Last Kiss Goodnight - By Gena Showalter Page 0,126
the Targon and the blonde are with me.”
“Kitten?” a male voice growled.
“Dallas?”
A handsome dark-haired man with otherworldly blue eyes that reminded Vika of Solo—a sharp pang in her chest—shoved his way forward. Kitten caught sight of him, squealed, and threw herself in his arms.
He hugged her, but he never lowered the barrel of his pyre-gun.
Pyre. Something only AIR agents carried. And Kitten had said she was an agent, hadn’t she. And yet, Jecis had enslaved her. Well, he had signed his death certificate the moment he’d done so. If Audra hadn’t shot him, AIR would have eventually found him. Everyone knew they never gave up.
“What are you doing here?” Kitten demanded. “This isn’t New Chicago . . . I don’t think. Unless we’re in a contaminated section I’ve never visited.”
“No. Not New Chicago,” the blue-eyed agent said. “Word got out that a certain circus had a Teran in a cage. We hoped it was you, but didn’t really think it was. Still, we kept out feelers, and the moment we heard the circus had landed in the flatlands last night, I hopped a plane.”
Oh yes. Jecis’s downfall would have happened one way or another.
“A family reunion. How sweet.” The Targon chuckled, and in the next moment, the entire world stilled. The flames stopped crackling, the smoke stopped wafting. “Come on, little Vika. I told your man I would take care of you. Vowed it, in fact.”
How like Solo. “What did you demand from him in return?” She doubted the creature had been willing to help out of the goodness of his heart. Daddy Spanky wasn’t the type.
He tugged her to her feet. “Doesn’t matter. I didn’t really want what he was offering, just wanted to see how much he was willing to give up. By the way, he was willing to give up everything for you.”
Just like that, tears burned the backs of her eyes. She blinked them away—they were silly. X would bring him back, Solo would insist on it, if Solo wasn’t at the farm already, and she would have the opportunity to say thank you, to tell him of her love.
“Now, come on. I’m weak, and I know that’s not saying much. My weakness is actually the strength of ten men, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold such a big group of people with the magnificent power of my mind. If we stay, they’ll question us. If they question us, they might decide to keep you. I don’t relish the thought of springing you from prison.”
“Yes. Let’s leave.”
They wound around the now-blackened tents, darted around the frozen bodies, the flickering fires, the wafts of smoke. “In case you’re wondering, I’m going to do you another solid,” the Targon said. “I’m going to take you anywhere you want to go. Anywhere in the world. I can’t open solar flares like your father, but I can drive and I can keep the cops off your tail. I doubt you’ll receive a better offer.”
“The farm,” she rushed out. “I want to go to Solo’s farm.” She rattled off the address Solo had forced her to memorize.
“That’s a few states away. If I buy a car, give you time to clean up and rest, I can have you there in three days. If I steal a police cruiser, I can have you there in two. If you ask me to drive all night, I can have you there in one.”
“Steal and drive all night,” she said. “You can mail the local PD a check.”
“Thought you’d say that,” he grumbled.
• • •
“There it is,” he said. The Targon stopped the car, put it in park, and emerged.
Vika opened the passenger door, warm air bathing her, amazingly fresh and clean, layered with scents she remembered from long ago. Animals. Fur, hay, pine.
The sun beat down on a white, two-story house, a picket fence around it. Beyond that, mountains formed the perfect backdrop. Trees stretched in every direction.
Her knees nearly buckled, but she managed to race forward, calling, “Solo! Solo!”
An older man with silver hair stepped out from behind the house. He wore dirt-stained gloves. “Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked.
“I’m looking for Solo.” She pounded up the porch steps, heart galloping in her chest. The front door was unlocked and she soared inside, leaving the Targon to handle the human. A lovely little living room greeted her.
A soft leather couch. A well-worn love seat. An oblong coffee table, with books scattered across. An unlit fireplace, a plain but