Her lids narrowed to tiny slits. “Fuck you.”
“That’s what I’m trying to get you to do,” he said cruelly. “We can play hubby and wife in truth.”
A look of hurt bloomed in her eyes, surprising him, nearly softening him. She’s still trying to pull my strings, damn her. That hurt wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. The woman was cold-blooded to the extreme.
Seconds later, she was scowling at him, solidifying his belief. “You should be thanking me for what I’ve done instead of complaining. I saved you when I could have killed you. I cared for you when I could have hurt you. I wiped your memory when I could have probed your brain in ways the Delenseans would have flinched at. Now, tell me where?”
Where’d she mess up, she wanted to know. “I wouldn’t have mentioned a case, even in my sleep,” he answered, then asked a question of his own. “Where are we? And don’t even think about lying. We’re exchanging information right now, but that will stop the moment you utter another lie.”
Her shoulders relaxed somewhat. “We’re in one of my safe houses.”
“How long?”
“I didn’t lie about that. You were hospitalized and kept in a coma for a little over three weeks. When you were stable, we brought you here.”
“We? Who’s we?”
“That, I can’t tell you.”
“Am I being monitored?”
Something dark flashed in her eyes. He studied them intently, only then seeing the round edges of the contacts where a hint of green lurked underneath blue. “Well?”
“Only by me,” she said, and he knew she was lying. Again.
He desperately wanted to question her further, but also knew he’d receive no more answers. A part of him recognized her for what she was: an agent to the core. She would be as closemouthed as he was. The only difference was, he knew what side of the law he worked.
“I guess our conversation is over,” he said.
“It had never really begun.”
True. “Take off the wig. I want to see the blonde.”
Surprise flashed over her expression, quickly masked. “That wasn’t my natural hair, either.”
Not blonde, not brunette. “Are you a redhead?”
“No.”
What the hell did that leave? “Show me the real you, for Christ’s sake. I want to see who I’m dealing with.”
Both of her brows arched. They, too, were colored black. “If I do, will you tell me what I want to know?”
“No.”
She slid one of her hands up his chest. Felt good. Too good. But he knew what she planned to do next. He released her neck to grab her wrist. She gasped, tried to pull away.
He held tight. Scowling, he ripped the ring from her index finger. “I’m not going back to sleep.”
“Fine.” She wrenched from his clasp and held both hands up, palms facing him and flat. “No nappie-poo. But you have to tell me about the Schön, Jaxon.”
Oh, really? “I don’t have to do anything.”
A muscle ticked under her eye as she moved to crouch on the end of the mattress. All of her body’s delicious warmth, gone. Her heady scent, weakened. He mourned the loss, and wondered if she would always affect him in such a way.
“When you were hospitalized,” she said, “two more women had already been infected. Since then, six others have been found.”
“Are they still alive?”
“Some of them.”
“You should kill them,” he said, his tone as flat as hers had been earlier.
“Why?”
He liked that she didn’t balk at his callous words and was tempted to answer. Not that he would.
She pushed out a frustrated sigh. “Every single one of them is babbling about Earth being next. Next for what? Do you know?”
“Maybe they’re planning a surprise party for us. If you bring the beer, I’ll bring the wine.”
A murderous yet quiet rage filled her eyes. Her lips thinned. But when she spoke, she was all business, calm and affable. “Listen, I need answers. I can help you, and you can help me.”
“First, why don’t you tell me exactly who you are and who you work for?”
A pause. She ran the pink tip of her tongue over the whiteness of her teeth. “Trust me. You don’t want to meet my current boss.”
“Current” boss. Did that mean she changed bosses frequently?
“We’re on the same side, Jaxon. I swear it.”
“Funny, but I’ve never seen you at A.I.R. headquarters before.”
Her hard stare pinned him, practically blazing all the way to his soul. “You’ve never heard of shadow operatives?”
Yeah, he had. And yeah, she was menacing enough to work in that dark, murky field. After all, she’d stabbed Thomas without a qualm. “Get Jack in here. Or Dallas or Mia. Let me talk to them.”
For a long while she said nothing, simply continued to stare over at him with a decadent mix of green and golden fury blazing from her eyes. Green? Golden? He looked more closely, more intently. Sure enough, one of her contacts had slipped completely and he could see the hazel iris underneath. Hazel, not totally green as he’d supposed.
Pretty.
His c**k twitched under the covers, and he frowned. He still desired her? Seriously? She clearly planned to keep him away from his coworkers. She was bloodthirsty, cruel, obviously higher maintenance than even Cathy, and could weave a web of lies without blinking. She’d saved his life, yes, but she’d also attempted to wipe his memories and give him new ones. Worse, feral as she was proving to be, she would probably knife him if he continued to refuse her.
Nope. None of that affected his cock. The little shit was still growing and hardening, still preparing for penetration.
“What the—” Le’Ace stared down at the sheet, her cheeks reddening. Her gaze jerked back to his face. She scowled. “You had better get used to the idea of talking to me,” she snapped. “Neither of us is leaving here until you do.”
Why did he suddenly feel like grinning?
CHAPTER 4
Dallas Gutierrez suffered from headaches. Every day he endured at least three crack-your-skull-against-the-wall, suck-your-brain-out-of-your-ears pounders. Everyone assumed he was still recovering from a pyre-gun injury.
Everyone was wrong.
While lying helpless in a hospital bed, he’d been purposely fed Arcadian blood. Alien blood. That had happened several months ago, but pieces of him were still dying and being reborn Arcadian. Anymore, he wasn’t certain what parts of his humanity remained. If any.