The Vigilante's Lover: A Romantic Suspense Thriller (The Vigilantes Book 1) (8 page)

I open the bedroom door carefully, quietly.

Mia sleeps soundly in the bed. The red ropes loosely hold her in place, tied by the two women per my instructions. The knots are rough and unpracticed, but they do their job.

Mia’s honey-brown hair spills over the fluffy pillows like strands of fine silk. Even though her arms are tied, she has managed to pin the covers with her elbows. The sheet is pulled to her chin, but I spy the strap of a red negligee.

Armond must have sent word of my favorite color. Against her pale skin, the swath of crimson stands out like a warning flag.

As it should. The last time I inspected a woman this closely, she got me sent to prison.

Mia stirs as I cross the room. Her eyes flutter for a second before awareness hits and she wakes with a gasp.

“Good morning, temptress,” I say.

She stares at me and pulls against her bonds. A grimace creases her brow.

“Are you going to let me up?” she asks. “This isn’t exactly comfortable.” Her words carry a hint of accusation.

“In a moment. First, we talk.”

She looks down for a moment as if to ensure her modesty, then lets her gaze slide back my way.

“I am going to a Vigilante stronghold. There I hope to find out where Klaus might be and start the process of clearing my name.”

Her eyes shine with some thought. Hope of being left behind, alone?

“You are coming with me,” I add with a smile.

“Why?” The shine is gone.

“Because I need you. And I’m curious. The Vigilantes have info on everyone. Everyone except you. If I can’t find the answers I seek at the silo, I will extract information from you. I can make you talk.”

Mia visibly swallows. She probably thinks I’m talking about torture. Poor girl.

“Don’t worry, Mia. I like you, remember?”

“Parts of you do,” she says blandly.

Now she is behaving more like I expected.

I approach the bed. Mia stiffens a little, which makes me smile. Back to her training. The frightened act.

I know better. She stood naked before me last night and waited for me to kiss her. I didn’t give her the satisfaction, although I sorely could have used it myself.

I pull out the first knot in the ropes binding her to the bed. She drops the scared expression and stretches her arm. Her sigh of contentment goes straight to my gut.

I feel that hitch, that pull of desire. I quash it with a quick spike of anger.

“Do not think for an instant that I will hesitate to do what it takes to keep you in line,” I say. I tug on the rope for emphasis.

“Hey!” she says with a glare. She shifts on the bed and the sheet slips down to reveal the fiery lace negligee. It cups her breasts, pushing them into an impossibly deep cleavage, then falls in a sheer swath of red to where she is hidden again by the covers.

Is she playing with me? I trust her even less than I did a moment ago. Still, my body’s reaction is swift. I want her. I have to clamp down on my jaw to resist the urge to press her down on the bed and end this charade right now.

“Up,” I say.

She jerks against the rope. “How?” A flash of anger makes her face even more beautiful.

“Fine.” I untie everything except the binds around each of her wrists.

“Hand me that dress,” she says. “And the bra.”

I intend to make another searing remark. But instead, I turn to the red sweater dress draped over the side chair. Next to it, a small box holds a matching bra.

I pass her the clothing, and she pulls it beneath the covers and disappears under a bulge of blanket.

After a moment, the red negligee flies through the air. It hits the beige carpet like a bloodstain.

I lean against the wall, my anger dissipating. I’ve never seen a woman act like this. Temptress, then shy girl. It’s entertaining, at least.

Mia slides from the covers fully dressed, but the sweater hugs her curves in all the best places as she moves toward the bathroom.

She insists on closing the door, pointing to the device on her neck. I nod. It doesn’t matter. There’s no way a half-trained Phase One can escape me, and I’m done playing games about it. There is no window in the bathroom. If she exited either door, I could drop her unconscious in seconds.

I head to the main room and pull out the Vigilante tech kit Sam gave me. I pick up my watch and check the band. With just the right motion, two short, sharp prongs slip out. The tips glisten with contact poison. Handy.

The bathroom door opens and Mia emerges, looking rather resplendent despite her disheveled hair. The dress gives with every motion and seems to ripple over her body. She moves with an inborn grace.

