Savor Me Slowly (Alien Huntress #3) - Page 38/41

Clink.

She worked on her ankles. Another clink, followed quickly by another. And just like that, she was completely free.

That’s my girl. “Remind me never to tie you up in bed.”

“For you, I’d pretend to be helpless and—” Suddenly her shoulders stiffened. Her head tilted to the side, expression pensive as if she were listening to a conversation. “Nolan’s coming.”

Jaxon listened. He didn’t hear anything.

Mishka slipped her hands back into the chains, though she left the circles wide enough to pull herself free again without any adjustment.

A few seconds later, Jaxon’s ears twitched as a soft pitter-patter of footsteps finally reached him. How had she heard that?

The footsteps grew in volume until Nolan was standing in front of the bars that replaced the door.

To his credit, he did not appear smug. He appeared sad.

“So,” Nolan said. “You are awake.”

“I thought you wanted to destroy your brethren for their sins,” Jaxon said darkly.

The alien’s fingers curled around the bars, stark against the blackened metal. He still wore his ring. “I lied. Part of me did, anyway.” He looked to the ground. “I’m sorry, so very sorry. I just want to live. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Mishka said, “but did you have to take us down with you?”

“Yes,” Nolan said on a sigh. “I did. I’m only surprised you trusted me, even a little.”

“Why did you help defeat us?” Jaxon barked.

Another sigh. “Every time we are forced to travel to a new planet, we must first regain our strength. The only way to do that is through sex and the releasing of the virus. As we regain our strength, we look for ways to destroy our biggest threat so that the rest of us can come over.”

Dear God. There were more of them.

“Here,” Nolan continued, “our biggest threat is A.I.R.”

“So you, what? Pretended to want to help us to learn our identities?”

Nolan nodded. “Yes. But you ignored me for days at a time, did not introduce me to anyone else, and kept disappearing so that we could not follow you. Your technology is more advanced than that of the other planets, and we did not know what else to do.”

“Why not simply kill us?” Mishka asked.

Nolan’s features actually blanched. “We aren’t monsters. We wanted to offer you choices.”

Choices? “Like what?” Jaxon asked. “’Cause the only thing I’m willing to agree to is your absolute surrender.”

“Not going to happen,” Nolan said. He scrubbed a hand down his tired face. “We can infect you and teach you how to survive with the virus. We will be brothers, then, and you will fight with us rather than against us.”

Mishka arched a brow. “Why didn’t you teach the people on the other planets how to survive?”

“And have more competition for females?”

“Why us?” Jaxon asked.

Nola smiled, sadness clinging to the edges. “You’re strong, smart. When this planet falls, and it will, you will help us find other worlds, other women.”

“No, thanks.” Mishka shook her head. “Next.”

Anger flittered over the otherworlder’s face. “We can kill you.”

“I thought you weren’t monsters,” Jaxon said.

Nolan’s shoulders squared. “Death would be your choice. Therefore, it would not be murder.”

“Next,” Mishka said.

“We can use you as bait to draw out other agents. Agents we will capture and offer the same choice,” Nolan said. “Someone will choose to join us.”

“Next.”

“That’s it,” Nolan gritted out. “Those are your only options.”

“You could forcibly infect us,” Jaxon said. “So why don’t you?”

Anger finally fading, Nolan gazed down at his feet and kicked a mound of dirt. “You are warriors. Like us. We do respect that.”

“And?” Mishka insisted. “There’s more than simple respect. I can tell.”

Jaxon knew she could have killed Nolan at any point during the conversation, but she was as hungry for answers as he was.

“Taking choice from a warrior is dishonorable and wrong. I know because my choice was taken.” Nolan rested his forehead against the bars. “One day a woman lovelier than anything I had ever seen arrived on our planet. She was like your sun, bright and glorious, blinding to all else. We could not help ourselves. We worshipped her, did anything she desired. And in return, she infected us. One by one. You see, she is the original host, the first carrier.”

