The Renegade Hunter (9 page)

Jo snorted. "Very few words if he can't even bother with little words like the, goes, or please."

"The seat belt goes on, please, or the vehicle stops," Bricker said, using those little words Anders hadn't.

Jo chuckled at his imitation of the other man's deep growl, but sat back to do up her seat belt. She didn't miss the little sigh Anders released at Bricker's teasing, though, and it made her grin. She peered from Bricker's good-natured face to the back of Anders's head and said, "So how come you weren't at the party last night?"

Anders was silent for a minute and then glanced to Bricker. "Is she speaking to me?"

A snort of amusement slid from Bricker, but he nodded. "Yes, Anders, I'd guess she is."

He turned back to the road, and Jo was just deciding he wasn't going to answer her question when he said, "I was working."

"Really?" she asked with interest, leaning as far forward as her seat belt would allow. "Working on a Saturday night?

What do you do?"

There was a pause and then he said simply, "Hunt."

Jo raised her eyebrows and drawled dubiously, "Right."

Silence fell in the vehicle as they reached the gates at the end of the drive.

Two men were stationed at the guardhouse

today, she noted. One rushed to open the inner gate for them while the second stood at the booth and watched them pass. She wondered briefly if the added security was because of Bad-Breath Boy's visit last night, and then they were out and heading up the road.

"So... Anders," Jo murmured, sitting back in the seat. "What's that trace of accent you have?"

His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. They were narrowed at the moment and a beautiful black with gold flecks, she noted, and then his eyes shifted back to the road. "I don't have an accent.

You do."

"Beg pardon," she said dryly. "This is Canada and I have a Canadian accent, which means I have no accent here. But you do, just a trace, but it sounds..." Jo paused, considering the few words he'd said so far and then guessed, "Russian?"

His eyes met hers in the mirror again. This time there was a flicker that might have been something like appreciation in his eyes as he nodded.

"So is Anders your first name or last?"

"Last."

Jo pursed her lips. "Anders doesn't sound very Russian."

"It was originally Andronnikov," he admitted. "I got tired of North Americans mangling the name."

"Hmm," Jo said. "Russian. We should get along great then."

"Why?" he asked, and she couldn't help but notice that his tone was dubious as he met her gaze in the mirror again.

There was also true confusion on his face. She suspected he doubted they would get along at all.

Jo met his gaze, smiled sweetly, and said, "Well, it just figures, doesn't it?

I'm a bartender, you're a Black Russian. It's a

perfect match."

Bricker burst out laughing, but Anders, she noticed, looked less than impressed, and Jo wondered if that crack would be considered racist. She hadn't thought so. Actually, she hadn't thought at all before saying it. Damn, she really needed to learn to think before she spoke.

"It wasn't racist," Anders said dryly. "It was a very bad play on the name of an alcoholic beverage, but not racist."

Jo peered at him sharply. "How did you know I was worrying about that?"

He hesitated, but then shifted his eyes back to the road and said, "You have that guilty look white people get when they're worried they've misspoken." Anders glanced back to the mirror and raised an eye brow as he asked, "Or is it racist to call you white? Perhaps I should say Caucasian."

Jo snorted and then found herself babbling, "Hell if I know. You can call me white if you want. Although I don't really get

the whole white business myself, I mean we aren't really white. Well, I suppose we can be when upset and we pale, but mostly we're kind of tan in the summer and pink like pigs in the winter."

"Shall I call you pig then?" he asked sweetly.

Jo's eyes sharpened on his face in the rearview mirror, but she caught the twitching of his lips and asked, "Was that an attempt at a joke?"

"It was better than yours," he said, and actually cracked a smile.

"Hmm," Jo muttered.

"Right," Bricker commented with amusement, "So now that you two have broken the ice and moved straight to the slinging of insults, where are we going for breakfast?"

"Do not look at me," Anders said dryly. "I do not eat... breakfast," he added when Bricker glanced at him sharply.

"You should," Jo said with feigned solemnity. "It's the most important meal of the day, you know."

"Is it?" Anders asked. "And what do you usually have for breakfast?"

