A long pause surrounded us. Finally, he said, “What do you know of Rianne Harte?”
“Ryan Heart,” I echoed, committing the name to memory. “Nothing. What do you know of him?”
He chuckled, the sound dark rather than amused. “Surely you have gotten further in the case than this. Surely you—”
“Mia,” Dallas called behind me.
“And so our time together ends,” the alien said.
“Stay,” I demanded of him. “I’m not finished with you.”
The Arcadian didn’t respond. In fact, I no longer felt his presence. The gentle charged hum of his electrical output was gone. Damn it. Obviously his powers were exceptional. Maybe that was why I’d felt his energy twice now. To escape as quickly and easily as he had, he either levitated or walked through that brick wall.
God help us if aliens could now mist through solid objects.
My free hand fisted. Had he told me the truth? Had someone else already been abducted? Was another man soon to die? If so, the Arcadian might even be the one responsible. He could have been bragging. I found myself nodding. That made sense and fit part of the killer’s profile.
“Where’s the Arcadian?” Dallas asked, panting. “I got a look at him and then he disappeared.”
I pivoted and faced my partner. “I lost him. Fucking lost him.”
“Who the hell was he, anyway?” He bent over and sucked in a breath. “And why the hell were we chasing him?”
“I saw him at the club.”
Dallas’s eyes went wide. “You think he knows something?”
“Yeah.” With my hands on my hips, I searched the alley one last time. Nothing. “Let’s go back to the car, and I’ll explain.”
We strode briskly to the vehicle, ever alert to the happenings around us, and managed to settle inside the car’s warmth without incident.
“He mentioned a name,” I said. “Ryan Heart, male. Check for a missing person’s report.”
Dallas typed the name into the console, then glanced at me. “Nada.”
“Try Ryan Hart,” I said, changing the spelling. “And if that doesn’t work, try Harte.”
A moment passed before Dallas uttered a dark chuckle. “I hate to break this to you, Mia, but there are two Ryan Harts. One is sixty-eight, not the appearance of our victims. The other is his ten-year-old grandson. They both have blond hair.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
The Arcadian had lied to me. My muscles tightened with simmering fury.
“Get both Harts on the phone,” I said. “I want to personally hear that they’re safe in their beds.”
It took Dallas fifteen minutes, but he finally confirmed that both Grandpa and the boy were safe.
“I want a guard on both of them,” I said. “I want to know who they talk to, where they go. And keep it low-key. I don’t want anyone to know, not even the commander.”
“There are a couple of humans who owe me a favor.” Dallas made the necessary calls.
I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this at all.
CHAPTER 5
When we arrived at the warehouse, Ghost and Kittie were already there.
They stood beside their cruiser, each loaded down with multi-sized guns, knifes, and ammo. They were wearing typical hunter attire—black leather pants, black shirts, and black jackets. Where Ghost was tall, with chocolate-colored skin and a well-muscled body, Kittie was short and as pale as vanilla ice cream. His spindly arms and legs hid a dangerous strength and an ability to take down the most menacing of suspects.
Kittie’s real name was James Vaughn, and on his first day at A.I.R. he roamed the halls, introducing himself as Mad Dog. He deserved a tough nickname, he’d said. I decided then to call him Kittie.
The name had stuck.
Dallas commanded the car to park next to them, and the vehicle smoothly obeyed. We exited.
“Evening, boys,” I said.
“Evening,” Kittie said with a grin. His lips were almost imperceptible, only two thin slashes of pink, and he had a chin that pointed like a leprechaun’s shoe, but damn if he didn’t have a beautiful pair of eyes—two brilliant emeralds framed by spiky black lashes. He dragged one last puff on his cigarette, then tossed it to the ground.
“That’s a nasty habit,” I said, my gaze following the glowing orange butt as it rolled across the pavement. “And completely illegal.”
“Only way to control my advanced schizophrenia and narcissistic rage.” Those green orbs glowed with amusement as he lovingly patted the cigarette pack in his coat pocket.
