Savor Me Slowly (Alien Huntress #3)(69)
Author: Gena Showalter

Mia laughed without humor. “You’ll never change. I did a little digging since locking you up. Found where you were staying while working with Nolan. Found your notebook.”

Every bit of warmth drained from her cheeks.

“That’s right. I saw your list. Thirty-eight ways to kill Jaxon. Slitting his throat while he sleeps was my favorite. Poisoning the food in his house while he’s out on assignment was my second choice, though.”

She closed her eyes. Shit! She’d made that list to protect him. If she knew how an enemy, an alien—Estap—might try to hurt him, she could help him prepare against it. She could take measures to stop it from happening.

She opened her mouth, closed it. Really, there was no way to defend herself. Not with this. She’d tell Jaxon and he’d…what? Her stomach churned. Would he believe her? Don’t think about it now. Keep your defenses up or Mia will flay you alive.

“I was always polite to you when we were both teaching at the training camp because we had to set an example for the students,” Mia said. “There aren’t any impressionable young minds here right now, so you’ll get nothing from me but contempt.”

Polite? Whatever. Mia had antagonized her at every opportunity. A cutting remark here, flipping her off there. “Some friend you are.”

Fury glazed over Mia’s blue eyes. “I’ve been his friend a lot longer than you have. I’ve bled for him, killed for him.”

“So have I!”

“Mmm, catfight,” a male voice said.

Mishka cursed under her breath. Great. Dallas.

The agent stood beside Mia, towering over her. Mishka noticed the way he kept himself an inch or so in front so that he could shield the woman if necessary and protect her.

How had the bloodthirsty Mia Snow earned the respect of two such powerful men?

“Come to join the fun?” Mishka asked him dryly.

His amused expression faded, revealing the lines of tension bracketing his eyes and fanning to his temples. He looked tired and stressed. “I’ve been thinking about you. About what to do with you.”

That grim tone said more than his words. “And?” She eased up, dropped her bare feet over the edge of the cot and onto the cold tile floor. If he pulled a gun, she’d have to hurt him. And she didn’t want to hurt him. Jaxon would be upset.

Kyrin closed the distance between him and Mia and wrapped an arm around her waist. Mia leaned into him, as if she knew she belonged there and knew she would not be met with resistance. Mishka had to look away. Her chest hurt. One day Jaxon might hold her like that. So easily, so casually.

“And?” she repeated.

“You have to die,” Dallas said. He didn’t pull a weapon, just stood there, watching her reaction.

She revealed nothing because she felt nothing. He wasn’t the first man to want her dead. “Why?”

“Your list, for starters.”

She swallowed. Again, no way to defend herself. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Second, I see things. Visions, and—”

“Dallas!” Mia snapped at him. “Don’t. She can’t be trusted. She—”

He placed a gentle hand on the agent’s shoulder, and Mia quieted. They looked at each other, silently communicating. They loved each other, that much was obvious. Not as lovers, but as longtime friends. Buddies. Brother and sister. They were comfortable with each other, affectionate and protective.

A pang of envy shot through Mishka.

“I sometimes see the future,” Dallas continued, turning back to her, “and what I’ve seen concerning you is not good. Especially since the other visions I’ve had have not been wrong.”

Dread squeezed at her stomach all the more intently, but she said, “I place no value on visions.”

One of his dark brows arched. “Really? So it doesn’t bother you that I think Jaxon is going to die trying to save you?”

The ominous words echoed in her mind. Jaxon is going to die trying to save you. No. No! She did not place any value on visions, but the mere thought of Jaxon being hurt nearly felled her.

In all her imaginings of the future, Jaxon lived a long and happy life. Without her, yes. Without another woman, well, yes. Mishka did not like to entertain the idea of him with someone else, loving the faceless woman, waking up with her every morning. But never had she considered him dead. Never.

Truth in the agent’s claim?

Ninety-seven percent chance he believes what he said.

No, she thought again. She shook her head violently, whipping strawberry-colored strands of hair against her cheeks. “I’ll protect him. I won’t let anything happen to him.” I’m going to die. Not him.

“You may not have a choice.”

Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits, his warning playing through her mind yet again. “You said you think he’ll die. You think or you know?”

A muscle ticked under his eye. “Think. I haven’t seen him take his final breath.”

Her shoulder straightened, hope beaming bright rays inside her. “What did you see? Exactly?”

“Him, begging for your life. Him, fighting to get to you. You, shooting him in the heart.”

“He’s not going to suffer a single scratch,” she said, because she still couldn’t believe otherwise. “I won’t let him.” But part of her feared Dallas’s words all the way to her bones, and she floundered with what to do.

They just want to drive me away, and they would do and say anything to make it happen. True, so true. “I’m going to help him with this case, and then I’m going to disappear. Okay? None of you will have to see me again. Until then, leave me the hell alone.”

“Mishka!”

“Jaxon?” Surprise, relief, and joy shot through her like rockets. Her eyes widened and she popped to her feet. Jaxon was here! Her heart pounded inside her chest, and every nerve inside her body suddenly tingled. He was back! He was alive and well.

For the moment, Dallas’s warning faded to the back of her mind. Only one thing mattered just then: being in her man’s arms.

“Where is she?” He sounded closer.

“Jaxon!” She raced toward the door just as he shoved past Dallas and Mia.

He spotted her and opened his arms. She plowed into his strength. She wanted to kiss him but she ended up shaking him. “Don’t leave like that again!”

He cupped the back of her neck and pierced her with his gaze. She noticed worry lines around his mouth. His muscles were tense underneath her hands.