This new Jaz wasn’t the girl he’d known, driven to be a businesswoman, to run her own empire. This Jaz had an edge, a darkness in her eyes that said she’d seen a little of Hell in the past ten years. And damn if that edge didn’t make her hotter.
With rose fragrance and Jaz’s warmth soothing his senses more than they’d been in a decade, Xylvar fell into a deep sleep.
The soft fragrance drew him like a bear to a honey-soaked hive. Her curls, finest silk-satin, tumbled and clung to his fingers in wanton abandon as he drew them to his face and inhaled the feminine sweetness. The edge of her ear, small and sensitive begged to be nipped, and kisses to be trailed down it, dipping under to the soft skin behind. Her delicate moan drew him to continue kissing across and under her jaw, up to the impossibly sweet bow of her lips.
A gasp opened her mouth, let him deepen the kiss and taste her minty fresh toothpaste and the woman herself. Her arms wrapped around a shoulder and his head, holding him to her so he could feed the hunger, share his appetite, and let him feast.
He waited, waited till she hungered as much as he before sliding a hand up under her top to cup a heavy breast. A slide of his thumb, and he found the peaked nipple, felt its desire to be teased, stroked, and suckled.
Mouth and tongue still teasing hers, he shifted to push the fabric of her top to expose her breasts, but once they were free, he had to look, had to see as well as feel their perfection.
His mouth missed hers while he gazed at the bounty before him. Full and firm, her breasts were tipped with dark, dusky pink tips. The skin was softer than he imagined, smoother than warm, polished marble.
And then he took a single peak into his mouth, running his tongue over it while he smoothed the quivering skin of her abdomen. His body hummed, filled with heat and…he opened his eyes, found his hands full of her hair.
On a hard breath, he rolled to the side, jerked and then untangled his hand from her curls as if their very softness electrified the coils. He ran his gaze over her. Hunger and anger slammed into him at the danger his filthy brain had put him in. An avenger against his own longings, he slid to the very edge of the bed and clenched his fingers into fists, still tingling as if he’d really stroked that fine skin.
What if he’d actually molested her in her sleep? Sure, he couldn’t rape her, but he still had hands and mouth and a man’s sexually starved mind. Kaid would rightfully gut him for carrying out his depraved desires, or worse, pity him.
He looked at the soft glow of the time of the LED clock built into his bedside. Two-fifteen. Well, looked like he’d be running on two hours sleep. Tomorrow night he’d take some Zonx. It not only made you sleep, it killed dreams. And killing dreams seemed ideal while he had to share a bed with the one woman capable of resurrecting his dead libido.
#
At the soft buzz of her built-in bedside clock, Jasmine woke to find herself alone, and Xylvar’s side of the bed cool. She hurried for the bathroom to shower and dress for the day, because they needed to hit the Loose Moose for breakfast. This afternoon she’d need to hit a gym, and find a safe area to practice her knife and star throwing. Sabbatical or not, she needed to keep her skill set sharp.
She found him in the unlit, gloomy living room, chair angled to see outside. His body language, turned away, slightly hunched, said he wasn’t in the mood for chat, from her or anything living.
Great. Should be a perfect day.
She could see he’d used some of his exercise equipment Kaid had moved from Xylvar’s apartment and installed on the far side of the room.
“Are you ready to leave for the café?” Today they had to plant listening devices.
“Been ready for hours.” He nodded out the window. “Our neighbors had visitors last night.”
“After we went to bed?” She might have been half asleep, but she would have heard if someone visited next door.
“Arrived about four this morning. Came to their back entrance.” He turned his tablet toward her, tapped the screen. A small vid started playing of two people dressed in dark, shapeless clothes. They knocked once, then let themselves in the back door. Ten minutes later, they left via the backyard by climbing the back fence.
“Odd.” An understatement, but it sure gave credence to Xylvar’s neighbor paranoia. “Vanessa and James might be a cozy couple, but they’re also a cozy couple with secrets.”
“They’re not who they say they are.”
