Chapter 24
Torkel pulled Jaron aside before they entered the meeting room. His brown eyes were somber as if he understood the gravity of what they were about to do. “I want to ask once more—you are certain of the details?”
Jaron nodded in a jerky motion, his stomach churning inside as it had been over the last two nights. “I am.”
“Fine.” Torkel exhaled on a harsh breath. “I know this was hard for you to do. It is the right decision.”
Torkel could say that. Probably believed it. He wasn’t the one risking a potential future with the female he wanted as his Chosen.
They entered the room together and all gazes turned in their direction. Jaron took an available seat between Khane and V’hor. Torkel went to the front of the room and made the announcement.
“We have a chance once more to get Arlo.”
Gazes hardened in retribution. Lothar was clear he had no love lost for the Jutak warriors or any other form of authority, but they had evidence of Arlo’s direct involvement in a vendetta against them. He went out of his way to direct attacks toward their particular Unit many times, going so far as to target their Chosens.
Torkel continued with all the pertinent information about the meeting Sasha had sent Jaron including time and location. Each detail gouged a new hole in his already cracked heart. He fisted his hands under the table unable to meet anyone’s stare. Sasha had been excited. She believed Jaron would be happy for her and wish her success.
Instead, he’d sent her commed transmission to Torkel. His Unit Leader paused his pacing and braced his hands on his hips, staring at the fifteen men gathered. “Thanks to Jaron’s intel, we know Arlo’s whereabouts for a small block of time today only. He’s taking lead on this and will go in alone until contact is made. Once we receive confirmation, Team One will go in and arrest Arlo.”
Jaron lifted his head on those last words to gaze around the table. Anticipation had them all on edge. At last, they might actually stop Arlo and create a break in Lothar’s slave ring. Next on their list of priorities would be Lothar’s son, Niko. Taking down the two principle players would disable a huge portion of the illegal business.
A few questions were tossed about and Torkel answered them. Jaron blocked it all, trying to get his head on the mission. It wasn’t easy. Chairs scraped back and noise filtered in. The meeting was over.
Torkel cornered Jaron before he could leave. He bit down on his annoyance. “Do not deviate from the plan, Jaron.”
“I know.”
“You understand Sasha F’Lan is not to be made aware of our presence or that we plan to apprehend Arlo prior to her claiming the Bounty?”
Gritting his teeth, Jaron gave the only answer he could. “Yes.”
“Remember,” Torkel added. “You are doing what needs to be done.”
Sasha would be hurt. There was no way to avoid it. But if they could get their hands on Arlo, he could lead them to Lothar. The Jutaks taking custody of the Marenian exceeded the need of one Bounty Retriever.
The justification sat like a tertian steel ball lodged in his gut. Jaron had only to imagine Sasha’s reaction to such a grave betrayal and felt ill.
***
The crowd at The Zone was at capacity, music blaring from overhead speakers. Dancers gyrated on the floor and clustered tables overflowed with customers of all ilks. If you wanted to stay under the radar and avoid the law while blowing credits on alcohol, The Zone was the place to go.
The rowdy bar was owned and run by an ex-soldier, who knew how to keep secrets and kept the customers under control for the most part. It wasn’t a place where Jaron would have usually gone, but he also knew of Hunter Gils’ history and military background. If things got out of order Hunter would make sure Jaron was able to leave undetected as a Jutak.
He spotted Sasha sitting at a lone table in the back, a square container with blue liquid frothing at the rim in front of her. She wore her hair slightly shorter than he remembered, the curls no less wild. Under the dimmed lights her skin held a bronze tone with a gold sheen.
Swaying with the beat of the music with her head tipped back to watch the dancers, allowed Jaron the chance to stare in hungry fascination. Her full lips a scarlet slash of red that thickened his cock in an instant. No female attracted him as Sasha did before and since. Jaron walked in her direction, his dark look warning off any who thought to approach him.
