Perfect Strangers Page 3

  Damn.

  Davis swallowed. It didn’t matter that the money she crushed under her perfect rear would probably prove to be the evidence he would need to rejuvenate his career. He got no pleasure from the knowledge that he’d be the one responsible for covering those long strong limbs with a straight jacket.

  “Now I have told you everything.”

  Her voice was throaty, colored by the emotion of her story, a story she obviously believed with all her heart. The pain in her eyes caused a groan to push past his lips. It was a frustrated sound full of impatience.

  “No, not everything, but enough.”

  The cuffs were out and over one surprisingly delicate wrist before she knew what was happening. He wasn’t all that surprised when the other hand proved more elusive.

  A hard open-fisted whack sent him backward, but he managed to hold onto his precarious position over her on the bed. That showed itself for the mistake it was when both of her feet came up between them to force him up and over her head. His head cracked against the headboard, and for a crazed moment he thought of much more pleasant ways he’d like to wrestle in Silk’s bed.

  He didn’t have long to lose himself in the fantasy because he wanted to live to see tomorrow. Throwing himself sideways, he slid off the bed and onto the floor, bringing Silk with him in a heap of determined aggression. It was like being chained to a tiger in a Roman arena. Instead of claws and fangs, he faced blows that felt like they came from a prize fighter.

  It was a bar brawl. It was no holds barred. It was winner take all. And damned if he didn’t want to call a truce and kiss her senseless from the very first punch.

  “You are not fighting as you did last night.”

  The complaint came in a gasp from above him as Davis found himself pinned beneath her in a hold he had never encountered because he’d never battled a contortionist from Cirque du Soleil.

  “Bullshit.”

  “You are holding back because I am a woman. A very Earth-based view. What if I was a vicious criminal? You would be dead.”

  Damn it. She was right. He was holding back. Not because she was a woman. But because she was this particular woman who had somehow managed to get under his skin in less than twenty-four hours.

  “You’re not going to kill me,” he choked out as her “delicate” wrists managed to support hands that felt like a steel vise around his larynx.

  “But you would send me to certain doom with your archaic restraining device.” She jangled the handcuffs in the air.

  “Doom?” He hadn’t figured her for melodrama. Psychotic maybe, but not melodramatic.

  “If I am unable to defend myself, if the IL-Bah come upon me bound and helpless, they will kill me.”

  There she sat, pinning him down like some sort of Norse goddess and she was worried about being helpless?

  “Silk, what are you really afraid of?”

  The idea occurred to him that her delusion might be based on a reality represented by the cash. She was obviously involved in some serious shit. Fear must have pushed her over the edge. He found himself teetering there while he tried to imagine what would scare a woman like her.

  A bullet interrupted his impromptu psychoanalysis. It tore into the wall above Silk’s head with a deadly, sickening thwack. Plaster erupted in a puffy cloud and rained down straight into his eyes.

  Horror filled him as he felt Silk collapse in a heap on top of him. He couldn’t see, but he knew which direction the shot had come from. He pushed back with his heels, sliding on his back in the opposite direction. Motionless, Silk came along for the ride.

  He thought she was hit. He hoped she had fainted. He never imagined she would snag a lamp by the cord as they scooted past and whip it with deadly accuracy into the nearest attacker’s face.

  It was all a stinging blur to Davis, but he saw the movement, heard the pop as the light bulb exploded on impact and felt the floor vibrate as the man fell.

  She was okay.

  Better than okay.

  She was incredible.

  For Silk, the adrenaline flowed and she acted. With one IL-Bah temporarily slowed, they only had two to deal with.

  She and Rule would surely die.

  Rule’s face was powdered with a white substance from the damaged wall. He squinted and blinked and she knew he was not operating with full sight.

  Had they faced normal adversaries, she would have been glad to have even an incapacitated Davis Rule at her side. She had seen enough to know he would be a strong partner. Unfortunately, IL-Bah were far from normal. They were genetically enhanced just as she had been, but where she had been made faster and stronger and smarter in order to be the perfect Justice Representative, they had been turned into killing machines made of flesh and bone.

  Another bullet snapped by, missing her cheek by millimeters as she rose. She didn’t have time to be thankful that the IL-Bah were using Earth weapons without target-locking technology. If she was to die, she would not die without IL-Bah blood on her hands.

  Davis was already slamming into the man framed in the bedroom’s doorway. No doubt he was counting on shadows and outlines to guide him. She relished the look of surprise in the IL-Bah’s silvery eyes. He hadn’t expected resistance. His weapon flew from his hand and skidded across the floor.

  Even without it, he would be able to crush Rule’s skull if given the time to get a good hold.

  Silk didn’t have time to worry about it. She had another IL-Bah to deal with and he was pointing a newly drawn gun in her direction. His hand looked steady and his aim might prove better than his companion’s.

  With a mighty heave, she lifted the giant pad and its support frame off the bed in front of her. The two giant rectangles of fabric, springs and wood fell forward onto the IL-Bah. She heard the whump as a thwarted projectile became imbedded in layers of foam.

