Jensen chuckled. “You have a type? One that doesn’t run on batteries?”
Isis scowled. “You’re an asshole, you realize that right?”
“From what I’ve heard you’re a hardcore cynic bordering on being misanthropic,” Jensen continued. “You don’t play well with others, hence my insinuation.”
“Oh right, I forgot. You and my uncles have been stalking me since I was born,” Isis said.
“You do love to exaggerate, don’t you? Believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Ajax checked in with Steve every now and again. He wanted to make sure the poor man didn’t have a nervous breakdown.”
Isis shot a cold glare in Jensen’s direction. “Since you know my story, I’m curious about what yours is.”
“I’m a man of mystery, no story, no past,” Jensen replied, some amusement fading from his voice. Isis shook her head and looked back out the window.
“The last Aldridge? Oh no, there is definitely a story there,” she responded. Jensen glanced at her before turning his bright blue eyes back to the road. The traffic had picked up.
“So you talked to Jade?” he asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.
“There’s quite a section on your family in the library at the mansion. Tell me, how did you survive that massacre? Did you just annoy the assassins to death?”
Jensen turned to glare at her, his jaw clenching. Isis turned her eyes from the window, waiting for whatever snarky remark or insinuation Jensen would throw at her in response. Instead, he just looked back out the windshield, his expression becoming disturbingly blank. Shit, I might have crossed a line, Isis realized, feeling a faint hint of guilt. Turning her eyes back to the windshield, she noticed they were approaching an ugly little green Volkswagen. Isis frowned when she noticed the car wasn’t slowing down and glanced over to Jensen, noticing that he still seemed to be lost in thought.
“Jensen? Jensen! Fuck!”
Jensen blinked, shook his head, and swore loudly as he slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a rear-end collision.
Isis had pressed herself against her seat, bracing her body for the impact. She clutched the door handle and the seat, her wide green eyes turned to Jensen. She immediately regretted bringing up his past. It had been a low blow, even for her. His face was still blank, free of any readable emotions as he kept his eyes straight ahead. She swallowed and attempted to relax her stature. A few minutes passed in complete silence.
“I’m sorry,” Isis apologized. Jensen made a noncommittal noise in response. Isis ran a hand over her face, wishing she had just ignored him.
“Goddamn weather,” Jensen grumbled. Isis grinned a little at the memory of saying those exact same words to Steve whenever winter rolled around.
“Not a fan of snow?” she asked.
“No,” Jensen answered shortly. “And the cheesy decorations don’t help matters either. Damn humans and their damn holidays.”
Isis couldn’t help but laugh at his bitterness. It was funny, and a bit refreshing, to hear those words come out of someone else’s mouth. Jensen glanced over at her, frowning.
“What’s so amusing?”
Isis waved him off. “I’ve said something along those lines to Shae and Steve every single winter since I can remember. I hate the holidays almost as much as I hate the cold.”
“Ah, must be a trait you inherited from your mother,” Jensen seemed to think aloud. “You know passion, heat?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Isis said, still smiling.
“I cannot believe you walked in this.”
Isis shrugged. “I’ve walked longer.”
“In the cold?”
“Yes,” Isis replied with a grin.
Jensen smiled and shook his head, pausing at a stop sign. “Do you realize how much trouble you’re going to be in when the Monroes find out you went out wandering without telling anyone?”
Isis returned her gaze to the snow outside. She knew she had to tell Jet and Lilly what had happened, but she was dreading it.
Jensen glanced over at her, surprised by her silence. “I know it’s horribly cliché, but it is for your own good. Plus, I owe the Monroes a lot. My life, actually.”
Isis watched the landscape as they got closer to the mansion. She wondered if Jet would make her wear an ankle monitor from now on.
Jensen was quiet for a while, glancing at his passenger. “Tell you what, you swear that you won’t sneak out again and this trip can be our little secret.”
Isis turned to look at Jensen. “You’d do that for me?”
He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road as he turned onto the secret path that led up to the mansion’s gate. “Sure, why not?”