Sasha glanced up as he reached the table and her green eyes were as vivid as he recalled. She stood and patted his forearm. The touch seared despite the cloth of his shirt. “You made it, Jaron.”
Small talk could wait, the mission could wait. His need for Sasha couldn’t. Jaron grabbed her hand and tugged her around the table and toward the side door a few feet away. His palm slapped on the door which opened into a small cubby enclosure no more than four by four in space.
“Ja-ron!” Her chuckle mixed with his name.
Too far gone to be rational, Jaron’s mouth was on hers. He backed her against the wall, ripping her shirt from the waist of her pants until he touched skin. Sasha’s skin. Jaron groaned in her mouth and eased back, forehead falling to hers. “Sasha. My Sasha.”
Her hips rolled beneath him. “We need to get back out front. Arlo is due in—”
“An hour,” he finished for her, undoing the buttons of her top. “I only need fifteen minutes.”
Her snort blew air across his nose and Jaron found himself smiling even as he loosened her pants and slid his hand down to palm her mound. Sasha jerked. “You can’t be serious?”
She asked the question, but there was a tremble in her thighs not caused by denial. The dim light from the fixture above showed how her eyes flared at his suggestion. “Let me touch you. I need to touch you.”
She didn’t answer in words, but spread her legs wider. It was all the permission Jaron required. His fingers slid between her wet slit, rubbing at the tiny nub buried in the folds. Sasha gasped, undulated and gripped his shoulders tight. Jaron kept his gaze on her face as he worked her up fast.
He knew what she liked and how she liked it. Nothing had changed there. Moisture soaked his fingers as Jaron buried them deep, plunging them in and out to a rhythm matched by her bouncing hips. Each gasp caused her breasts to wobble in a way Jaron found hard to resist. So he didn’t.
He bent his head and sucked a dark nipple between his lips. Spicy, exotic, sweet. She tasted of all three and most important she tasted like home.
“Jaron, Jaron, Jaron.”
She chanted his name, meeting his fingers with her thrusting hips. Jaron switched to her left breast, nipping and sucking the puckered brown tip. Sasha screamed, her hands slapping the wall behind her.
Jaron held her with one hand at her waist, the other buried between her shaking legs until she stilled. He pulled his fingers free and licked each one while staring into her glazed eyes.
“I can’t believe you did that. Not even a greeting.”
Jaron smiled. “Hello, Sasha.”
***
Seated at the table with Jaron on the other side of the scarred wood and Sasha had yet to get herself under control. He’d rattled her, damn him. And knew it by the glint in his blue eyes. She’d been as responsible for what happened as he was. How had he managed to throw her off balance with little effort?
One look, one touch and Sasha melted like the kitten he called her.
“Is that your contact?”
Sasha jerked at Jaron’s question and shifted her gaze to the left. A woman with blue hair shaved on one side walked toward them leading another woman on a chain attached to a thick collar. The second woman drew stares as she made her way through the crowd. Bright pink wings arched over her shoulders, the fine filaments glowing under the flashing lights of The Zone.
“A Zurian? Sasha, do you—” Jaron stopped what he was about to say.
Sasha stood as the two reached them. Mitella nodded and handed over the leash. “As promised, Sasha.”
Nerves striking for some reason, Sasha accepted the leather length with its tertian steel links. She met the gaze of the Zurian and the woman winked a lavender colored eye. Breath eased out. “I’ve transferred the credits.”
“Good luck then.” Mitella spared Jaron a brief admiring glance and left.
“Bounty Retriever Sasha F’lan,” rasped a deep voice.
Jaron stiffened and hunched down in the seat. Sasha’s chest constricted. With feigned casualness, she looked behind her at the huge Marenian who joined their table.
Dark hair fell in a neat wave to his massive shoulders. Horns speared the black length, one twisted in a grotesque curve. The tanned skin of his face was leathered, the ugliness of his soul shining from his brown eyes. One thing couldn’t be denied. All Marenians were built on the large side and all of it was compact muscle. His brown shirt and black pants couldn’t hide his massive size. The material strained appearing on the verge of splitting.
