Page 13 of The Vigilante's Lover

Sometime in the morning hours, I jerk instantly awake. Every muscle tenses and prepares for battle, a skill drilled into me in my youth. I assess my surroundings to make sure nothing has changed, that there are no intruders.

Darkness blankets the hotel suite. No sounds. I flip my wrist and press a button on the knife holster, which scans for thermal shifts. Only the fireplace coals show as red. I’m alone in the room.

A thud from above lets me know this is what awakened me. I’m disgruntled that this suite is not on the top floor. Noises from above always bring me fully awake in seconds.

I switch on a lamp. The dim face of a clock reads five a.m. Might as well begin the day.

Laid out on the easy chair is a suit bag, left by the two women last night.

A quick peek inside confirms the contents: a clean undershirt, soft cotton boxers, socks.

And a killer charcoal suit with impeccable tailoring.

Armond, you’re a godsend.

I cast my shirt and pants aside and go through my daily exercises in my boxers, still the rough prison variety left from my escape.

Sit-ups, push-ups, some simple yoga stretches, and a round of tai chi. It feels good to do them somewhere other than a concrete cell. Workout complete, I head into the bathroom by the outer door, stifling the urge to go into the bedroom.

I shower and dress in the clean suit, then brace myself to check on Mia. No telling what sort of mood she’ll be in today. When the two women left, they said she was clean and dressed and ready for me to approve her outfit, but I decided to let them make the choices. I left her alone.

Chicken, my gut tells me. But I prefer to think of it as careful. Something is happening with her that suggests different training than I would expect from her at age twenty.

Most Vigilante girls finish college before going into service, but other families place their daughters in the program in their teens. Only a few will put younger children in training, although cunning youth are very useful in certain situations.

The Vigilante life is a birthright, but you still have to choose it.

When my parents informed me at age twelve of my position, I went straight into boot camp, excited by the possibilities.

My older brother Arthur, however, being scientifically minded and desiring a career marked by test tubes and Bunsen burners, opted out.

It’s been a good life, even though my parents left the program when I turned thirty.

Or at least it was good, until this past year and my imprisonment.

I assess my scruffy face in the bathroom mirror. I’m not sure what Mia sees when she looks at me. Her kidnapper, no doubt. But she is such a case in opposites. Frightened, then brave. Angry, then cunning. Innocent, then seductively standing naked by a bed.

Who is this girl I have taken into my possession? I’m not sure if I should be protecting her or keeping up my own guard.

I have concerns about entering a high-security silo. There might be hostility. If they do finally arrange a tribunal to hear the facts surrounding my murder of another Vigilante, it could take days. I probably should leave the girl out of it.

But if I enter the facility, I will learn more about Mia’s past.

I want to know who she is, where she comes from, what the Vigilantes plan to do with her. She should have a career path, a training regimen. Maybe I can influence it, or at least know where she is.

Unless she’s an enemy. In that case, she can rot along with Jovana and her ilk.

I open the bedroom door carefully, quietly.

Mia sleeps soundly in the bed. The red ropes loosely hold her in place, tied by the two women per my instructions. The knots are rough and unpracticed, but they do their job.

Mia’s honey-brown hair spills over the fluffy pillows like strands of fine silk. Even though her arms are tied, she has managed to pin the covers with her elbows. The sheet is pulled to her chin, but I spy the strap of a red negligee.

Armond must have sent word of my favorite color. Against her pale skin, the swath of crimson stands out like a warning flag.

As it should. The last time I inspected a woman this closely, she got me sent to prison.

Mia stirs as I cross the room. Her eyes flutter for a second before awareness hits and she wakes with a gasp.

“Good morning, temptress,” I say.

She stares at me and pulls against her bonds. A grimace creases her brow.

“Are you going to let me up?” she asks. “This isn’t exactly comfortable.” Her words carry a hint of accusation.

“In a moment. First, we talk.”

She looks down for a moment as if to ensure her modesty, then lets her gaze slide back my way.

“I am going to a Vigilante stronghold. There I hope to find out where Klaus might be and start the process of clearing my name.”

Her eyes shine with some thought. Hope of being left behind, alone?

“You are coming with me,” I add with a smile.

“Why?” The shine is gone.

“Because I need you. And I’m curious. The Vigilantes have info on everyone. Everyone except you. If I can’t find the answers I seek at the silo, I will extract information from you. I can make you talk.”

Mia visibly swallows. She probably thinks I’m talking about torture. Poor girl.

“Don’t worry, Mia. I like you, remember?”

“Parts of you do,” she says blandly.

Now she is behaving more like I expected.

I approach the bed. Mia stiffens a little, which makes me smile. Back to her training. The frightened act.

I know better. She stood naked before me last night and waited for me to kiss her. I didn’t give her the satisfaction, although I sorely could have used it myself.

I pull out the first knot in the ropes binding her to the bed. She drops the scared expression and stretches her arm. Her sigh of contentment goes straight to my gut.

I feel that hitch, that pull of desire. I quash it with a quick spike of anger.

“Do not think for an instant that I will hesitate to do what it takes to keep you in line,” I say. I tug on the rope for emphasis.