“I don’t get it,” Isis said. “What do you want?”
“Ajax wants me to keep an eye on you. I want to get some sleep. I do owe you a favor for helping me in the Lair, so if you promise me you won’t go sneaking out again, then we’ll be even,” Jensen replied. Isis arched an eyebrow. Jensen’s deal was too simple.
“Fine, I promise not to go sneaking out again,” she said as honestly as she could manage.
“Good,” Jensen replied as he pulled up to the mansion’s gate. He placed his hand on the scanner and drove down the winding driveway once the large gate swung open.
*~*~*~*~*
In her small townhouse, Halley Waterson sat rigidly at her kitchen table, a small mug of coffee clutched tightly in her bony hands. The morning light illuminated her small home, harshly brightening the natural colors of the walls and floor. Halley was in a simple pastel rose-colored bathrobe with matching slippers. Her soft brown hair was tied up in a lose bun; strands fell out and framed her face. Some gray streaks peppered her otherwise light brown hair, an odd occurrence for a shape shifter.
At the other side of the small table, a petite woman sat. She looked young, especially compared to Halley, but she was ancient. A sharp smile was plastered on her lips as she watched the woman across from her. Behind her, Halley could hear the tall man the woman came with moving about in the room behind them. He had a handsome face, chiseled features, and dark eyes. He wore a designer brown suit, one that probably cost more than Halley’s entire modest wardrobe. His short brown hair was curly and well managed. He was imposing; an aura of hidden power seemed to radiate from him. But he wasn’t the one who scared Halley.
The woman he came with looked like an ordinary young woman. Youthful and slender, her short blonde hair barely touched the nape of her neck. The front of her hair swept to the right. Her manicured nails were a pearly rose color and she drummed them on the table every now and again. She wore tight, dark blue jeans and a simple light pink blouse. A wicked-looking handgun, complete with silencer, sat on the table in front of her, probably a gift from her masters. This woman existed for one purpose and one purpose only: to protect the Corporation, no matter what the cost.
Halley almost dropped her mug when the phone rang suddenly. The beautiful blonde woman in front of her only smiled wider as she got up and moved to the message machine that rested on the kitchen counter. Please don’t call me, Halley begged whatever guardian might have been listening. The woman effortlessly hopped up on the counter, sitting beside the small machine with the bright red light. Halley’s daughter often made fun of her for being the only person left with an actual answering machine. The thought of her daughter made Halley even more afraid, knowing these people wouldn’t hesitate to use her to get what they wanted. The Corporation was ruthless when they wanted something.
“Halley, this is Isis. You didn’t show up, which has me a little worried. Please call me on my cell when you get a chance.”
Halley closed her eyes when the phone beeped as Isis hung up. The blonde woman put a finger to her lips as she turned back to Halley, a thoughtful look on her face. She was toying with her prey; a cat with a helpless mouse.
“Hmm,” she began as she approached Halley, her designer shoes clicking sharply on the tile. “Who was that, love?”
Halley glared up a
t the woman defiantly. “Goddamn you, Tracy.”
“Sounded a lot like the guardian hybrid. I met her once, you know. Intrepid little thing, a bit cold, but can’t hold that against her.”
Tracy put a hand on the woman’s chair, resting her other one on the table as her dark eyes bore into the woman’s frightened blue eyes. “I know you weren’t planning on speaking to her about your late husband’s former employers. Especially after how generous they were to you, not to mention Cara. She recently had a child, didn’t she?”
Tracy straightened up again and moved over to one of the windows, leaning her weight against it. Halley kept her eyes forward, unwilling to show them how scared she was.
“Mr. Carding is very concerned that you might be tempted to tell the protectors what you know,” Tracy continued on. “I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen. Mr. Brown, if you would be so kind.”
Before she could react, Halley felt Mr. Brown grab her arms with one of his strong hands and force her head back with his other arm.
“Tracy, please, I won’t tell her anything. Why would I?” Halley pleaded with the blonde woman. Tracy pulled out a medium sized switchblade. She had the blade out with one deft flick of her wrist, examining it for a moment. She turned her eyes back to Halley.
