Seduce the Darkness (Alien Huntress #4)(7)
Author: Gena Showalter

They’d spent several weeks with him, and they’d told him much about their society. Very archaic, he thought, much like his own world had been. There was a royal family, and everyone else lived to serve them. Those who broke the rules were harshly punished. He wondered if the current vampire king knew of Bride’s whereabouts.

Surely not. Living among the mortals was forbidden because it could leak the secret of their existence, bringing humans and otherworlders to their door. Perhaps war. If little Bride was discovered, she would most likely be killed for placing her brethren in danger. Oh, well. It wasn’t his problem.

Devyn turned a corner, his friend’s apartment building coming into view. One of the newer structures, it boasted sturdy stone and metal that could withstand fire and air strikes long enough for the people inside to evacuate safely. Not much to look at, but the people of Earth cared more about safety than aesthetics now. After they’d fought the war of the species, he couldn’t blame them, though he did prefer the open beauty of his own planet, Targonia.

A planet he could return to, and often did, but one he no longer ruled. Thank God. Oh, he still had his title, still had his army, but as interplanetary travel had become more prevalent, his people had been introduced to life without a monarchy. Some had wanted to leave, travel the galaxies through interworld wormholes, while some had wanted to stay, but all had wanted to govern their own lives. So he’d let them, because he’d been tired, so tired, of ruling. Of being an example of all that was "pure."

Not that they’d seen much of his purity those last few years.

Now, he spent most of his time here on Earth. Helping AIR. At one time, an alien aiding the very people who policed them would have been laughable. But over the past year, the powers that be had realized the only way to control certain dominant races was with, well, certain dominant races.

AIR liked having Devyn on their side, and they paid him very well. Though the money wasn’t the reason he stuck around. He didn’t need it. Being king came with certain privileges, and one of those was the cash to set himself up on whatever planet he desired in the style he was accustomed. He stuck around because of the agents he worked with. Eden, of course, was included in their numbers.

For the first time in his vast existence, he was treated as an equal. No one lived their life based on what he said or did. No one was scandalized or humiliated by the actions of him and his "beast." No one bowed to him—except the females, when he asked. Excluding Eden Black. And probably Bride. Damn it. He had to stop thinking about her. She was gone, out of reach.

Here, he wasn’t a leader, an example, or a marital prize. He was simply a man who enjoyed sex, fighting, and freedom. In that order.

Sex. The single word elicited an image of black-as-night hair, eyes of brilliant green fire, lips stained red with blood. Every muscle in his body hardened. Did no good, trying to keep her from his mind. Why’d the little firecracker have to be a vampire? Variety was the only thing that kept him sane, the only thing that kept the pain of his palace days, of being denied everything, beaten to the back of his mind.

He stomped up the steps and entered Dallas’s building, the cool night air giving way to warmth and laden with the scent of lemon cleaner. There was a lounge area complete with two chocolate colored couches and a matching chair, a coffee table and a cream-colored rug.

Not the wisest of choices, as the pale fabric was already stained with dirt. Dirt. He shuddered. He was a clean freak and wasn’t ashamed of it, even though he knew the preference stemmed from the frightened, cowed, utterly repressed boy he’d once been.

Behind the half-moon desk of monitors, the security guard nodded, clearly expecting him, allowing him to pass without a word. As he pounded up the stairs to the fifth floor—no cramped elevator for him, thank you—he enjoyed the burn in his thighs. Physical exertion of any kind was always a pleasure.

A pretty girl, probably in her early twenties, stopped and gaped when she spotted him. She was human, with pale hair and brown eyes. A little plump, but he liked and welcomed all shapes and sizes, all colors and consenting ages. If he. hadn’t sampled the race before, that is. Sadly, it was becoming harder and harder—not in the literal sense, unfortunately—to find new bed partners.

"Hi," she said, a little breathless.

He nodded in greeting, but didn’t smile, didn’t flirt. No reason to lead her on. Like vampires, even lovely, colorful, tease-just-right vampires, he’d already had his fill of human females. They were boring. "Whacking off," as Dallas would say, was more fun.

Her gaze bored into his back all the way down the hall. Maybe that was because he’d frozen her in place. He never gave his back to a person without doing so. It was habit now, from his palace days when rebels would have done anything to cleave his head from his body. Or maybe it was because she was imagining him naked and would have raced over to flirt with him if allowed. Either way, he freed her only when he was in front of Dallas’s door and she had his profile.

Dallas Gutierrez was already standing in the opened entry, eyes narrowed, arms stretched out to block Devyn’s forward progress. He was a handsome man with dark hair, dark skin, and eyes so pale a blue they were almost translucent. He wasn’t quite as tall as Devyn, but was just as bulked with muscle.

"You’re late," Dallas said, clearly irritated. "The girls have already left."

"I know. I ran into Macy, Mishka, and Mia a few blocks down. And my God, that’s a lot of M’s." Apologizing would have meant he regretted where he’d been and how long he’d taken, and he didn’t. "Security call and let you know I was on my way up?"

"No." There was a wealth of resentment in that one word.

Which meant Dallas’s psychic abilities were growing stronger—abilities the agent had only recently acquired and despised with every ounce of his being. The more powerful his abilities, the less breakable his bond to the alien responsible for them.

A while back, Dallas had been shot with pyre-fire. There’d been a hole in his chest, his skin and organs charred and unable to regenerate. Kyrin en Arr, an Arcadian king, had sliced his own wrist and fed Dallas his blood. That blood had saved Dallas’s life, causing his body to supernaturally heal. And now, Devyn knew, as he saw a future he’d never been able to see before, Dallas feared the blood inside him was turning him into an alien.

"Aw, you sensed me," Devyn said to lighten the mood. "I’m touched. I wonder if that means we’re meant to be together forever."

"Fuck you."

"Proof we aren’t really meant to be together, I suppose. My mate would never talk to me like that." Dallas bared his perfect white teeth in a scowl. "Can you take nothing seriously?"