Dark Taste of Rapture (Alien Huntress #6)(80)
Author: Gena Showalter

What do you know. His tenor had actually lightened.

At room six, they repeated the process with the Teran and that door slid open, too.

Hector eased his bundle to the floor and palmed a weapon.

Gordman was lying on a long table, face up, his clothes on but open, a naked Delesean giving him a blow job, while at the same time her six arms caressed his body. He had his hands in her hair, forcing her to take him deeper and harder than she probably wanted.

“Yeah, that’s the way,” he groaned. “You—”

“Might want to stop,” Noelle said, her own gun aimed and set to kill this time.

Gasping, the otherworlder jerked upright.

Gordman’s eyes popped open and his dark eyes flashed daggers. “Get out before I f**king gut you.”

“Original,” she muttered.

Ignoring her, Hector flashed his badge. “Threatening an agent. Not wise.”

Noelle anticipated paling, stuttering, even the emptying of bowels. A nice way of saying Gordman should be shitting himself from fear. I’m so classy! But the big brute pushed the otherworlder toward the door and sat up to right his clothing. The moment the three of them were alone, Hector reached back and closed the door.

“So, agent, mind telling me what this is about?” Gordman asked, all smooth and suave now. “I’m human. You have no jurisdiction with me.”

“Sure we do. But let’s disarm you before we get to that, hmm.” Hector closed the distance and flipped Gordman to his stomach, patting him down, tossing a pyre-gun and three blades to the floor. No protest from Gordman, no aggressive moves.

After toeing the blades as far away as possible—to be bagged and tagged later—Noelle used the hem of her shirt to pick up and shove the gun into the waist of her skirt. They couldn’t match the crystal to the burn marks found in Bobby’s chest, one of the disadvantages of using a pyre, but they could test to see how many times the weapon had been fired recently.

When Hector finished, he backtracked to her side and rapid-fired questions at their suspect.

“Who do you work for?”

One shoulder lifted in a negligent shrug. “Myself.”

“What do you do?”

“This and that.”

“What were you doing inside Bobby Marks’s home yesterday evening?”

A flicker of surprise passed over Gordman’s rough features, then anger, both swiftly masked with indifference. “We were friends. I was visiting. Paying respects to his family.”

“Then why didn’t you knock on the door?”

Gordman next unveiled a cocky grin. “Maybe he’d given me a key. Maybe he told me to enter any time I felt like it.”

Noelle so wanted to squeeze the trigger of her gun. Smug bastard. “Let’s see that key.”

“Sorry. Lost it.”

“Of course, you did.”

“Is that all?” the stupid shit asked, brushing an invisible piece of lint off his shirt. “Because you’ve wasted enough of my time.”

Add arrogant to the list. “You were spotted at a murder scene, so no, that isn’t all. You’re under arrest.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I never kid,” Hector said. “Turn around and put your arms behind your head.”

Finally, panic. Gordman erupted into motion, a blur Noelle couldn’t lock on. Which was probably a good thing. They needed to question him further, and because humans couldn’t be stunned, the only thing her pyre-gun would do was kill him.

He threw himself at Hector, and the pair crashed into the wall, a tangle of hammering fists and kicking legs. They’d both lived on the streets, and it showed. They went for the throat, the groin, nothing held back.

“I’m not going in!” Gordman shouted.

Because his boss would never trust him again? Because his boss would kill him to eliminate a potential witness to past crimes?

“The hell you aren’t,” Hector shouted back.

Noelle would have sat on the table and watched from there, but… ick. So she stood off to the side and allowed Hector to impress her with his savage skill. And oh, did he impress her.

Every time Gordman dove for one of the discarded blades, Hector was there, kicking him in the head and sending him flying, blood spraying. Bastard always got right back up, though, barely winded, as if he had a steel plate in his head. Hell, maybe he did.

Then Hector palmed one of his own blades, and got down to business. How sexy he was, a bit battered, golden eyes glittering with purpose.

“Slice and dice him, baby!” Noelle cheered.

Hector threw out an arm, but Gordman blocked with an upraised knee. A fast spin, Hector going low, and he nailed his opponent in the thigh. Another howl from Gordman as Hector straightened and swung a fist into his cheek.

The impact sent Gordman flying to the side, the blade jerking out of his leg. Hector followed him, going lower still, and stabbing Gordman in the ankle before he could leap out of the way.

Gordman fell to his knees, no longer able to support his weight. Merciless Hector wasn’t done. He barreled into Gordman, sending him propelling to his back. With barely a pause to gain his bearings, he turned the blade, hilt protruding from his fist, and slammed the hard, rounded surface into Gordman’s temple.

Gordman’s body sagged on the dirty floor.

Hector, being Hector, straightened and kicked him in the stomach. No gasp of pain, no flinching. Gordman was well and truly out.

Panting, sweating, Hector picked him up fireman style. Keeping his back to her, he said, “Well?”

“Well, your timing needs a little work, but your level of vicious is off the charts and highly—”

A low, rumbling growl erupted from his throat. “I wasn’t asking for a critique. I was saying that now that I’ve done all the work, aren’t you going to get the door?”

“Oh. No. I told you. I’m not touching anything, and that includes the ID panel. And your hands will need a through enzyme wash before they are allowed anywhere near me again.”

He laughed, the sound rusty, and yet the tension drained out of him.

I did that, she marveled, utterly awed. I amused him. Pride swept through her.

“Spoiled,” he muttered. With affection?

“I prefer the word intelligent.” She was getting through to him. Despite his fears, she was cracking through his resistance. I’ll have you yet, Hector Dean.

Outside, the storm had at last burst through the clouds. Rain had sent everyone scurrying for shelter and now beat against the concrete.