by V. Vaughn
“Why?”
His smile fades a bit before he says, “If you prefer to hang out with Tori and remind her that you’re still human, that’s okay too.”
I glare at him. “Five minutes.” Jax walks over to the bed and sits on it as I stare at him in amazement. I say, “Ah, a little privacy would be nice.”
He scans my body with his gaze as he lets out a low noise from the back of his throat. “I’ve already seen it all, babe.”
I clench my teeth. “Fine.”
Jax’s laugh fills the room, and damn if I don’t like the sound. I head to the bathroom and shut the door hard behind me. I notice a pair of jeans, a university T-shirt, panties, and even a bra sitting on the counter. The fabric of the undergarment is soft when I lift it to discover it’s my size. It unnerves me a bit considering I locked my bedroom door last night, but I suppose I’m more of a prisoner than a guest in this house.
Mint flavor fills my mouth as I brush my teeth and go about getting ready to go out with Jax. When I get back to the bedroom Jax is on his phone, texting, and he looks at me as he stands. “Do you like music?”
I frown, because who doesn’t? “Sure.”
“After breakfast we’re visiting buddies of mine. They’re jamming this morning.”
I can’t help my smile. I love to sing, and my unique voice surprises people. I’m told I have a jazz club sound. Maybe I’ll get a chance to impress Jax. Whoa. I shouldn’t care what he thinks about me, because I’m not sticking around. I say, “Sounds fun.”
Our feet thump down the stairs, and when he gets to the bottom he turns to me and says, “It will be. I’m going to charm you with my mad musical skills.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “What do you play?”
“Sax mostly.” Of course he does. The deep, scratchy tones of a saxophone are some of the sexiest sounds I know, and it’s a nice mix with my gravelly voice, compliments of a vocal cord injury. My hand goes to my throat instinctively as I recall the day I almost died.
Jax opens the door to let us outside as I glance around to find nobody is monitoring our actions. I smile to myself as the scent of fresh-cut grass fills my nose. They’re underestimating me. As we approach Jax’s car I wonder if he’s going to cuff me, but don’t say anything as he opens my door.
When I get in the SUV he makes no motion to restrain me, and I begin to speak to distract him. “I never would have pegged you for a musician. You seem so--”
I pause, and he asks, “So what?” He turns on the engine, and it hums softly.
“Physical,” I say. “Like an athlete.”
“I can’t be both?”
“Well, sure. But you’re built like someone who spends hours in the gym each day.” It occurs to me that his brother said they were attending Bowdoin College, and it’s pretty close to the end of the semester. I wonder how he’s making things work since he took off at a moment’s notice to bring me here. I ask, “How do you find time to do it all?”
I gaze at the trees we drove past last night. They’re old oaks that are stately and add to the regal appearance of Tori’s mansion. Jax glances at me to wink and says, “I’m not human.”
I frown back at his non-answer. “Funny. But seriously, I must be keeping you from your responsibilities.”
“It’s the weekend,” says Jax. “But, yes, you are keeping me from my active social life.”
My chest tightens. Does Jax have a girlfriend? My jealousy turns to disgust when I recall what we did last night. What an ass. I say, “Tell her I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Jax slams on the brakes, and I jerk forward hard enough that the seatbelt cuts into my shoulder. “Hey!” I exclaim. I glance around to see what might have caused him to stop quickly, and when I find nothing I ask, “What the hell?”
“That’s what I was going to ask.” Jax glares at me, and I notice his eyes flash with something that’s not human. “I’ve had about enough of your prejudice. I’m not the scum of the earth, and it pisses me off that you keep assuming that.”
My ears burn at his accusation, and I say, “So you don’t have a girlfriend. Sorry.”
He shakes his head and glances up at the sky. “Why? You make me wait while everyone around me finds their true mate, and this is what I get?” He huffs and mutters, “Fuck me,” before he starts driving again.
