The Vigilante's Lover #4 (Volume 4)

by Annie Winters

  Mark turns to Jovana. “Tell me she’s lying.”

  She clasps his arm. “She’s lying. I talked to Sutherland last night. You can pull the records easily. And who was Sutherland’s original recruit? Me. Who got this whole plan started by taking Jax out of the picture?”

  Mark relaxes. “All right.”

  “She’s drugging you, can’t you see that?” I ask. “I’m not even a Vigilante and I can tell she’s using a prosthetic skin with a drug.”

  He looks down. Jovana withdraws her hand.

  Time to finish this up. “You probably want to offload me as soon as you can,” I say. “She kidnapped me because she was too desperate and out of choices to deal with any legitimate Vigilantes in the network.”

  “SHUT UP!” Jovana yells. She almost flings her arm at me, but then remembers the laser grid and jerks her hand back before it crosses the lines.

  Mark punches the dash. “Accept hail,” he says.

  Jovana lets out a rush of air. “Don’t make me cut you out of the deal,” she says.

  But she’s too late. The dash reads “Vigilante 07398 requests to commandeer your vehicle. This operative is your superior. Failure to comply will be instantly reported to your silo.”

  “Don’t do it,” Jovana growls.

  But Mark says, “Accept.”

  We slow down and roll to a stop on the side of the road. Just ahead is a sign for a farm, the rusting metal pipes forming a rectangular arch over the slats of a cattle guard.

  “System under control of Vigilante 07398,” the car announces. “Security deactivated.”

  The laser grids blink, then disappear.

  “Great,” Jovana says. “Just great.”

  I let out a long breath. I push aside a piece of hair that fell over my eye hours ago that I’d been unable to move. I rub at the small of my back, where my tension has formed a knot.

  The light on the buckle by my hip blinks out. I press the release button and the lock unsnaps. I sit forward on the seat, stretching. It feels amazing.

  I turn around to see if Colette is behind us. She’s driving the same silver BMW that I rode in when Jax made me go with her after escaping the Missouri silo. My heart warms with the memory, even though I was mad at the time. He can’t be dead. I won’t believe it. Colette will know for sure. She’ll tell me.

  But suddenly I don’t want to know. I want to hold on to the hope that he is fine. That what I saw in the video was right, that he was doing it for show. I whip back around, wanting to just keep going, driving forever so I don’t have to face facts if he is dead after all.

  Jax went down so hard. Is he that good? Could he fake that?

  Fear curdles in my belly. Mark and Jovana sit silently up front. She’s stewing, arms crossed in front of her body.

  “Here she comes,” Mark says.

  I turn again. Colette closes the door to her car with her hip, a dart gun held out front with both hands. Her dark pixie hair blows around her face. She looks like something from the Roaring Twenties with her pert nose and lined eyes, her body encased in a fashionable low-waisted dress in white and navy.

  She makes Vigilantism look good. I am happy to see her, despite my worries about Jax.

  “I’ll handle this,” Jovana says. She fiddles with something on her wrist. I spot the edge of where the prosthetic skin must begin.

  “You changing your drug to a poison?” I ask her.

  Mark glances down, eyes wide. He grabs at her arm. “You WERE drugging me!”

  “It was for your own good,” Jovana snaps. “You need to complete this mission well if you want to get anywhere in the new network.”

  Colette approaches the windows. I know she can’t see us, as Vigilante cars have fake windows that make it appear you can see the interior but you can’t. She takes one hand off the dart gun and opens the back door.

  Sunlight blasts in. Colette takes a step back, the gun out, until she sees me. “Come on, Mia. You’re leaving with me.”

  I grab my backpack and start to slide across the seat, but Jovana decides to make a break for it, opening her door and dashing around the car.

  “Colette!” I shout. “Watch out!”

  11: Jax

  The frigid water bites into my skin. I feel like I’m breaking through ice, even though the temperature is well above freezing.

  Despite the recent rains, the river isn’t terribly deep, and I almost scrape the bottom with my chest and belly before moving upward toward the light.

