Chapter Eight

Eight

"You cleaned your Jeep," Renee said, her arm in the open window as she slumped against the door so the wind would shift her hair and help her forget. Jackson was a patient driver, having settled in behind a sun-bleached truck, annoyingly content to let the other lanes go faster. Let it go, Renee. He's driving, not you. "Isn't being dirty part of the mystique?"

He shrugged, and her eyes tracked the silver Jeep in the opposing lane approaching them. Sure enough, Jackson gave them the peace sign without his hand ever leaving the wheel. The driver of the other vehicle returned it…and then he was gone. It was the second such exchange since they'd left the installation, and either Jackson knew a lot of people or it was a Jeep thing. And what is it with the rubber duckies on the dash?

Grimacing, she closed the window as they picked up speed and her hair began to smack her in the face. It felt odd to be sitting beside him, though he'd driven her out to that bar. She glanced at him, remembering their breakfast and what Vaughn had said.

The project's counselor was right that she kept people at arm's length. She was good at it, so good most never realized. But she hadn't always been like that. Maybe it was time to change. She could have a real friend. More than a friend. Jackson, maybe. He said he'd move as slow as she wanted. Needed.

And for one brief moment, she pondered that—until the panic crashed over her, a heady wave of terror catching her breath and sending her pulse skyrocketing.

Damn it, not now, she thought, forcing her hands to unclench. Breathe, she told herself. Look at the dash. Watch the sun glint on the rocking keys. Feel the blue cotton under your fingers. Smell the faint scent of oil. Listen to the sound of the wheels. Hear it drone. Don't let him see you freaking out or he'll try to be nice and make it worse.

Slowly her cramped chest eased and she exhaled. Vaughn could eat shit and die.

"So, you use that snorkel much?" she asked, glad her voice didn't shake.

Jackson's attention flicked to the after-factory modification, then to her. "Not as much as I'd like, no."

His smile faded, and the silence returned. She sat stiffly upright and watched the world go by, counting the streetlights so the panic wouldn't return. And slowly…even the hint of it vanished. She took a deep breath. Exhaled.

Seeing other people was almost a shock—people who didn't know about portals to other worlds, and Neighbors. Jackson had left his ID badge in the dash cup, and she took off her own, tucking it in a pocket. The image of Han's hollowed-out body flashed through her mind and was quickly quashed.

No, they don't know, but they will, she mused, her lips quirking in distaste as she remembered the awful excitement in the blogger's voice. Gorman. He was a piece of work. Gave Tayler a run for her money for the America's Greatest Turd award.

Her attention sharpened when Jackson flicked on the turn signal, and she sat up as he pulled into a small parking lot. It wasn't the movies or the expected bar.

"The zoo?" she questioned as he parked.

Jackson's chest moved in a sigh, his gaze fixed on the colorful banner over the entrance.

"I can't sit for two hours in the dark and do nothing," he said. "If I go into a bar, I will make a mistake. The zoo encourages loitering." His brown eyes were pinched in worry as he looked across the Jeep. "I like the cheetah exhibit, and I haven't seen the new cubs yet."

But neither of them made even one motion to get out when two moms, a big-ass stroller, and a handful of kids flowed out of a van. It was uncoordinated and messy, slow and rife with opportunities for disaster. Somehow, though, they all got to the curb and the ticket kiosk without incident. August was right. Only predators would allow their young to have so much unfettered freedom. But there is prey within our memories, too, she mused as the women unconsciously coordinated their surveillance, scanning the outskirts for danger even as they enjoyed the sun and chatted.

"What are you going to say to Noel?" she asked.

Jackson's eyes narrowed as if he was accusing her of breaking an unknown rule. Silent, he got out of the Jeep. "You coming? I'll buy you a stuffed animal."

She tried to smile—not for her, but for him. "Well, if you're going to buy me a plushie."

Her soft-soled shoes hit the cement with an unheard thump that went all the way up to her skull. Their doors slammed shut almost at the same time, and she stood there, feeling the wind in her hair as he came around the front. Together they strode step for step to the ticket kiosk. Ahead of them, the merged families headed in. Her eyes rose to the ticket prices, and she reached for her wallet.