“Arlo,” Sasha acknowledged him with a sneer.
The winged Zurian started a low hum, the vibration tickling Sasha’s skin.
Arlo’s gaze grew greedy as he eyed the fluttering pink wings. “You actually have a Zurian for me. At first, I thought this a trick of some sort. Curiosity led me here.” He stared at Sasha. “Your reputation proceeds you.”
Sasha’s fingers locked on the leash in her hand. No way she’d let him leave with the female. He was evil working for evil. “Do you have the credits?”
“How did you attain her?” Arlo asked instead, trailing his hand over the Zurian’s shoulder made bare by the cropped sheer blue gauzy top.
He must have used force or dug his nails in because her lavender eyes suddenly gleamed with tears. Sasha pushed her temper back and tugged on the leash, getting the woman out of his reach but placing herself way closer to Arlo instead.
Jaron grunted behind her. It didn’t matter how Jaron dressed or balled up in the booth. Anyone looking at him could tell he wasn’t a male to bother. Thankfully, he didn’t interfere and Arlo didn’t give him his attention.
“You don’t care about how you get merchandise. Do you have the credits?” Sasha dropped her voice to a menacing level and growled slow and long. The rumble built in intensity until Arlo arched a brow.
“Very well, Argoran. One million is the asking price.” He tapped on the black comm strapped to his thick wrist. “Done.”
Sasha’s comm vibrated against her wrist. She checked it as a stalling tactic while reaching for the customized stunner she’d upgraded to take down even a large Marenian. In her head, she ran through how it would all go down. Arlo was hers.
The front door of The Zone crashed open. Customers shouted in anger, some in annoyance. Four black clad men raced inside. “Jutak warriors! Jutak warriors!”
Behind the bar, Hunter roared for everyone to get out. The crowd became scarce as every criminal present darted for the closest exit.
“You traitor!”
Sasha had turned to watch the disturbance placing her back to Arlo. Amateur mistake. His hand clamped down on the back of her neck as he jerked her around. Sasha hissed, dropping the leash and releasing her claws. Jaron shot from his seat and crashed into Arlo, dislodging his hold.
They both fell to the floor, Arlo yelling as he struggled. Jaron restrained him in a display of strength that teased at her senses and brought back the vivid few moments in the dark closet.
The Jutaks hurried over and helped subdue a snarling Arlo, his eyes burning with hatred. Sasha ignored him to check on the Zurian who grinned and unsnapped the collar about her neck. Pink wings fluttered as she adjusted her top and smoothed a hand down the matching sheer skirt that bared her shaved mound.
“I’ll take my credits now, Bounty Retriever.”
Her voice tinkled with a bell like quality. There was a reason the rare race was hunted. Sasha snorted but transferred the agreed upon amount and watched as the woman walked out neither glancing left or right. Not even a name had been exchanged. Just her comm codes.
Sasha rubbed her hands together and faced Jaron’s friends. “Well, I appreciate the unnecessary assist. You can move back. I’ll take it from here.”
It wasn’t the money. Sasha didn’t need the credits, but she wanted Arlo tossed on a prison colony after she questioned him about any connection to Orland.
The Jutaks heaved Arlo to his feet between them. Their masked faces turned toward Jaron who waved them away. “I will take care of Sasha.”
Take care of Sasha? Then right in front of her, the four men led Arlo away. Unease crawled along her spine. She glanced from Jaron to his friends and back again. The silence of The Zone stretched the moment into an ugly warped piece of time. “Jaron, what’s going on? I need to take Arlo in to claim my bounty.”
“I cannot let you do that, Sasha. Jutak justice takes precedence.”
Sasha frowned as the sick feeling in her stomach spread. “What are you saying?”
“My Unit has been charged with tracking Arlo down. Your comm to me has saved lives.”