Enemy Lover (32 page)

Lazarus inspected the hand, then looked over at Jax, then to Marcus, who stared, unblinking, at his commander. “Did you take a picture of his corpse?”

“No, sir. Like I said, he had company. I didn’t have much time for the extras.”

For several long moments, Lazarus contemplated the hand, the laptop and Jax. Marcus did not offer any support. Nothing he could say or do would sway Lazarus’s mind.

“I accept your offering,” the colonel said.

Marcus nodded, not admitting to himself how relieved he was.

“Good. Then do we have a deal?” Jax asked, all smiles.

The colonel stood and stepped to the door, tossing the hand out onto the tarmac. He turned and softly said, “I don’t make deals, Miss Cassidy. Should I choose to procure your services, I’ ll contact you.” He looked at Marcus. “I’ ll expect you at dusk.” He turned and walked into the night.

Marcus stared after his maker, not liking his tone or his indifference.

Jax looked at Marcus and said, “That guy needs a serious chill pill.”

“The colonel has built The Solution from the ground up. He is the best at what he does. We handle serious business. There’s little time for shits and giggles.”

“All work and no play will kill a person.”

Marcus pulled the door shut and secured it as the engines began to rev. Jax’s words unnerved him. The colonel did need a chill pill, but tonight he’d been too cool, too accepting. The introduction and dissemination of information had gone too smoothly. Too quickly. If Lazarus had had any intention of using Jax in her mortal form, he’d have vetted her more thoroughly.

That he didn’t meant only one thing.

Jax’s mortal death and her resurrection as a true Solution operative were imminent. Once turned, Lazarus could control her.

That was absolutely unacceptable.

Not just because Marcus wanted to be the one to control Jax but because he wanted to protect her.

From Lazarus.

And there was only one way a stubborn woman like her would walk away from what she wanted: convince her her services were no longer wanted.

“Prepare for takeoff,” the pilot said from his seat in the cockpit.

Jax buckled up. Marcus moved to sit beside her and did the same.

Once they reached cruising altitude, Jax decided she wanted answers from Cross. “Since I bit you, some of your blood got into me,” she started, looking over at him. “It made me faster, stronger, more receptive to smells and more intuitive.”

Marcus nodded.

“Is that normal?”

Marcus nodded again.

“Is Colonel Lazarus like you?”

Marcus stared hard at her. “I’ ll take that as a yes,” she replied and pushed onward. “Are there more like you?”

He nodded.

“Do you all work for the colonel?”

Marcus sighed and turned to completely face her. He took her face into his hands and looked pointedly at her. “I can’t answer your questions, Jax. Not all of them.”

“Then I’ ll ask the colonel.”

Marcus scowled. “He’s dangerous. For your health, stay away from him.”

She pulled away. “It bothers you that he wants me.” Jax had felt the colonel’s interest when he’d kissed her hand. Not sexual in nature but primal just the same.

Marcus’s jaw clenched. “Seek other employment.”

Surprise made her eyes widen. Jealousy was one thing, but she’d just killed a man. Well, at least that’s what Marcus thought. And now he expected her to just walk away? So he would not have to share her? She shook her head. “I executed the mission flawlessly. I held up my part of the bargain and you held up yours. We both got what we wanted.”

Marcus grabbed her by the biceps and shook her. “Listen to me,” he hissed. “The colonel is powerful, one of the most powerful of our kind. I can’t protect you from him.” He shoved her back in her seat.

“You like me,” she breathed, and smiled despite the tension. “You
really
like me.”

Marcus looked at her like she was crazy, but he shook his head. “You’ re the most unpredictable female I have ever met, Jax Cassidy.”

She leaned in closer to him and said, “I appreciate your chivalry, Marcus, but I haven’t survived as long as I have in this profession by being naïve. I can take care of myself when it comes to Lazarus.”

“He can turn you against your will.”

“Turn me into a
vampire
?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess you’ ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I cannot challenge my maker.”

Startled, she stared at him. First, because she’d never thought she’d hear him speak the word “can’ t.” Second, because he’d revealed something so personal. “So Lazarus created you? How? Why? When?”

Marcus shook his head.

Grrr. “What would happen if you killed him?”

“I would die as well.”

Jax sat back, confused. And disturbed. She’d known from the beginning that killing Marcus might be necessary. So why did the idea of him dying at Lazarus’s hands—dying at all—make her stomach curl? “A vampire can’t kill another vampire?”

“Yes, but one cannot destroy his maker without himself being destroyed. It’s our law. It cannot be undone.”

Jax nodded. “But if, say, by chance a mortal were to eliminate the colonel, you would survive?”

Marcus raised his brows and asked, “Is Colonel Lazarus on your hit list?”

She swallowed hard and laughed. “Hell, no, he’s going to make me rich. Why would I want to eliminate my bread and butter? Just call me curious. But if I had to protect myself from him, I would. Tell me how.”

“No mortal can hurt him.”

“I don’t believe it, there has to be a way for one of me to kill one of you.”

“As if I would tell you that,” he snorted.

“The sun doesn’t affect you?” She remembered the times they’d been together, when the rays of the rising sun had filtered through the windows and illuminated his dark beauty.

Marcus smiled and looked out at the pink horizon. “Early sun and late sun don’t affect me, but more than that . . .” He looked at her and cupped her face in his hand, smiling slightly. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you this. Any of this. You’d use it against me, just as you’d
use it against the colonel. Would you stake me out and fry me, Jax, if you could?”

“I wouldn’ t,” she whispered, knowing it was true, “but the colonel . . . how about the colonel?”

Marcus shrugged, dropping his hand. “He, too, can withstand the sun with protective measures.”