"I asked you." Jackson reached for his wallet as well. "My treat. Well, Uncle Sam's treat."

A real smile found her as the shade of the overhang took them. "You can expense two tickets to the zoo?"

He nodded as he ran his card and two tickets were spit out. "I can expense everything."

She took the colorful, thick ticket, thinking it would make a great bookmark. There was a scanner on the turnstile, and Jackson followed her, the harsh ratchet sound somehow more real and grounding than an hour with her therapist.

But her steps slowed as she found herself in a world apart, one hidden at the center of the city like a cupped jewel held close to one's middle. It was a world made by those who thought, as she did, that there was room enough for all if we could only slow down and see it, care about it.

The air held the sounds of Eden and the smell of cotton candy. Wide avenues bordered by heavily planted flower beds wove between enclosures designed for animal comfort, not necessarily good viewing.

August would love this, she thought as she noticed the plants in the beds had been coordinated to match the animals' native environment when possible. August wasn't a macro kind of guy. He liked the small stuff more than the big.

"Cheetahs," Jackson said, and she followed him to the faded yellow cat prints. They were as big as her hand. But then she hesitated, drawn by the delicious scent of roasting almonds.

"You want some?" she said as her steps faltered. "I got this." Jackson shook his head, but she was walking backward, not worried about running into anyone. The park was almost deserted. "I do," she added, and he scuffed to a halt, then followed. "I haven't had lunch, and this is probably the only time I'm going to get to eat if your guys are as good as I think they are."

"Good point," he said reluctantly, and she smiled at the attendant.

"Large, please," Renee said, liking Jackson's presence behind her. "So…" She turned to him as the man behind the counter filled a bag from the cooker. "Why didn't you go with your team today?"

"They can handle it," he said. "I was more concerned about how you would react than their skills." A faint smile quirked his lips. "I had this odd idea that I'd come back with two cadavers to find you in the brig. Honestly? I don't know which would be worse. I can't take any more dinners with glass between us."

"Yeah, well, you made a good choice, then." She tapped her card to pay, pausing as she shoved the thought to twist Tayler's arm to get a confession down deep. "Thank you," she said cheerfully as the warm bag filled her hand, and she offered Jackson first pick. "After you, Major."

"They smell good," he admitted, and their steps slowed to a halt as he cupped his hand and she shook some in.

Her thoughts went to August as they rocked back into motion, their pace comfortable again. Plant-based protein. "You're right about the last chance to eat today," he said as he put three almonds in his mouth and began to chew. "Mmmm. This is not what I had expected to be doing this morning."

"Eating roasted almonds in the zoo?" Renee prompted, and Jackson chuckled.

"Yes," he said dryly. "Eating roasted almonds in the zoo."

She sighed, the sweet protein making her hungrier. "Me either," she said, quashing the rising sensation of a kindred spirit. Hit the three d 's . Divert your attention. Distract your thoughts. Distance your mind, she thought as they found the cheetah exhibit and she leaned against the waist-high, fake-rock wall. "Maybe I should move almonds into the taste testing," she said as she shook another handful into Jackson's waiting palm. "I think August would like them. Good plant-based protein." Her shoulders slumped as she peered into the exhibit, searching for a lounging cat. "If they don't leave or declare war," she muttered. "God! I can't believe Tayler dissected them."

Jackson eyed her, elbows on the wall and squinting from the sun. "I can. At this point, I'm working on finding out who told her to do it."

"Yeah. Me too." Her attention flicked to a sudden motion. It was the two cubs, both as large as huge cats, rolling around doing happy-cat things. Mom was in the nearby bark-denuded tree watching. It was a scene that might never be re-created on the savanna, but they seemed content nevertheless.

"And I'm scared," she whispered, focused on the kitty contentment. "I don't know how they're going to react. They clearly need resources. If we tick them off enough, they won't go home. They'll take it, and then maybe go home. Maybe take it and not go home." She turned to him, seeing his agreement. "Maybe we deserve to get the short end of the stick."

"Wow, where is that coming from?" he asked, and she handed him the bag of almonds, no longer hungry.