“Hey!” she says with a glare. She shifts on the bed and the sheet slips down to reveal the fiery lace negligee. It cups her breasts, pushing them into an impossibly deep cleavage, then falls in a sheer swath of red to where she is hidden again by the covers.

Is she playing with me? I trust her even less than I did a moment ago. Still, my body’s reaction is swift. I want her. I have to clamp down on my jaw to resist the urge to press her down on the bed and end this charade right now.

“Up,” I say.

She jerks against the rope. “How?” A flash of anger makes her face even more beautiful.

“Fine.” I untie everything except the binds around each of her wrists.

“Hand me that dress,” she says. “And the bra.”

I intend to make another searing remark. But instead, I turn to the red sweater dress draped over the side chair. Next to it, a small box holds a matching bra.

I pass her the clothing, and she pulls it beneath the covers and disappears under a bulge of blanket.

After a moment, the red negligee flies through the air. It hits the beige carpet like a bloodstain.

I lean against the wall, my anger dissipating. I’ve never seen a woman act like this. Temptress, then shy girl. It’s entertaining, at least.

Mia slides from the covers fully dressed, but the sweater hugs her curves in all the best places as she moves toward the bathroom.

She insists on closing the door, pointing to the device on her neck. I nod. It doesn’t matter. There’s no way a half-trained Phase One can escape me, and I’m done playing games about it. There is no window in the bathroom. If she exited either door, I could drop her unconscious in seconds.

I head to the main room and pull out the Vigilante tech kit Sam gave me. I pick up my watch and check the band. With just the right motion, two short, sharp prongs slip out. The tips glisten with contact poison. Handy.

The bathroom door opens and Mia emerges, looking rather resplendent despite her disheveled hair. The dress gives with every motion and seems to ripple over her body. She moves with an inborn grace.

Mia holds out her arms where the long trail of ropes are looped around her delicate wrists. “Ready to lead me out of here like a slave girl?”

I approach and her surprise is palpable as I untie her wrists and free her fully from her binding.

“Why didn’t you do that earlier?” she asks as she rubs the marks on her skin. “Would have made things easier.” She glances back into the bathroom.

I chuckle. “It would have, yes. But where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re an ass,” she says.

For a moment, camaraderie courses between us, like we’re on the same team.

But we’re not. I can’t forget that. Not for an instant.

“We will be walking out of here together.” I let my voice go cold. “Remember that I can sedate you at any time, so I suggest you behave yourself. A woman fainting won’t raise an eyebrow from the staff.”

She frowns, the easy teasing gone. It’s best that we both remember our place in this scheme.

“I need my shoes,” she says.

I wave in the direction of the bedroom. Mia heads there, looking confused and torn. I have an urge to touch her, give her some sort of comfort. Damn, this girl is vexing.

I’m starting to sense that maybe she had juvenile training early on and this faltering temptress trick is something new.

Still, shoddy work. I feel increasingly certain that she’s part of Jovana’s brood, and not true Vigilante.

The program is unsurpassed in matching a trainee with his or her natural gifts, and they would never place a half-prepared Vigilante in a safe house.

Mia comes back, teetering unsteadily on stiletto heels. “This is a new look for me,” she says.

Great. She’ll be incapable of walking more than five feet. No matter. We have to get moving.

I touch a button on the table and within minutes, a man enters. With only a faint nod from me, he gathers my packed suit and another red bag that contains additional outfits for Mia.

When he has gone out ahead of us, I say, “It’s time.”

She has walked to the French doors and turns, backlit by the morning sun. Her hair is glorious and wild, the red dress giving her a sultry silhouette. Yes, she will make one hell of an operative, in time.

I step forward and take her hand. She makes an obvious show of looking away but does not resist.

We walk the hotel hallway in silence. Mia concentrates on her balance as we go down the elevator and arrive at the back entrance.

The Lexus is already waiting in the pull-through, the driver’s door hanging open. The attendant opens the front passenger door, and Mia hesitates for a second before climbing in. I slip into the driver’s seat and pull away the moment he closes her door.

I’m not sure how much I should warn her about what we’re about to go into. If she’s a Vigilante, she’s been to syndicates before.

I consider the possibility that Mia’s information board will be as blank at the silo as it was on the Identipad. If that’s true, I’ll ask them to hold on to her for me. I’ll get to the bottom of who she is on my own.

If she really is one of my enemies, she’ll be captured. I’ll take great pleasure in interrogating her myself, no holds barred.

Great pleasure.

Mia stares out the window, lost in thought. Her skin is fair in the morning light. I may just have to accept the fact that I’m caught by her.

I decide not to say anything about the situation. Hopefully things will work out without too much drama. I’ll go in, confess my role in killing Jovana’s rival and how it came about, and we’ll start the process of clearing my name.

After the night it all went down, no one brought me to the syndicate for questioning. I was taken to Ridley Prison like a common criminal, without any sort of Vigilante tribunal. I aim to find out who arranged that and why no one stepped forward to challenge how my case was handled.

“Is it far?” Mia asks.

“An hour,” I say.

Mia smooths out a rumple in her skirt. She seems almost nervous. I wonder if she has something to hide, something that will be revealed when she enters the silo. Maybe she plans to attack me and escape before we arrive.

This is going to be a very interesting morning.