“So let me get this straight. You guys are supercharged. Can do all kinds of things we mortals can’ t, you drink blood to survive, and only go out at night.”

“Yes.”

“Do you stay with The Solution because you have to?”

“I stay with The Solution because I believe in what The Solution stands for.”

“But—”

He waved away her rebuttal. “In the last seven years, as a Solution operative, I have eliminated dozens of terrorists. Not the minions, but the chieftains. I have prevented two of our embassies in the Middle East from being destroyed, as well as the American School in Amman.” He looked hard at her. “Who do you think it was who tipped off the American military about Saddam Hussein’s whereabouts? I could have easily done the deed, but it was much more meaningful allowing it to play out the way it did. I work with and for The Solution because it is the only organization on this earth that understands and supports what I am and who I am, and it fights the good fight against those who would harm our country.”

He made it sound so romantic, so right. So noble. And to him it was all of those things. She understood. “What’s the flip side of all of that?”

Marcus stared out the window for a long time before he answered. “I cannot explain how lost I feel of late. How I—I long for my humanity, Jax.”

Compassion for this man overwhelmed her. She slid her hand across his. He grasped it.

“Is there a way to get it back?”

He shrugged, then turned to her. “Lazarus says there is. He’s promised it to me.”

Ah. That made sense. Explained why a man like Marcus would be working for someone like Lazarus. “In return for . . . ?”

Marcus smiled. “Things.”

“Can I help with these . . . things?”

He stared at her. “Why would you want to do that?”

“I think I’d really like you the way you were.”

“As opposed to not liking me the way I am?”

She thought about her answer. “I like you just fine. But I don’t like the uneven playing field.”

Marcus cracked a smile. “I can change that.”

Jax’s eyes widened at his implication, and she vehemently shook her head. “No. Never.”

Marcus’s face tightened. Still, as cool as it was having the super skill set Marcus’s blood provided, she could not imagine living life as he did, surviving on blood.

“I’m afraid then, Jax, there is nothing you can do to help me.”

Jax looked down at their entwined fingers. The urge to protect this man from what he was infused her with such ferocity that she felt the heat of tears. “Can’t you just walk away?” she softly asked.

He moved toward her and caught her lips in a soft kiss. “No,” he said against her lips, “not if I want to survive.”

“What if I told you no matter what, I wanted you to survive?” she asked him. She didn’t expect the surprised look he didn’t bother to conceal.

Then he smiled and brought her hand to his lips to brush a soft kiss across her knuckles. “You have given me back a piece of my humanity, Jax. For that I will be eternally thankful.”

She squeezed his hand and smiled back. “You are eternally welcome.”

Lazarus had not been at his lair for more than an hour before an insistent knock on his door disturbed him.

The whiff of female floral drifted beneath his nose. Sophia.

He’d been expecting her.

A jab of excitement pricked his belly. Sophia Rowland had managed somehow to wheedle herself into his waking thoughts. It had been centuries since he had been intrigued by a woman, and by such a scheming one, never. Perhaps, he mused as he strode slowly to the door, that was what he liked most about her. She was sly, with a steel-
trap mind, and she looked ahead for the greater good and was willing to make the hard sacrifices. She was also the key to his wildest dream. Control of the White House.

He smiled. Of course, the greater good for Sophia was herself. That too he understood.

He was feeling a bit festive after meeting the lovely Jax Cassidy. She had delivered vital information to him. Information the U.S. government would go to great lengths to possess. For that alone he’d become a fan and set some of his doubts about her aside. But Skarkov’s hand had sealed the deal. Most men he knew would not have had the forethought—or the stomach—to do such a thing. That she did set her apart. Yes, Jax Cassidy would
do very nicely for what he had in mind. His initial concerns about her working for the organization Rowland had hired were dispelled. But did that mean Lazarus trusted the woman? No. Never. He trusted no one. She would be watched closely. Very closely.

Marcus was wrong thinking she was associated with the organization Rowland had hired. She could not have done what she’d done last night and work for Rowland. He was too Goody Two-shoes. It was why he was having problems with him now. Marcus and his obvious infatuation with the woman surprised him. He’d have to watch them, but through Jax, Lazarus would have leverage on his number one operative. And if Marcus got out of hand? Then he would be more than happy to take his little toy away.

The knocks became louder, more insistent. Lazarus laughed low. So impatient she was.

He drew the door open with great flourish. “Good morning,” he purred.

Her cool blue eyes, so much like her son’ s, glared at him. She moved haughtily past him. He closed the door behind her and locked it. Then turned and pressed his back to it. He liked it when she was angry. He liked to rough her up. She liked it too. His blood warmed.

She spun around. “How dare you!” she hotly demanded.

Her fury was palpable. His excitement rose. She had never been so angry as she was now. Oh, how she would fight him. He pushed off the door and walked toward her. “How dare I
what
?”

“How dare you offer a contract on my daughter! She is
off
limits!” She slapped him across the face. Blood
shot to his groin. He grabbed her hard against his chest, twisting her hands in his fists. “Do not
ever
strike me again if you wish to live,” he threatened.

She yanked out of his grip only because he allowed her to.

Lazarus looked hard at her. “The contract was not up for grabs. It was given to a specific operator.” He smiled. “You might know him, you gave birth to him thirty-five years ago.”

“You are vile, Joseph. The vilest of vile!”

“That may be, darling, but you are a bitch. And you will never win mother of the year, for either of your children.”

Sophia paced the carpeted floor of Lazarus’s Oakland lair, rubbing her hands and throwing scorching glares his way. “It was not Marcus!”

Suddenly, his amusement and tolerance vanished. His suspicion spiked. A niggling of apprehension gnawed at his gut.