Alien-Under-Cover (4 page)

Julia jumped when she heard a sound behind her. The demon or the reverend’s thugs? She swung around and grabbed her pistol out of her pants, but the yard was still deserted.

She put the pistol back in the waistband of her black jeans, fisted her trembling hands together, and shuddered. If the reverend caught her snooping around his house, he wouldn’t play with her like the demon seemed to be doing. She glanced back in the direction of her house. Would it be so bad to go back and be safe? To leave Sarah’s rescue to law enforcement.

Julia clutched her head in her hands. She had to know if they kept Sarah here. If she left and remained safe, she would never stop blaming herself for anything that might happen to Sarah. With a sigh, she focused on the window again.

“Hold on, Sarah, I’m coming,” she whispered in a hopeless prayer.

Julia peeked over the windowsill. The wind blowing through the window parted the curtains just enough for her to see a desk and the very large man with long blond hair and broad shoulders sitting there. His head turned slightly. She ducked down quickly and took deep breaths.

It couldn’t be.

Her mind was playing tricks on her. There was no reason to suspect that John could’ve been sent to do business with the reverend. She rose to peek through the slit in the curtains again but dropped and whirled when something touched her hair.

Nothing but an empty yard.

It must have been the wind. God, she was getting paranoid. Maybe it wasn’t even him. Taking a deep breath, she glanced over the window sill again.

With his profile to her, he appeared like a large, muscled nightmare, fiddling with something silver that shined in his hands. When the white noise in her ears stopped, for a moment, all she could think to do was to pack her bags, to run. No, she didn’t need to pack her bags. She’d grab her TC and steal a car, or run on foot, or even crawl out of town. One, two, three--breathe in. One, two, three, four--breathe out. She had to stay calm. Breathing in again, counting, she inhaled and exhaled for a moment. And then she carefully peered over the windowsill again.

He dwarfed the chair he sat in. The steel base was slightly bent as if it would crack under his weight. It’d been five years, but there was no mistaking her family’s enforcer. What was he doing here?

He’d almost found her once before. Twice another enforcer had found her. Both times, she’d wondered if her father had sent them. Or if he’d told them what she’d seen.

She had to get away. He would kill her the moment he saw her. Shortly after she had left home, one of the family enforcers found her hiding in a grotto apartment in Chicago. She’d gotten away but he had fallen over a railing during their struggle. Then her family’s muscle had found her twice more. Both times, she’d barely escaped alive. She’d eluded them three times now, and her family didn’t even tolerate
one
failure. All the remaining enforcers would be very motivated to find her.

Did Denver collect a cut of the profits here? Or did they find out where she was hiding in this dusty little town.

Through the crack between the two curtains, she saw John lift his head and she knew it definitely was him sitting in the reverend’s opulent study. He rose to pace. Her heartbeat changed and kept pace with those heavy slow footsteps. She couldn’t breathe.

The reverend walked in.

“So, do we have an arrangement,” the reverend asked, swaggering over to the desk. Was the man blind? Couldn’t he somehow sense he was in the presence of a killer more dangerous than he could possibly fathom? Even with the evil the reverend did in this town, he had no idea of the level of danger John brought with him. She kept perfectly still, very much trapped, watching the reverend and a vicious mafioso.

“Yes, we have an arrangement.” John spoke with a different inflection than she remembered. The rhythm more clipped, frighteningly expressionless. Though he’s said only those few words, his voice was more compelling than she remembered.

“I have a large shipment and plenty of offers,” the reverend said, his voice breaking slightly. “If you’re interested, I need an answer today.”

Now she heard the fear and she smiled with grim satisfaction. The reverend had gotten into bed with the devil. He would learn it wouldn’t be a “wham-bam, thank you, reverend,” experience.

“That is why I am here. To ensure you do not accidentally lose some merchandise,” the big blond said with absolutely no emotion.

