Chapter One
Rhykar charged down the shadow-filled alley and skidded to a stop behind a banged up garbage bin. How the hell had they found him? He pulled his weapon, confirmed it was set to pulse, and knelt on the damp pavement to wait. The bastards would come. They always did.
An amber light mounted on one brick wall revealed a male and female skulking down the narrow street, pistols in hand. Veiled in the gloom, the pair moved with precision, a team intent on one thing—his capture.
The woman spotted him, aimed, and fired. Rhykar jerked back an instant before the corner of the metal bin disintegrated, leaving a smoking hole the size of his fist behind. He stared at the destruction. Drek. Yeah, he’d broken a few laws, seized a number of sensitive files, but nothing that should have garnered this type of response.
He glanced at his gun and considered changing the setting from pulse to kill. He gritted his teeth. No, that would only make matters worse. Better to incapacitate them and disappear.
The sound of the woman’s quick footsteps, tapping over the wet pavement, met his ears, and he held his breath. Remaining crouched, he pressed against the wall of the bin and extended his shooting arm along the cool metal. She rounded the corner, but before she could draw down on him, he pulled the trigger, the deep thrum of the pulse reverberating through the air.
Whump.
The heavy sonic blast erupted from the business end of his pistol and rippled outward in a stocky, ropelike cylinder. The column of energy slammed home, striking the woman dead center. Her body jerked and lifted from the ground to fly backward and crash into the opposite brick wall. Her weapon flew from her grip as she slid to the pavement.
Rhykar knew, after having seen what happened to his partner, the male would be more cautious. The light overhead exploded, plunging the alley into murky shadows. A high-pitched whine threaded the air, and icy chills prickled his skin.
Bolting forward, he rolled and landed in a crouch next to the woman. Behind him, the trash bin imploded. Metal shrieked, twisting and crushing in on itself, the friction sending volleys of sparks raining through the area. Using the momentary brilliance, he located the hunter harbored in the dark veil of a doorway, taking aim with a nasty chunk of deadliness.
When a second high-pitched whine announced danger, Rhykar leapt. He splashed through a puddle just as the woman behind him shriveled into a tight ball, her arms and legs drawing into the mass, her bones cracking with the force until she popped in a sickening splat of liquid. Gods, this guy was hardcore.
Jerking his gaze from the horror, he raised his pistol and fired. The heavy thrum of the sonic blast vibrated through the alley, and the cylindrical core rippled through the air to strike the male in the chest. The impact hurtled the hunter backward, his head slamming against the heavy metal door behind him.
Sucking in a breath, Rhykar shoved to his feet. Too frickin’ close. Skirting the spray of carnage, he approached the hunter. He knelt next to him, noting something covered the guy’s face. He reached down and stripped the gear, coming up with a pair of high-tech goggles. Rifling the guy’s pockets, he discovered a folded paper.
Tires squealed at the end of the narrow passage. Streetlights on the main road revealed two men in dark suits emerging from a black sedan. The cleaning crew had arrived. Time to leave.
Tucking everything into his jacket, he crouched and hugged the shadows as he rushed toward the opposite end of the alleyway. Ten minutes from now, no evidence of the altercation would remain. The cleaners would dispose of everything, and rumor had it, if they’d gotten hold of him, they would’ve eliminated his existence as well.
Heading toward a more populated street, he hurried along the sidewalk amid a variety of pedestrians. As he walked, he scanned the crowd in a vigilant search for any other hunters who might’ve tracked him. Glancing up, he caught sight of a neon sign, luminous in a large window. He peered over his shoulder, checking one last time to ensure he hadn’t been followed, and veered across the street, dodging traffic as he headed toward Reno Joe’s coffee shop.
He pushed the door open, a bell jangling overhead. Striding through the bright establishment, he took a booth and sat facing the entrance.
“What can I get you?”
He glanced up at the dark-haired, middle-aged waitress. “Coffee. Black.”
She nodded. “We got pie, too. Cherry. Strawberry-rhubarb.”
“Sure. Cherry.”
She scurried off to get his order, and Rhykar looked out the window, scrutinizing the people walking by and half expecting the dark suits to arrive in their sedan. He rubbed his brow. The alley was probably spotless by now, but that didn’t mean more hunters wouldn’t track him down.