Frustrated, she gestured at the cheetahs. "That animal has more rights and freedom than they do, and it's still in an effing cage. We locked them in quarantine," she said, voice low but intense. "Carved up two of them like sides of beef and tortured a dozen more. We murdered two of their people. A third is still unaccounted for. I don't know if I should hope Mikail is dead or still under Tayler's knife, alive and rescuable."

"Hold on." Jackson bent closer, words hushed. "We don't know that. They could have died from sustained injuries before they were dissected. We didn't know their needs when they arrived."

Head shaking, she put her arms over her middle. "They might be light on the vocab, but they read body language very well, Jackson. Don't try to lie to them. You know damn well that someone, probably Tayler, tortured them under someone's order to find out how they could adapt so fast and how far it would stretch." My God, they had cut off her wings to see if they would grow back. "I am going to pin someone's ass to the wall."

Silent, Jackson gazed at the cubs and ate an almond. "It's not that simple."

"Sure it is. ‘Ring, ring. Hello, Renee? The lab tests are in. Tayler had contact with them.' See?"

But he didn't say anything, didn't turn from the big cats.

"Is the problem that Tayler is probably working under Monroe's orders, or is it because she isn't?"

Jackson sucked on his teeth, removing a stuck nut. "I intend to find out."

It was probably the best she was going to get. "Let me know when you do." Disgusted, she put her elbows on the low wall and stood with her shoulder almost touching his.

"And if I do and can't tell you, Ms. Renee? What then?"

She shifted slightly to look at him askance. Ms. Renee. I like that. "You can tell me," she encouraged. "I won't tell anyone. Just smack her around." She pushed up from the wall. "Mikail is still out there."

"Yeah…"

His head bowed, and she spun, putting her back to the wall as a group of three went by. "August would really like this," she said, remembering his delight when the Neighbors were given ownership of the open-air courtyard. He'd spent an hour out there, afraid to move and crush the grass. He'd never seen grass, only moss. "I haven't been to a zoo in ages." Not to mention the likelihood of them being overheard by a tracking bug was almost zilch.

"You've been on your own for a long time, haven't you."

"You've seen my record," she said with a false calm.

"Mmmm." He glanced up the path the way they had come. "Vaughn is right. You don't let people get close. And when you do, it's only when they need help. It puts you in a position of power so you can walk away and lie to yourself that you cared about their welfare, not them."

"Dude!" she protested, feeling herself warm because it was exactly what she and her therapist had settled on—two weeks before she quit going. She didn't need help figuring out herself anymore, and deciding whether she was going to change or not didn't take forty-five minutes a week on someone's couch.

Jackson, though, was laughing. "Like recognizes like," he admitted, his mirth fading.

Kindred souls… she thought, refusing to let it mean anything. "How are you going to tell Noel?"

Jackson started at the quick shift, then shook his head. "I don't know. If I apologize, I look weak—unless I don't in their culture. If I don't apologize, I look callous—unless, again, their culture says otherwise. I have to please both my superiors and a society I know little about."

Renee relaxed deeper against the wall. "Tell me what you want to say, and I'll let you know what words August will have trouble with."

"All right," he muttered, then pulled himself straight. "Madam Noel," he said formally. "We—wait. My team has located two of your missing kin. I regret to inform—"

"To tell you," Renee interrupted.

"To tell you that General Han and his aide, Raphael, are…have suffered wounds that appear to have been inflicted…" He hesitated. "Caused," he said instead, "by whoever held them captive. It's my belief—"

"I'd stick with ‘I think,'?" Renee suggested, and Jackson nodded.

"Okay. I think. No, I'm embarrassed…"

He hesitated, and Renee nodded. August knew embarrassed . They had had a long conversation about it when he asked why her face turned red from time to time.

"I'm embarrassed to think that their mistreatment and resulting death was accidental." Jackson winced. "Will he know ‘mistreatment'?"

Renee bobbed her head and reached for a handful of almonds. "Yes. Unfortunately."

"Okay. Resulting death was accidental in the attempt to find the limits of your regenerative abilities."

August didn't know regenerative , but she'd make sure he would. "You're doing great," she prompted, and Jackson's anger began to tighten the corners of his eyes.