This was strange. By now, John should’ve beaten the reverend senseless simply for his tone of voice. John had never been the kind of enforcer who would tolerate insolence. And what was up with the stilted speech? And the expressionless face? She couldn’t remember ever seeing him without either a sneer or an expression of twisted fury.

“You talk funny,” another voice said.

Julia ducked down a little more. She hadn’t seen anyone else enter the room.

“I don’t care how he talks as long as he gives us a fair price.”

If he wasn’t careful, the reverend would find himself executed by panga, the preferred method of killing for the Denver Group. She snorted before she could stop herself and covered her nose and mouth with her hands. Denver Group, what a fancy word for a bunch of vicious criminals.

As a teenager, she’d loved to think of herself as a mafia princess--privileged and destined for big things. Reality had not been as glamorous as her dreams.

“Be ready to view the merchandise in an hour,” the reverend said with bravado.

She heard him walk out. Normally, he was oily smooth, hiding his evil nature behind a smarmy smile. He had reason to be unsettled by John, who showed absolutely no reaction to the swagger and aggressive talk. She’d seen John beat a man to death for daring to question him--slowly, for a very long time, enjoying his victim’s pain.

John sat back down with his back to her--looking down, presumably at the gadget in his hands. The quick glimpse she’d gotten of it earlier showed her only a slim silver disk she’d love to see up close. Her TC was the best she could afford without alerting the family, who knew of her passion for TC technology. Was John’s device connected to the TC network? What about the information capacity? Even from where she crouched, she could see it was unlike any other TC tablet available on the market.

She closed her eyes. If “merchandise” meant people, tonight John planned to buy innocent human beings as if they had no more value than cattle. Julia fisted her hands until her nails bit into her palms. She’d promised herself she would never be part of anything like that again. She didn’t want to be here. Was it too much to ask to be safe?

Her feet wouldn’t move--wouldn’t take her away from this terrible place.

She could go to Adam, the sheriff, but he wouldn’t do anything. To be fair, he was just one man surrounded by a corrupt town, but she knew he never even tried to protect the people of this town against the reverend and his cronies.

Someone should have done something about them a long time ago.

John got up and left so fast, she blinked in confusion. He used to move slow, almost lumbering. His strength and viciousness was what made him dangerous. His one good characteristic was his refusal to take drugs while his peers indulged. Julia remembered how proud her father was of that. He approved of John and wanted Julia to marry him. Could that have changed in the last five years? Did John take drugs now?

She shuddered and peeked again. He was gone, the room empty. Another handheld device lay on the table. What if it contained the information she needed? Sarah might be among the
merchandise
. Julia hesitated then climbed through the window. After a second’s deliberation, she decided to leave the window open. If she heard footsteps, she could dive through it and maybe have time to close it again behind her. She’d have a quick look and get out. Fast. Her heart hammered so hard she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to hear if anyone approached the study.

Wishing John had left his silver gadget, Julia accessed the black hand-sized tablet on the desk. The idiots didn’t even have passwords on it. The third folder was labeled sales and when she opened it, she saw Sarah’s name. At a soft sound outside in the hallway, Julia’s head jerked and she glanced frantically at the door. It remained quiet. Exhaling softly, she quickly scrolled down the transactions, desperate to hurry. John could be back anytime and she really didn’t want to be caught in here by that thug.

They had descriptions next, demands for certain types. A transaction for a small blonde with blue eyes was marked down three days ago. She had to read it a few times before she understood. A thousand credits paid to a Mrs. Johanna Blaine, stepmother to Sarah Blaine. Julia bent over the wastebasket and retched.

She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “That bitch! She--” She hastily cut off her words and stilled, ready to bolt. No heavy footsteps approached. She looked down at the entry in the tablet. This explained why the reverend would sell the daughter of one of his most devout followers. Sarah’s mother had wanted rid of her.

“How could she?” Julia fisted her hands, she’d confront that old witch if it was the last thing she did.

