Chapter Five

Misty yanked the brush through her hair. “This has been the slowest week of my life.”

“Seeing your mystery man again?” Rena grinned. “And no wardrobe advice this time. I guess you’re not as nervous?”

“Yes, I am and no, I’m not.”

Rena watched her finish getting ready. “Ha!” She pointed. “You are nervous. Your hands are shaking.”

“I am not, I tell you.” Misty turned, staring at her. “It’s anticipation.” She passed through the floor, and Rena ran down the steps, meeting her at the front door.

“You need to quit doing that when you’re done talking.”

“But then, how would you get your exercise?” Misty grinned.

“When I think of a comeback for that, you’re in big trouble!” Rena shouted as Misty hurried out to her sports car and drove away.

****

When Misty pulled up next to the curb in front of Taylor, he opened the door and frowned at the tiny interior.

Pointing to the small seats and almost nonexistent legroom, he grimaced. “You want me to fit in that?”

She grinned. “You can make it.” She waited while he squeezed his large frame into the small bucket seat, reaching down to put it all the way back. He sighed as he put the seat belt on.

“See?” she said. “I told you. Now, how would you like to see how the other half lives?”

“I’d love to,” he said, still adjusting himself to get comfortable in the tiny car. “What did you have in mind? Dinner with the Hiltons then off to England to visit with the Royals?”

She laughed. “Nothing so elaborate. How about dinner at one of my favorite restaurants then maybe a movie?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “I suppose it’ll do. But I thought I was paying for this date since I did the asking.”

“Nope. Tonight, everything’s on me.”

His smile broke out fully. “I like you modern women. Can I borrow five bucks for gas?”

She turned sharply, his smile catching her off guard. God help me if he really turns on the charm. “What?”

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” she said, not sure if he was kidding or not.

They stood at the dining room entrance and Misty greeted some of the servers. She looked around, taking in how the deep burgundy carpet glowed under the golden lights from the chandelier and the diners speaking in hushed tones. This is how a restaurant should be, she thought.

The host rushed over. “Ms. Severin, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

She smiled as she shook his hand. “Same here. I made sure to make reservations tonight instead of just dropping in.”

He smiled. “Your usual table will be ready in a moment.”

“You’re just too good to me.” She watched him hurry away.

“Do you own this place?” Taylor asked her.

She shook her head. “No. Just a lot of patronage on my part. You can’t beat good service and excellent food.”

They were shown to their table, and Misty looked up from her menu to see Taylor staring at her. “What?”

“I’d like to cook for you one night, if you’d like.”

Warmth spread through her at his suggestion. “Sounds great.” She bet she’d get a whole different service than what she got here. At least, she hoped she would.

They ordered and Misty asked for a bottle of her favorite wine. She kept glancing at him while they waited for their food and then while they ate. He caught her staring at him and smiled, reaching over to hold her hand.

The waiters cleared their table and Taylor looked at his watch as Misty settled the check. “It’s almost eight thirty. We’ve been here over two hours.”

She watched him. Everything he does is sexy. “Really? The next features for the movies don’t start until after ten. How about a walk instead?”

“Perfect.”

They strolled in the early June evening, the temperature still not too warm. As they walked, Misty noticed him again, constantly checking over his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I think we’re being followed.”

She frowned as he glanced over his shoulder again. “Get down,” he barked, pushing her behind a large planter near a storefront as a shot whizzed over their heads.

He glowered in the direction of the shot then turned to her. “Stay here and keep out of sight. I’ll be back soon.”

Misty watched as he sprinted down the street. Her power kicked in instinctively, and her left arm had faded halfway in the sidewalk to stop her from being injured. What the heck was going on she wondered. She pulled herself together, climbing to her feet with the rest of the crowd.

She smiled as people went about their business like nothing happened. With the rise in the number of paranormals, a gunshot wasn’t nearly as frightening as someone shooting lasers from their hands, changing the weather, or conjuring huge alien weapons from thin air. Ah, life in a city populated with paranormals. She moved to a doorway to wait.

****

“Bloody hell,” Jack muttered. “Doesn’t he have anything else to do with his time?”

He ran around the corner, barely getting his arm up to block the large metal fist aiming at his head.

“Cyber-X,” he said flatly. “You need a new hobby.”

