Le’Ace sheathed the empty Glock at her waist and pushed herself flat against the wall. Adrenaline zinged through her bloodstream, her heart a vibrant drum inside her chest. So far, the job had gone smoothly. Yet, over the years she’d noticed that every job came with at least one complication.
This must be it.
Closer and closer those footsteps came. There was another pause, long and heavy. A muttered curse. And then, as if the Delensean had changed his mind about checking on his friends, the tiptoeing steps moved farther and farther away.
Thirty-one percent and swiftly declining.
Her teeth gritted together. Damn him. He was going to make her play chase. Pyre-gun extended, she moved slowly and silently out of the kitchen. Her gaze darted left, then right. Clear.
Above, a door eased shut, a lock turned. Her ears caught every minute sound as he hid.
Just get it over with. Le’Ace sank into the shadows underneath the staircase. She kept her pyre-gun at the ready and used her free hand to reach into her boot and withdraw a small, thin box. She’d trained her fingers to work the device without the use of sight, so they flew to the proper buttons and pressed.
A clear holoscreen soon dappled a small patch of air directly above the keyboard, slowly solidifying into a square. Black lines and blue lights flashed over the surface as the wireless system scanned the house for body heat, movement, and voice. Each light finally congealed into a single dot, pinpointing the alien’s location in the room at the end of the upstairs hall.
He was in the middle of the room. She knew the house, knew there was a bed in that location. He must be crouched under it.
How can I do this? Play evil cat to his innocent mouse?
You know your orders, Le’Ace, common sense piped up. No survivors. Besides, he wasn’t innocent. Every man in this house had taken a turn using Jaxon as a punching bag. And judging by the extent of Jaxon’s bruises, they’d enjoyed every moment of it.
Some of her self-loathing and reluctance faded. She switched the scanner off and returned it to her boot. Up the stairs she quietly moved, gun steady. Down the hallway, eyes alert. She wondered what Jaxon would have thought if he’d been here, watching her. Would he have been impressed or disgusted? Praised her or lectured her for being cold-blooded? Men could do any dark deed, and it was for the good of mankind. Yet with the slightest hint of a woman’s malevolence, no matter the reason, she was utterly wicked. Eve with the apple. Pandora with her box.
Jaxon had an impressive kill list—over sixty predatory aliens—though he usually opted to deliver a deathblow only as a last resort. He preferred to capture. He would lecture me, she decided. Perhaps interrogate me to find out why I’m like I am.
Interrogation. He was, his file said, a master at it. Through sugarcoated words, or pounding anger and intimidation, he got what he wanted. That drugging voice and lazy nonchalance had probably helped him a time or two, as well, coaxing victims to willingly spill their darkest secrets.
If otherworlders reacted with even half the intensity she had, they’d tell him anything and everything he wanted to know and smile while doing it. A few more minutes with him and she might have caved.
Admitting it was difficult; she despised weakness in herself.
She’d scolded Thomas for letting Jaxon’s eyelids puff, because Marie was a sadistic bitch who liked to see every flicker of pain, but Le’Ace had been disappointed for another reason. She knew his eyes were blue, but photographs and holoimages could not capture a man’s raw masculine intensity. She would have loved to see just how intense a man he really was, even though she suspected seeing those eyes of his would have weakened her more than a bullet to the brain.
A whimper echoed in her ears, cutting into her thoughts.
Stop thinking about Jaxon and get this done. She was so close to finishing she could taste it. At the closed doorway, she paused, listened. No movement. He was still under the bed, then. Go time.
One. Two. Three. With a hard kick, the hinges shattered and the door burst open. From under the bed, just as she’d assumed, there was a gasp, another whimper. Her gun was already raised and aimed, so she simply squeezed the trigger.
A split second later, yellow-orange flames were incinerating a hole in the mattress and melting several of the springs. Realizing he would catch fire if he remained in place, the Delensean yelped and rolled from underneath. One of his arms snagged on the carpet and became trapped under his body, pinning him in place. He struggled, flicking her horrified glances.
“D—don’t. Please,” he begged, as if he hadn’t done worse things over the years. She knew better.
“Have to.” Once again she applied pressure to the trigger. There was no recoil; the bright yellow beam simply jetted out and slammed into the alien. He screamed a sound of such agony, even she cringed.
Over and over his body convulsed, his legs kicking. Where the beam hit him, his shirt had burned away and she could see a hole where his heart should have been, the jagged ends sizzling. Had he left Jaxon alone, she might have cut his throat to quickly end his misery. Since he hadn’t, she remained in place.
When he stilled, she asked, Energy level?
Extinguished.
Done. It was done.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Her arm fell to her side, the gun suddenly heavy, a thousand-pound weight. A bead of sweat trickled between her br**sts, down her stomach. Mission complete, and she hadn’t sustained a single injury. Injury.
No, not complete yet, she thought. One last thing to do. A sense of urgency suddenly bloomed inside her and she raced back to the underground cell. What would she find? Had Jaxon somehow managed to escape her? Had he died?
Thankfully, he was exactly where she’d left him and still breathing. She released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding, tension easing. Another success.
She popped out the tiny earpiece attached to the left strap of her bra and pushed it into her ear. At the moment of contact, her boss’s number was dialed.
“Outcome?” he asked in lieu of saying hello. No niceties for her.
“Successful.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“I’m extracting now and will contact again when settled.”
“No. There’s been a slight change of plan.”
She stifled a groan, her gaze shifting once more to Jaxon. What were they going to command her to do to him? He’d already endured so much and wouldn’t be able to withstand much more. Compassion, Le’Ace? You know better. “Yes?”
“Two more infected females were captured. They were muttering about Earth being next. Next for what, they didn’t know or they wouldn’t tell us. Jaxon is the only person who was able to get answers from the others, though I’m willing to bet he’s been selective about what he’s shared. You can break him.”