Dark Taste of Rapture (12 page)

He’d studied pictures. Each girl was pretty, very pretty, and his first thought had been sex slaves. He’d busted a few whorehouses throughout the years. Otherworlder females were promised lodgings on Earth,
a job, whatever. So they came here expecting to start a new life.

They started a new life, all right. In some rich guy’s bed. And that’s if they were lucky. The unlucky ones were placed in those whorehouses, forced to service countless men and women each and every day.

But again, why take these girls and not put them to work right away?

“We don’t,” Mia said. “We hadn’t gotten any other answers out of them. Not any we understood, anyway.”

Very well. “After I finish at the hospital, I’ll go over transcripts of what was said. Maybe I’ll pick up on something.”

“Sounds good.”

“And, uh, Mia.” Self-preservation rose. “I don’t want to go back to camp.”

“Why?”

“For personal reasons. And I swear to you, they’re good reasons. Important. Life-threatening even.”

A weary sigh. “I’ll give you some time off, no prob. You rarely ask. And okay, sure, miss your second week at camp. I’ll deal with Dallas’s whining, as always. Because yes, he will complain about the injustice of someone taking a break without him.”

Actually, Hector thought Dallas would be happy to have Noelle to himself, but whatever. He didn’t care. He—

Smelled melting plastic and realized his hand had heated to the point of deep-frying in mere seconds. Despite his sexual release. What the hell? He was so
jealous, so possessive, he immediately reacted to the thought of anyone else with Noelle?

He’d never had a woman, all to himself, and he—

Didn’t need to be thinking that way. Breathing in and out, Hector forced a surge of calm. “Thanks,” he said to hurry the conversation along. “I owe—”

“But you’re going back to camp for the final month,” she cut in, heartless as only she could be. “I value your opinion, and I need to know how the remaining trainees have progressed.”

He didn’t point out that Dallas could tell her. Or Jaxon. Or Ghost. Phoenix was the youngest and newest member of the team, so no one would care what she thought. “Okay. I’ll go back.” Maybe.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be thinking about Noelle every spare minute of every day. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be thinking about her at all. But even if he was, he now had a method for dealing, he reminded himself.

“Good,” Mia said. “Now get to work, Dean. Oh, and say hello to Noelle Tremain for me when you finally return to camp. I hear you guys are tight.” Her laughter echoed over the line.

“Fucking Dallas,” he muttered.

“Uh, no. Don’t blame him for your infamy. There’s a video of your KO, and it’s all over the web. At least thirty people have emailed me a link. Congratulations, you’re a star.”
Click
.

Wonderful. Worldwide humiliation. Exactly what he’d needed.

Hector tossed his phone on his nightstand and
padded to his bathroom, where he hopped in the shower. The dry enzyme misting from the overhead and side spouts caused the plastic he’d melted to dissolve quickly.

Six weeks, he thought. Then he and Noelle would once again cross paths.

He had a feeling only one of them would survive. He wondered just who that would be.

AIR Training Camp
Week Eight

H
E WAS BACK
.

Noelle hadn’t seen Hector since she’d laid him flat, oh, around six weeks ago.

Maybe she should have gone easier on him. Two little taps, though. Love taps, really, and he’d dropped as if he were the slowest gazelle in the pack and she the hungry lion who’d won rights to first bite. Then he’d collected himself, stood, and walked away without uttering a word.

In her defense, he’d kind of deserved it. Not just for the way he’d eyed her with such disgust the day they’d met—and had since admitted he’d been wrong about, she reminded herself—but because he’d knocked Johnny Deschanel on his ass and looked at Noelle, all
this is what’s going to happen to you if you stay here
.

Well, she had stayed—but he hadn’t.

She sat at the window cubby in the bunkhouse. Night had long since fallen, but the lamps surrounding the instructors’ quarters provided the perfect spotlight.
Hector had just driven up in a sleek black Porsche, emerged without looking around, and carried a bag up the steps, finally disappearing from view.

She had
not
watched the way his pants pulled tight against his perfect, muscled ass with every step. And she had
not
thought of him while he’d been gone. Not more than a few hundred times.

And she
really
hadn’t thought about the way he’d removed his T-shirt that day, revealing cord after cord of hard-won strength, tanned skin glistening with sweat, and a smattering of dark hair. Or how she’d gasped when she had first spied him, awed and aroused and aching to put her hands on him.

Something else she hadn’t thought about: how his right arm had sported fewer tattoos and how, just before he’d tugged on his gloves, those tattoos had shimmered, softly glowing like they had that night in the alley.

She hadn’t thought about why he glowed—optical illusion on her part? exposure to a toxic chemical on his? allergic reaction to alien cuisine? weird fluke of nature?—or how hot-off-the-streets sexy he was.

Yeah, uh, she really had to stop (not) thinking about him.

This attraction … she didn’t understand it, didn’t understand why his intensity fascinated her. Or why she’d missed him so damn badly. Or how he’d pepped her up while he was here. How he’d pushed and pushed and pushed, yet hadn’t sent her into a frenzy of self-destruction.

Maybe because he didn’t do it to malign her character.
He did it to make her a better agent, someone who saved lives and protected those who couldn’t protect themselves. He’d actually distracted her from her loneliness, making her forget all about that ever-gnawing void inside her. He’d given her purpose.

Or maybe the lack of sting was because he looked at her, really looked at her, as if she were a person worthy of his time and attention. And even though he’d shouted, he hadn’t called her names.

For that reason, she’d abandoned her revenge plans for him. So he’d kissed her and rejected her. Wasn’t a punch to that gorgeous mouth enough?

But again … why did she feel this way about him?