Self-preservation makes me cross my arms and keep myself from snapping back at his insult. But as we wind along the country road I take a moment to think about Jax’s side in this mess. He walked into his apartment to discover his enemy chained to a chair. His first instinct was to kill me, because he said so. But once we touched he knew we were true mates. The very thing he’s been waiting for turned out to be someone he wanted to kill. I guess he’s not any happier about me being an Eradicator than I am about him being a werebear. I sigh. “I’m sorry. This isn’t any better for you than it is for me.”
He says, “It’s okay. You’ve got it way worse than I do.”
If it weren’t for Jax I’d probably be dead right now, and I reach my hand over to take his in a peace offering. Our connection zings to my heart, and a surge of warmth makes me mean it when I say, “Thank you for keeping me alive.”
His grip is strong when he squeezes my fingers back. “You’re welcome.”
I look at Jax and think about what kind of man he is. He saved me from death before he even knew anything about me. He stood up for me in front of his alpha, which I think had to be a big deal. Now he’s trying to keep me away from Tori and give me time to accept being with him.
He glances at me and smiles. I smile back as I think about how last night he wouldn’t screw me, even though I practically begged for it. I don’t think he’s playing games. I think he really does believe we’ll spend the rest of our life together, and I wonder what will happen to him when his true mate disappears. I ask, “Do werebear get married if they never find a true mate?”
Jax nods. “They can. But it’s rare, because if your true mate comes along, you can’t help but love them more than the one you’re with.”
“Wow. That’s harsh.”
“Yeah. Mostly older people who have lost their true mate marry someone else. I suppose it’s better than being alone.”
I can’t tell Jax I plan to escape, but I want to know what will happen to him when I do, so I ask, “What if Courtney had killed me before we met? Would you then have been destined to be alone?”
He glances at me quickly, and he slows the car as we approach a town. “I don’t know. Sometimes we get another true mate.”
Relief should wash over me, but I don’t let it. Sarcasm drips from my words as I reply, “Good. I’d hate to think I’m all you get.”
“Sasha. Unless you die, you are all I get.” He turns into a parking lot.
For a moment I consider the fact that me leaving means Jax will never have a true mate. I shake my head. Surely he could be happy with regular love the way humans are. When he cuts the engine I glance over at him. He’s more than hot--he’s a good person, and some girl will be lucky to find him.
6
The moment we enter the restaurant I form my plan to steal a phone. The place is like a diner, but it’s not a small establishment. Conversations buzz around us as we wait to be seated, and the aroma of sizzling meat makes my stomach rumble with hunger. I scan the crowd and see numerous devices set out on tables as patrons eat. This should be easy.
I say, “Wow, this is a popular spot.”
“College kids take their breakfast seriously,” says Jax as he glances down at me. “I don’t even know how old you are. Did you graduate already?”
I shake my head. “I was homeschooled and never saw a need for it.” There isn’t exactly a college major for the life of an assassin.
Jax frowns for a second, and I think realization hits him because he nods stoically. We don’t speak until after the hostess leaves us at a table. Before I sit I say, “I’m going to use the restroom. And don’t worry, I’m aware I wouldn
’t get far. I’ll come back.”
“There aren’t any windows anyway,” Jax says as he slides in our booth.
I don’t think I want to hear how he knows that about the ladies’ room, so I leave without asking. As I make my way to the bathroom, I spy the perfect candidates. Two girls are drinking coffee and picking at a plate of pancakes. Sparkly cases adorn their phones, which are set at the edge of their table near the aisle. When I walk by, I bump into their table as I swipe a device and knock their silverware to the floor.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” I say as I crouch down and retrieve the cutlery. I shove the phone into the large pocket of my sweatpants before I stand, and the utensils clatter when I return them to where they were. I place my hand on my chest as I give them my best apologetic look. “Would you like me to get the waitress to get you another fork?”
“Oh no, don’t worry about it,” says a blonde in a sugary voice. “I do stuff like that all the time.”
“If you’re sure,” I say.
Her friend says, “It’s fine. Really.”
“Okay. Again, I’m so sorry.” I roll my eyes as if I’m mortified and walk away.