Is. Not was. Jaxon’s stomach clenched. “She’s still alive?”

A nod.

“She’s coming here, isn’t she?” Mishka asked.

Another nod, this one shamed. “As soon as A.I.R. is weakened, she will come. That is another of the reasons we have not killed you outright. As much as we despise her and hope to never see her again, we are helpless against her. She speaks and we obey. But you are not so compelled.”

“We can kill her for you,” Jaxon suggested.

Hope curtained Nolan’s expression for the briefest of moments. Then he shook his head. “When she dies, we die. Or so she says. I want her dead, but I do not want to die. I want to live. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To live and be happy. To love. Like you.” His arms fell to his sides. “Think about all I have said. Please.” He backed up a step.

“Nolan?” Mishka said, stopping him.

He appeared weary as he said, “Yes?”

“I’m sorry.” There was true sincerity in her tone.

“About?”

“This.” She was standing at the bars in the next instant, having moved so fast she’d been nothing more than a black blur. Her arms reached through the bars and latched onto Nolan.

The alien’s eyes nearly bugged as she squeezed his neck, one of her rings digging deep.

Jaxon knew she could have snapped his neck, could have killed him instantly, but she merely sought to put him to sleep. Nolan struggled, trying to rip her hands away. Mishka held tight. Finally, the otherworlder’s wheezing stopped and he slumped to the dirt-laden floor.

She released him with a mournful sigh.

“Sure he’s not faking?” Jaxon asked her. “Our drugs may not work on otherworlders.”

“I’m sure. His body chemistry and his vitals have calmed completely.”

“Good. Unlock me, sweetheart. They can communicate through their minds, and if he told the others you were free, they’ll be down here soon. And we need all the time we can get to free Lucius.”

Expression pensive, she rushed to his side and began working at his chains, her metal finger acting as the key. While she worked, her ears twitched as if she were listening to a conversation he could not hear. “They’re not gearing for attack. They’re…” She frowned. “They are watching a movie, I think. A dreadful one, at that, with a gunfight and shitty dialogue. ‘I don’t know how much longer I can hold them, Tyler. You must, you’re our only hope.’ They’re laughing about it, at least.”

Humor burst through him, and he rubbed at his now free wrists. He knew she’d relayed the bit of conversation for his benefit. “Probably hope to learn all of our secrets through our programming.”

“We’re going to have to kill them. Even Nolan.”

“I know.”

“I just couldn’t do it. Not to him, not yet. I’m pissed at him, but anyway”—she waved her hand through the air—“after we’ve killed the others, we can question Nolan about the queen.”

“I know,” he repeated. And he did. Nolan wasn’t too bad a guy. Not great, but not as horrible as some Jaxon had encountered. Still, the Earth’s safety, Mishka’s safety, came first. Always. Ultimately, they would kill him.

“Stupid of me to wait,” she whispered.

“No, compassionate. It’s a good goal, finding love. No one should die without knowing it.” He paused, his mind churning with all the things that could go wrong. “We have to kill them without making them bleed and we have to kill them fast enough that they aren’t able to disappear on us.”

“Yes.”

She unsnapped his ankles, and he rubbed those, too. “Mia and the others should be here soon, but I’m afraid they won’t have any more luck against the invisibility than we did. Any ideas? I mean, right now we’re pretty much weaponless.”

“Right now we are.”

His brow rose in question as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

“Give me ten minutes. If I can’t put a pyre-gun in your hand in ten minutes, I’ll give you a blow job later in apology.”

“Baby, you need motivation to succeed, not fail.”

A laugh bubbled from her, delighting him.

“Besides, I’d rather you just moved in with me.”

Obviously not the response she’d expected. “Wh-what?”

“I love you, and I want you living with me.” Reaching down, he grabbed her arm and hoisted her up. “Marriage, too, but I figured I’d shove that little gem at you once I’d gotten you addicted to hot-water showers and chocolate.”