  I’m actually grateful for the cold as my body slows down, as all the cuts and contusions from Paulson blast like fire as I sluice through the water.

  The splatter when I break through the surface is like a million brilliant gems. The fact that I am alive and able to swim through the river weeds and debris blows away any pain.

  I’m going to get to Mia.

  I clutch the Blackphone in my hand, glad Sam thinks of everything and the electronics are protected. I pause in the reeds beneath the bridge, watching for any sign that someone is coming. Paulson will want to pull off and look for me. Sam, if he’s any sort of friend at all, will recognize I’m not interested in their plan and will put him off.

  My feet bump against the river bottom and I drag myself out of the water. I’m wearing nothing but pajama bottoms and shoes. The only solution for the cold and my lack of protection is to keep moving.

  I jerk the Vigilante watch from my wrist. I am about to chuck it back in the river so they can’t track me, but then I pause. It’s another way to communicate if I need to. I decide not to burn the bridge I jumped from, and instead of tossing the watch, I fasten it to a tree where I can find it again later if I need it.

  I take off in a fast run, away from the interstate and through the dense trees. Everything in the immediate vicinity is woods, lining the shores of the Potomac.

  I spot a telephone pole and run beneath the wires where the ground is easier to manage. I know I’ll get to some sort of landmark soon enough where I can contact Colette. It should be the last call on this Blackphone, although I know how to reach her from memory.

  The wind blasts my face, and I begin to relax into the run as my muscles warm up. I feel better than I have in a long time despite the fact that I’m half-naked, running in dress shoes, and have nothing on me but a secret phone.

  I’m getting closer to Mia.

  I’m going to walk away from all this. Sutherland. Jovana. The network. I don’t need it. I don’t want it.

  I want her.

  We can figure out what sort of life we want to have. We can do anything. Live on a boat. Or maybe not, with her parents’ history.

  Get a place in Paris. Or the Swiss Alps. Venice. Or just travel.

  As long as I’m with her.

  I approach a highway. I cut alongside it, staying in the trees. When I feel I’ve put enough distance between myself and the bridge, I stop running and let my breath slow down. Time to contact Colette.

  I run the phone through several encryption channels and dial her number.

  It immediately cuts out, no answer.

  I frown. Where is she?

  I take off in another jog, worry nipping at my heels. Sam said she had located Mia. I wonder if someone has come after them. I don’t know who had Mia to begin with, how she was found. Anything that happened to her after I left the hotel is completely unknown. Those Vigilantes assured me she’d be safe, but if Colette had to track her down, that means she needed tracking down.

  Where the hell has she been all day?

  And where are they now?

  I run faster.

  12: Mia

  Jovana doesn’t come around the back of the car like I expect, but flips her way to the roof and back down, landing right on Colette.

  Shit, she’s good.

  “Watch her arm, Colette!” I say. “Don’t let her grab you with that poison skin!”

  The two of them scrabble on the ground. I drop my bag and circle them, kicking Jovana when I can get a shot in a
nd making sure she doesn’t wrap her hand around Colette. I don’t want to jump into the fray since Colette is trained and I might get in the way.

  Mark gets out of the car with a dart gun and before any of us can do anything, he shoots both Jovana and Colette.

  “What the hell?” I say, lunging for him.

  “Back off,” Mark says. “I don’t know what is going on here, but I’m not going down for it.”

  “Jovana kidnapped me,” I say quickly. “I don’t know why. She couldn’t get Sutherland to listen to her, and Klaus isn’t answering calls.”

  “Why is this Vigilante Colette so intent on getting you?”

  “She’s a friend of Jax. He’ll want me.”

  “But he’s dead.”

  I don’t say anything, and he curses under his breath. “Sutherland’s not as solid in his plan as he would let us believe,” he says.

  “What is his plan?” I ask, mentally trying to keep track of the minutes. Jovana and Colette will need an antidote if Mark used a Vigilante poison. Neither of them are unconscious, but clearly struggling with whatever he gave them, breathing heavily on the ground.

