Enslave Me Sweetly (Alien Huntress #2)(57)
Author: Gena Showalter

Unexpectedly, the fog lifted. “What’s happening?” I asked, dazed.

The Targon blinked in surprise. “You have mental shields, though they are not very strong.” He sighed, and I froze in place once again. He withdrew a small vial from his pocket, pushed my hair out of my face, and forced the contents down my throat. I choked it back, but it was too late to spit out the bitter liquid. I knew the moment the taste of it hit my tongue that it wasn’t an opiate like Cologne had given me.

This man had done his homework on Rakas. He knew the human medicine called antihistamine, when mixed with alcohol, knocked us out every time. When lethargy hit me, it hit swiftly and full force. The last picture to drift through my mind was of Lucius, covered in his own blood.

Chapter 23

The image of Lucius’s strong vibrant body, bloody and lifeless, slammed past a black fog of lethargy and into my mind. “Lucius!” I screamed. The sound of his name echoed all around me.

“Welcome to Targon,” whispered through my mind.

Targon. No. No! My eyelids popped open. My breath was coming in short, erratic pants, like I’d just run a marathon uphill. I searched for another person, but saw no one. Had I been dreaming…a nightmare, perhaps? No. I bit my bottom lip, creating a sharp sting and a bead of blood. Lucius had really been shot. I remembered the auction for me and the booming sound of Jonathan’s gun being fired, remembered the metallic smell of human blood.

Lucius, I thought, a wave of panic overtaking me. I had to get to him. He was now injured and defenseless in a house full of EenLi’s guards, and no one knew he was there but me. I wouldnot allow myself to think of him as…No, I wouldn’t.

The women, too, were helpless. I had to save them.

I jerked upright, taking the soft white comforter draping my body with me. My gaze shot throughout the room. Unfamiliar. Wide and open. White gauze billowed from the many windows and doors. I was seated on a white pallet of velvetlike cushions. There were no guards posted that I could see.

Where the hell was I?

Targon…

I wasn’t sure if the isotope I’d ingested had traced me here, and there wasn’t time to find out. An other-world rescue seemed impossible, anyway, since we did not have all the facts about solar flares. No, I’d have to free myself. Quickly.

God, I needed to get home.

I shoved my way out from the covers and stood. My legs were shaky, making me wonder just how long I’d been asleep. At least the Targon hadn’t stripped me. He’d left me in the pink harem costume. I reached up, but the necklace he’d thrown at me was gone. I needed it to pass through a solar flare. Where was it?

Breathing a deep inhalation of sweet, flowery air, I scanned the spacious room again. Would he have hidden the necklace in a fruit bowl? No. Empty. A drawer…maybe he had tucked it inside. I bounded forward, but skidded to a stop when I heard him speak.

“I am so happy you are, at last, awake,” his rich, sensual voice said from behind me.

I spun around. The Targon leaned against one of the large entryways, white lace dancing from the windows and over his bare legs. His eyes swirled with a life all their own; his dark hair flowed around his shoulders, the sides hooked behind his ears. I could see that his ears were pointy, like the magical Fae in children’s stories. He wore some type of black Scottish-looking kilt and no shirt.

“Give me the necklace and take me back,” I demanded.

Hetsked under his tongue. “We haven’t been properly introduced. You are Eden Black, other-worlder interpreter and government agent. I am Devyn Cambrii, king of this land.”

King.The freaking king. I knew a little about Targon history. A king was appointed not by birth but by telekinetic strength. A thousand tiny knots twisted my stomach. I was weaponless, and my opponent had the power to freeze me in place. How the hell could I fight him?

“Please,” I said, the word escaping through scowling lips. “Take me back.”

“It has taken EenLi over a year to find me a Raka,” he replied. “I’m sorry, sweet angel, but the only place I will be taking you is my bed.”

My fists clenched at my sides. “And if I refuse?”

His lips twitched, and amusement twinkled in his too-amber eyes. “Your refusal will not be a problem.”

No, it wouldn’t, I thought darkly. He’d already proven his ability quite nicely. If he decided to freeze me and rape me, there would be nothing I could do to stop him from doing so. I refused to show him an outward reaction to that comment, however. If he thrived on female fear, he might become aroused.

“Why a Raka?” I asked to keep him talking. I lifted my chin. “There’s nothing special about my race.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.”

“Because of the gold?”

He chuckled richly. “I am not human. Gold means nothing to me.”

“Then why?”

“I’ve never tasted a Raka. There are so few of you on Earth because those silly humans are greedy. And outsiders are not allowed on the planet Raka. Which is a shame, really. I could have feasted for months had I been allowed entry.” His voice lowered one octave. “I’ve wanted to taste a Raka for a long, long time.”

I arched a brow, feigning nonchalance. “Tasted in passion? Or as dinner?”

He laughed again, his features softening. The woman in me appreciated his masculine beauty, his male sensuality. But he wasn’t Lucius. I would have no man but Lucius. In our short time together, I’d learned to respect and like him. I’d desired him constantly. He meant something to me. What, I didn’t know. I just knew that hedid matter.

“Passion, of course,” the Targon said. “I’ve sampled women from across the galaxies. I’m in need of something different. Something unique.” He straightened and slowly moved toward me.

“Stop,” I shouted, bending my knees and preparing for battle.

Surprisingly, he did. He remained a safe distance away as his gaze traveled the length of me. “I only wish to know if you are as soft to my touch as you look. Surely you will not deny me a simple touch.”

“I deny you the right to even breathe in my direction.”

“Your resistance is adorable, so I will grant your request and not touch you. For now.”

“Thank you,” I said, my tone dry.

“You are welcome.” He grinned at me. “I am glad to add you to my collection.”

“Your collection?”

“Oh, yes. I love women, you see. I love their softness, their complexities, their scents, and have decided to sample a woman of every color, race, and size.”