“True. But it’s not our worry. Who they are, and what they’re watching for, doesn’t have anything to do with us. This unit was only just rented.”
“Yeah. Hacked into a few systems. Our neighbors rented their unit a day after our lease was signed by the fictitious Storm and Todd.”
“You think Kaid has a leak?” Rich thought the FBPI might have leaks in the ranks.
“A leak or a hacker.”
“Shit.”
“I rescanned the unit this morning, found this inside our locking mechanism of our front door.” He held out his hand and showed a crushed, silvery object no bigger than a ladybug.
“It’s a listening device?”
“Small range, not a lot of power, and I doubt they heard much with it inside the lock, especially since I think they hadn’t pushed it in far enough so it go crushed. Idiots. It was already damaged when I found it, but it could have interfered with our lock system. Made us vulnerable to a break-in.”
“And the planting of more listening devices?”
“Or worse, since we don’t know who we’re dealing with. I’ve sent Kaid a message, but scrambled it so nobody will know I sent one, or that he received a message to his personal link. I already have layers of protective walls coded into my cyber tablet, but I implemented more this morning, so it should be hack-proof. I want to add the same measures to yours.”
Her heart thrummed in a way that said her system was ready to shoot out a whole pile of adrenaline or beat the crap out of someone. Jasmine walked over and grabbed her tablet off the dining table and gave it to him. She could do her own coding, but hey, his doing so would give her time for a coffee. She keyed in her password, and then ran her thumb over the fingerprint identifier. “You’re in, do whatever you have to do.”
He took the tablet, and looked up into her eyes. “Sleep well?” He asked in a tone that somehow made her pause.
His face, one she’d already typed as a winner at poker games out-pokered itself. If he’d been cast in plaster when asleep she figured she’d have seen more emotion on his face. He started typing code into her link.
When in doubt, answer a question with a question. “You?”
“Great.” His eyes didn’t even shimmer with movement, remaining intensely focused on what he was doing…yet it felt as if his gaze raked her naked. Or his gaze had seen her naked. God, had her top ridden up last night, flashing things she didn’t want flashed? Had she muttered obscenities in her sleep, let slip how good-looking she found him?
Ah, crap. Freaking brilliant. Not only did it mean she had to share a bed with him, it meant he got to hear whatever her vocal cords wanted to share. Oh, Xylvar I was so in love with you. Oh, Xylvar when you left you broke my heart. Oh, Xylvar, the longer you were absent from my life, the more I hated you.
Stupid, thin walls.
Stupid neighbors who heard things through those walls.
10
Chapter Ten
Since they might be under surveillance, and their neighbors the culprits, Xylvar dropped Jasmine off at a small mall and continued driving around the block while she hurried inside.
Inside the handmade chocolate store, Jasmine gaped at the assorted flavors of chocolate, as well as truffles and cocoa bars. Rich, decadent aromas invaded every air molecule until Jasmine could almost taste them. She stood in a short line and waited for her turn.
Once at the counter, an older female Eli met her gaze. “Can I help you?”
“There should be an order awaiting my collection. Name on top is the letter X.”
Si
lver swirled in the female’s Eli’s eyes and dusted the skin across her cheeks as she bent to look under the counter. She retrieved a large gold box wrapped in a red ribbon, and slid it into a dark purple potato-starch-paper bag. “Hope you enjoy the selection we’ve chosen.”
Jasmine casually took the handles of the carry bag. “I’m sure we will.” She hurried outside and waited for Xylvar. An annoying tingle, almost an ache, started at the back of her neck. She casually glanced around, took in the people, the cars nearby. Someone was watching her. Body shimmering with taut nerves, she stepped back into the protection of the mall’s outside awning.
On high alert, she carefully pulled her beast to the surface while suppressing her silver.
Traffic was constant down the main road that led east to west. Most of the vehicles were only a few years old or newer, since electric hydrogen motors had a use-by life, and the entire vehicle could be recycled. About six shades of blue seemed to be the most popular color but it was an ordinary silver car that caught her eye. Twice she thought it passed her, going each way, as if it did a U-turn half a block down.