“Mia, you’re lookin’ as fine as always,” Ghost said, “but Dallas…man, that’s one hell of a shiner. Did you piss Mia off again?”
“Nah.” Dallas shrugged. “This time she hit me for no reason.”
“There’s always a reason,” I muttered.
He only chuckled.
“Did you have any trouble finding your first target?” I asked the others.
“None whatsoever,” Kittie said, his deep voice a vivid contrast to his physique. “We put the little bastard in lockup. But I gotta tell you, he couldn’t find his ass with a miner’s hat, the stupid son of a bitch, and it was pretty obvious he knew nothing about Steele.”
“Well, the Arcadian we’re about to apprehend does know about Steele, so listen up.” I clapped my hands to make sure I had everyone’s attention. “Hudson’s house is only a block away. We do this quietly and as quickly as possible. And I want all of you, all of you,” I stressed, my earlier vision suddenly filling my mind, “to be careful around any and all women we encounter. Got it?”
They all just stared at me with narrowed eyes, like I’d just called them stupid-ass morons. Maybe I had. They knew to take care with everyone they encountered. I held each stare for a few seconds, then crossed my arms over my chest and waited. I wasn’t going to apologize.
Finally, Ghost broke the silence. “You want this girl Lilla dead or alive?” he asked.
“Alive. I have questions, she has answers. Now enough talk. Let’s move.”
We stealthily maneuvered on foot to Hudson’s backyard. Our black clothing was like a neon sign set in the paleness of the snow, so we stayed crouched low to the ground, trying to stay in the shadows. At some points we crawled. Others we ran. The lights were out throughout the entire house; all of the curtains were drawn. Our heated breath misted the frigid air, and the only sound was the gentle patter of falling sleet.
I doubted Hudson was stupid enough to leave a hideaway card for the guest scanner outside, but I searched anyway. Unfortunately, I found nothing more than a few shiny rocks and a fistful of dirt.
Kittie spent a few minutes at the power receiver, cutting the alarm and backup battery. A risky move, really, because the stilling of a ceiling fan or the flicker of a clock could alert the residents of our presence. Risky, but necessary.
Ghost crouched down in front of the doorknob and extracted a black velvet pouch from his side pocket. He removed a tiny saw blade and fit the shiny silver metal into the scanner. Wireless systems were still uncommon among the middle class, thank God, but even the most basic of houses used print IDs or guest cards for entry. In this Hudson was no different. I couldn’t pick an ID unit to save my life. I didn’t have the patience.
Smiling, I said softly, “I love it when you do this.” His ability to break past any barrier gently and efficiently, without anyone the wiser, was how he’d earned his name. “I swear to God it turns me on.”
“Any time, baby,” he said. “This is just one of my many talents with my hands.”
I already had my weapon drawn, so I lined up behind him and covered his back while he worked. Moments later, the ID was disarmed and the door popped open.
Quick as a snap, I spun and placed my back against the wall, preparing for entry.
Which one of these men would die tonight?
Unbidden, the question flashed in my mind. For a moment, I couldn’t move, could barely breath. No. No! I would not let them die inside this house. I would protect them, with my own life if necessary. With that thought, I calmed. I would keep them safe with my own life. Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts.
“Ready?” I asked, not voicing the words, just moving my lips.
Dallas got into position on the other side of the door. He nodded.
Ghost and Kittie stepped back, guns drawn. They, too, gave a short but sweet nod.
Every nerve in my body on alert, I silently stepped inside. My gaze darted, and my gun moved with it. Clear. I stepped deeper inside, careful to place my boots exactly to prevent any type of squeak. I paused, absorbing the silence. Dallas entered behind me, followed quickly by Ghost. Kittie stayed at the door, guarding our rear.
Legally, we didn’t have to announce our presence like PD had to do. We were hunting a predatory alien, and that gave us the right to enter any home we wanted without advance notice. So we didn’t give any. Lilla was a slippery creature, and I wasn’t going to give her any warning.
