Page 46 of The Vigilante's Lover

While Mia showers, I ball up the sheets and drop several large bills on top. I don’t really want to deal with an innkeeper.

I spread out the stolen tech Mia took from Klaus.

I don’t expect that we will go much longer without intercepting him, and possibly Jovana.

He’s going to know I will come after him.

The fact that he visited Mia alone is puzzling.

From her account, he was fishing for information.

No doubt he is as flummoxed as I am about her lack of data in the Vigilante network.

The onyx ring she was wearing is on the floor by the bed.

I pick it up. It’s a curious piece, oval, and way too big for her fingers.

I remember spotting it in the stash at her house that first night and slipping it on my finger to see if it had some special feature I didn’t know about.

By all appearances, it is just a ring. Maybe it made it into the Vigilante boxes by mistake. I drop it in the pile.

Mia comes out, still in the pajamas. She’s all shy, eyes cast to the floor, plucking at her pajama shirt. She holds up the pair of men’s shoes. “I forgot about these. Are they going to catch us now?”

She seems so frightened and lost that I want to comfort her. I force myself to smile instead. “Only trainees have trackers in their shoes,” I say.

Her face shows so much relief that I laugh, a genuine one this time. “We’ll stop somewhere that I can pick up an outfit for you,” I tell her.

“We’re going to my house, right?” she asks. “I can get my own things there.”

I’m not sure how much to warn her about what’s ahead. Even though the shoes aren’t tracked and the car is wiped of Klaus, if he and Jovana have any sense, they will see our next move.

I don’t care that they will lay a trap for us at Mia’s house. I don’t care that they will predict our arrival.

I just want my hands on both of them.

“Will you kill them?” Mia asks, so softly that I can barely make out her words.

“Who? Klaus and Jovana?”

“Is that her name? Jovana? Your old girlfriend?”

It sounds so quaint when she says it. Girlfriend.

“Yes, that’s her name. And no, I won’t necessarily kill them. But when you’re in combat, you do what you have to do.”

She puts Klaus’s shoes back on, and we walk out to the car. “We’re going to move the car I drove into town with to a secure location,” I tell her.

“I could drive it back for you,” she says.

“It’s better if we stash it somewhere that we can access it.”

Her head drops again. I guess she’s expecting me to say something about last night, to act a certain way. But I don’t do that. I’m not trying to start a relationship with her. There’s no way that can work. I’m a fugitive, and this situation I’m in goes all the way to the top.

There’s no way this can end well.

So I just walk out to the car and let her follow. We ride in silence through the community. When we’ve moved the stolen Vigilante car, I head out on the highway. I scan our route for law enforcement and impediments.

When all seems clear enough, I inject the accelerant, pleased at the powerful rumble of my own car as we shoot down the highway at four hundred miles per hour. For a short while, it’s almost as if the terrible last year never happened.

Mia sits in silence, looking out the window at the blaze of passing trees and houses. “Life in the fast lane,” she says softly.

“Surely makes you lose your mind,” I add.

She watches me with those big green eyes. It’s another moment that I could say something comforting about what happened between us. But I don’t do it. I focus back on the road.

When we’re about a mile from Mia’s house, I tell her, “I’d feel better if you let me drop you off a good distance away. There will be traps set.”

“No!” she insists. “It’s my house. I know it better than anyone.”

“I can’t put you in that danger,” I say, gripping the steering wheel.

“The danger came to me!” Her voice is high and firm. “You won’t keep me out of my own home!”

“It’s a safe house, Mia. Full of traps and monitors and equipment stashes.”

“I know!” she says. “I found the one under the pantry.” Her voice gets quiet. “It had guns in it.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about.” The pine trees whiz by.

“What?” she asks.

“If you can’t even look at a gun, how are you ever going to use one?”

We approach her drive. It’s empty. Not even her old Ford is there. “Where is your car?” I ask.

“Up the road. Where I found this one.”

I pass her house, then turn on the same dirt road I used when I parked in the field behind her property on that first night.

“I’m going to cross the fields and approach the house. You have to stay in the car. I will lock you in.”

“You will not!”

“Mia, taking you with me puts me in great danger. I have to think about protecting you as well as myself.”

This gets to her. She stares out the window.

“We’ll talk the whole time.” I park beside a big roll of hay and open the console between us, where I stashed the most essential of my gear. “Here’s a secure videocam. You can see what I’m doing and we can talk the whole time.”

It’s a terrible idea, but I have already learned to hate disappointing her.

This is why I don’t do relationships. It interferes with the job.

She takes the video chat device.

“Press this to see me.” I punch a button on the top of the cam. The roof of the car shows up on the display.

“Okay,” she says quietly.

I know I should do something comforting, so I lean over and kiss her. It’s a mistake, because once I start, I don’t want to stop. My protectiveness surges as she clutches at my shoulders.

“I’ll be right back,” I finally say.

She touches her lips. “You’ll let me know when it’s safe for me to come in?”

“I will.”