“Oh, I wish I could believe you, love. I really do. Your family has been so good to the Corporation. But this little slip has to be punished,” Tracy cooed as she straddled Halley, twirling the knife in her dexterous fingers. “We’re not cruel. We simply wish to make this world — our world, a better place. To show his thanks for your loyalty to Grenich, I have been authorized to give you a choice. I can take either your tongue or Cara’s. This hurts us much more than it will you, but unfortunately, it is unavoidable. Know that I take no pleasure in executing this punishment. You would be wise to keep this in mind: the next time something like this happens, the Corporation will not be so generous.”
*~*~*~*~*
Half an hour later, Caleb Brown sat in his dark blue sports car, waiting for Tracy to finish up with Ms. Waterson. The blonde soon strode out of the house and across the small porch. She jogged down the stairs, her clothing completely clean. Caleb had been alive for centuries, but Tracy’s effortless skill never ceased to amaze him. She was a marvel and it was no wonder she was so high up in the ranks. She was ancient, older than most of the guardians, and yet her existence was not known to the shape shifters or guardians. The only ones who knew of her, other than the higher ups, were deep in the Corporation — usually the ones who didn’t have much longer to live. She was the Corporation’s angel of death, as lovely as she was deadly.
Tracy opened the passenger door and slid her petite body in. She smiled at Caleb as she closed the door and buckled her seatbelt. Producing a balled up white handkerchief from an inner pocket, Tracy laid it on the dashboard.
“Bleeding’s stopped,” she said as she crossed her ankles in front of her, ever the modest lady when in the presence of an employee. “She’ll be fine, but she won’t be speaking to anyone for a long while. I doubt she’ll speak to anyone ever again.”
“You sure about that?”
“No, not entirely, but Halley’s predictable. She’ll kill herself before she endangers her daughter. She knows I’m a woman of my word.”
“Have we located the escaped experiment yet?” Caleb asked. “The L-series who has been such a nuisance lately?”
“He’s not our concern. I’ll take care of him if he tries to interfere, which I very much doubt he will. Our products are many things, but they are definitely not stupid,” Tracy responded casually, glancing behind her. “Can we hurry, please? I’ve got a date tonight and I can still smell some faint traces of blood on me. Better safe than sorry.”
“Ah yes, Steve,” Caleb said with an amused chuckle as he started the car. “How is that little love affair going?”
“He’s a valuable asset. I can get to her through him, I just haven’t figured out how I’m going to do that yet. Her aloofness is proving to be a challenge,” Tracy responded as she ran a hand through her short blonde hair. She didn’t feel sentimentality. She used it against the people she hunted. It was a powerful motivator.
“Onyx and Blackjack are getting restless. Wouldn’t want a repeat of the incident at the Lair,” Caleb commented. Tracy grimaced in disgust and Caleb snickered. He knew how much she disliked the two assassins who “owned” the territory.
“Please don’t remind me of those damn fools. I don’t understand why he insists on using assassins as city guides. They just get in the way and wind up making a huge mess, which I inevitably have to clean up,” Tracy grumbled.
“I thought you didn’t question the higher ups.”
“I don’t. I want to finish this job so we can win the war and He can reclaim what’s His. The last thing we need are more loose ends,” Tracy replied.
“The protectors bought right into the red herring,” Caleb said as he pulled onto the street. “It was almost too easy.”
“Yes, almost,” Tracy murmured. “Let’s make sure they stay in the dark on this one, all right?”
“I’ll alert the others,” Caleb replied as he made a right turn. He knew how displeased his bosses would be if someone were to throw a wrench into their carefully laid plans.
“I’ll get in touch with the assassins, see when they want to take care of her. I should contact you soon, so be ready to move fast,” Tracy said as she stretched her arms above her head. Caleb couldn’t help but sneak a peek at her toned body.
“Just this last one and we’ll have all the possible Keys,” he mentioned. “Think this hunt is over?”
Tracy smiled. “Almost.”