"Dried-up day-old pizza or anything else I can scrounge up," she admitted wryly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Anders said in dry tones.

Jo frowned at his knowing expression. "It's my pores, isn't it? They give away my bad student-type habits."

His eyes sharpened on hers in the mirror, bewilderment in their beautiful depths. "Your pores?"

"Yeah. I have big pores that give away my vices while you guys all have baby's ass pores."

"Baby's ass pores?" Bricker asked incredulously.

"Smooth and poreless like on a baby's butt," she explained dryly.

"Jesus," Anders muttered, his hand rising to rub his own cheek and his eyes examining his skin in the rearview mirror.

"Eyes on the road, big guy," Jo ordered. "You can look at your pretty self later."

Anders stared at her in the mirror briefly and then glanced to Bricker and muttered, "It's a shame I can read her. She's an interesting female."

"I know. I've been bemoaning it all summer," Bricker said on a sigh, and then added, "She's hot too."

Jo wasn't sure what the hell they were talking about with the reading business, but was relatively certain she'd just been given a compliment. It cheered her up and made her smile. Jo smiled a little wider when she realized that her headache was easing. Something to eat and some juice and coffee might help eradicate it completely, she thought. "There's a little place not far from my apartment that serves all-day breakfast."

"Address?" Anders asked, apparently reverting to his man-of-few-words persona.

Jo gave it to him and then leaned her head back and closed her eyes, hoping that relaxing a little on the drive would help ease the headache some more.

When Ernie's van pulled into the gas station, Nicholas scanned the street, spotted an open parking spot, and managed to maneuver into the tight space. He then glanced toward the gas station. Ernie obviously hadn't stopped there in search of gas. He'd parked on the edge of the lot and was now staring at the restaurant parking lot across the street.

While it was Ernie he had set himself the task of watching, Nicholas couldn't resist looking toward the restaurant himself.

He was rewarded with a perfect view of Jo, Bricker, and Anders getting out of the SUV they had driven there in and heading into the restaurant. They

disappeared through the front door, only to reappear a moment later in the large front window as they claimed an empty booth there.

When Nicholas then glanced back to Ernie, it was to find that the other rogue had shut off his van and looked like he was settling in for a wait. It seemed he could no longer deny the obvious; while he was following Ernie, Ernie for some unknown reason had set himself the task of following Jo, Bricker, and Anders. Mouth tightening, Nicholas shut off his own engine and sat back to wait as well, but it wasn't long before he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat and wishing he had the little foam cushion he liked to place at his back. Unfortunately, that was still in his old van, which he suspected was now in enforcer hands. At least the damned thing had been gone by the time Jo had broken him out of his cell, and he'd ridden out on the undercarriage of the SUV. He'd dropped to the pavement as it had raced past the spot where he'd left the van, taking a damned good road burn in the process, only to find his van missing.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Mortimer had sent men out to find his vehicle after he'd been captured.

He had no idea where they'd taken it to. They hadn't brought it back to the enforcer garage before he'd left, so he supposed they'd taken it somewhere to search it. Perhaps Argeneau Enterprises where Bastien Argeneau's science geeks could go over it with a fine-tooth comb.

It had been a great disappointment to Nicholas to find his vehicle gone.

Aside from the fact that it held all of his meager

belongings, it had meant a rather long walk for him. Had a car with some slightly drunken teenagers returning from a party not come by, he would have been forced to run all the way back to the city. Fortunately, he'd barely started out for town when they'd roared up the road in his direction. Nicholas had immediately taken control of the driver and brought the vehicle to a halt, then had gotten in to hitch a ride into town.

Nicholas holed up in a motel until morning and then headed out to purchase some supplies: clothes from a secondhand store, tools, and weapons, as well as this new van. Well, new to him, he supposed. It was used, but then he'd had to pay cash and didn't exactly have access to his previous wealth. Used or not, it had four wheels and ran. It would do for a while, he thought, watching as Jo laughed at something Bricker had said.

The sight was rather disturbing to him. Nicholas didn't like that Bricker was making her laugh, but it took him a moment to recognize what he was experiencing as jealousy. He wanted to be the one sitting there with her, making her laugh...

and it was all his own fault that he couldn't.