A breeze slithered through her hair and every nerve ending in her body came to life. The door opened. She looked up straight into the eyes of a nightmare. Something about the way he walked toward her tugged at her memory. Something important.

She stared into those familiar blue eyes and her life didn’t flash in front of her eyes. All the ways she would suffer before allowed to die did. Who would look for Sarah now?

“Hallo, Julia,” her family’s cruelest enforcer said.

Chapter 4

Her stomach curdled and every particle of blood in her veins froze. Her feet came unstuck, and she tried to move back. He grabbed her, held her against him. His large palm, warm and vaguely smelling of ground coffee beans, covered her mouth and nose. She screamed at her limbs to move, to struggle.

“No sound.” His breath tickled her ear, whispering in a mockery of a lover’s caress.

She stared up at him. Blue eyes as chilling as dry ice burned into her with searing cold. She’d been afraid most of her grown-up life. When she left her family, when she came to this town, when the demon appeared--but never had she felt this absolute terror, pushing out all rational thought. She dipped her head and her hair fell forward, shrouding her terror from those horrific eyes. If he didn’t want the reverend to know she was there, she was good with that plan. Maybe she could still get away from him. Lull him into thinking she would comply.

With her clasped firmly against his warm body, he lifted her off her feet when she stumbled. He rushed over to the window, moving so fast that, for a moment, the room became a blur. No more lumbering. Did that mean drugs?

“Why are we using the w--”

“Quiet.”

The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he lifted her effortlessly through the window. He’d always been big and muscled but now he seemed unnaturally strong. He’d also always repulsed her. Now, her body broke out in pleasurable goose bumps where he touched her and her hands almost enjoyed the sensation of his skin when she clutched his forearm. The stress of this day must have messed with her senses.

Her feet landed gently on the straggly grass and she immediately turned to get away from him as fast as her legs could carry her. She’d go far and fast and hide while he came through the window behind her. She’d barely turned to run when he jumped head first through the window with a speed that left her blinking. He rolled and landed on his feet, rose with fluid grace to tower over her. If she hadn’t been so frightened, she would’ve admired his graceful movements. Again something tugged at her memory.

“I’m not going back.” She held her hands up, palms out. This must be her day to confront demons.

The green demon with the pitch black eyes liked to play with her, enjoyed her attempts to kill him. The demon with cold blue eyes standing in front of her was truly evil.

Without answering, he took her arm and rushed in the direction of her house. Something strange about the way he moved tugged at her memory again but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She had bigger concerns. She had to find out where they kept Sarah before escaping from him.

“Did you sell my friend Sarah?”

“Quiet, human.”

She half-lifted a hand, opened her mouth to comment, closed it. Human?

“And where might you be going with Sister Julia?”

If she hadn’t had an encounter with the demon earlier and then with the nightmare from her past, she would’ve fainted, or broken out in a sweat, or maybe hyperventilated. But her body was all reacted out. She slowly turned and faced the reverend, vaguely aware of John doing the same.

She hated the way the reverend called her Sister Julia as if that made her part of his delusional flock and gave him some authority over her. She never came near him or his followers and had no excuse for being here.

She could pretend to have an assignation with John but the reverend would pounce on that as ungodly behavior.

She looked over at John who made grunting sounds low in his throat while he stared at the reverend. And she had the weirdest sensation he was having a conversation with some unknown person. Something tugged at her memory again, but the reverend moved and distracted her.

***

Zurian was about to kill the reverend and any of his men who even dared to look at his breeder when Zacar contacted him. He knew Zacar had a visual on them through the probes and Zurian had to resist showing him a palm without claws, a crude Zyrgin insult.

“Busy here.”

“The slaver carrying the message to the reverend is on his way there with many humans. Allow the reverend to take you and get the information,” Zacar ordered.

“If I allowed myself to be captured, I would appear weak to my breeder.”

“If you are captured together, you can protect her and she will be forced to depend on you. It will afford you time alone with your breeder as well.”

“I would still appear weak to her for allowing her to be captured.”