Luckily nobody is in the bathroom, and the stall door reverberates with a metallic sound when I quickly shut it. The jewel-encrusted phone case is rough in my hand as I tap out my leader, Drake’s, number, and I chew on my nail as I wait for him to answer. When he does I say, “It’s Sasha.”
“Where are you?”
My throat tightens at his tone. He’s not happy, and I’m sure it’s because he knows Rand’s death is my fault, but I don’t have time to dwell on it, and I answer, “They have me.”
The door squeaks open, and even though there is another stall I call out to alert Drake that I can’t speak freely. “This one’s occupied.” I then say to my leader, “I can be at Rosie’s Diner in Orono at nine a.m. tomorrow.”
“Someone will be there.”
“That should be plural. Bye.”
The hand drier blasts at me as I make a show of washing up, and I hurry out before the blonde notices her phone is gone. My stomach lurches when I see her searching her large red purse. She says, “It was right on the table.” She glances up at her friend as her eyes widen. “Do you think the waitress took it?”
I train my eyes on her feet as I get closer, and while ignoring the girls I squat down and pull the phone from my pocket. When I stand I say to them, “This was under the table. Is it yours?”
“Oh, thank god you found it!” says the blonde. She clutches it to her chest. “I’d be so lost without this.”
“I know what you mean,” I say and walk away quickly before I get sucked into a conversation I have no interest in having. Inhaling deeply before I get to our table, I attempt to calm myself, and the vinyl seat is smooth under my bottom when I slide across it to join Jax.
When I notice my coffee cup is full I sigh and say, “Thanks for ordering this for me.”
Jax tilts his head at me and asks, “Making friends?”
“Oh. Ah. I saw a phone under their table and picked it up for them.”
He nods at me, and I wonder if he’s suspicious or if I’m being sensitive. I grab a menu and hide behind it so I don’t give myself away. I ask, “Are the waffles good here?”
“Everything’s good here.”
I set the menu down, and a sugar packet tears as I open it to put in my coffee. I ask, “Tell me more about your music. Do you play in a band?”
“I play in a concert band at school right now, but I used to play with the guys I’m taking you to see. They’d pull me in when they picked up wedding gigs and wanted a heavy brass section.”
My spoon clinks on my cup as I say, “You’re a performer. That suits you.”
He grins at me. “Yeah?”
I nod. “I can totally see you charming the bridesmaids.”
Jax scowls. “What do you want to know about my past, Sasha? Because the snide comments about me being a player are getting old.”
Good question. Am I jealous of Jax’s old girlfriends? This guy is growing on me. “I was just teasing. Sorry. New subject.” I waggle my eyebrows at him. “What’s your major?”
“Lame,” he says as the waitress approaches us. We place our order, and when she leaves he asks, “What about you? Do you play any musical instruments?” He pauses, and the look he gives me makes me think he’s considering something. Jax asks, “Why do I have a feeling you’re a singer? You have a scratchiness to your voice that makes me think you’d belt out a jazz tune well.”
Wow. I wonder if the true mate connection offers insight into each other. I shrug. “I can sing okay. And pick out a tune on a guitar if necessary.” I lift my coffee to take a sip.
“Good. Today will be fun. Maybe I’ll get you to sing for me.”
“Maybe.” I smile at the man I’m beginning to like, as plates of food thump down before us. As we eat, I let myself fantasize about what a life with him could be like. But it’s stupid to go down that path, and I stop quickly. In less than twenty-four hours I’ll be on my way home, and while I’m sure I’ll be punished for what happened to Rand, I think the information I’ve gathered about werebear will put me back in Drake’s good graces.
Jax says, “I think you like the waffles. You stopped talking.”
I notice he’s made a good dent in his eggs and say, “They’re great. Can we eat here again tomorrow?”
Jax chuckles before he says, “Sure.”
I nod toward his meal that is disappearing faster than mine and ask, “How about yours?”