The metal arm and legs looked out of place on the middle-aged man with the military haircut and goggles perched on top of his head. The light blue, thickly padded leather vest creaked as the mercenary rested a wicked looking rifle on his hip.

“That would mean not fulfilling my contract. The contract is to bring in one ULTRA Field Commander Jack McClennan. That would be you.” Cyber-X watched him closely. “And I’ve never left a job unfinished.”

Jack rolled his shoulders, loosening the tenseness building. “What if I bought my contract? I can pay you ten times what it’s worth.”

Cyber-X shook his head, looking bored by the offer. “No, I don’t think so. You see, you’re the closest person that’s ever come to being my equal. It’s not about the money any more. It’s about who’s the better cyborg.”

“You have a partner and that gives you the advantage. I’m alone.”

Cyber-X shrugged. “She’s my ace, and as I’ve been hunting you for six months and you’re still free, I’m guessing you don’t really need a partner.”

Jack frowned. Six months? He needed to start keeping better track of the time. He didn’t realize the cybernetic mercenary had been hunting him that long. “Then let it go. I’m taking up way too much of your time.”

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “ULTRA wants you back. You’ve got a lot to answer for.”

Jack drew the gun he’d concealed under his shirt. “Then you’d better plan on killing me, because that’s the only way I’m going.”

He jerked back as Cyber-X quickly drew a small, double-bladed knife and swung in a wide arc. He felt the familiar burn as the blade sliced his face open. He grabbed the mercenary’s wrist and flipped him over his shoulder before he could take another swipe.

Blood ran down his face, dripping on his shirt. Jack’s lip curled as anger raged through him. He cocked the gun. “Stay away from me, or I swear I’ll kill you where you stand.”

He fired off several rounds in quick succession, forcing Cyber-X to dive for cover. Jack ran back the way he came, slowing to a walk as he drew closer to Misty. He shook his head. “Leaving an enemy alive now?” he mumbled. “You’re getting soft, hero.”

Ignoring the looks people gave him, his mouth set in a grim line, he stomped down the sidewalk. He’ll never stop, he thought. Not until he’s completed his contract. He could admire determination in others, but in Cyber-X, it was getting downright annoying.

****

Misty waited, looking for Taylor. Why would someone shoot at him? Of course, they could’ve been aiming at her. As a member of the Angels’ hero team and an ULTRA liaison, she always had some nutcase after her. It was only a matter of time before she was caught in her civilian identity.

She checked for him again. Still no Taylor. She started walking in the direction he’d gone. He could be hurt. Her desolidification powers would keep her safe from whoever it was, but then how would she keep that secret from him? She sighed. Sometimes life is way too complicated.

When she saw him coming, her eyes widened at his face. A bloody line ran from his forehead down the right side of his nose before tapering off near his chin. “What happened to you? Is that cut from a knife?”

He ignored her, brushing aside her concern. “Can I get a rain check for the rest of tonight?”

She nodded. “Sure. Is there anything I can do?”

He wiped blood out of his good eye. “I need a ride back to my place.”

“All right.” She paused, “Do you want to go to the police?” She unlocked the doors and they climbed in.

He wouldn’t look at her. “It’s all right. Just a case of mistaken identity, nothing more.”

“Do you want to see a doctor?” She glanced at him. “It looks kind of deep.”

A muscle jumped in his cheek, and he clenched his fists. “Leave it be!” he said, his voice rising. “I’m fine.”

Misty opened her mouth several times to say something, anything to lighten the tension in the small car, but his mood darkened with every mile, and the only words he barked were directions to his apartment.

The building she pulled up to was neat, but years of weather had faded the paint, some of it peeling in places, and tufts of grass in the parking lot won the battle with the asphalt’s cracks. Taylor got out without waiting for her and headed for the main entrance.

“Do you want some help?” she asked hesitantly, following him through the door and down the hall.

He threw open the door with a bang. “If you want,” he grumbled, tossing his keys on the small armchair. Without a word, he headed for the kitchen.

Misty slid her blazer off as she looked around his home. No pictures, no keepsakes, or knickknacks—nothing personal at all. The air was stale and a layer of dust covered everything. She shivered with what Rena called the heebie jeebies. What am I doing here? I don’t know anything about him. She flinched as she heard him banging in the kitchen.

“Do you want something to drink?” he yelled.

