Savor Me Slowly (Alien Huntress #3)(25)
Author: Gena Showalter

Alert me if anyone approaches, she commanded, and allowed herself to drift.

Her entire life, she’d despised having other people’s hands on her. She’d hated putting her hands on other people. Yet, Jaxon she had craved from the first, yearning for him to touch her, being surprised and delighted when he did, and longing to touch him. She didn’t understand how any of this was possible. Didn’t understand how she could want him even now.

This is why I don’t do relationships. Already she felt guilty about leaving him behind. What was Jaxon thinking? Did he hate her?

Her hands clenched at her sides. You can’t do this. You can’t travel this path. Time to put your mind on the task at hand.

Male approaching in three, two…

Le’Ace straightened her spine, instantly on alert.

“Another beer?” the bartender asked her impersonally.

She glanced at her bottle. Empty. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she studied the man waiting for her answer. Human. Mid-thirties. Junkie. He was shaky, track marks riding up both arms, and in desperate need of a fix. She filed that information away, knowing that she would be able to buy his help if needed.

“Ma’am,” he said.

“Yes. Another beer.”

A few seconds later, another ice-cold bottle was in her hand. The bartender flittered to the other end of the counter to help another patron. Le’Ace dismissed him and surveyed her other companions. Again. She could not remember anything she’d seen. Some were dancing, some were playing pool. Some were copping feels of themselves, others, in shadowed corners. No one stood at six feet five, had multicolored hair, and glowing emerald eyes like her Schön.

Human-alien ratio?

Twenty-three humans in front, six in back. Five aliens in front, two in back.

In back? What’s in back? She was ashamed that she’d done little recon for this mission. That kind of shoddy work could get a girl killed.

Three rooms. A bathroom.

How do you know and what are they doing?

Building has been here a long time and is in the system. As for the men, their excitement levels are high, the air thick with illegal cigarette smoke. Two weapon signals detected, probably Glocks. Eighty-seven percent chance they are playing poker.

Was the Schön back there, then? Le’Ace wondered. The thought had barely formed when the front door opened and the Schön strode in. Did I magically summon him? She knew it was him, and her jaw nearly hit the bar as she looked him over.

Her boss had tried to snap holopictures of the male, but the otherworlder’s image had never appeared. Her boss had then tried to describe him to her. “Beautiful,” he’d said. “Stunning.”

Neither word did the alien justice.

Every female gaze latched onto him, desire suddenly saturating the air. The Schön was stacked with muscle. His features were human but his skin was not. His skin looked like polished copper, metallic, not a single pore.

Le’Ace had often wondered why so many aliens possessed such humanoid appearances. She’d even read up on the subject and had come to believe they’d all been created in the same place, once upon a millennia or two. Something must have separated the people into groups, however, sending them to different, far-off places where they evolved to fit their new climates. How they reached these new planets, well, she figured they’d used the same wormholes they’d used to find Earth.

She wished to God they’d just stayed home.

When they’d first come over all those years ago, a violent blood war had erupted. Many people had died, both human and otherworlder. The planet had descended into chaos and panic, a lot of the world’s food, water, and animals nearly obliterated in the process.

Finally, for survival of the species, a tentative peace was reached and the world ceased to be what it once was: exclusive. Most everything had had to be rebuilt. Hence the New World, the need for A.I.R. and brute force. Hence the need for Le’Ace.

Back on track, woman.

Is he armed? she asked the chip.

Yes. Some type of gun, though the make and model are unclear.

Her target surveyed the room until he spotted his own prey, his gaze zeroing in on a young human woman whose ni**les appeared hard enough to cut glass. The woman was staring at him and drool seeped from the seam of her bright red lips.

Le’Ace watched as the Schön stalked toward the woman. Determined, she shoved at the man who’d been sitting beside her and told him to leave. He frowned. Until he had to look up…up…up at the alien who now stood just in front of him. Rather than challenge the otherworlder for the girl’s attention, he laughed nervously and beat a hasty retreat.

While Le’Ace was struck dumb by his mesmerizing appearance, her body did not react to him as every other woman’s had. Odd. Did he, perhaps, exude something, an undetectable scent, that drugged women? Lured them? If Le’Ace approached him, would he be able to sense her lack of interest?

The alien slid into the now unoccupied seat beside the human woman. He leaned forward and sniffed her neck. Dark eyes closed in ecstasy, heavily coated lashes fanning ribbons of black on her cheeks. The pair spoke for a moment, but even with her superattuned hearing, Le’Ace could not make out the words. The wild thump of rock music boomed too loudly.

She drew in a deep breath. Okay. I can do this. Running her tongue over her teeth, she hopped to her feet and grabbed her beer. Her dress had ridden up her thighs, but she didn’t push it down. As long as her weapons were concealed, she didn’t care how much skin she revealed.

Get in, get out. She squared her shoulders and stalked forward.

The alien sensed her approach and slowly angled his head toward her. His eyes glowed that vibrant green, pulsing with what seemed to be thousands of pinpricks of light. Those lights seemed to pierce her all the way to the soul, probing for information.

“Hey,” Le’Ace said to the human woman, and it was not a friendly greeting.

The woman’s attention never left the alien. She continued to peer at him as if he were God and he’d come for her deliverance.

Without a word, Le’Ace reached out, grabbed the woman by her bleached-blonde hair, and jerked. There was a yelp, and then the seat was empty and the woman was sprawled on the floor.

The Schön smiled at Le’Ace.

“You belong to me,” Le’Ace told him. “I don’t share.”

“Sit,” he replied.

His voice…he did not speak with one voice but with two, and there was no trace of an accent. One voice seemed to be deep, commanding, while the other was huskier. Lulling. She tried not to frown.