  “Hell if I know,” Mark mutters.

  “Are you going to give them antidotes?” I ask, my voice shaking.

  He turns and kicks at his car. “This is fucked up.”

  “What did you hit them with?”

  Jovana starts convulsing, her stomach heaving like she’s going to throw up.

  “The gastrointestinal one. It’s a torture drug.” He frowns.

  “Well, get the antidote!” I say.

  Colette starts to writhe on the ground as well. But still, Mark doesn’t move.

  I stride over to him and punch him in the belly. “Do it now,” I say.

  He doesn’t even flinch from the blow, but it does take him out of whatever pissed-off daze he’s in. He walks to the trunk and opens the lid.

  “If you’re so keen on waking them up to fight again, you do it,” he says. He tosses me a red vial.

  “I need two,” I say, but then turn away. I’ll dose Colette. He can worry about Jovana.

  I yank the protective cover off the needle and stab Colette in the arm. The lovely navy and white dress is dusty and torn. Her short bob covers her face.

  I drain the antidote into her and kneel down, the asphalt biting into my knees through my jeans.

  Every day since I met Jax has been nothing but the most insane collection of events.

  Colette shudders, her hand moving to her belly. Her eyes flutter open. “Putain, ça douille.” Her face is contorted.

  “You okay?” I ask. I brush her hair back.

  “I think I’d rather be dead,” she says.

  Next to us, Jovana’s breathing is labored and pained. She lets out a long terrible groan.

  Mark stays at the back of the car, leaning on the upraised lid of the trunk.

  “You going to take care of her?” I ask. “You can’t let her die. She’s a special.”

  “I’m deciding,” Mark says.

  Colette pushes to a sitting position. “You had to use la putain de belly dart.”

  “Sorry,” Mark says. “It was preloaded.”

  “Stick to the green one,” Colette says, her hands still pressed to her stomach. “Much more civilized.”

  Mark shrugs.

  I stand up and help Colette to her feet. She staggers a bit, and I wrap an arm around her waist.

  “Jax is going to be glad to see you,” she says.

  “Shit, I should have known,” Mark says and kicks the car again.

  It takes a moment for their words to sink in, but then my heart leaps. “He’s alive?”

  Colette takes a step toward her car. “Yes. He’s with Sam. They’re on their way to Washington.” She points to the bag. “Is that yours?”

  I snatch it up. My heart is hammering. Jax is alive! I knew it! I want to scream it out loud, but I just hang on to Colette as we hobble across the broken asphalt.

  We make it to the BMW and she rests her hand on the hood. “I’m not ready to drive yet.”

  “Let me,” I say. “I’ve handled a couple Vigilante cars at this point.”

  “Not one for a Phase Six you haven’t,” she says with a pained laugh.

  “First time for everything.”

  She lurches toward the passenger side, and I help her get in the seat. “This one takes an hour to recover from,” she says. “Not, as you say, my first rodeo with this dart.”

  “Just rest a bit,” I answer and close her door.

  I go around to the other side. Colette has already started the engine, and it scarcely even vibrates beneath my seat as I slide into place. I toss my bag in the back.

  Colette’s steering wheel isn’t a circle like other cars. It is made of two triangles with a rounded outer grip. It doesn’t just turn, but also tilts forward or back.

  “You might be right about this,” I say.

  “You’ll get it,” Colette says, pressing the side of her head to the cool glass of her window. “I’ll talk you through it. Once you have the basics, we can do auto-drive. I just want to make sure you can manage the car if we drop out of it.”

  In front of us, Mark has bent down next to Jovana. He’s holding another red antidote vial, but he hasn’t given it to her yet.

  “Shouldn’t we bring her in or something?” I ask.

  “Can’t. She’s a special. And I’m not combat trained. It was everything I had just to put up a defense.” Colette’s normal French lilt goes darker, like she’s defeated. “I don’t know how we can take her out of commission.”