She walked to the doorway seeing anger still evident in his expression. “No, thanks.” He wasn’t angry at her, but she felt sorry for whoever it was.

He reached into the refrigerator, pulled out a beer, popped the cap off with his thumb, and took a long swallow.

“Do you have anything to clean up that cut?”

He jerked his head toward the small hallway. “There’s stuff in the bathroom. Don’t worry, though. I’ve been hurt worse than this.”

She laid her hand on his arm. “Please, let me help you.”

He stared at the bottle in his hand. “I haven’t been very kind to you, have I?” He turned to her and smiled. “All right, if it’ll make you feel better, you can play doctor.”

Once in the bathroom, she grabbed the items she needed to clean up his face, then she felt the familiar nudging of a telepathic contact. “What is it, Rena?”

“I read your distress earlier. You okay?”

“Hunky dory.” She couldn’t stop herself from sighing. “You worry too much. Taylor had a little mishap, that’s all. I’m going to make sure he’s okay then I’ll be home.”

“Okay,” Rena answered slowly. “Take care.”

“All the time.”

She returned to the living room, slowing when she heard him shouting at someone on the phone.

“I don’t care how you do it. Get him off my back.” He paused. “No, I don’t know who issued it. If I took the time to do that, it’d be a death warrant, not just an arrest warrant.” Another pause. “I don’t care who authorized it. Bloody hell, Amy, just do it!”

He banged the phone down back in its cradle and turned, seeing Misty standing behind him. “Don’t ask.”

“Sit on the couch, and I’ll get you cleaned up,” she said, ignoring the hardness in his voice.

He sat on the edge, his body stiff and unyielding. “Get it over with. I’ve got people to see.”

“You’ll have to take off your eye-patch,” she said slowly.

He ripped it off and threw it across the room. She inhaled sharply at the solid white orb sitting where his eye should’ve been. It wasn’t glass or any other material she’d ever seen. It looked unnatural, like painted metal.

“Just go home. I knew you couldn’t take it.” He sneered.

She poked him hard in the chest. “That’s it! All I’m trying to do is help, and you make me feel like I’m torturing you. I was a little surprised, that’s all. Now sit there, shut up, and let me work.”

His eyes widened then he chuckled. “Yes, ma’am. Do what you have to, and I promise to behave.”

“You’re still not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?” Misty dabbed at the cut.

“I can’t. It’s for your own protection.” He paused, looking like he wanted to say something else, but stopped. “The less you know, the better off you’ll be.”

She watched the peroxide bubble. “One day I want the whole story,” she said smearing on a light coating of antibiotic ointment.

He caught her hands. “The day you find everything out, I won’t be around to explain.”

The tube fell from her fingers as he held her hands. He pulled her closer, and she went willingly, dropping to her knees in front of him. She gazed in his eyes as he ran his hand up her arm, stopping at her neck. She leaned closer, and his hand moved down, brushing her breast. She jumped.

“Why did you come along now?” he whispered, his lips just inches from hers.

“What do you mean?” She laid her hands on his thighs, slowly moving them up to his waist.

“Nothing.” He leaned closer, his eyes closing as he captured her mouth with his, sighing when she opened hers to allow him to take everything she had to give.

He lifted her up to straddle his lap, pulling her shirt from her pants. He ran his hands along her bare skin, placing a small kiss above the opening of her shirt, then his thumbs rubbed back and forth over her breasts, teasing her into excitement. He kissed the valley between her breasts as his hands covered them taking her breath away.

She ran her hands through his hair, wanting to hold his head right there. Her body burned for him, and she almost cried when he pulled away, setting her on her feet.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, walking to the kitchen. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and she looked down at the floor, not sure what she should say.

He turned. “The longer you’re with me, the more danger you’re in.”

Misty frowned, wishing she understood him. “I’d better go,” she said, grabbing her blazer. Digging a receipt out of her purse, she wrote her phone number on the back and laid it on the desk by the door. “If you want to talk, call me.”

He drank some of the beer he’d opened. “Misty,” he called. She stopped, her hand on the doorknob. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard, his tongue delving into her mouth. “Thank you.”

The taste of the bitter brew lingered there, and she trembled as he held her. “You’re welcome,” she said, struggling to get her breath back. He slowly released her, and she headed to her car on rubbery legs.