Something cold and eerie crawled up her spine, and she tightened her hands on the bag carrying the chocolates. A warning from her other senses, or nerves stroking at the paranoia Xylvar’s news about their neighbors had unleashed earlier. Time to make a better assessment. She headed for the sidewalk beside the road, and, pretending to look at her feet as if bored while she waited for her ride, watched the silver car drive west.
A common brand in the lower end of the middle-income market. The same brand and color as the one belonging to Vanessa and James.
The coldness at her spine spread across her shoulders, iced the base of her skull. Who were these neighbors, and why were they interested in Jasmine and Xylvar, Storm and Todd? Were they Pure supporters, part of the racist plague slowly spreading its grasping arms across the continent and the world?
Or just people living a dark life who were paranoid about their new neighbors?
Xylvar pulled to the curb and waited for Jasmine and her chocolate box to scurry into the passenger seat.
As soon as the electro motor shot her seat belt around her, she whipped out the box, slipped off the satin ribbon, and opened it. Inside were three dozen hand-made chocolates.
“Oh, my hips, look at these. We can eat them, can’t we?”
Xylvar flashed her a smile that was cheeky and young…and so unexpected she just stared as he shot out a hand, grabbed one, and popped it into his mouth. “Yep.”
While cars drove past, he leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes, and seemed to savor every nuance of taste. Not since she’d met him again had she seen him really smile, or take a moment to thoroughly enjoy something.
He opened his eyes, met her wide-eyed look, and sneaked another truffle, giving it a deep sniff of appreciation. “Be quick, or I’ll eat them all.”
She blinked at the tiny glimmer of the young man she’d once known, then grabbed a ball dusted with bitter cocoa. She bit into the thick texture. A rich chocolate and whiskey explosion hit her tongue.
She closed her eyes and moaned in unabashed delight. “Oh, fates. These are so good, and I could never afford them normally.”
“That box is worth more than my pension for a month. Lift the gold medallion.”
The medallion announced the shop’s brand, but underneath was a small, velvety-white square the size of a ring box. She opened the box and found several small tissue paper packets. “These aren’t all bugs?”
“There should be bugs of differing sizes and ranges, and a few dozen tracking devices. As for the listening devices, we’ll keep the bigger ones for other projects.”
She took a chocolate so dark it looked almost black. When she bit into the bitter shell, a sweet peppermint fondant oozed out. “How do they make these?” She wasn’t asking for an answer. She savored the treat while she unfolded a small square of tissue paper and found about twenty paper-thin brown dots the size and shape of tiny mouse droppings, with a peel-off gel back. “These are for the tables, I assume?”
“Yep.”
“Thought we’d be going bigger–for better range.”
“The range is limited, two-fifty to three hundred feet tops, but they will be easy to pop under each table while we walk past. If someone sees them, they’ll look like dead food, and a good wipe with a cleaning cloth will take them off, so nobody will know.”
“What if they have listening device locators like you do?”
“It’s a public restaurant. Nobody will think someone would bug it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Take another chocolate before you put the rest in the back. They can be dessert tonight.”
The box safely on the floor at the back, Xylvar eased the car into traffic. Jasmine pointed to the silver car which had parked farther up the road. “Half a block up, behind that black truck, do you see the silver car?”
Xylvar glanced at her.
“I think it’s waiting for us to drive by. It went past me at least four times while I waited for you to drive around. Could be our oddly friendly neighbors.”
Xylvar reached under his seat, pulled out a small pair of binoculars, and handed them to Jasmine. “What’s the license plate number?”
She read the number out.
“Different plate number.”
“Then why the drive-bys? Feels too coincidental to me.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not a slide-over— a fake plate made to slide over a real one.”
She resisted the urge to show him her middle finger. “I know what a slide-over is.” Condescending dick.
“We’ll see if they follow us. Without being obvious, I want you to see if you can make out the faces inside the vehicle.”
