Awaken Me Darkly (Alien Huntress #1)(4)
Author: Gena Showalter

“That I can do.” Features tightening with concentration, Dallas unfolded his computer console, located where steering wheels were once positioned. Within seconds, he was plugging away at the keyboard.

Pensive, I removed my gloves and massaged the back of my neck. “Pull up a list of every Arcadian hunted, questioned, or wanted for interrogation in the last year.”

“Males, too?

“Yes.”

“Already done.” He punched a few more buttons, and twenty-six names popped onto the screen.

Ignoring the names, I scanned the crimes committed. Prostitution. Robbery. Vandalism. “Cross-reference this list with all Arcadians questioned for sex and human hate crimes. Delete those that have already been exterminated.”

His fingers again flew over the keyboard. Mere seconds passed before the names dwindled to five. I nodded in satisfaction. Very few aliens linked to violent crimes ever lived long enough to gloat. Since alien supporters had yet to push through a law stating that other-worlders were entitled to a trial, hunters were often judge, jury, and executioner.

Instead of thanking us for keeping them safe, however, the supporters continued to fight us. Didn’t they realize that if aliens weren’t controlled, if their numbers weren’t kept to a minimum, they could overrun us? That they might one day have the power to wipe us out completely? Didn’t they realize that species with extraordinary powers like weather control, levitation, and the ability to absorb energy needed to know they would be punished if they harmed a human?

When the aliens first arrived more than seventy years ago, we would have destroyed them all if we could have. From all the reports I’d read, panic had spread worldwide, and we immediately engaged them in war. Instead of causing them to flee, we came very close to destroying our own planet.

In desperation, our world leaders finally met with the commanders of each species, and it was agreed that the aliens could live here as long as they remained peaceful toward us. However, as with humans, there are those who are innately good and those who are innately evil. When several other-worlders placed humans on their dessert menu, both aliens and humans agreed something needed to be done. A.I.R. was quickly established, granting us free license to kill those who proved evil.

“We’ll question each one,” I said, “see what they know.”

Keeping his gaze on the front windshield, Dallas adjusted the pyre-gun hooked to his shoulder holster. The lines around his mouth were taut. “To be honest,” he said, his voice just as taut, as if he were embarrassed by his words, “I’m not sure I’ll be much help to you on this case. I’ve only hunted two Arcadians since joining A.I.R., and I had no luck either time.”

“Then consider tonight your lucky night. We’ll split the unit into five groups of two, and each group will hunt one Arcadian.” I shifted to my left, facing him more directly. “You’ll be with me, and I”—I winked—“always get my alien.”

“Not a bit cocky, are we?” His lips widened into a full-fledged grin, and he radioed the others and told them our plan. “Jaffe, Mandalay, you’re searching for Cragin en Srr. Ghost, Kittie, you’re searching for Lilla en Arr—”

“No,” I said, cutting off his words. The moment he’d spoken Lilla’s name, cold fingers of apprehension had crawled up my spine. “I want the woman.”

His brow furrowed. “There are two females listed.”

“I want this woman.” My instincts rarely proved wrong.

His eyes gleamed with curiosity, but he nodded, corrected Ghost and Kittie’s target, then continued his litany. When he finished, he returned the radio to its receiver and faced me. “So you think Lilla’s our girl?”

“We’ll see.” I motioned to the computer with a tilt of my chin. “Pull up her voice frequency.” When an alien was interrogated, no matter the crime, their voice was recorded and filed, and through voice recognition we were able to monitor their whereabouts for the rest of their stay on Earth. Alien voice was much like human fingerprints, and since high-frequency recorders decorated every street corner and were constantly monitored, we’d have the information we wanted in seconds.

“Her voice isn’t listed,” Dallas said, confused.

“She was questioned, so it has to be. Try again.”

Silence. Then, “I’m telling you,” he said, “it’s not here.”

No damn way. “See what else you can find on her. Every little detail.”

He positioned his fingers onto the keyboard and jumped back into work. One prolonged heartbeat of time passed. Two. “Shit, take a look at this.”

“What is it?” I straightened in my seat and eyed the screen.

“Firewall. All records for Lilla en Arr are deemed confidential, and no one, and I do mean no one, is allowed entrance.”

“Arrests and interrogations aren’t confidential.” The words rushed from me, ripe with displeasure and confusion.

He shot me a narrowed glance. What little I saw of his eyes blazed with irritation. “I’m telling you, access is denied. This is one hell of a block.”

Dark curiosity pounded through me because there was only one logical explanation. Someone on the inside didn’t want authorities poking into Lilla’s life. “Get into that file,” I commanded.

“Want me to pull a rabbit out of my ass, too?” he muttered, his tone heavy with sarcasm. But he turned back to the screen, his fingers working furiously.

“If you can show me that rabbit at the same time you get into that file, I might think you’ve got talent.”

“Shut the f**k up, Mia.”

Minute after minute dragged by, the click of the keys the only sound. I was not known for my patience, and tapped my foot against the floorboard.

Finally Dallas laughed, threw his hands in the air, and shouted, “Couldn’t block that, could you, you bastards.”

“What’d you find?” Excitement blended with my impatience, each emotion feeding off the other.

“Still no voice recording, but she’s been questioned twice. Once for soliciting sex from a human, and once for beating the shit out of a human.”

“Who arrested her?”

“For solicitation—George Hudson.”

I filed that information away. I didn’t know the agent personally, but I would. “What about the assault charges?”

“Let’s see. The arresting officer was—” He scrolled down the screen, then whistled between his teeth. “The name’s been erased.”