The Vigilante's Lover #4 (Volume 4)

by Annie Winters

  “Cancel!” Jovana shouts. She turns to Mark in the driver’s seat. “Jesus Christ. Why did you let her have a command line?”

  The dash voice says, “Please clarify the command to cancel.”

  Mark stabs at the screen. “Restore cloak.” He looks at Jovana. “Car control is automatic when the system registers a Vigilante or a special.”

  “You shouldn’t have let her be scanned,” Jovana snaps.

  “If I had refused, it would have blown the cloak anyway.” Mark almost veers off the road as he punches the screen a second time. We’re approaching a major highway.

  “I don’t see why this is such a big deal,” Mark says. “Everyone knows we’re headed to Washington. Who cares if they track us?”

  “I don’t want them to track the special,” Jovana says.

  I know she’s lying. Sutherland has cut her off and probably doesn’t want her in Washington. She must not want this Mark guy to realize she’s been left out.

  And they still haven’t revoked my command privileges.

  “Remove all cloaking,” I say.

  “Cancel!” Jovana shouts again.

  But still, the car says, “Please clarify the command to cancel.”

  “It’s like you’ve never used a damn car,” Mark says angrily.

  “I don’t let insolent people ride with me,” Jovana shoots back.

  Mark slams his hand on the wheel. “I told you we had to kill her command line first. She’s just going to keep saying commands.”

  “Revoke Mia Morrow command,” Jovana says.

  “Revoking command,” the voice responds. “Reminder: revocation access of a special must be reported to headquarters.”

  “No no no,” Jovana says. “Do not transmit.”

  “Cancel revocation of command?” the car asks.

  She turns to look at me. “You are more trouble than you are worth.”

  “Good,” I say.

  Mark concentrates on the terrain as we bump from the dirt road onto the highway. My body jerks with the motion of the car, and I cringe, expecting a burn from the laser grid. But I feel nothing. It seems to know what movements are caused by the car and what is something I’ve done on my own.

  I think they’ve forgotten in their panic that I’ve removed all the cloaking. I suppress my smile.

  “Enough of this,” Jovana says. She turns back to the dash. “Kill prisoner.”

  “What?” Mark shouts. “No! Cancel command.”

  “Conflicting commands,” the voice says. “Control restricted to Vigilante 67309.”

  Jovana sits back in her seat, angry. “Well, at least only you can command the car now,” she says to Mark.

  I try to calm my panic. Each rise of my chest makes the lasers buzz me. Would it be that easy to kill me?

  “We are not incinerating a special in my car,” Mark says. His voice has lost all trace of friendliness. “Now you’re starting to be more trouble than YOU’RE worth.”

  Jovana switches tactics, rubbing Mark on his forearm below the rolled-up sleeve. “This is a bad situation,” she says. “I’m glad you’re here to manage it.”

  Surely this Mark guy isn’t going to fall for that number. But I can see his shoulders relax. Whatever she’s doing, it’s working. I start wondering about mood-enhanced speech. What it entails. How it works.

  Something seems off about Jovana’s hand. Her skin isn’t quite right. Does she have one of those fake skins on? Like Klaus used when he poisoned Jax? Is she giving Mark some drug to calm him, make him compliant?

  “I’m glad you called me,” Mark says.

  Gotta be drugged. Nobody calms down that fast.

  The dash lights up with a transmission.

  “What the hell?” Jovana says. “I thought we were cloaked.” She lets go of Mark’s arm to stab at the screen.

  Mark’s recovery is instant. “No, princess in the back here had the last accepted command.” Mark looks down at the message. “I’m going to have to take this call before we go off grid again.”

  “No!” Jovana says. “I don’t want them to know where I am.”

  “Then you better jump out of the car,” Mark says, “because I’m not putting my ass on the line for you right now.” He punches the screen.

  The face that I see on the screen makes my pulse jump. It’s Colette! Her information scrolls below, but I can’t take my eyes off her face. I can’t believe it’s her!