They drove past, and Jasmine casually flicked her hair back while slightly turning her head. “There’s a man inside, but between the dark tint and the fact his head is turned away, I can’t make him out.”
Xylvar nodded and kept driving. Once they passed the car, he hit the rear vid viewer so a screen lit up on the dash. “Watch.”
Jasmine watched the silver car pull out into traffic. “Six cars behind.”
“Bastards. We’re going on a loop around this suburb.” He merged to the far-left lane and took a smaller, more suburban road. Two blocks down, just as the car came into view Xylvar turned left again, hit a hard right, a quick left, and drove six blocks. At a large intersection, he pulled into a small strip of shops. A white fiberglass horse in full buck advertised a western wear shop. Next to the shop was an adult store, proclaiming to be have everything a couple needed for an unforgettable intimate experience.
They parked between two large trucks and idled for five minutes, but no silver vehicles came into view.
“I think we’re good, but I’ll take a longer route to the Loose Moose.”
#
The half full parking lot at the Loose Moose told them they’d missed the morning rush. Inside, the half empty room meant Xylvar scored the far table again.
He ordered two coffees, then opened his menu without a word to Jasmine. With plates of pancakes, bacon, egg, and maple syrup on their way, Xylvar discreetly attached a listening dot on the tip of each finger of one hand. “I’m going to the men’s room.” For the first time since they’d met again, Xylvar used the electric motor of his chair for propulsion. It worked on word commands and small physical shifts of his shoulders.
He passed tables, casually lifting his hand, dotting the tiny devices underneath. The man knew his surveillance skills. If she’d hadn’t been watching for it, she would never have noticed.
He disappeared into the hall leading to the bathrooms. Two men walked in, did what she considered a furtive assessment of the café patrons, chatted to the server, and selected a table facing the rest. Four men dressed in the heavy, hemp, striped shirts many laborers favored for their summer durability came in. The shirts, all new to the point of having matching factory iron creases,
appeared to be playing dress-up, or, in this case, dress down.
The short black goatee on one stood out starkly against his pale skin, but it was his close-cropped dark hair that gave Jasmine pause. Short hair hadn’t been fashionable since she played with dolls. Most men with a super-short cut were in some sort of armed forces. The bulk of the men in the café today and the other day wore their hair so it touched their shoulders, or at least long enough to cover their scalp and fall into softer lines.
She focused on the man with short hair as best she could without staring. He had an aura about him that said he could be dangerous. Damn. Calm down, you paranoid dolt. Being dangerous could be true of most men in the right setting, and an easy guess considering the man’s powerful physique. With her head tipped to the right she looked at the tip of her boot, and considered him closely. There was something else about him. Like she’d met him before, but even though she was usually good with faces, she couldn’t be sure.
Another couple walked in and sat at a far table. Jarin, one of Kaid’s soldiers from Katoom, and a tall, strongly built, attractive blond female. Jasmine recognized her from around the Katoom’s Eli land, but had yet to meet her. Several females were in Katoom Clan’s arsenal of soldiers.
A vehicle would be parked up the road with two Eli inside listening to every conversation that came through the listening devices. Xylvar emerged just then, wheeling his way back the way he’d gone, casually dotting five more tables. Jasmine took it as her cue, picked up her handbag, and, with dots on her fingertips walked outside, as if catching the sun, admiring the potted plants she tried to discreetly place five of her own dots on the outside tables. Once back inside, she walked to Xylvar, bent and gave him a kiss on the cheek, quickly replacing her dots, and headed for the ladies’, and then it was done. Just three tables short.
When Jasmine returned to the table she found Xylvar tapping his finger. A sign she’d decided meant he was in deep thought or trying to read someone. She sat and took his hand in hers to stop the noise and deflect the possibility of calling undue attention to them. It also, she assumed, looked loving, something a couple would do. What she didn’t expect was how natural it felt. She stared at their joined hands…his skin dark, hers more a honey gold…and scowled.
Flames of Hope Page 8
