Savor Me Slowly (Alien Huntress #3)(59)
Author: Gena Showalter

“While you think about it,” Jaxon said, “why don’t you explain how studying the disease helps spread it? We have labs, ways of containing—”

Nolan was shaking his head again, more insistently this time. “The only word that comes close to describing the virus is to say that it is alive. There, that should answer both of your questions. It is alive, able to communicate with itself even while living inside different hosts, and it will not leave a host for mast***ation. Ever. There is no other host to be found that way. Having blood drawn, however, does provide another host. Ultimately.”

“How?” she and Jaxon asked in unison. She glanced at him, but he was watching Nolan.

“The virus may not be able to stay inside a body when forced out through a syringe, but it can sense another living being. The person drawing the blood, the lab technician…the virus will find a way inside the person. If your doctors have drawn samples, they are now infected, for the only way to destroy the virus is to kill the host without bloodshed.”

Le’Ace tilted her head to the side, studied him. “That means you must be killed.”

“Yes,” he said on a sad sigh.

“And yet you are fighting to live.” The moment she spoke, the words and their meaning hammered inside her brain. She gave a little laugh. What a hypocrite I am. She’d always done the same for herself: live, even though others were hurt because of it. “There are things you wish to experience before you die. That is why you seek protection.”

Surprise brightened the pinpricks of light in his eyes; he nodded. “Yes.”

“Your life will destroy others,” she said, knowing she was speaking about herself, as well. No more, she thought. Earlier, she’d considered allowing herself to be killed; now she knew she must.

There was no other option for her. There never had been. She’d been foolish to ever think otherwise.

She didn’t let herself ponder it further, didn’t let herself experience a single flicker of emotion about it. Not here, not now.

“Love,” Nolan said sadly. “I dream of a single taste.”

As had she.

“Once I have known love, I can die a happy man.”

Her gaze sought Jaxon. He was still watching Nolan, though she thought perhaps his peripheral attention was focused solely on her. Love. She had finally found hers, the one man destined to steal her heart. Now that the end loomed near, she could admit it wholeheartedly. She loved him. She did.

He’d given her everything.

In return, she would do everything in her power to help Jaxon with this case. She owed him that much. Then…yeah. Then.

CHAPTER 19

Jaxon remained in night’s shadows as Mishka escorted Nolan and his two guards to an upscale apartment complex. First they’d walked the busy sidewalks, then they’d caught a cab, and now they were walking again, striding past a spiked white gate. Only the guards seemed on alert. Nolan and Mishka were too busy chatting.

Damned irritating, that’s what it was.

The gate closed behind them automatically, and they soon disappeared inside the towering building of lovely red brick and mortar. Well, metal painted to look that way. After the human-alien war, most homes and businesses had been rebuilt to better withstand fire, bombs, and strange alien powers.

Though he, Mishka, and Nolan planned to meet again in the morning, Jaxon knew Mishka would leave Nolan tonight and come to him. At least, she had better. He glanced at the soft green glow of his watch: 9:27 P.M. He’d give her fifteen minutes before going in. If, during that time, Nolan touched her or she touched Nolan, Nolan would take his last breath tonight.

Five minutes, and Jaxon was going in.

He didn’t trust Nolan and didn’t want Mishka alone with the disease-carrying bastard. Especially now that he knew a fertile female was not needed to spread that living virus.

“I can get you in the building,” Eden said in his ear. The van and all the other agents had followed him. Easy enough, since he’d allowed himself to be injected with that tracking isotope a few days ago.

“Not yet.” He propped his shoulder against the wall beside him. The little side street bustled with apartments and shops. People meandered on the walkways, neon signs flashed, and cars purred past.

“Just kill them both.” This time, it was Mia’s hard voice in his ear. “Waiting around is dumb. We’re not going to learn anything new, and we’re probably being set up.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he lied. He’d removed the rubber from his nose and jaw, cleaned the makeup off his face. Not because Mishka and Nolan had recognized him, but because he wanted nothing in the way when he claimed Mishka’s mouth.

And he would claim it. Hard and hot and insistent.

First, of course, he would demand answers. The job had to take precedence over desire. Stupid job.

What would her reaction be when he kissed her? Would she want him to kiss her?

He’d never really had to work for anything. Well, except for females and sex, and those only because of his scars. He’d taken to A.I.R. like a baby took to breast-feeding. Natural instinct, as if he’d been born for it. Yet it hadn’t mattered. He could have been fired, and it would not have destroyed him. The women hadn’t mattered, either. They had left him, and he’d been happier for it.

Now, someone did matter. She was not easy, was proving to be the biggest challenge of his life, and none of his worth could buy her. But he was unwilling to move on. He had to have more of her.

For once, he was absolutely prepared and happy to do the work. For her. She’d probably reject him a thousand times; after all, self-preservation had been beaten into her. That just meant he had to pursue her a thousand and one times, he told himself.

Victory would be his.

“Well, well, well,” Mia said, tone heavy with disgust.

The white gate groaned open, and Jaxon snapped from his musings. Suddenly Mishka was there, only a few yards away. She had not changed clothes, had not removed the wig, and still looked like an expensive hooker, short hair slicked back to a high gloss. She remained in place, searching the darkness.

His heart galloped, his blood heated, his dick swelled, completely unconcerned about its potential audience. When it came to Mishka, he should have been used to that uncontrollable reaction.

He wasn’t.

His mouth watered for her; he’d been without her too long. He thought, f**k answers. Her first. Questions later.

Stepping from the shadows and into a beam of light, he strode to her, his long steps eating up the distance. Her eyes widened when she spotted him. Not in surprise because she’d known he would follow, but in arousal. Yeah, she wanted his kiss.