Chapter 5: The Promise of the Coming Day

Hunter just stared down at her for a second. "Whoa, she's on a roll tonight."

"Well, you know, I now have an idea why you can be so completely unbearable to be around sometimes." She giggled when Hunt made the sound of a rim shot.

"You're getting Punny, Mira. Maybe it's time to get you out of the night air. I think it's affecting your thought processes." He rose and tugged her up, turning her to walk ahead of him back toward her house. They'd walked only a few steps before his stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since before work in the morning.

"Wow, you didn't tell me you ate the bear too," she teased.

"Ha ha. No, I actually haven't had a chance to get dinner. Some little blonde hellion had my guts all twisted up after work today, especially after I touched her and didn't go insane." He patted her on her jean covered rump, urging her to keep moving. "I saw a Chinese place on the road out here. You wouldn't want to ... buy me dinner tonight? I mean considering the size of this place, I'm thinking you can afford it."

"And considering the look of your bike, you can't even afford a grown up car." She shook her head. "Scamming off females now, Hunt? Have you no shame?"

"Hey, it's good work when you can get it." He smiled down at her, his hand cupping her cheek. "I find that I have a problem, Mira."

His voice was soft, seductive, and she had no will to pull away from him. "What's your problem, Hunter?"

Her breathy little gasp made the smile on his face widen and he brought up his other hand, framing her wide emerald eyes before pushing them through her hair. "I can't seem to stop touching you." He tugged her a little closer, taking the one step that brought his chest into contact with hers. "I want to kiss you again, Mira. Tell me no now."

"No," she breathed agreeably, her face lifting, going on tip toes to move even closer.

He groaned, seeing the surrender in her eyes, in their soft grassy depths. Then his lips were on hers, hot and seeking, his arms wrapping around her waist, dragging her against him.

Mira didn't fight him; instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and wrapped one leg around his waist, holding him closer. Her mouth moved, her lips opening to tease him with soft touches of her tongue, beckoning him in, inviting him to take more, to drive the passion deeper. Her soft moans were swallowed by his mouth, and he reveled in her gasps of pleasure.

"I want you, Mira. I have since that first day at ASP when you told me in no uncertain terms to back the fuck off. I've dreamed of you. You've become my own personal nightmare." His voice was husky and low, sending a shiver of heat through her to her core.

She stared up at him mutely, seeing the question he wouldn't ask in his eyes. She had no answer, torn as she was by the newness of the sensation of touch and by the guilt that still echoed through her. Her hand was on his face and she reveled in the satiny texture of his hair, of the whiskery roughness of his skin. Such a contrast of sensations and she wanted more, so much more.

His stomach chose that moment to grumble once more and she laughed. "I think your stomach has other ideas, Hunter."

He smiled but it was one of chagrin. "So, what do you say? I'll let you ride on the back of my bike?"

Her eyebrow rose, disappearing behind the ragged expanse of her bangs. "Ride behind you on that buzzing monster? I don't think so. You go, get your Chinese food, Hunt."

"And?"

"And what?" she asked, her eyes narrowing up at him.

"And you'll be at my apartment first thing in the morning, ready to attack the grout mold, right?" He tapped his finger on her nose. "You lost, remember?"

"Oh, now wait ... if I'd said okay to the Chinese and riding pillion behind you on that monster machine of yours, you'd have forgotten about our bet?"

"Hell no, are you kidding? I've been looking for a good maid service for months now, ever since the last one quit. I'd have just made sure you were fed well first." He chuckled at the look on her face. "Oh come on, Mira. You can't be afraid of a little grout mold, can you?"

"Can I bring my blaster?"

Hunt laughed. "No, I don't think my landlord would appreciate the holes in the wall. I've got everything you'll need, Mira, love. You've just got to show up."

"You really expect me to show up at your apartment tomorrow and clean your grout?"

"You're not actually going to welsh on me now, are you, Agent Mirage?"

"The last time someone called me Agent Mirage, I'd just finished ramming my foot up their ass. You could be next."

Hunter laughed. "Now there's the Mira I know and love." He flicked his finger against her nose. "Don't make it too early. It is my day off, you know." He turned away from her, heading up to the front steps of her house.

"Where the fuck you think you're going?"

"I left my Jacket in your bedroom. You don't want me to ride my bike without it, I might end up getting sick. Of course, then you could make me some chicken noodle soup." He tipped his head as if considering it then opened the door and ducked inside. She was still standing there when he came back out a few minutes later.