"I'm angry and ashamed that the people I look to for guidance might not only allow this mistreatment but promote it, even in the search for knowledge. Knowledge gained in such a way is…" He hesitated, shoulders slumping. "They won't know ‘morally,' will they."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. You can ask Will. If it was me, I'd just say, ‘Knowledge gained in such a way is wrong and unsustainable.'?"

"Unsustainable," Jackson said, trying that on. "I think I'm going to say that it's wrong and makes me ill in my thoughts." His eyes met hers. "Stains whatever good can come of it with their death."

"Yes. That's better." He was furious, hands in tight fists. "It's okay to let them see your anger."

"Good, because I don't think I can hide it." He took a breath. "It is my utmost wish—"

"Biggest?" Renee suggested.

"Biggest wish that I had known of this to stop it. Your people and their needs have become important to me. I return their bodies to you for your care with my biggest shame, sorrow, and anger. I return their bodies to you with…an idea to prevent more shame, sorrow, and anger."

"You do, huh?" she asked warily.

"I do." He grinned, but it faded fast. "To give anger a place to turn into sorrow and then healing, I would ask of you and my superiors that August, myself, Renee, and Will be allowed to talk to our world about you."

Renee pushed from the wall, arms about her middle. "Damn it, Jackson, you know I don't want to do that."

"Tough." His smile returned. "Suck it up, snake charmer. If I ask for their permission in front of Hancock and they agree, no one on the Hill can say different."

Her breath slipped from her in regret. "Smart," she admitted.

"So smart it might get me court-martialed." His expression went solemn again. "It's my wish that we begin to publicly share good things of each of us so that the bad is not all we know."

Renee squinted at him. "So that your people will see as August does," she said. "That, unlike Neighbors, humans have been both predator and prey. Our people should be allowed to see that Neighbors are not a predator to fear or prey to be used, but that Neighbors see with the same eye and hear with the same ear, and care with the same passion as those who we love."

"Damn, girl," Jackson said in admiration. "How long have you been thinking of this?"

She shrugged, her thoughts going to Mikail. Damn it, Tayler, if he's cut up, I'm going to lobotomize you.

"Will they know ‘love'?"

"They call it something different, but yeah." Her gaze went down, and she turned back to the cheetah cubs. "August excuses a lot of our fear because he says we remember being prey, that it makes us frightened of new things, but we also protect what we fear regardless because we understand being the predator, too. That is what will gain their understanding of us and maybe allow us to find common ground again."

"Predator and prey?" Jackson glanced at the enclosure, clearly unsure. "So we protect what frightens us, like that cheetah. If all we remembered was being prey, we would kill it when we had the chance. But we don't. We take responsibility for it. Confidently and with no fear. Because we are a predator, too."

She nodded. "That's why we have the capacity to care, to support, protect, nourish even what scares us. It's our biggest ace, and I think they will see it. August did." She hesitated. "Whatever you do, don't lie to them, Jackson. Tell Hancock that would be like walking in wearing Raphael's wings as a cape. Assure them that you'll find out who is responsible and tell them we have plans to find Mikail. How they respond will tell us how deep we are in the shitter."

Jackson exhaled long and slow, but this time, there was no worry, only regret. "Tell me about it." He shifted as his phone hummed, lips pressing when he read the screen. "That's the call." He put his phone away and rolled the top of the almond bag down and handed it to Renee. "They're on the way back. Acquisition successful, but Gorman got away. We'll scoop him up later. I have two hours until they get here. Any suggestions besides don't lie, and promise to find out who is responsible?"

She squinted up at him, thinking he looked good. Better now that he wasn't so worried. "Wear something nice," she said as she arranged his lapels. "They put a lot of stock in uniforms. Go easy on the cologne. It's too late to get a tattoo, but that's a jin thing, anyway."

Jackson arched one eyebrow high. "Wear something nice. Gotcha. Thank you, Renee. I don't know what I would do without you."

She froze when his hand took hers. His eyes were warm as he smiled, and her gaze went from her hand lost in his to his face, his eyes dropping to linger on her lips. He's staring at my mouth, she thought, pulse quickening. Your eyes go to what your heart wants. Or are you just attracted to him because you know he won't commit.

She stiffened. Sensing it, Jackson let go. Her eyes dropped, but her heart beat just as fast. "I'll tell August," she insisted.

"We both will."