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Mira couldn't speak. Could only look at Candice and listen, reliving the private hell of the night she'd lost Kellan and his new life began.
"I figured he'd tell me his name one day, but he never did. Eventually I stopped looking for those answers." Candice brought her hand out from under the coverlet and laid it over the top of Mira's. "It didn't take long before I learned all I needed to know about the Breed male named Bowman who chose to live among humans instead of his own kind. I saw for myself that he was honorable. Not long after he was recovered, he learned there was a rebel faction looking to sell a group of young women into prostitution. The deal had already been struck with some bad men from overseas, but on the night the rebels were to make the trade, Bowman stepped in to derail the exchange and free those girls single-handed."
Mira was hardly surprised to hear it, having seen Kellan in action when they were part of the same unit for the Order. He was a fierce warrior, afraid of nothing when it came to combat and protecting those who couldn't do for themselves. Apparently those qualities had followed him into this other part of his life too, in spite of the fact he now straddled a threadbare moral line.
Candice went on. "I saw from the start that he was courageous and just. But he was also scarred somewhere deep inside. He was alone and kept himself isolated by choice. I knew he belonged to someone else. I just didn't know who, until I saw the way he looked at you when we brought you back with us to the base that day.">Yeah, that was definitely going on the immediate agenda. Vince's first act, and a prime way to announce he's the new man in charge.
As he closed his eyes and ruminated on the pending birth of his rebel empire, the low rumble of an approaching, unmistakably expensive vehicle drew his chin back down to his chest. Vince raised his arm to visor his eyes, squinting as the sleek black sedan eased to a stop and a man in a dark suit and shades climbed out of the passenger-side door. With the micro-size comm unit clinging to his ear and his buzz-cut salt-and-pepper hair, the guy had a distinct government vibe about him, but the pricey wheels screamed private enterprise. Extremely lucrative private enterprise.
Imagining what he might look like prowling around town in a ride like that, Vince mentally upped his price tag on Ackmeyer.
The guy in the impeccable suit strode from the empty parking lot across the grass toward the picnic table. "Mr. Sunshine?"
Vince smiled, amused by the fitting alias he chose for this transaction. "That's me. And you are?"
"Why don't you come have a seat in the car? We can talk more comfortably inside."
It wasn't an answer. Hell, it wasn't even friendly. Sounded more like a command than the kind of respect Vince felt he was due. He didn't appreciate the superior attitude, and he wasn't stupid enough to get into a vehicle with someone he didn't know from Adam. No matter how much money was on the line.
"I'm enjoying the nice weather," he said, dropping his arm to his side and wishing he'd thought to bring sunglasses with him to this meeting too. Instead, he was forced to squint through the harsh daylight. He tried to work it in his favor, sneering in the hopes of looking more badass. "Listen, I'm a busy man. I got several interested parties for what I'm offering here today, so let's get down to business."
"Of course," replied the suit. "Where is the package?"
Vince chuckled. "Somewhere safe."
He also wasn't stupid enough to have Ackmeyer on-site until a firm deal was in hand. Vince had his hostage stowed and secured in the van, which was parked about a mile down the road, in another part of the conservation area. Once he had cash in hand, Vince would turn over his goods, but not a second before.
The guy in the suit didn't seem to understand the concept. "Until I can assure my employer that you will deliver what you promise, we have nothing to negotiate."
"Your employer?" Vince echoed, not a little put out to hear this. "I thought I'd be speaking to the man in charge, not some lackey."
"Do you intend to produce the package or not?" asked the suit, unfazed but unyielding.
"Hell no, I don't!" Vince vaulted off the picnic table, agitation vibrating through him. "You're wasting my time, man. I got four - no, five! - other potentials I could be talking to right now, every one of them ready, willing, and able to pony up serious cash." A bluff, but anger was making him cocky. He started pacing a tight track in front of the sharp-dressed gofer. "I'm in a situation where I want to get this done pronto, so tell you what. I'm willing to make a quick deal with you - or, rather, your employer. Ten million cash. Right here and now, no games, or I fucking walk."
The guy didn't say a word. Vince wasn't even sure he was listening. He watched as the guy lifted his hand to the comm device in his ear. "Status," he murmured, more of an order than an inquiry. A second later he grunted, said, "Excellent," then lowered his hand and continued to stare past Vince as if he were invisible.
"Well?" Vince demanded, impatient as hell and quickly getting beyond pissed at the lack of respect. "What's it gonna be? Make me wait another second for your answer, and my price doub - "
A sudden engine roar and screech of tires in the parking lot cut Vince off mid-threat. Not the throaty purr of another sweet sedan but the rusty bellow and knock of a vehicle he knew well. The same vehicle he'd stashed in what he assumed to be a safe place in another part of the park.
The van that contained Jeremy Ackmeyer, Vince's future fortune.
Some other goon in a dark suit was seated behind the wheel. The guy standing in front of Vince in the grass gave the driver a brief nod.
"What the fuck!" Vince shouted. "What the fuck is this?"
How the hell had this gone so wrong, so fast?
He didn't have time to guess. When he swung his head back around to look at the guy in the suit next to him, the nose of a black 9-mm pistol was leveled dead center on his face.
Now the suit finally managed to show some interest. He cracked a thin smile. "Get in the car, asshole."
Vince was shoved into motion, the gun ensuring he kept moving.
As he staggered toward the waiting sedan, he had a sinking feeling this was the closest he would ever get to feeling a few hundred grand worth of metal and leather and high-end performance machinery wrapped around his stupid, sorry ass.
* * *