I scanned the immediate area. A kitchen. Broken dishes littered the floor. Chairs were upturned. My heart sped into over-drive. There had been a fight in this room, and my gut told me Lilla was the instigator. Just like in the club, just like with the Arcadian warrior, I felt her energy, caught a lingering trace of her scent, sensual and exotic. My guess: I felt her because she was as powerful as the other Arcadian. I’d have to be careful with her.
I might not know what had suddenly allowed me to sense Arcadian energy today, but I was damn glad for the ability at the moment.
I motioned for the men to remain behind me, and I didn’t have to see their expressions to know I’d just pissed them off royally. Usually they moved ahead and cleared the way before I took the next room. Not this time. I wasn’t taking any chances. Screw their egos.
Noiselessly, I entered the moon-washed living room. A big bay window decorated the far wall, and the curtains gaped slightly down the middle. Couch cushions were strewn across the floor, the television was smashed to bits, but no life.
My heart slammed inside my rib cage, and I had to fight to keep my adrenaline rush under control. This was just like my vision. Total chaos, angry energy. Then death. I shivered and forced myself to breathe. I had to keep my mind cool. Calm. I paused a moment and simply listened. Silence.
No. No, there was a muffled sound, low and hurried, erratic, but there all the same. I waited, breath bated. There were three open doorways in the hall, no light emanating from any. Which room was the sound coming from? Damn it, I didn’t like this. The best course of action would be to check one myself and allow Dallas and Ghost to check the others, all at the same time.
I rejected that idea as soon as it formed and skirted around the wall ledge, the men close to my heels. I moved into the first room. Almost immediately, I noticed a woman sleeping on the bed. Pink silk sheets draped her from toe to shoulder. I was able to make out blond hair, but nothing more.
Four steps later, I stood at the side of the bed. Keeping my weapon locked on her chest, I freed a pair of laserbands from my waist and locked her wrists around the headboard. The bands pulsed with a slight, golden light as they bonded to her skin. She muttered something as she stirred. Her eyelids slowly opened.
The moment she spotted me, her jaw dropped, and she prepared to scream. I covered her mouth with my free hand, cutting off any sound. A second later, Ghost was beside me.
Someone moaned, and it wasn’t the bound woman. The sound had been too deep, too far away. Ghost put his hand over the woman’s mouth to replace mine. I spun, ready, and watched the doorway. The sound had come from one of the other rooms.
“We’re A.I.R. agents, ma’am,” Ghost whispered to the woman. “Be quiet, and you’ll be fine. Understand?”
She was glancing from one to the other, trembling so violently I feared she was having a seizure. Tears were filling her eyes, but she nodded. Shit, I inwardly cursed, as I looked at her more fully. She was just a kid. Probably eighteen, give or take a year.
Behind me, I heard a woman groan and shout, “Oh, God.”
I spun again and saw no one. And that’s when it hit me. We had been so careful, so discreet, and in all likelihood, we wouldn’t have been heard if we’d blown a trumpet to announce our presence. Hudson and Lilla were too busy screwing.
“Stay behind,” I told Dallas.
He gave a quick, jerky nod in the affirmative. Fury burned in his eyes.
Since the bedroom door was open, Ghost and I took opposite sides of the frame. Kittie made the end of the hallway his focal point. I concentrated on the couple. They were crouched on the floor, and Hudson gripped Lilla from behind. Her pale hair swayed each time his naked ass pounded forward. His hands roamed all over her, through her hair, over her breasts.
I had to admire his technique.
“On my count,” I mouthed silently.
I raised my index finger. One.
Middle finger.Two.
Another finger.Three.
We burst inside.
“Hands up,” Ghost shouted. “A.I.R.”
“Do it now,” Dallas yelled. Of course, he hadn’t stayed behind like I’d commanded.
Lilla screamed and jolted to her stomach. Hudson didn’t even turn. He was too busy reaching for his gun on the bedside table.
“Touch your weapon, and you die,” I told him calmly. “You’re fucked, Agent Hudson. And I don’t meant that literally.”
With his back still to me, he held his palms up and out as he eased back on his ankles.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” I said. “Understand?”