Chocolate. She’d read about it. Sweet and delicious, a rare treat since most cocoa plants had been burned, the fields wiped out during the human-alien war. “I—I—you love me?”

Jaxon tugged her to the bars and she crouched, working on the tumbler. Her hands were shaking. “I thought it was obvious when I didn’t shove my foot so far up Estap’s ass it had to be removed surgically,” he said. “Instead, I saved him for you.”

She nibbled on her lower lip, silent.

“Say something. I’m dying here.”

“I’ll say something,” Lucius’s voice echoed from the next cell over. “That ten minutes is ticking, sweetheart. Do I get to reap the rewards, too?”

The lock fell open and Mishka straightened.

Jaxon ran his tongue over his teeth, though he knew Lucius wasn’t serious. The man was too in love with Eden. Otherwise, Jaxon would’ve had to kill him. Violently.

“You can tell me how much you love me later,” Jaxon said.

“Let’s go kill us some Schön. Just don’t be surprised when I kick those pyre-guns out of your hands.”

CHAPTER 26

Mind on the task at hand, mind on the task at hand. Hard to concentrate, though, when one simple phrase kept drifting through Mishka’s mind: He loves me. Earlier he’d mentioned keeping her, perhaps adopting children one day. But love? In all her wildest dreams, she’d never considered such a possibility. Hoped, yes. But a strong, intelligent man choosing her above all else? Of his own free will? A miracle!

She unchained Lucius, knowing she sported a stupid grin. Jaxon and I will spend the rest of our lives together.

Rest of our lives. Okay, that phrase managed to overshadow the other. How long did they have? How long did she have? Would his life end here as Dallas thought?

No, she couldn’t let herself think like that. The Schön had overpowered them once; the bastards wouldn’t do so again. She would make sure of it.

Part of her wanted to take the Schön all by herself. A few weeks ago, she would have. Would have put Jaxon and Lucius to sleep or rechained them and left them in the cells. What happened afterward, the consequences of her actions, would not have mattered. But now, everything mattered.

She could kill a few of the otherworlders on her own, but probably not all. They could use their invisibility and escape or overtake her. They could get to Jaxon, kill him before she realized they’d left the room. And if they left the building and decided A.I.R. no longer deserved a choice about the disease, Jaxon, if he survived today, would be at risk for infection.

None of those options appealed to her.

The Schön had to die, and the best way to ensure that was to fight them as a team.

Without her toys, she did not know the layout of the building or the position of the aliens. Yet she needed to sneak quietly and invisibly and confiscate a few pyre-guns.

“Once I’ve gotten my hands on the weapons, I think our best course of action is to set the pyre-guns to stun,” she said, “flip out the lights so they can’t see us, either, and start shooting. Stun won’t affect either of you, and hopefully they won’t be able to see you.”

“What about you?” Jaxon asked.

She shrugged as if it didn’t even bear considering. “I have alien parts. If I get hit, I’ll freeze.”

“And I won’t be able to see you to know it, which means I won’t be able to protect you.” He raked a hand through his choppy hair. “Since we don’t have the guns, don’t know where they are, and can’t guarantee we’ll get them, I guess I shouldn’t get too worked up about the possibility.”

“I still have eight minutes and eleven seconds.” She said the last over her shoulder, striding from the cell and into the hallway. Someone else’s home, a human most likely, since pictures adorned the walls. Two women in their early twenties. Pretty. Arms wrapped around each other. A good chance they were sisters, since they both possessed the same sloping nose. A good chance they were already dead. What a waste. “Follow me, but don’t talk. Okay?”

Neither responded. Good. Increase ear volume.

Percentage?

Fifty. The sounds of that movie already blasted through her mind, making her cringe. Louder and louder…The hammer of multiple triggers, the shuffle of footsteps, the fall of a vase. More of that discordant laughter. She frowned. Should a movie gunfight last this long? And were there female Schön? Because that time, Mishka had definitely heard a few women.