  “I see you’ve got some interesting cargo,” she says. “How about you let me take one of them off your hands?”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Jovana says. “She’s in league with Jax.”

  “Jax is dead,” Mark says. “Isn’t that right?”

  Colette’s face gets serious. “Yes. He was dispatched this morning. It’s all been very unfortunate.” She looks over at Jovana. “Trust me, I have no desire to take you. It’s the special I want.”

  “You can have her,” Mark says.

  Jovana smacks at the screen and ends the call. “Initiate all cloaking levels,” she says.

  “Voice command not authorized,” the car responds.

  Mark laughs. “You better talk nicer to me,” he says.

  “Cloak it,” Jovana growls.

  “Okay, okay,” Mark says. “Initiate all cloaking levels.”

  The car responds. Still, my heart is in my throat. Colette knows where I am!

  “So who is this Colette person anyway?” Mark asks.

  I want to jump in and say that she is Jax’s friend, but I keep silent. If Colette says Jax is dead, doesn’t that mean it’s true?

  But then, why would she want me?

  Except to take me back to Jax.

  “Just some Vigilante who took an interest in our prisoner a ways back,” Jovana says.

  “What’s so interesting about this girl you’ve nabbed?”

  Jovana shrugs, her hand gripping Mark’s arm again. “I was just instructed to bring her with me to Washington and to keep it quiet.”

  Really? This is the first I’ve heard of this, although I’ve been drugged for most of the day with Jovana. Maybe Sutherland talked to her, and I don’t know it.

  Mark commands the car to go super speed to arrive in D.C. in time for the Vigilante committee hearing.

  Mark and Jovana start talking normally again, the argument between them seeming to dissipate. She really must be doing something to manipulate him. Maybe she did it to Klaus too.

  And Jax too, back in their day. I doubt it’s her sparkling personality that reels them in.

  “Show me the footage of the execution,” Jovana purrs. Her hand continues to stroke his arm.

  Mark pulls up a video. I’m torn between watching it and staring out the window, unable to cope with the visual of Jax’s death.

  But I’m a Vigilante now, and I don’t believe Colette would have randomly discovered me in Mark’s car. She was watching for me. Maybe Sam has been scanning the network for any trace of my identity.

  And they wouldn’t do that unless Jax asked them to.

  The screen shows the inside of a white room. Carter, the guy I met at the Missouri silo, stands next to Jax.

  “It’s time to go off grid for good,” Carter says and clicks an invisible button on the table. A panel slides open, and he lifts a silver case from a hidden compartment.

  “You going to fight or can I do this with just us?” he asks.

  “I don’t need an audience,” Jax says.

  My heart hurts. He’s just standing there, preparing for the end.

  Carter pulls out a syringe, and Jovana cheers when he holds it up to the camera to show it is a yellow snuff dart.

  “I’d ask for last words, but I don’t really give a shit,” Carter says.

  “Do what you’ve got to do,” Jax answers.

  I watch Jax’s eyes. I’m overcome with emotion. I love this man. He’s perfectly calm in the face of his own death. I don’t think I could ever be nearly so composed and strong.

  Carter pricks Jax
’s arm.

  I’m glued to Jax’s handsome, perfect face. It’s bruised. They must have beaten him after they took him from the hotel. Jax told me they’d take his body to a crematorium. There would be no trace of him left. I’d never see his face again.

  But then, I see something that gives me pause. A quick change of expression before the needle is fully in.

  Jax crumples his face as the poison hits him. It’s not a natural look, at least not to me. It feels scripted.

  Then there is a small genuine look of surprise.

  “Ha!” Jovana says. “He didn’t think they’d really do it!”

  Jax falls to his knees, then crashes face-first into the floor. It’s all I can do not to cry out, but even the single heave of my chest causes the lasers to singe me again. Maybe I should just flail, fight, let it burn me up.

  “Rewind it,” Jovana says with a laugh. “I want to see him go down again.”

  They go back to when Carter injects the drug into Jax. And I see it again, this strange face crumple.