*~*~*~*~*
Roan sat in his cell, quiet as always. The lights rarely dimmed except at night, which was proving to be an annoyance. His eyes were glued on the wall outside his cell, but his gaze was distant. He was in a trance, searching for something not in his cell. After being immersed in the world of assassins for so long, Roan had an almost uncanny ability to see into the hidden corners of the world. It was a skill he honed while recovering from his wounds after his fight with Draco, when he had disappeared and was thought dead. He knew he would need this skill if he were to be any use to his rescuer … or to Passion. And our daughters, he thought. Roan had never thought he would be a parent. Children never really appealed to him. Then he had met Passion and suddenly, the thought of settling down wasn’t such a horrible idea.
He had rescued Isis a few times in the past months and had been amazed at her tenacity. She had so much potential, so much strength. She was probably going to be an incredible protector, one who would go down in history. If the Corporation doesn’t get her, he thought darkly. Roan was beginning to lose his patience waiting for the High Council to grant Jet and Lilly permission to see him. The bureaucracy in the Meadows was downright infuriating. They didn’t have time for this rigmarole. Their enemy was gathering more power, amassing more weapons, and extending his reach every single day. They were wasting time they didn’t have.
Roan came out of his trance and got to his feet, pacing around the cell for a few moments. He ran his long hands over his face, wishing he had some mundane task to occupy him. Or a cigarette, he thought wistfully. Quitting cold turkey hadn’t been horrible, Roan had done it before, but there were times he missed it. His well-honed ability wasn’t helping him now and it was frustrating. The protectors were up against something they had never faced before and the High Council was still taking forever to get anything done. And he was trapped in a cell, unable to do anything other than watch and wait to see what would happen.
CHAPTER NINE
“You’re leaving your middle open again.”
Isis glanced over to where Jensen sat on a folding chair near where she was practicing on a punching bag. He was eating a Gala apple — which she was sure was another one of his tactics to get under her skin — and grinning at her between bites. A few weeks had passed since the two had met. Jens
en followed Isis almost everywhere, staying true to his word that he would keep her from sneaking off. Isis seemed to finally understand his sense of humor and didn’t complain about him as much anymore. If anything, she actually teased him back.
“Don’t look at my middle,” she said. Jensen let out a long-suffering sigh and tossed the apple core into a nearby plastic garbage container. He was dressed in his usual nice clothing, looking ever the dapper gentleman. Jensen grabbed the towel he had brought down with him and scrubbed what little stickiness remained on his fingers.
“Shae, will you please watch your cousin so you can tell her she’s leaving her midsection open?” Jensen called over to where Shae was sparring with Alex.
“Isis, listen to Jensen,” Shae called back, smiling. She lunged to the side when Alex aimed a roundhouse kick at her stomach.
“Too slow,” Shae taunted. Alex smirked before dropping into a perfect spin kick, successfully knocking Shae off balance.
Isis gritted her teeth when Jensen sighed loudly again. Critiquing her techniques was his new favorite pastime. Even though I saved his sorry ass, he still thinks he’s a more capable fighter, Isis thought, shaking a damp strand of hair out of her eyes. She often practiced sparring with him and found him to be a skilled partner. It irked her to no end how he seemed to be perfect at everything. Everyone in my life is a freaking know-it-all, she thought as she turned toward Jensen.
“What now?” Isis snapped at him. Jensen smiled, getting up and taking off his jacket. He carefully laid it over the back of the chair.
“I just want to ensure you don’t get hurt out there. It’s a dangerous world,” he said as he approached her. “En garde, Isis.”
Before Isis had a chance to respond, Jensen lunged at her. She stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding getting tackled. He went into a perfect diving roll and then back kicked, knocking her to her knees. Isis turned her neck slightly and kicked out, aiming for his groin but only succeeded in striking his upper thigh. It was enough to knock him back a couple steps, allowing her time to get to her feet and prepare for his next attack. Jensen circled her and she mirrored his movements. He nodded, impressed by her quick reaction time.
Through Storm and Night (The Shape Shifter Chronicles Book 2) Page 16