The waitress returned, setting a mug of coffee and a huge slab of pastry in front of him. “Anything else?”
“No. Thanks.”
She stood there staring at him, so he picked up the fork and took a healthy bite.
Chewing, he peered up at her. “Good,” he mumbled.
Appearing satisfied, she wandered off to help another customer. He downed a second forkful, not because the dessert tasted delicious, but because it had been a while since his last meal. That, and for some reason, almost getting his head blown off had caused him to appreciate the fact that he was sitting there, stuffing his mouth with cherry pie.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the goggles. Clear eyepieces, aluminum rims with a line of flush buttons, and a wide, pliable band to hold the gadget secure to the wearer’s head. Rhykar sipped his steaming coffee before slipping them on, the view through the lenses unfiltered. Reaching up, he tapped one of the buttons on the rim, and the image shifted into X-ray mode. He scanned the room, his attention drawn to a woman standing at the counter. She had a stocky pistol tucked under her jacket, along with a communication device and a set of metal handcuffs. Off-duty cop.
He pressed the second button on the rim and jolted at the flash of bright light that followed. Blinking, his vision cleared, and the room appeared normal. But when he looked out the window, he saw highly detailed images of all the pedestrians passing by. Night vision. Well, that explained how the hunter had found him so easily.
He activated the next button and the image shifted into heat sensor mode. The patrons in the coffee shop glowed bright reddish-orange while the metal chairs were green or yellow, the floor blue. Thermal, infrared vision. Logical addition.
He touched the last button, but the image didn’t seem to shift. Rhykar squinted and wondered if perhaps the sonic blast had damaged the goggles. But then he spotted the extra people in his view and realized it was the cook and workers in the kitchen. He peered out the window and spied the patrons drinking inside the bar across the street.
“Reheat your coffee?”
He jerked around, ripping the goggles from his head. The waitress stared down at him, steaming pot in her hand.
“Uh, sure.”
She topped off his mug and moved to the next table.
Jamming the tech back in his jacket pocket, he pulled out the folded paper. He glanced toward the waitress to ensure she was occupied and then laid it out on the table. The blood in his veins ran cold.
Wanted: Dead or Alive scrolled across the top of the opti-tech sheet, an unflattering picture of his head and shoulders rotated below, and his stats were listed off to the side. At the bottom, his full name and a flashing line declaring him armed and dangerous. Extreme prejudice, deadly force, and a host of other suggestions on how to apprehend him scrolled across the bottom.
There was a frickin’ bounty out on him. Oh, he’d had a price on his head before and had always managed to elude the hunters. But this?
He stuffed the paper back into his pocket. Hunching over the table, he ran a hand through his hair. Drek. He needed help with this, and instinct said he should call the best hunter in the business, the only one who’d ever come close to catching him. But after their last encounter, she might well shoot him on sight.
“Girl troubles?”
Rhykar lifted his gaze to the waitress, who stood next to his table again. “Pardon?”
“Aw, I can spot a jilted man a mile away.”
“No, it’s not what you—”
She waved her hand. “It’s okay. My brother went through something similar. Then he headed down to Vegas to one those fancy hotels and came back a changed man.” She grinned. “Got married two weeks later.”
He grabbed his coffee took a gulp.
“If you’re looking for true love, well, Vegas is where you need to go. I never thought my brother would find a woman who could stand his ugly mug.” She barked a hoarse laugh. “But he did. That Madame Evangeline works magic, I tell you.”
“That’s very nice for him.” He set his mug on the table.
“Oh, it was supposed to be just one night of passion and all, but it turned into so much more.” She eyed him. “And I know what you’re thinking. Some tawdry hookup in a cheap motel?” She shook her head and laid her hand on his shoulder, gave him a light squeeze. “Nothing could be further from the truth. My brother showed me pictures. The hotel is like a palace with fountains and statues and lots of plants. Gorgeous.”
He grunted and took another swallow of coffee.
“Madame Eve sure came through for him. So who knows? Might work for you, too. And the whole thing is on the up and up. You know? Completely private, secure.”
Rhykar looked up from his coffee. “Private and secure?”
“Oh, yes. You sign up online. No one else is the wiser.”
He nodded, a plan forming in his mind. “And the service provider’s name is Madame Eve?”