  “Are you still in good standing with the Vigilantes?” I ask. “I think I may have gotten Sam in trouble.”

  “He was decommissioned. Technically I’m still on duty, but until all this settles out, none of us are really safe.” She points at the steering wheel. “The gearshift is by your right thumb. Click and hold the top button to go into reverse.”

  I do what she says.

  “You can press the gas like normal with your foot,” she says, “but be careful about pulling the wheel toward you. That doubles your acceleration.”

  “Is the brake like normal?” I feel around the bottom with my foot.

  “Yes, there is a standard brake. But you can also stop the car instantly by jerking down on the wheel with deliberate force.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Anything really stupid I could do?”

  “Don’t mess with the switch on the base of the steering wheel. It is for the other modes of the car and changes all the actions of the buttons and wheel motions.”

  “Like when you drive across water?” I ask.

  “Yes, like that.”

  I take in a deep breath. Mark still hasn’t moved from his position beside Jovana.

  I ease the accelerator down, half expecting this specialized car to shoot backward like a rocket. But it rolls the way a civilian car would. I let go of my held breath.

  Colette laughs lightly. “You look like you’re strapped to a missile.”

  I press the brake. “I feel like I am. Which one for drive?”

  “Go with the bottom one. It’s the equivalent of the automatic transmission in civilian cars.”

  I press it. I check the mirrors. There’s no one coming. In fact, no one has passed us the entire time we’ve been out here. “What happened to the traffic? Surely there are at least a few cars along here.”

  “I had a couple locals set up a construction detour,” Colette says. “The way that jerk was driving, he was going to kill a civilian.”

  I pull out onto the road with a tentative push on the gas. Jovana still writhes on the ground. Mark has at least uncapped the antidote. As we come up beside them, Colette rolls down her window. “Civilians arriving any minute. Clean this up.”

  Then we are past and the two of them get smaller and smaller until I can’t make them out anymore.

  We approach a big orange and white roadblock. A few bewildered neighbors are standing beside
this as if they don’t understand why it’s there. They’re even more confused when we swerve around it and move on.

  “They’ll figure it out and move it,” Colette says. “We have to get to Jax.” She taps on her dash screen. “Uh-oh.”

  I glance down at it, my hands tight on the wheel. “What?”

  “I got a call from Sam’s Blackphone while we were tied up with Jovana.”

  “Is there a message?”

  Colette shakes her head. “I’m using an encrypted line, off network. Voice mail isn’t secure.”

  She dials through. The pinging sound makes me shiver as the call tries to connect.

  It picks up, the screen showing only an audiowave that rises and falls with the sounds.

  But I’d know that voice anywhere.

  “About time you bothered to answer,” Jax says. “You getting your nails done?”

  Colette laughs. “Got a red dart to the belly,” she says. “Think I’ll choose a polish to match.”

  “Ouch,” he says. “Hate the red darts.”

  He pauses, and I can barely contain myself. I want to squeal but I don’t want to interrupt them.

  “I could probably use a lift,” he says. “I jumped off the Interstate 81 bridge into the Potomac.”

  “Jax!” I cry out. “Are you okay?”

  “Mia?” he asks. “You have Mia?”

  “I do,” Colette says. “I’d laugh but it really hurts when I laugh.”

  “We’ll pick you up,” I say quickly. “I’m driving Colette’s car until she recovers from the dart. Where are you now?”

  His voice is warm now, happy sounding. My heart skitters. I can’t believe I’m talking to Jax!

  “I’m running along Route 63. There’s a funeral home ahead, but it’s not on the Vigilante books. So I’ll head into the cemetery behind it.”

  “Got it,” I say. “How far are we?” I ask Colette.

  “If I can coax Mia into super drive, we’ll be there in thirty,” Colette says. “She’s never driven like a Phase Six before, though.”

  Jax chuckles. “She hasn’t driven like a Phase Six yet.”

  “We’ll be there in thirty,” I say, and simultaneously slam the accelerator and pull the wheel toward my chest.