Mia holds out her arms where the long trail of ropes are looped around her delicate wrists. “Ready to lead me out of here like a slave girl?”

I approach and her surprise is palpable as I untie her wrists and free her fully from her binding.

“Why didn’t you do that earlier?” she asks as she rubs the marks on her skin. “Would have made things easier.” She glances back into the bathroom.

I chuckle. “It would have, yes. But where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re an ass,” she says.

For a moment, camaraderie courses between us, like we’re on the same team.

But we’re not. I can’t forget that. Not for an instant.

“We will be walking out of here together.” I let my voice go cold. “Remember that I can sedate you at any time, so I suggest you behave yourself. A woman fainting won’t raise an eyebrow from the staff.”

She frowns, the easy teasing gone. It’s best that we both remember our place in this scheme.

“I need my shoes,” she says.

I wave in the direction of the bedroom. Mia heads there, looking confused and torn. I have an urge to touch her, give her some sort of comfort. Damn, this girl is vexing.

I’m starting to sense that maybe she had juvenile training early on and this faltering temptress trick is something new. Still, shoddy work. I feel increasingly certain that she’s part of Jovana’s brood, and not true Vigilante. The program is unsurpassed in matching a trainee with his or her natural gifts, and they would never place a half-prepared Vigilante in a safe house.

Mia comes back, teetering unsteadily on stiletto heels. “This is a new look for me,” she says.

Great. She’ll be incapable of walking more than five feet. No matter. We have to get moving.

I touch a button on the table and within minutes, a man enters. With only a faint nod from me, he gathers my packed suit and another red bag that contains additional outfits for Mia.

When he has gone out ahead of us, I say, “It’s time.”

She has walked to the French doors and turns, backlit by the morning sun. Her hair is glorious and wild, the red dress giving her a sultry silhouette. Yes, she will make one hell of an operative, in time.

I step forward and take her hand. She makes an obvious show of looking away but does not resist.

We walk the hotel hallway in silence. Mia concentrates on her balance as we go down the elevator and arrive at the back entrance.

The Lexus is already waiting in the pull-through, the driver’s door hanging open. The attendant opens the front passenger door, and Mia hesitates for a second before climbing in. I slip into the driver’s seat and pull away the moment he closes her door.

I’m not sure how much I should warn her about what we’re about to go into. If she’s a Vigilante, she’s been to syndicates before.

I consider the possibility that Mia’s information board will be as blank at the silo as it was on the Identipad. If that’s true, I’ll ask them to hold on to her for me. I’ll get to the bottom of who she is on my own.

If she really is one of my enemies, she’ll be captured. I’ll take great pleasure in interrogating her myself, no holds barred.

Great pleasure.

Mia stares out the window, lost in thought. Her skin is fair in the morning light. I may just have to accept the fact that I’m caught by her.

I decide not to say anything about the situation. Hopefully things will work out without too much drama. I’ll go in, confess my role in killing Jovana’s rival and how it came about, and we’ll start the process of clearing my name.

After the night it all went down, no one brought me to the syndicate for questioning. I was taken to Ridley Prison like a common criminal, without any sort of Vigilante tribunal. I aim to find out who arranged that and why no one stepped forward to challenge how my case was handled.

“Is it far?” Mia asks.

“An hour,” I say.

Mia smooths out a rumple in her skirt. She seems almost nervous. I wonder if she has something to hide, something that will be revealed when she enters the silo. Maybe she plans to attack me and escape before we arrive.

This is going to be a very interesting morning.

14: Mia

Jax seems different than last night.

I steal peeks at him as he drives. This car, now that I’m in the front, isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen. The dash at first glance seems like the new fancy electrics. A whole-car perimeter camera screen. Gauges that tell you time to next charge, miles per amp, the size of your environmental footprint.

But there’s other things. Maps display on the windshield. There’s a countdown that is twenty-four hours in and will end in forty-eight more. Another inexplicable hexagon projected onto the glass has pulsing red lights of varying brightness.

“So what is that one?” I ask, curiosity eating at me. I point to the hexagon.