“Taste.” Jax lifts up a forkful of food toward me, and I let him feed me. When I close my lips over the fork and it slides out he sighs. I gaze at him as the memory of his cock in my mouth makes desire pulse through me. Stabbing pain shoots through my heart when it hits me that the first thing Drake is going to do is order a hit on the man who kidnapped me. Oh, Jax.
Maybe I could convince-- I swallow the lump of food in my mouth. While Tori may be willing to keep me alive, the same can’t be said of Drake. My raspy voice is proof that consequences for crimes are strong reminders our leader has zero tolerance for anything that impedes our mission. The man across from me is as good as dead.
7
After we finish breakfast, Jax drives us toward his friends’ house. He says, “The place they rent is awesome. It’s a big farmhouse, and we play in the barn.” I gaze at the forest of thick pine trees that line the windy road we’re on. I can’t shake the thought that Jax is going to die because of me. Of course he’s a werebear, and that’s the way it has to be, but for a moment I flirt with the idea of telling him so he can run and hide. But I know that would be futile. Jax isn’t the kind of guy to run from danger. The way he stood up to his alpha to protect me proved it.
I say, “That sounds nice.”
My voice mustn’t hide my concern for Jax, because he asks, “Are you afraid about meeting my friends? Because they don’t know what you are and are going to assume you’re just a human girl.”
The burn of tears is at the back of my eyes, and I’m surprised at the weakness. I swallow back the urge to cry and say, “I’m okay. I was just thinking about home.”
Jax reaches over and takes my hand. “Are you missing your parents?”
I think normal people would, but once I was chosen as a warrior the time I spent with my family was limited. It’s important for an assassin to cut ties to loved ones so there are no distractions. Drake believes strong love connections make us weak. Relationships beyond the physical were forbidden. I wonder if that’s why Jax’s love for me is making this so hard. It’s been a long time since someone cared this much for me. I lie. “I am a little homesick.” I shrug. “It’ll pass.”
“If you want to see your parents again, Sasha, I’ll make it happen.” He squeezes my fingers before he lets go. “Your happiness matters to me.”
I swear, this guy is chipping away at my heart of stone, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I suppose i
t’s a good thing I’ll be out of here tomorrow morning, because I’m becoming weaker every minute. I throw out the reply I think he’s looking for. “That’s generous of you. Thanks.”
Jax says, “Not really. I bet you’d do the same for me. As we’re true mates, I don’t think we can help it.”
Oh Jax, you’re so wrong. While you’re worried I’m being torn from my family, I’m keeping the fact you’re going to die at the hands of the Eradicators tomorrow a secret. Your true mate, buddy, is your worst nightmare. My stomach clenches as if I ate something bad, and I mumble, “I suppose.”
We turn onto a dirt road, and Jax’s SUV bounces over large ruts as we make our way slowly toward the farmhouse. The white home has deep-red trim and shutters that match the quintessential version of the barn set back a bit behind it. I expect to see a man in overalls come to greet us with a piece of grass in his teeth, but instead guys as large as Jax in T-shirts and jeans do instead.
When I get out of the car Jax introduces me to his five friends. I realize Jax didn’t bring a saxophone with him, and I guess that’s because he rushed me away from Brunswick and didn’t have time to get it. But when we get in the barn Brad says, “I brought Matilda for you.”
“I love that old girl,” says Jax as he walks over to the case. The locks snap open, and I watch as he removes the instrument with the tenderness one would use with a baby. He assembles the instrument as music begins to play. I find a stool, and the wood is hard under my bottom as I sit to listen.
Sunlight filters in through a window up in the loft, and I watch dust dance in the rays of light as if it’s moving to the beat. The guys are good musicians, but when Jax begins to play everything changes. It’s as if he’s now the star and the rest of the instruments have been muted to let him shine.
I watch his fingers press on the keys with effortless movement as the deep sound of his sax fills me. I feel as if he’s playing just for me, and the emotions bubbling at my surface surge forward as tears prick at my eyes. I blink quickly to keep them at bay. What is wrong with me? I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on the music instead. I let my body sway with it as I drink in the melody.