Sure, he was like no one she’d ever met before and he didn’t care about making nice. He treated everyone with the same sense of cold detachment—except Noelle. With her, he barked orders and assumed she’d just comply. When he didn’t get it, he physically forced the issue.

Sometimes he joked around with the other agents, and he was relaxed, casual. Yet still he radiated all kinds of ferocity, as if he couldn’t quite lower his guard all the way. With anyone.

What would it take to relax him absolutely? What would
he
be like that way?

She’d never know, she was sure. Because … oh, God … she was going to talk to him and at last douse the chemistry sparking between them. Or at least, on her end. One conversation, and she could finally stop (not) thinking about him. She just knew it. He’d snarl, of course, and she’d remember how grumpy he was.
He’d tell her he wasn’t interested, and she’d remember she wasn’t into proving herself.

She tiptoed to Ava’s bunk and sat at the edge of the mattress. “Ava,” she whispered. No lights were shining over the bunk, no moonlight washing over the bed, but Noelle had been awake for the past hour and her eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness. “You up?”

“No,” her friend whispered back, voice scratchy from slumber.

“Oh, good. Quick question. Let’s say, hypothetically, that I snuck out.” Walking over to the instructors’ cabin wasn’t a crime. For all they knew, she’d spotted something suspicious. But a girl never knew what the agents would decide to complain about.

Can’t get a third strike
. She did, and she doubted she’d be allowed to stay.

And now … now she really wanted to stay.

She finally understood what all the fuss was about. She was good at this.

Challenged. Intrigued. She thrived where others failed. And, if given a chance, she could make a difference in the world; she could save lives, destroy killers.

Having a goal was nice, and something she hadn’t known she’d needed. But every day she felt a little more centered, a little more driven.

“Would you cover for me?” she asked, already knowing the answer. “I don’t want any of the other trainees to know what I’m doing.”

A big yawn, a total body stretch. “Did you get slapped upside the head today?
Of course
I’ll cover for you.”

“You’re the best!”

“Do you need backup?”

“Nope.” She had to do this on her own. She eased to a stand, the stupid mattress creaking.

Ava sat up, satin curls falling all around her face. “So where are you going?”

She couldn’t lie to her friend. She wouldn’t. “To see Hector Dean. He just arrived. I want to … talk to him.” And a whole lot more, but she wouldn’t do more, even if he begged. Definitely.

Maybe.

“You going to kill him?” Ava asked.

“Nah. I’ve decided to play nice.”

Noelle had only been with two men. The first, a mistake in high school. The next day, the slimy bastard had told everyone at school how he’d popped her cherry. Within hours, she’d become a raging slut.

Of course, Ava had then popped his cherry red sports car into his parents’ living room wall. Noelle still got all weepy when she remembered.
Such
a heroic gesture. A gesture that had marked Ava’s very first arrest.

They’d celebrated by stealing
very
expensive champagne, and that had marked Noelle’s.

The second guy, Corban, she’d chosen more carefully. Or so she’d thought. Even though he was an otherworlder, he’d come from a wealthy background. And even though he’d come from a wealthy background, he’d proven himself to be a warrior at heart. He hadn’t chosen law enforcement or anything like that, but professional football.

They’d met at a cocktail party, and he’d come on strong. At first, he’d made her feel pretty. Special and accepted. When they began dating officially, however, that’s when the criticism had started.

A girlfriend of his would never
.… fill in the blank.

A girlfriend of his had to
… fill in the blank.

Men were complications. Men were hassles. And though Noelle wanted to open herself up and take a chance—in theory—she hadn’t yet.

Since the break-up, she had dated other guys. A lot of other guys. Always within the first hour, she found a thousand things wrong, and declined all invitations to go for a second round.

Strangely, she’d found a thousand things wrong with Hector, but she still wanted to see him. Again and again. Preferably naked.

“Noelle, you little hussy,” Ava whispered. “Are you still with me?”

She shook herself back into the present. “Now I am, my darling—wait, do you prefer
little person, vertically challenged
, or
pocket rocket
?”

A grinning Ava reached up and patted her cheek with a bit too much force.

“Ow,” she managed to quietly yelp.

“Oops, sorry. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength. Now as I was saying. After the way Hector stared at your twins that day, I’m gonna pretend I never uttered the word
dibs
, but only for tonight. ’Cause you know, the first taste is free.”

“So you’ve told me. This will be the second taste.”
If
anything happened. Which it wouldn’t.

Ava didn’t miss a beat. “The first and second tastes are free. You want a third, you’ll have to pay.”

“I never doubted it.” Noelle nibbled on her bottom lip. “If I’m not back by morning, send robo-cadaver dogs after my body. Hector’s killed
me
.”

“With pleasure?”

I wish
. No, no, she didn’t wish. They were going to chat, nothing more. “No, with a vengeance stick.”

“Otherwise known as a penis?”

She had to smother her laughter with both hands.

“By the way,” Ava said, “I’m rooting for you. Oh, and I have this strange feeling that you should check your phone for messages. See ya.” She lay back down, but Noelle knew the girl wouldn’t sleep. She’d listen and she’d wait, and if anyone woke up or came inside and noticed Noelle was missing, she’d take care of it.

Outside, Noelle jumped down the fire escape, landed in the dirt, the moonlit air cool as she pressed her back against the dilapidated bunkhouse wall. When no one sounded an alarm, she whipped out her phone. The new message? A photo of Noelle with her face scrunched up, about to sneeze.

Caption read:
Here’s a true screen savor 4 U
.

Little witch
, she thought with an inward laugh.

Storing her phone in her back pocket, she considered her options. The path from bunkhouse hell to instructor’s paradise would take fifteen seconds, give or take a few depending on her hustle, and was completely illuminated. No one was outside, but if an agent were to walk past one of the many windows, she’d be spotted instantly.