  She was already moving to engage the IL-Bah recovering from her lamp-strike when a hand griped her arm and jerked her out the bedroom door.

  “Time to go, terminator.”

  Silk was hot with adrenaline. Ready to fight. She resisted as Rule pulled her down the dark hallway.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m operating blind here. And those guys mean business.”

  As if to illustrate his point, Rule practically fell down the stairs, dragging her and a half-open suitcase spilling crumpled hundred dollar bills after him.

  She knew it was insane, but she wanted to stay and face the IL-Bah. Needed to.

  “I am tired of hiding.”

  “We’re not hiding. We’re running.”

  She could hear the IL-Bah on the stairway behind them as Davis pulled her out the back door. He must have an impeccable memory. He managed to lead their way out of the house with only one minor crash into the side of the kitchen table.

  “Lose the battle, win the war. Live to fight another day. Cut your losses. Come with me if you want to live. Any of that ring a bell?”

  She couldn’t answer. He was shoving her into the car. Apparently, he could see a little better outside because he rounded the vehicle and jumped inside with only a single trip slowing him down. He pushed the case behind them, spilling more money out onto the seat. She didn’t know how he’d managed to scoop any of it up while the IL-Bah were attacking.

  One rear window exploded as they pulled out of the driveway.

  Alive.

  “Have you no pride? We should have fought.” She was furious. It pounded at the back of her head and she ground her teeth against it. She didn’t know if her anger came more from leaving the fight before she was ready or from her disappointment at Rule’s cowardice. JR? Enforcer? At this moment, he seemed more like a Ti-viin sheep herder.

  “We were facing three men with silencer-equipped 9mm and I couldn’t even see to use my own weapon.” Rule wiped his hand across his eyes, weaving erratically as he tried to see the road. “The guy I tackled was made like a brick wall. I was lucky to take him down long enough to grab you and make a break for i
t. And you’re gonna complain because you’re alive?”

  “JRs do not ‘make a break for it’.”

  “No? Then what are you doing on Earth? Supposing I believe your crazy story. I’d say that’s one major break.”

  Silk felt warmth in her cheeks. He was right. It mattered not that her run had been forced by a justice system she had sworn to obey. To Rule, it must look like running. Hiding even, like a stag from a pack of starving carnivores.

  “I had no choice.” Surely he operated within a chain of command.

  “Neither did I.”

  Rule glanced her way. His eyes were bloodshot. His expression grim.

  “We almost bought the farm back there and I don’t even know why.”

  An alien from another dimension.

  She was sticking with the lie. He didn’t know if that made him angry with her or sorry for her. They had driven for an hour until they came to tiny motor inn so convenient to the road that the sound of passing cars competed with the rumble of the ancient air-conditioning unit.

  He hadn’t called for backup.

  She was sitting on the edge of a hotel bed wrapped in a towel instead of sitting in a padded room wrapped in a straight jacket. He must have spent too many months dealing with imbalanced, delusional people. He had gone worse than soft. He was neglecting his duty.

  “I will have to take you in, Silk. Eventually. You need help.”

  Even as he said it, he couldn’t really imagine her locked up in some nut ward.

  “You cannot help me.”

  She was a contradiction. A living contradiction. She was obviously in it deep, up to her pretty ears, and her only reaction was steel fury.

  “You must understand that a JR is bred for the job. We are matched with our partners as infants. We grow together. Train together. Think together. Now Miilos is dead and I have to handle the aftermath alone.”

  A feeling stabbed his gut when she mentioned her supposed partner’s name. Envy. He recognized it, but couldn’t credit it. She was beautiful, unusual and strong. Perfect from her head to her toes. Hell, his ribs would never be the same. But he couldn’t feel envy for a man whose existence he didn’t accept. He couldn’t feel a sense of propriety toward an insane—possibly criminal—stranger. Not unless he was on his way toward insanity too.

  “So, those men who tried to kill us. They killed this Me-lows guy and now they want to kill you.”

  “Ronin killed Miilos. Those men we just saw are IL-Bah. They belong to Ronin. He wants me dead because he knows as long as I am alive, his life is in danger.”

  “Saw. Well, I can’t say that I actually saw them. My eyes were out of commission at that point. Remember?”

  “If you could have seen their eyes you would know I speak the truth.”

  “Right. Silver. You mentioned that.”

  He didn’t believe her. She knew now that she had been foolish to try truth, but she did not think she would need to kill him. She need not worry about her true identity being revealed. He was blind even when his eyes were clean.

  “If you could just sprout an antenna or two. Maybe flick open your communicator and talk to the mother ship.”

  Sarcasm. She recognized it. Was surprised to feel his mockery prick a nerve. She was a decorated Justice Representative, reduced to this.

  “There is no mother ship. I am alone.” She had lost Miilos, but she would not shrivel and die. She would not become a useless shadow of her former self like so many other Representatives who had lost their partners.

  “So, you’re saying you can’t send out some sort of S.O.S to the high command and they’ll come beam you up?”

  He was unfastening his shirt as he spoke. Silk tried not to become distracted by the intimacy of their situation. He thought she was insane. He was mocking her and discounting her every word. He was also not informing his superiors. Why not?

