Page 88 of The Vigilante's Lover

A Vigilante.

Me.

I’m still trying to get used to the idea. I don’t like the oval ring on my thumb, so I start unraveling the hem of Jax’s discarded pajama pants until I have enough thread to wind through the ring and tighten up the hole.

“Exactly,” I say. I slip the ring on my middle finger. It fits better now.

We drive through the traffic-heavy streets of D.C. Colette has to remove the visibility cloak, or we’ll get run over by roaring taxis. We can only hope the other methods to hide us will hold.

The city is thick with cars, and the air bustles with helicopters. Of all the places to meet, this one feels the most fraught. “There’s so much security,” I say to Jax. “How do we know who is friend or foe?”

“Assume they are all the enemy,” Jax says. He sorts through Colette’s Vigilante stash of weapons and passes me a dart gun. “You good with this?”

“Well, it’s not as hot as the blue one with bullets,” I say, teasing.

Jax’s gaze drops to my lap, as if he’s picturing the metal barrel sliding between my legs. “We’re going to have to do that again,” he says.

I curl my arm around his neck. “Mmmm-hmmm.”

“Okay, lovebirds, Sam at two o’clock,” Colette says. “Look lively to see if anyone spots him.”

“They’ll never get a heat signature in this snarl,” Jax says. He scans the perimeter of the car. “Give us a topside view,” he says.

Colette presses a button and a panel slides open to reveal a roof window. “I’m cloaking it because this tech will give us away,” she says.

“It’s just until he’s in,” Jax says. He keeps an eye on the helicopters above.

Sam himself appears, taking jaunty steps in a crosswalk ahead with a stream of pedestrians. He lingers near the back of the group, falling behind. When he spots the BMW, he cuts around a taxi and jumps into the front of the car.

“Nobody’s homing in,” Jax says. “Welcome back, Sam.”

He turns in his seat. “Good to see you in one piece, sir.” He elbows Colette. “Don’t open that roof hatch or he might go jumping off the flyover.”

“Hey, Sam,” I say.

“Lookin’ good, Mia,” he says. “Let’s bail on this traffic.”

“You got something I can use for navigation?” Colette asks. “We’ve been dark since West Virginia.” She buzzes the roof closed.

“I made a stop by one of my hacker networks,” Sam says. “I have an off-grid hookup to the Identipad system, plus we can tap into all the V-cars in this jurisdiction who are Phase One to Four. Then we’ll know who’s around us.”

“Young Vigilantes are heavily monitored,” Jax explains. “There’s a whole channel devoted to chatter about their progress.”

“Easy hack,” Sam says.

“That’s a decent start,” Colette says.

“Yeah, the real danger is in the Phase Tens on the prowl,” Sam says. “They are going to be like silent ghosts.”

“Any kill orders go out other than yours?” Jax asks.

“Not in the U.S. syndicates,” Sam says. “We’re still part of the alleged cleanup from your indiscretion. But they are putting marks on the Vigilantes taking the fall for the murders overseas.”

“How do we know those murders aren’t faked?” Colette asks. “They broadcasted Jax’s and his wasn’t real.”

“We don’t know it,” Sam says. “Nobody can trust anybody for anything.”

“Maybe I’m dead right now,” Colette says with a laugh. “I don’t even know who I work for anymore.”

“Me,” Jax says authoritatively. “You work for me. And nobody’s going to die today. Real or imagined.”

Sam shakes his head. “I hope so. I really do.”

“So let me get this straight,” Colette says. We’re stopped again. “Sutherland recruits the foreign Phase Tens, has them do their dirty business in their homelands, and then uses this to fuel a network-wide panic so he can come in and fix it all?”

“He’s already been granted access to five other networks,” Sam says.

“Why is that a big deal?” I ask. I don’t understand why Sutherland is doing this or why anybody cares.

“One of the beauties of the network has always been its syndicate autonomy,” Jax says. “We aren’t affiliated with any country or government. And each part of the network has its own rules, based on where they live.”

“Things that won’t fly here might be the norm in Syria or with an African tribe,” Sam says. “And others are far more stringent. Most of them aren’t nearly as lenient about gunplay as the U.S. is.”

“And that’s the way it should be,” Jax says. “There is no one-size-fits-all justice. And nobody needs to have all the information in one place. It isn’t necessary or wise.”

Sam pulls a panel off Colette’s dash and cuts a couple wires. “Sutherland is gunning for a global network. And now it’s starting to look like a good idea, thanks to his own sabotage.”

“Where is Carter?” Colette asks.

“Picked up ten minutes ago,” Sam says. “Paulson too. They should have had a body ready to cremate. Easy to figure out Jax wasn’t disposed of. Sloppy, sloppy.”

He twists a new set of wires in and the dash lights up. The map glows red.

“Mon Dieu,” Colette says. “And that’s just the young ones?”

“Half the network is in town,” Jax says. “That can’t be good.”

“I hope Sutherland really is behind this,” Sam says. “If he’s not, then someone could take out a huge chunk of the U.S. operatives in one go.”

Jax sits back, his finger passing over his lips as he gets lost in thought. “This is making me wonder if Sutherland chose Jovana, or if maybe she chose him.”

“I don’t think so,” I say. “She was outraged when he wouldn’t call her back. She’s pretty much showing up without his permission.”

Sam glances back at us. “Looks like you spent some quality time with her.” His gaze shifts to Jax. “In fact, you both look like bloody hell.”

“We’re a little worse for wear,” Colette says. “You, however, don’t have a scratch on you.”

“I’m too intellectual for all this brutality,” Sam says. He passes a dart gun back to Jax. “Note that this one is a new drug. No antidote. Wears off on its own but drops them in six seconds. Keeps them down for two hours.”

I wonder if that’s what Jovana gave me, twice.

“How many of these you got?” he asks.

“Just the one gun. But it has three darts.”

I hold the dart gun Jax gave me with both hands, extending my arms so I can find the sights to aim. Jax takes it and passes me the new one. It is lighter and more streamlined. I lift it to check the sights.

Jax raises my elbows so I’m more level. “It has a laser sight.” He clicks a button and a red beam hits the window, indicating where the dart will land. “This isn’t an exploding bullet, so you have to aim for something fleshy,” he says.

“Will it go through clothes?”

“Any civilian body armor,” Sam says.

“Do Vigilantes have body armor?” I ask. I line the sights up with the taxi sign on the car outside the window. I’m glad the passengers can’t see into our car, or they’d freak the heck out.

“Sutherland will,” Jax says. “And the committee. With the other Vigilantes, it depends on whether they are fighters who would get slowed down by it. It doesn’t help you if you’re shot in the face or get a dart to the hand or neck.”

Yuck. Gruesome. I take a deep breath. I can do this. I have to.

“So who am I aiming for?” I ask. “Am I supposed to kill Sutherland?”

“No!” comes a chorus from the car, everyone at once.

“Okay!” I say. “Just checking.”

“You’ve got her all fired up,” Colette says.

“I can get us to HQ,” Sam says. “And I can make sure we’re not spotted.”

“But,” Jax says.

“But,” Sam continues, “I don’t have any clue how to stop this thing. Sutherland’s obviously had it in the works for a couple years.”

“He’s choosing to initiate it right now, though,” Jax says. “Something about the conditions is in his favor.”

“Honestly,” Sam says, “I think he had to move up his timeline because you busted out of jail. The longer you were a problem, the less credibility he had.”

“Plus the vendetta,” I add. “Jax has got a killer case for revenge. He’s probably nervous that Jax is going to take him out.”

But when I look over at Jax, he doesn’t seem eager for battle. Just resigned and resolute.