Sighing, Nicholas shifted unhappily in the driver's seat. He couldn't claim Jo as his life mate. There was no way he would force her to live a life on the run, but fate wasn't helping him to stay away from her. After buying the van, his first instinct had been to go find where Jo lived and wait there for her, but he'd subdued that less-than-sensible idea and instead had headed after Ernie, following the tracker he'd placed under the man's van several days ago.

Nicholas had been rather shocked when trying to do the right thing, rather than what he'd wanted, had led him straight back to the enforcer house. Or at least to the neighboring house. He'd spotted Ernie's vehicle parked in the trees and

glimpsed someone in the driver's seat.

Secure in the knowledge that his own windows were tinted and that Ernie wouldn't be able to tell it was he in the van, Nicholas had pulled into the driveway of a house on the opposite side of the road. It had been nearly noon when he'd shut off the engine to wait and see what unfolded.

He hadn't had long to wait before the SUV Ernie was presently following had driven by him. Nicholas had spotted Jo in the backseat as the vehicle passed, and his heart had lurched just to see her.

It had lurched again when Ernie's vehicle

had suddenly pulled out to follow the SUV. Nicholas had immediately started the engine and followed as well, worrying all the way into town. The only thing he could think was that Ernie had decided that going after Dani and Stephanie was too risky and so was making do with Jo instead. Perhaps he hoped to punish Nicholas for interfering last night by taking her.

Ernie had probably heard him murmur that he couldn't read her when he'd tried and failed last night.

It was a worrying thought and something Nicholas didn't intend to allow to happen. He sat thinking of ways to protect Jo as he watched the trio in the restaurant talk to the waitress, receive their orders, eat, and then get the check. When Bricker threw some money on the table and the trio stood to exit the restaurant, Nicholas sat up and started the van engine, preparing to follow. His priority had changed. If Ernie had set his sights on Jo, then Nicholas wasn't letting her out of his sight for a minute.

"Thanks for the breakfast, guys. Have fun watching my building. I'm going to bed," Jo said cheerfully as Anders stopped the SUV in front of the large Victorian house that held her little one-bedroom apartment. The house had been split into five apartments years ago. Hers was small, and the building was run down, but it was also cheap and close to work and school, both of which were important considerations for a university student supporting herself.

"Yeah, sure, rub it in," Bricker said dryly, and she glanced up from undoing her seat belt to find he'd already slid out of the front seat and opened the back door for her. The man had lovely manners, she'd say that for him, but Jo had noticed that earlier in the summer. He, Decker, and Mortimer all had lovely manners. Even Anders, who was dry as dust and spoke little, had fine manners.

Jo accepted the hand Bricker offered and climbed out of the vehicle. As she stepped onto the sidewalk and straightened, she suggested, "You could always go back to the house and tell Mortimer you lost me."

"Oh yeah, like he'd believe that." Bricker laughed, slamming the back door closed.

Jo grinned and shrugged as she turned away. "Have fun then."

She half expected him to follow her to the house and open the front door for her, but when Jo got there he was still standing by the SUV, watching her. She opened the door and entered, smiling as the muffled sound of reggae music met her ears. J.J. was home. The guy was white as a lily but fancied himself a born-again Jamaican, sporting colorful Caribbean clothes and dreadlocks. He smoked pot too, the malodorous stench often seeping into the hallway, usually on a cloud of the air freshener he used to try to mask the smell. Jo often wondered what it was exactly he was studying at the university, but she hadn't yet gotten around to asking him. He was always so stoned it was hard to hold a conversation with the guy.

Shaking her head, Jo passed the door to his apartment and climbed the stairs to the second level where her apartment waited. While there were two two-bedroom apartments on the main floor, there were three one-bedroom apartments on the second, and hers was the middle apartment. She had to pass Gina's apartment to get there, and as usual the door was open, allowing a glimpse of bright yellow walls, lots of plants, and Gina herself in an overlarge T-shirt and little else, curled up on a chair in her living room, the inevitable book in hand. Gina was a psychology , major and today's book was abnormal psych. It was a course Jo herself had taken as an elective and quite enjoyed.