Vengeful Bounty by Jillian Kidd Page B

case.
    â€œYou know, you are the luckiest woman in the world, and you don’t even know it,” Jenny said. She crossed her arms over the cute little blue tank top she wore. “You just don’t even have a clue!”
    I laughed, finding the hole in my right ear then sliding the sharp tip of the diamond earring through it.
    â€œWhatever you say, Jen,” I said. “He’s just Jackson.”
    â€œMmmhmm.”
    â€œGotta go, my friend! I’ll call you later!”
    â€œI hate you so much, you lucky bitch!”
    Grinning, I winked at her and ended the transmission.
    Gosh, what was everyone’s big deal? Jackson was just Jackson. They acted like he was some sort of god.
    I grabbed my keys and touched up my deep red lipstick.
    Yes, he was famous. And yes, he was good-looking. But Jackson was not my type. I lived too dangerous of a life to be into famous singers. Into them like
that
, at least. Plus, I didn’t want to drop an atomic bomb on a perfectly good friendship. Seemed to me that when men and women crossed over into the romantic realm, women opened themselves to unbelievable vulnerability and men felt they could trample all over those little feminine hearts. At least at a distance, men couldn’t hurt me.
    Then again…
    Just where the hell was Damon, anyway?
    Don’t let him rent space in your head, Mina,
I thought.
Evict him.
    â€œBye, Rogue,” I said. He sat at my feet, looking up at me as if I were leaving him forever. “You be a good boy, and Mommy will be back after while.”
    I leaned down and gave his chin a good scratch.
    Before I left my apartment, I hesitated, shining red eyes in the dark recesses of my dream memories. I stared at the closed door of my weapon closet.
    Sometimes I had to remind myself that I did live a dangerous life. One filled with sharp-toothed monsters.
    I opened the closet, grabbed my Pixie laser gun, and put it in my black sequin handbag.
    Just in case.

10
    Reunion Tower in Dallas had recently been modified into a Sky Café, meaning it was one of twenty-five or so restaurants on the planet that lifted off the ground, into the sky, and hovered above the clouds, giving the ultimate view to its patrons. The globe-shaped dining hall originally sat at the top of a sky scraping hotel when it wasn’t floating, and I normally would have taken the elevator up to it right before lift-off at 5:00 p.m., but Jackson’s and my later meeting time (not to mention my penchant for being late for our meetings in general) resulted in my having to take a mini shuttle from the hotel.
    I confirmed my reservation with the receptionist, and a gentleman led me to the shuttles. He pointed me to one in the middle, and I climbed into the seat in the center of the disc that could hold up to four people. Once securely in place with double-strap seatbelts crossing my chest, a glass bubble slid behind me from a slit in the craft and over the top of me, connecting in the front of the flying saucer. A man’s voice came in over a small speaker:
    â€œAll items secure?”
    â€œYes, thank you,” I said.
    â€œHave a good flight, and thank you for choosing Sky Café.”
    â€œYou’re most welcome.”
    The control tower guided me at stunning speed up and away from the Metroplex, and the city became smaller and smaller until it looked like a mere miniature of the real thing. Soft ascending electronic music played as a woman recited the same advertisement about Reunion Tower in English, Spanish, Vietnamese, etc. Soon I was above the cumulous clouds, which looked like a white fluffy carpet. Up above my head the restaurant hovered, rotating ever-so-slightly. The bottom of the café, thoroughly lit with blue and white lights, opened up a circle just wide enough for my craft to fit into. Once inside, the airlock
hissed
and
clicked
. I waited in a small, dark room, and then the clear dome around me slid open like a corvette top. A