Jax shifts his attention to the display. In the bright light of day, he seems less imposing. His eyes are actually a gray-blue, now that I can see them beneath his hooded brow. He’s ridiculously handsome. I’ve never seen anyone like him before. Maybe in a movie.

I remember him looking at me last night, when I thought he would kiss me. My heart quickens.

“That is just a view of my compatriots and their positions,” he says. The way his voice dips on the word “compatriots” suggests that the dots represent something quite the opposite of anything friendly.

“You said my aunt’s house was ‘compromised’ last night. How, exactly?”

His eyes flick over to me, then go back to the road. “It was your own alarm that went off. You should know.”

“I had no idea there was anything in my lampshade.”

His expression darkens. That’s the Jax I remember. Angry. Suspicious. I’ve hit a nerve.

“It should have been updated with a more current model. Did you only recently go to that safe house?”

This question feels like a trick. He knows how long I have been writing the letters.

“I grew up there. I was gone for a couple years to community college. I came back to care for my aunt.”

His face gets even more sullen. He thinks I’m lying, but I don’t get why. How can he assume that I know anything? I suddenly understand how innocent people are convicted of crimes. It doesn’t matter that you have nothing to do with it. You’re guilty just by being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“I’m not sure why you feel it necessary to lie to me,” he says. “I’m a high-ranking Vigilante. I know everything about that house.”

“I don’t think you do,” I protest. “You say someone named Georgiana Powers lived there, but that can’t possibly be true. My Aunt Bea has owned it for decades. I lived there for most of my childhood. You’re wrong.” I shake my head. “You’re just too stubborn to say you’re wrong.”

“I’m never wrong,” he says. “That’s how I’ve gotten where I am.”

I snort out the most unladylike sound. “Ridley Prison? Am I supposed to believe that is some sort of exalted position?” I turn away from him to stare at the majestic pine trees stacked deep along the highway. We must be driving alongside some sort of national park, because the road narrows and there are no longer any houses or businesses.

He stews in silence, but I don’t care. I’m only stating the obvious. I have nothing to lose here. I’ve accepted all the things that could happen. Abduction. Rape. Torture. Okay, not the torture. I can’t accept that. If they kill me, I can only hope it will be quick.

I just can’t imagine why I could possibly be worth this much trouble.

“Is it the letters?” I ask, turning back to him. I hope I sound as contrite as I feel.

He concentrates on the road. “What do you mean?”

“The reason you kidnapped me. Is it because I pretended to be Klaus?” I swallow hard over the lump in my throat. “I’m truly sorry. I just thought your letters were…intriguing and that it wouldn’t hurt anything to answer them. I thought you enjoyed them.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. I’m somehow making him more angry with my bumbling apology.

“Just stop it now,” he says. “There is no way you are not involved. Even if your poorly executed letters are just ramblings, you were still at a Vigilante safe house that was the last known location of my friend and comrade.”

I give up. He won’t listen to me. He thinks everything I say is a lie. We’re driving to some place I can’t even fathom, but if it’s like this car, like the gadgets in his trunk or the training he seems to have, then it’s bound to be dangerous.

My belly flips a little. I realize we haven’t eaten and he hasn’t even thought of it. Maybe this Vigilante runs on anger and the misery of others. I probably couldn’t swallow anything anyway.

As if he’s read my mind, he says, “It’s too risky to stop for breakfast along this route. They’ll provide for you at the syndicate.”

“No room service at the Ritz?” I tease.

“I got poisoned twice at hotels,” he says grimly. “Security is far too lax.”

This shuts me up. What sort of life gets you poisoned at a fancy hotel? And what sort of man survives it — twice?

We turn off the highway onto a gravel road. The trees tower on either side of our car and soon we’re surrounded by woods.

I have to stuff down my rising fear. This looks like a very good place to leave a body. I wonder if Jax could do that, if he could kill me. Everything about him tells me it’s possible.

Except, last night. That almost-kiss. He feels something, same as me. I press my hand against my quivering belly. The sweater dress is soft and smooth. Cashmere, Emma said last night. Only the best for me, she said. I was lucky.