, heart thudding wildly in her chest. Just like that, did he expect her to spend the night with him? “We’re pretending to be lovers.”
A sexy smile bowed his lips. “All I’d planned to do was talk, but I’m more than willing to explore this attraction if you think we need more practice.”
One kiss had left her weak and tingly. She didn’t want to consider how malleable she’d become if they did more than kiss.
He chuckled at her panicked look. “We can go back to the mess hall if you honestly don’t trust me to keep my hands to myself.”
“I trust you.” It was herself she didn’t trust. Even while she’d been furious with Elias, she’d been fascinated by him, anxiously awaiting the next time he’d stop by her cell. And she’d used naughty fantasies about him to fill the time while she was alone. She’d imagined them indulging in all sorts of forbidden pleasures—always instigated by him. But they’d been fantasies, harmless indulgences with no consequences or regret. “I just didn’t want you to misinterpret my willingness to be alone with you.”
“We’ll construct our cover story and nothing more.”
His quarters were four times the size of the holding cell with a neatly made bed in one corner and a sitting area near the door. Everything was organized and immaculate, in keeping with his military background.
“Lies work best when they’re as close to the truth as possible,” he began. “It’s a lot less to remember.”
She watched him move through his private domain, calm and confident, each action controlled. “So you’re from Austin.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “I’m career military, so I move around a lot, but Austin’s my home.”
“Are you still in the Army?”
He thought for a second then shook his head. “It’s unlikely I could get leave on such short notice. Better make me a security consultant. That way I can set my own hours. Lots of ex-cops and former GIs go into private security.”
“Okay. Let’s see, why don’t we say I own a tattoo shop.” A smile automatically appeared as she began to relax. She shouldn’t be this comfortable with him, but there was something about Elias that made her feel safe. And safety was something Roxie hadn’t experienced a lot of in her life.
He sat in one of the upholstered chairs and motioned her toward the other. “Have you ever been married?”
She shook her head as she took her seat. He was right. This was infinitely more comfortable than the holding cell “Have you?”
“We need a different reason. That doesn’t work unless we admit you’re with the FBI.”
“All right. We’ll say it happened while I was still in the Army. She couldn’t take all the uncertainty, never knowing where I’d be deployed or how long I’d be gone.”
“That makes sense.” They might be constructing a factious background, but it was offering her another glimpse into his past. “Did you take the breakup hard?”
“I’ve never been that angry in my life, but it was the right decision. The marriage would have been a mistake.”
Despite his calm expression, she could sense his pain. Right decision or not, his ex-fiancée had hurt him badly. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged and the emotional cloud seemed to dissipate. “It was a long time ago.”
“I’m still sorry you had to go through that.”
Their gazes locked and awareness escalated, pulsing between them as the silence lengthened. She wanted to touch him, or more specifically, she wanted him to touch her. She wanted him to pull her out of her chair and back into his arms. It was going to be really hard to remember they were just pretending.
He cleared his throat then blinked, severing the invisible tether. “What about you? Any serious relationships?”
She took a deep breath and looked away from his face. Those steady hazel eyes saw too much and penetrated too deeply. “I have trust issues. I tend to expect the worst from people and they seldom disappoint me.”
“That’s understandable, but sad. And it sounds like you just haven’t found the right person yet.”