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Awaken Me Darkly

Awaken Me Darkly (Alien Huntress #1)(10)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Them?” I demanded. “Who is them?”

Her mouth fell open, as if she couldn’t believe she’d given so much away. She didn’t answer.

“Who is them?” I insisted.

“That is none of your concern.” She arched her brows. “And you, I think, will not ask me such a question again. I won’t hurt you; that would anger my brother. But there are other things I can do—”

“Your brother? Why would he care?”

“No more questions.”

Phantom hands shoved their way into my mind, grasping, reaching. I went on instant alert, using all of my strength to erect a mental block. “Mind control is a crime,” I ground out. A sharp ache pounded in my temples, growing deeper and more intense with every second that passed, and I wasn’t sure if the pain stemmed from her attempt at mind control or my attempt to block her powers.

When I thought I might cry out from the strain, she whipped around, and the dynamism of her gaze was broken. All of a sudden my pain ceased, and dizziness overtook me. Unable to focus, I dropped my head into my waiting hands.

The air began to spark with electricity, and the intensity only increased.

“Dallas,” I said, forcing myself to glance at him.

He ignored me. He was focused completely on Lilla…and he was opening the goddamn door for her.

“Dallas!”

Still no response.

I had the sense of mind to grab my voice recorder before lunging to my feet. My knees buckled. By the time I regained my balance, Lilla was gone. I raced around the desk, saw that Dallas was slumped against the wall, eyes closed. I flew into the hallway, but only emptiness greeted me. Damn, damn, damn.

I stomped my foot, and the weight of my boot caused a heavy thud. Inside the office, I slapped Dallas across the face, hard, putting all my strength behind the blow. “Damn it, why did you let her go?”

“I—I don’t know.” His expression bemused, he shook his head, blinked his eyes.

“Why?” I demanded.

“I felt like I had to open the door for her, or I’d die.” A moment later, his eyes darkened with anger. He rubbed three fingers over his reddened cheek. “Why the hell did you hit me?”

“I think the better question is, why didn’t I slap you twice?”

He left that alone, because he knew I was angry enough to follow through. “Do you know where she went?”

“She’s smart, and she knows we’ll find her here. My guess is she’s run to another location—or to someone,” I added as an afterthought. Then I swore under my breath. “I can’t believe we let her get away.”

“Look at it this way,” he offered. “Now the true fun begins. We’re going hunting.”

CHAPTER 4

Side by side, Dallas and I pounded down the steps, taking them three at a time. Still dizzy from Lilla’s mind control, Dallas wasn’t as agile as he normally was. He stumbled once and had to grip the banister to keep from tumbling face first.

A group of men, obviously hired muscle, waited for us at the bottom. They were human, which meant we couldn’t kill them without a shitload of consequences. Too bad, too. A little killing might have worked off some of my tension.

We ground to a halt in the middle of the staircase. We either had to arrest them or fight them, and I didn’t have time to take them to A.I.R. headquarters. What’s more, anyone who attempted to hinder an alien investigation deserved an ass kicking.

I counted five idiots, all grinning because I probably looked like I’d never been dirty, never perspired, and never said a naughty word in my life, and Dallas was only one man. What harm could these two do? they were thinking.

A slow grin played at my lips. I’d spent my childhood in one fight or another, trying to prove to my dad that I was strong, capable, and fearless, just like my brothers had been. Living in the Southern District, the poor side of town, I hadn’t been able to fight like a cop or a sweet little lady. No, I’d learned to fight dirty. And mean.

Maybe if my mom hadn’t run off when I was a kid, she could have instilled some feminine qualities in me. But she had, and I wasn’t a “lady.” A tide of anticipation was already rushing through me at the thought of putting these men in their places—at my feet.

“You ready for this?” I asked Dallas. I knew how to inflict damage, yes, but I couldn’t do this alone.

“Absolutely.” He sounded completely sure of his ability.

“This is going to be fun,” one of the idiots said.

The speaker was a handsome man, probably only twenty years old, and he had a hard-on the size of a police baton. Impressive, but it wasn’t going to save him from a beating. He wore a come-and-lick-me smile, and I noticed he had a mouth of straight white teeth. Too bad he was about to lose some of them.

To the beat of the music rocking in the next room, Dallas and I darted into action. The moment I neared them, I kicked out one leg and struck one of the men in the balls with the heel of my foot, all without missing a step. He screamed in pain. The starting bell, you could say, because the fight had just begun.

Another man came at me, and I let my fist fly forward. Bone crunched against cartilage. Blood squirted from his nose. Never pausing for breath, I elbowed two throats, broke one man’s kneecap, kneed a couple groins, and jabbed a pair of eyes before slamming a guy’s head into the wall. One of the men recovered sufficiently to grab me by my jacket lapels. I brought my arms up hard and fast inside his grip and quickly ground my palm into his trachea. Eyes wide with horror, he struggled to scream, the sound broken. He released me as if I were radioactive waste and clutched at his throat, unable to breathe.

He’d probably die, and I’d be written up. Oh, well. “You shouldn’t have come back for seconds, dumbass.”

Beside me, Dallas fought like a champion boxer. He punched, ducked, then punched again, intermittently landing solid blows. Finally all five men lay unconscious at our feet. Blood pooled from some of the bodies, a crimson river of pain. A tooth lay next to the far wall—it probably belonged to the guy who’d thought this would be fun. Ha!

I had endured several fists to my stomach and now had a cut lip, and a bruised thigh. One of the men had actually pulled my hair and scratched my cheek, like a sissy girl who hadn’t gotten her way. What a pu**y.

I ignored the fact that I was doubled over and panting like a sissy myself. “You okay?” I asked Dallas.

“My side and face hurt like hell, but other than that, I’m fine.” He gently fingered his swollen, blackening eye. “You?”

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