  I’ve seen Jax poisoned. I’ve witnessed how he reacts. It wasn’t a snuff dart then, but I suspect this expression he is doing isn’t real. He’s done it deliberately.

  Like he’s faking it.

  And suddenly, I know. I know it with the certainty of someone who loves the way I love Jax. If he were truly dead, I would have felt him go.

  And despite the fact I’ve seen him fall to the ground, I know it.

  He’s not dead.

  He’s not.

  9: Jax

  Sam nudges me. He’s ended his call. Paulson drives at full speed, flashing by traffic on an interstate now, trying to make good time to D.C.

  “What’s got you all wrapped up?” Sam asks. “The woman?”

  I grunt. “I was just remembering that slave trade bust where I met Jovana.”

  “She should not have made it out alive from that,” he says. “You guys blew up the whole club in the end. Your Phase Threes got the women out of the bunkers, but Jovana wasn’t with them.”

  “Obviously, she was a trained operative from the start,” I say.

  “Obviously, she was only there to meet you.”

  We’re drawing the same conclusion. In the year I sat in prison, I reviewed all that I knew about her. She hadn’t behaved like I would have expected a slave to during that first meeting. And she hadn’t been rescued by any of my people in the ensuing chaos.

  But she turned up again, not two days later.

  “I guess I was supposed to carry her out of there with a background of fire,” I say bitterly. “But she found me anyway. Her plan resumed.”

  “So you think Sutherland hired her early on?” Sam asks.

  “No doubt. I just don’t know why I was a target.” I watch the landscape whiz by. We are probably only an hour outside D.C. at this point.

  “We can ask Sutherland when we see him,” Sam says. “That will be a friendly chat.”

  “Who called on your Blackphone?” I ask. “You have more people assembled?”

  “Colette,” he says. “She found Mia.”

  My voice explodes in the car. “What? Where is she?”

  Sam frowns. “Colette’s handling it.”

  “No,” I insist, bringing my tone down. “I will handle it. Where is she?”

  “Headed toward D.C., same as us.”

  “Who is she with?”

  Sam fiddles with his phone.

  “Sam. Who is she with?”

  “The mission is more important than the girl right now,” Sam says.

  “I decide that. Not you.”

  Sam sighs. “You’re always going off half-cocked.”

  “Bullshit. I’m never half-cocked.”

  He shakes his head. “We’ll find her in D.C.”

  “That’s not good enough for me.” I want her now. I need to see her now. I don’t think I even care about the mission anymore. Mia was right back in Nashville. This isn’t worth it.

  She is what’s worth it.

  “You’re going to have to wait, bro,” Paulson says from the front seat. “Put your dick away.”

  I’ve had enough of this asshole. In less than a second, I’ve whipped off my T-shirt and wrapped it around his neck. “Do not go around disrespecting the ladies,” I hiss in his ear.

  “Engage auto-drive,” Sam barks at the car, which has already veered into a new lane.

  Paulson clutches at the shirt. I know if he has any training at all, he can tear it away. That wasn’t my point. Now that the car has to calculate with traffic, it slows down to a speed that is barely over the legal limit.

  “We need to get back on track to get to D.C.,” Sam says. “Let the asshole go.”

  I have no intention of doing that. I want control of this car, or out of it. I need to find out who has Mia and extricate her before any more harm can come to her.

  A green sign for the Potomac River whips by. I can see the stretch of blue ahead. We’re about to cross it via a bridge on the interstate.

  And I make my choice.

  Before anyone can notice my actions, I tie the shirt around the headrest, snatch the Blackphone from Sam, and open the car door.

  Paulson tries futilely to lock the car down, but I’m on the roof before he can untangle himself from my shirt. I stand, feeling the wind whip around me. If he goes into high speed with me up here, I’m a goner. But the river approaches fast, and without a second thought, I leap from the roof of the car as we go over the bridge.

  I can only hope there’s enough water in the river to handle this dive.

  10: Mia

  If Jax is alive, then where is he?