The leather jacket hugged his shoulders, molding to his long, lean body, a body she'd always admired. Before heading toward his bike, he detoured toward her, pulling her tightly against him and dipping his head to take her lips in a quick, heated exchanged.

"Well, now I can dispel all those rumors about you being frigid," he breathed, lifting his mouth and taking a deep breath. "That should keep me warm on the way home."

Mirage stood staring at him as he walked away, her thoughts in an uproar. Part of her wanted to beg him to stay, to take her upstairs and into her lonely bedroom and make her remember all those things that she'd loved about being a woman. She wanted to feel that excitement, that joy. She wanted to remember what it was like to fall asleep, satisfied, in a man's arms and wake up to his kiss.

But another part of her screamed in denial. She wanted to wake up in Lineal's arms, to remember the joy of his kiss, or his love making. She wanted to be true to him, to the memory of their love, of the commitment that they'd made to each other so very long ago.

How could she ever think about being unfaithful to him? Her eyes turned hard as she watched Hunter slip on his helmet then throw his leg over the black seat of his bike. He kicked it to a start, the buzzing a loud, obnoxious roar in her ear.

A surge of disgust rose in her throat and she couldn't watch him anymore. She felt like a bitch in heat, panting over Hunter, the biggest philandering dog she'd ever met. He knew nothing of fealty, of trust and love. He was true to one thing, and one thing only, the rising of his own cock at the smell of any female. He wanted little but his own pleasure and he'd proven that to her many times in the five years that she'd known him.

She walked toward the house, closing the door as he pulled away from the stairs and headed down toward the gate. He'd made it in on his own, he could damn sure make it out just fine as well. Heading up the steps, she barely glanced at her bed, instead going to the closet and kicking off her shoes. She pulled out a pair of heavy duty boots, the kind with heels hard enough to break bone. Pulling out her own black leather jacket, she pulled it on and then headed back downstairs.

Mirage grabbed her keys off the table where she'd dropped them and stuffed them into her pocket. Her mini-blaster went in the other and her six inch dagger was slipped into the top of her boot. She wasn't looking for trouble, but in the mood she was in right now, she knew it would find her.

Hunter was no where in sight when she got into her car. So much for her quiet night and the book that she'd thought to start. She needed a drink and she needed it in the company of others, those like herself. She knew exactly where she was heading. Reaching into the center console of her car, she lifted out a thin pair of black leather gloves, gloves that fit her hands so well, so could lift dimes off smooth surfaces with them on.

She slid the ignition key in, turning the car on smoothly before backing down to turn her car around. Than she was through the gates and on the main drag, turning away from town and heading even further into the country.

Twenty minutes later and she was pulling into the parking lot of a darkly painted building. The windows were either dark or blacked out and very little sound could be heard from the parking lot. Mirage smiled, getting out and locking the car behind her. She walked toward the deserted looking building and didn't hesitate at the door.

It took a moment for her eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness inside but when it did, she saw the slight glow behind a bar full of glasses. There was the low grumble of voices and Mira could see the darker shapes of those that inhabited the few bar stools there.

A sense of peace filled her and she smiled, cocking her leg around one of the stools that were open. She nodded at the creature that stood behind the bar, nodding against when he held up a bottle. It was sat in front of her, a short glass next to it. "Getcha anything else?"

"A little music," she answered, sliding a ten dollar bill across the bar toward him.

He nodded and then picked up a remote, pointing it at a large piece of stereo equipment that stood in a corner. It lit up, the brightest thing in the entire place and a bluesy saxophone filled the bar, the sound mellow with just a hint of soul.

The bartender glanced at Mira and smiled at her nod. She poured herself two fingers of liquid from the bottle and then swished it around the glass before taking a sip. She relaxed onto the stool, letting the music flood over her. A long sigh escaped her as she finally felt as if she could breathe again.

The voice from behind her was unexpected and very unwelcome. "I know you."

Mira took another sip out of her glass. She decided to ignore the man who was pacing irritably behind her. Instead of answering, she picked up the bottle, pouring more of the biting alcohol into her glass.

"I said I know you!" the man growled loudly. His hand fell on her shoulder and he yanked, forcing her to face him.

"I was hoping you'd do that," she hissed, letting the glass settle onto the bar. She saw the fist he threw at her and caught it easily in one hand, standing and thrusting the ball of her hand so that it landed hard against his stomach, just under his diaphragm.