  She couldn’t decide. Perhaps he couldn’t either. That thought was quickly overshadowed by another. She had felt the firmness of his chest before, but seeing it bare for the first time made her mouth go dry. It had been a long time and she couldn’t help admiring the muscled ridges his loosened shirt revealed. That he had achieved such a level of perfection and fitness with no genetic manipulation was…intriguing.

  She rose to turn and comb out the wet tangles in her hair. In the mirror, she saw him cross to the bathing room. Their gazes met. Even the cool glass couldn’t take away from the probing nature of those stormy eyes. He tried to see into her soul. She shuttered it, tamped it down and closed it off tight.

  “I’m not arresting you right now, but I do know it’s not because of this…” He motioned his hands between them, indicating the flow of electricity that was obviously mutual. “When I decide the right course of action, I won’t be influenced by a pretty face.”

  “And I won’t try and influence you. Not in that way.”

  “Then we understand each other.”

  The door closed with a snap and Silk listened as the water began to flow.

  “No, Davis Rule. I do not think we understand each other at all.”

  William Kale couldn’t be trusted.

  As Davis soaped plaster dust out of his hair, he knew his superior would take the case out of his hands and give it to one of his automatons—one of those junior officers who thought Kale was a god in a three-piece suit.

  Davis didn’t relish the idea of going back to investigating saucer sightings in Kansas. Surprisingly, that wasn’t his only reason for keeping quiet until he learned more. He wanted to revitalize his career, true. But he also cringed at the idea of turning someone like Silk over to William Kale. The guy was crooked. He knew it. Silk needed help, but Kale would be the last person she could count on to provide it.

  Davis allowed hot water to wash suds down his body to puddle in a gurgling mass of white at his feet.

  He would bide his time and try to learn the truth on his own. Then he would turn her in. If he could re-establish his credibility, then William Kale wouldn’t be a threat. Not to his career or to Silk’s well-being. And maybe, just maybe, he could reclaim the life that had been stolen from him when William Kale had gone bad.

  Silk slipped back into the only clothing she had. She ignored the desire for clean sleeping garments. She ignored the lumpy padding beneath scratchy linen sheets. Her body required rest.

  Davis thought she was in his custody.

  The thought was equal parts amusing and annoying. Still, it was good to have a temporary reprieve while he decided on a course of action. Her course was clear. She needed to find Ronin as soon as possible, before his assassins succeeded in their mission. The fiend had a whole universe, but he knew she was here and Ronin was a hands-on kind of guy.

  An image of Miilos blazed through her brain. His face had been burned black beyond recognition by close-range fire from the weapon in Ronin’s hand.

  Hands-on.

  Silk grimaced as one tear slipped free to slide down her cheek. She willed it to dry and refused to allow others to follow. Even the cloak of darkness did not encourage her to indulge in such a weakness.

  After the sleep her body required, she would deal with Rule. Then she would deal with Ronin.

  Her hands clenched the blanket over her chest. After all, she had been trained to be a hands-on kind of girl.

  Chapter Four

  It was easy to part ways with Davis Rule. She did not want to hurt him, but she had learned long ago not to let her wants dictate her actions.

  It was eight p.m. when she rose from a two-hour sleep refreshed and ready. Rule had just entered the room with a brown bag in his hands. Without speaking, he began to set out cans of soda and sandwiches on a nearby table. Silk approached him casually. He did not turn from his task. She timed the blow carefully, waited for him to move just so, and struck with precision.

  The big man slumped to the floor as if his bones had suddenly decided to dissolve beneath his skin. He made an attractive heap, but Silk didn’t waste time admiring
the subject of her handy work. She had been lying low, gathering information, waiting to act. Now the time was upon her. And it felt good.

  Miilos had been the investigator. She had always chafed during those times when inaction was required.

  Moving to the closet, she pulled out her case. It wouldn’t be necessary to take it all. The funds seemed important to Davis and she didn’t want to leave him completely empty handed. A few bundles should suffice for her needs and she could carry them in her pockets until she made other arrangements.

  She needed supplies and she couldn’t go back. The IL-Bah negated that option. The equipment she had carefully gathered over the last month was lost. All of it would be left to gather greasy dust in a locker behind the storage room at Buzz’s. She would have to start from scratch.

  So Silk went shopping.

  Some things, this backwards dimension had gotten right. Shopping malls for instance. These centralized locations were packed with everything a person might need for any given situation. Including the hunt for one evil man.

  Of course, Silk could kill with cutlery, but she preferred more efficient methods.

  As she traversed the length of the mall, she made several quick stops. She purchased jeans, sweaters and undergarments and took the time to pack them into a small bag she could wear on her back.

  She picked the bag with care. It rode high on her shoulder blades with one small exterior pocket that was perfect for her needs. The bag would serve as a holster for her next purchase.

  Attached to the mall by a tree-lined walkway, a large store with a sign that read sporting goods attracted Silk. Though she couldn’t imagine what “sport” was played with them, she was pleased to see the familiar shape of projectile weapons through the windows.