  Mark and Jovana seem giddy now after watching the video of Jax’s execution. But I can only stare out the window in a bit of a daze. We’re driving incredibly fast now, using that Vigilante super speed, and normal civilian cars get left behind as though they are parked on the highway rather than driving alongside.

  “So how are you guys going to fake MY death?” Mark asks.

  Jovana stops laughing. “Shut up around her.”

  “Come on, you said that by this time tomorrow, it won’t matter,” Mark says. “Can I get blown into space? I want something fantastic.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Jovana says. “It has to be easy to place in the record.”

  That explains Klaus, I think. His faked death.

  I’m so ready to be out of this car. A dozen muscles are killing me from trying to stay still.

  “We should take some side roads,” Jovana says. “Probably that do-gooder will be tracking our potential routes by now.”

  “All right,” Mark says. He taps the map on his dash screen. “We’ll do a little zigzag.”

  We exit the interstate and head along the frontage road a while. Then the car makes a dramatic turn onto a small two-lane highway.

  “How much time will we lose?” Jovana asks.

  Mark fiddles with the screen. “An hour.”

  Jovana rests her head on the back of her seat. “That’s fine. We’ll still get there in time.”

  For what? I wonder. And what do they need me for?

  I want to ask, but don’t bother. They seem to have forgotten about me for the moment.

  A car appears at the crest of the hill ahead, coming at us with incredible speed.

  “That’s not civilian,” Mark says. A red alert goes off on his dash.

  “Shit, I bet it’s that girl again,” Jovana says. “Can you lose her?”

  “Maybe,” Mark says. He guns the car.

  Colette’s image and information come on the dash, filling it this time since she’s not on the screen herself.

  Colette Rigal

  Phase Six Driver

  Last Known Location: Missouri Silo

  Immediate Commander: Alan Carter

  Too bad the car won’t listen to my commands anymore. I’d make it stop.

  Colette blows past us. I turn to see where she goes, but the laser grid zaps me in twenty places. “Ou
ch!” I shout.

  Jovana laughs. “You don’t learn very fast, do you?”

  “Is the car coming around?” Mark asks. His eyes are on the rearview mirror.

  Jovana swivels in her seat. “Yes. She’s turning.”

  “Damn. She’s a Phase Six,” Mark says. “She can outmaneuver me in a heartbeat.”

  I’ll say. I remember how she was able to cut me off when I was walking. She can turn that car on a dime.

  Trees and driveways whip by us as we fly along the narrow highway. It’s rural here, plantation country, but there are vehicles on the road. Mark’s car deftly swerves around a tractor and two pickup trucks.

  “Did we lose her?” Jovana asks, peering out the back window.

  “Hardly,” Mark says. “She’s gaining.”

  We whip around two more cars. One of them blares a horn at our speed.

  “Cloaking isn’t very effective out here,” Jovana says.

  “It’s afternoon. Visual cloak doesn’t work well in full sun.” Mark’s voice is full of concern. “If she hails us, we have to stop.”

  I want to ask what he means, but then the dash screen fills with big red words: VIGILANTE HAIL PROTOCOL.

  “Don’t respond,” Jovana says quickly. “I’ll take the heat.”

  Mark glances over at her. “That’s a downgradable offense in the network. I just made Phase Five last month.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Jovana says. “I’ll talk to Sutherland.”

  I decide it’s time to play my trump card. “You sure about that? Because from what I’ve seen in the past twenty-four hours of knowing you, he isn’t returning your calls.”

  The screen flashes again. RESPOND TO HAIL.

  Jovana reaches forward and hits something. “I’ll do it.”

  But the dash doesn’t change.

  “Car won’t listen to your voice or respond to your fingerprint,” Mark says. He catches my eye in the rearview mirror.

  Time to practice my lying techniques by mixing a little false stuff with the truth.

  “Jovana called Sutherland last night from a parking lot in Nashville,” I tell Mark. “He wouldn’t answer.” I shift my eyes to her. “You also weren’t the first person she called to try to bail her out. The others knew better.”