The quiet surrounds me as I step from the car. Country life. A rabbit or some ground rodent darts through the grass. Amazing what you can hear out here.

I reach for the bag I packed. “I’ll be on the chat,” I say to Mia, then close the door and secure it.

The house is about three hundred yards away. I pull out a monitor to use when I’m scanning the house. I no more power it up when it starts going off. Six traps in the field.

Interesting. They went all out on this one.

I don’t bother to diffuse these, but go around them. They are basic land mines. But another reason for Mia not to leave the car. I pick up the video chat.

“Mia, there are six land mines in your field. Don’t get out of the car.”

Her face shifts to panic. “Really?”

“Klaus is a real peach,” I say.

She looks out the windshield. I turn back to the car, but naturally I can’t see her with the false screens showing an empty car. Still, I know she’s there. She’s sensible and smart. She won’t get out of the car now.

I pass close to one of the mines, so I go ahead and bend down to disarm it. There’s nothing special about the tech they are using here. It’s almost as if they don’t have access to anything that isn’t standard issue.

With Sutherland in on their game, I would expect better.

When I’m about fifty yards from the house, I start to see some of the traps inside. Looks to be three. Kitchen, hallway, her bedroom.

There’s nobody in the house, not as far as my sensors can see.

They could be cloaked, though, and they could be completely still.

When I get in a room, I can look for carbon dioxide emissions.

I’m not especially worried about a personal attack, though.

Klaus is a security guy, and Jovana, well, I overpowered her many times, in bed and out of it.

I glance at the screen on the video, a pinch of guilt nagging at me just for thinking it. Mia is staring straight into the screen, anxious and silent.

“It’s going fine,” I tell her.

She nods but doesn’t look any more relaxed.

I step onto the porch. The kitchen trap is an air pressure bomb, designed to go off when I open the door. The cool air moving inside triggers it. I move to the kitchen window and cut a neat circle in the pane over the lock.

I inch the window up gradually, allowing the room to adjust in temperature and barometric pressure. Then I carefully pop the locks on the door. There are a half dozen, but I opened them that first night. For a safe house, it is only marginally secure.

I ease open the door, avoiding that push of air that happens when you enter quickly. They probably expected I would come in with guns blazing. Maybe they thought I wouldn’t have any tech to identify their traps.

The bomb is just inside the door. It’s a simple matter now of walking up to it and shutting off the sensor. Now I can take it if I want it for myself. I pick it up and set it on the counter.

The pantry door is open and I have to smile when I see the shattered floor that reveals the metal hatch. That’s no Vigilante job. Mia must have managed to get it open. I turn my camera to show it. “Is this your work?” I ask her.

She nods and gives half a smile.

“Subtle,” I say.

This gets more of a reaction.

“Just two more to go,” I say.

The hallway bomb is a motion-sensor trigger. Maybe they hoped Mia herself would rush to her room. The thought of them hurting or killing her makes my blood start to pound.

It’s a smallish bomb, designed to maim someone at close range. “I’m just going to set this one off,” I tell Mia. “Don’t panic if you hear it fire.”

She nods.

I glance around the kitchen and spot a basket of oranges on the counter. I pick one up and head to the door to the hall. With a swift motion, I set the orange rolling down the hall and back away.

The POP of the bomb rings in my ears. I check the scanner. It’s the only one, and done. I glance at my handiwork. The wallpaper is scarred near the blast, and the floor is a little damaged. But overall, not too bad.

Just the one near her bedroom to go.

I approach the closed door with caution. They’ve set up something my scanner can’t quite identify. But the previous blast would have set off anything triggered by motion, sound, or pressure. So it’s something else.

Her door is tied like a gift with a large blue and yellow knot in the center.

“They’ve tied us a puzzle,” I say to Mia. I turn the video so she can see. “It’s a blood knot.”

“What’s the trap?” she asks.

“I don’t know. I assume if I untie it, it will blow.”

“Must be a joke since Klaus was probably not happy I tied him up.”

It actually sounds like something Jovana would do, but I don’t tell Mia that.

I scan the door. There’s another explosive on the other side, a big one. It could theoretically take out half the house.

“Looks like if I put too much pressure on the knot, it will blow,” I say.

“Just walk away,” Mia says.

“I’ll diffuse it,” I tell her. “I just have to untie it without creating any additional tautness in the line.”

“Let me see it closer,” she says.

“It’s simple,” I say. “A normal blood knot linking to different-colored ropes.” I point to the blue and yellow parts. “It’s like in the barn. I just have to work into the knot instead of away.”

“A blood knot is tightened by pulling on the opposite lines,” she says. “So sure, you can push them toward each other to undo it.”

“Not a problem,” I say and slip the video in the pocket. “I’ll be back out in just a few minutes, and I can show you how to disarm a land mine.”

“Show me that knot again,” she says, but I don’t pull the camera out of my pocket.

“It’ll just take a second,” I say. Carefully, I push the loose ends toward the center of the knot to give it some play.

This will be a cinch.