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 f**k a million other men right in front of him. But that, too, seemed to matter less and less.