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Enslave Me Sweetly

Enslave Me Sweetly (Alien Huntress #2)(36)
Author: Gena Showalter

Determined, I strode toward her. The different layers of scarves I wore danced at my ankles. Another female passed the group just in front of me, and she was holding her own glass of wine. When I reached her, I tripped her and “accidentally” tripped myself, spilling both of my wineglasses. Both women screamed as red liquid cascaded over their hair, their clothes.

The entire room seemed to turn toward them, intent on finding out what had happened. “Towels,” I said. Several others began muttering about towels. “I’ll get them towels.” Without another word, I slunk up the staircase as quickly as possible.

No one tried to stop me. When I reached the top, I meshed myself behind the wall and into a shadowed corner. Just beyond, I could hear footsteps pacing back and forth. One…two sets, I realized.

I didn’t have time to spirit-walk. Didn’t have time to learn their nuances and sneak around them. Determined, I reached up to remove my hairpins—but I paused, dropped my hands to my sides. Killing them wasn’t necessary, and I didn’t want blood on my dress. I quietly palmed the miniature pyre-gun strapped to my thigh and programmed it to stun. My adrenaline spiked—even as my feet ached. Damn heels.

Say hello, boys,I thought, leaping into action, racing straight for them, not even pretending to be lost. My hair swished back and forth down my back. Immediately I saw that both Ell-Rollises were holding pyre-guns. They were startled to see me and raised those guns to shoot. But they paused when they realized I was a woman, and their scaled, yellow faces darkened with confusion. That pause cost them.

I fired two shots in quick succession. A stream of blue light erupted, nailing one. The second stream slammed into the other. They froze in place, where they’d be locked in stun for hours, unable to move. But I couldn’t allow them to later tell Jonathan what they’d seen, so I fed them the hallucinogens. They wouldn’t know what was real, what wasn’t. They might even be blamed for stunning themselves. I bypassed them and quickly worked at the ID box that locked the bedroom door. A few seconds and two cut wires later, I was inside the room, the door closed behind me. I sheathed my gun.

Before I could revel in my victory, a hand smashed over my mouth and jerked me into a hard, hot body. I recognized Lucius’s decadent scent. Recognized the contours of his chest. I’d felt it that day in the woods, had seen it in my dreams. Still. Grab me, would he? My eyes narrowed. It was time to prove to this man he wouldn’t always get the upper hand with me.

I shoved my elbow into his stomach once, twice. He puffed out a breath, and his hold on me loosened. Spinning around, I kneed him. Hard. I didn’t curb my strength. He dropped to the fluffy white carpet with a pained moan. While he was down, I slammed my fist into his temple, and his head whipped to the side. I didn’t want to break his nose or blacken his eye. Not because I liked him, but because it wouldn’t do for people to know he’d been in a fight.

“Don’t ever grab me again,” I told him quietly.

“Dear God,” he said. There was pain in his eyes, but also respect. And admiration. “You’re in a slinky dress, and you look like a lady. You shouldn’t do that to a man.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes. Always.”

“Good to know.” He lumbered to his feet and massaged his balls. “Don’t ever hurt the boys again. I get vicious when they’re threatened.”

I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing you are, I’m sure, and there’s no time to waste. This way.” He grabbed my hand—I didn’t hurt him this time—and led me to a mural of naked, frolicking couples. He reached out, caressing his fingers between a redhead’s splayed legs.

“What are you—”

The mural parted, revealing a dark entryway. I almost clapped in excitement. I’d been right about the corridor! Lucius tossed a grin (still a little pained) over his shoulder before tugging me inside. The door closed, and total darkness surrounded us. Total silence.

Lucius never slowed as we descended a staircase.

“I hope you know where you’re going.” My words echoed through the small, cramped space.

“I’ve been here a thousand times. I know the way.”

An eternity had passed, or perhaps only a few minutes, when he ground to an abrupt stop. He released my hand. I heard a scratch, aclang, a muffled curse from Lucius, and then another door was sliding open. Rays of light seeped into my line of vision.

“In here,” he said.

“Should we be talking?” I whispered.

“Soundproof walls.”

We stepped into a plain gray room that boasted a single wall of windows, nothing more. Those windows gazed into the library, where Jonathan was lounging on the lime green couch, Claudia seated across from him. They each held a glass of dark, rich liquid.

I stopped and stared, but Lucius walked to the window and pushed a panel of buttons. The speakers came on, and we could suddenly hear what was being said.

“—won’t hurt her here, I promise you,” Jonathan was saying.

“Oh, really? Your friend came to New Dallas because he knew Eden would be here. He’s a stalker, Jonathan. A dangerous criminal who once kidnapped her and locked her away. Now, can you offer me a hundred percent assurance that he’ll leave her alone?”

Jonathan chuckled. “That certainly sounds like something Hunter would do. The man has balls of steel. But I’m not his father, and I can’t control him.”

Anger gleamed in Claudia’s dark eyes. “You’re laughing about this?”

“Claudia—”

“No. Eden is an alien and my employee, and therefore I am her protector. You’ll either keep your friend under tight watch, away from her, or I’ll bring in the media. You know several of them are sympathizers and will crucify you.”

I blinked in surprise. She was defending me, fighting for me. Wasn’t backing down. Was determined to help me. In that moment, I realized she wasn’t working with or for Jonathan. She really did care about her job, about aliens.

A muscle ticked in Jonathan’s jaw. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll speak with him.” Done with the conversation, he unfolded to his feet. “Come. I’ll escort you back to the party.”

Claudia, too, stood. She didn’t wait for Jonathan, but turned on her heels and strode out. Before he left, he tossed his glass against the wall, and gleaming shards rained onto the floor. All that sneaking around for a small glimmer of conversation.

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