Ecstasy in Darkness (Alien Huntress #5)(57)
Author: Gena Showalter

She stared down at him for several heartbeats of time, silent, hands balled on his shoulders, suddenly panting, remembering the way he’d rushed in to save her, how easily he’d done it, the way she’d had to think of him to stay sane, and how easy it had been to think of him at all. How she craved him constantly, how he’d moved in with her, and that wasn’t as repugnant as she’d always feared, how he belonged to her and she belonged to him, and they’d just admitted it.

How, just then, she couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do than lose herself in his kiss.

“We never sealed our bargain,” she rasped.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs brushing the corners of her lips. “Then we had best do so.”

Their mouths met in the middle.

Seventeen

Dallas knew someone had broken into his apartment before he saw the front door was slightly ajar. Not because of a psychic vision, but because a break-in was the perfect ending to his shit-infested day. Oh, and he smelled roses and gunpowder in the hallway. No one in this wing could afford fresh flowers, and gunpowder was only used by street gangs who managed to get their hands on old weapons.

He knew it wasn’t a street gang that had kicked in his door.

Trinity had found him again.

He palmed his newest gun, an experimental weapon he’d commandeered after Trinity’s warning at the bar, and punted the door the rest of the way open. Instead of stun or death rays, instead of bullets, this gun ejected darts of poison that broke the blood-brain barrier in an instant, supposedly paralyzing the victim. Or killing. Whatever. Trinity might still be here, might not, and the poison might work on her, might not, but no telling who else had accompanied her.

Immediately he saw two males guards stationed on opposite sides of the entry. Their backs were pressed against the wall, offering him their profiles. They knew he was there—a f**king chimp would have known after that door-busting thing—but they didn’t move, didn’t twitch.

He fired, anyway, nailing one than the other in quick succession. The red darts whizzed through the air and nailed both males in the neck. They groaned, twitched, and collapsed. Excellent. The paralyzing agent worked. Maybe a little too well. Their chests stopped moving.

Oh, well. They had invaded his home. They deserved what they got.

Best thing about these darts, though, was that they didn’t cause bloodshed. The tips were shoved through a pyre-crystal before ejection, and the heat cauterized the ensuing wound before a single bead of blood could form.

“Was that entirely necessary?” a familiar female tsked.

The queen. Trinity.

She’d stayed.

Dread increased the flow of his blood, which in turn increased the speed of his inhalations. Every lungful of breath infused her scent—roses, stronger now, as if they’d bloomed in a frosted field—with his own, until he wasn’t sure if he was Dallas anymore or if he belonged to her.

“Put the weapon away, and I’ll reveal myself.”

He gritted his teeth. He couldn’t see her, but she’d sounded loud enough to be standing right next to him. He wasn’t hers, he reminded himself. Would never be hers. Right now, he was Kyrin’s, the guy who’d fed him Arcadian blood and saved his life all those months ago. The guy who’d made him what he was. Psychic, able to control people with his mind, and fast beyond measure. Not that any of that helped him with Trinity.

“You made good on your threat,” he said, sheathing his gun. He didn’t want to, but knew deep down she would stay true to her word. All the while, he stealthily punched in Mia’s number on his cell. Hopefully she’d answer, listen, realize something was wrong, then beat feet to get here.

Sure enough, the queen walked around him, from back to front, a second later, fingertip dragging over his shoulder and chest. Only, that finger misted through him, insubstantial. A dart would slide right through her, too, he realized.

The top of her head only reached his chin. Her hair was dark now, he saw, and chopped to her jaw, but everything else was the same. Those soulful eyes, those soft lips. That flawless skin.

He spread his legs, hands remaining behind his back, a classic I’m-not-moving-from-this-spot, you-can-totally-trust-me stance.

“Yes,” she said, deceptively sad. “I infected one of your agents.”

Are you there, Mia? Did you hear that? Do you know who I’m dealing with? He stored the phone in his pocket. “He wasn’t an agent, Trin. You don’t mind if I call you Trin, do you? You’re a queen, I know, but I don’t think we need the formality. Johnny was only in training.”

Trinity whirled full throttle, robe twirling at her feet, eyes glittering. “In training? Well, that’s disappointing. But no matter. He’ll serve me well.” Her gaze skittered to her fallen comrades. “You owe me another guard.”

He owed her? Owed? Bitch. “I killed two.” Were there others here? Others he couldn’t see? “But you only want me to replace one? Gee. Thanks for the discount.”

“No discount. I’ve already taken Johnny.”

He bristled at this second reminder. “Actually, we have him. Not you.”

She laughed, soft, gentle, and just like before, it was like hearing bells. “Not for long.”

What did that mean? She’d spring the guy? He’d try and escape? He’d soon die? “So why’d you pick him, hmm?”

“You didn’t seem to like him, so I thought I would be doing you a favor.” Another whirl, and she was gliding to his couch. Another, and she was easing down, peering over at him with a half-smile.

Good. He’d relaxed her. Time to up his game.

“You’re allowed to show your thanks,” she said.

He arched a brow, a f**k-you expression she would hopefully interpret as a simple refusal, and strode over—careful, have to be careful—then leaned down and tried to pinch a lock of her hair between his fingers. Like mist, cool, whispering.

“I liked the blond better,” he said. He let his arm fall to his side—See, Trin. You can trust me—praying Mia was even then gathering troops to raid his place. How would they take her down, though, when they couldn’t touch her?

She stood, never quite brushing him. Before his eyes, those dark strands lengthened and lightened until they were completely devoid of color. He could only watch, wide-eyed.

To his knowledge, only one other person possessed such an ability. Macy Briggs. An AIR agent who could switch identities with only a thought. Macy could change more than her hair, though. She could change faces, gender, bodies. Everything. They’d always assumed she was harmless. Could she be one of the Schön?