The Alien Huntress Series Read online

  He claimed his place on the large blue mat in the center of the gym.

  Gathering my energy, centering at last, I placed myself just inches away from him. My strength was not at the level I wanted it, but for now it would have to do. I considered my battle strategy. Focus. Keep my thoughts clear. Don’t allow an emotional reaction.

  “I won’t go easy on you,” he said. “I don’t care that you’re a woman, and I don’t care that you’re injured.”

  I’d trained with holograms more fierce and lethal than this man, so his warning didn’t frighten me in the least. “You plan to take me down all by your little self?” I laughed. “Good luck, Sparkie.”

  Uttering a low growl, he sprang at me.

  In one fluid motion, I leaned to the side, effectively avoiding impact. He whizzed past me and tripped on his own feet. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You let your anger get the better of you.”

  Pivoting, he advanced on me. I kicked him in the stomach, but that didn’t slow him. He reached me all too soon and grabbed me by the shoulders. This time I couldn’t evade him; he moved too quickly. He tossed me down, and I hit the mat with a smack. I winced at the sharp ache in my side but quickly leapt to my feet. And just like that, before I could drag in a breath, he was on me again, shoving me down, his hands wrapping around my throat to choke me.

  “You’re too slow,” he said.

  I knew that. The slower I moved, the more time my opponent had to consider his next action. I broke Lucius’s hold with a quick thrust to his elbow. Not enough strength to break his arm into two pieces, but enough to hurt. Then I kicked him in the chest, sending him stumbling backward. When he regained his momentum, he launched at me. Twisting, I sprang up and sidestepped. Gave another fluid twist. Kick.

  Contact.

  My foot slammed into his midsection, knocking the air from his lungs. As he doubled over, trying to suck in air, I lunged, elbow raised. With one downward slice, I connected with his cheekbone.

  He howled.

  I grinned. “Still too slow?”

  “Not a bad move,” he said, rubbing his cheek. After a moment of staggering, he stood to his full height. “Let’s see what else you’ve got.” He went low, spinning on his heels, at the same time performing a booted strike. Anticipating such a move, I jumped.

  Not far enough away, however.

  The heel of his boot ground into my calf. My knees knocked together, buckled, and I propelled onto my face. Cool foam met hot flesh. I lost my cockiness.

  He jumped on me, his chest pinning my face to the floor. His warm breath fanned my ear, my cheek. Everywhere his skin touched mine acted as a live wire, singeing me, making me ache—not in pain, but in lust. I had trouble drawing in a breath, but when I did, I inhaled the savageness of his scent. The wildness.

  “What should you do in this position?” he said calmly.

  I should place one palm against my cheek, then extend my other arm and roll myself over. But his long, thick fingers were surprisingly gentle as they slid down my arms, and I remained in place, doing nothing. His touch wasn’t like that of an enemy, but like that of a lover.

  An unwanted wave of need and desire crested inside me, growing hotter, hotter still. It didn’t help that he had an erection. Thick. Hard. Hot.

  He didn’t want me, I knew. Not really. Men were simply turned on by physical contact. And we’d definitely gotten physical.

  Knowing he would have desired any woman under him failed to diminish my own lust as it should have. Dark, dangerous fantasies sprang to life. Naked bodies, moans of surrender…Without thought, I arched my butt toward him, seeking more of his heat, craving deeper contact.

  And that’s when a fragrant cloud of cinnamon and honey surrounded us. The moment I smelled it, my cheeks burned a bright red and I fought frantically for release. If Lucius knew anything about Rakas, he’d know we only emitted that scent when desperately aroused.

  “Let me go,” I shouted. I couldn’t have erected a calm, cool mask if my life depended on it. “Let me go right now.” I extended my arm as I should have done earlier and tried to roll over.

  He pressed me down with more of his weight, keeping me immobile.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he barked. “Be still, woman. And when the hell did you put on that perfume?”

  He didn’t know.

  I immediately relaxed. It was one thing to desire him, but quite another for him to know about it. He seemed like the type of man who would use that against me, mock me.

  “Get off me,” I said more calmly.

  “What are you going to do if I don’t?” he asked. “I’ve got you pinned, and you know what? There’s not a damn thing you can do about it. So it looks like you’ve got yourself a bit of a problem.”

  “You think so?” I replied, nearly breathless. I had to get him off of me before I did something stupid. Like whimper…or spread my legs.

  “I do,” he said confidently. There was a pause, then, “Was I too rough?” he asked gruffly.

  I forced myself not to struggle. “I happen to like it rough.”

  “Liar.” His voice was now low and husky. Full of sexual energy. “I think you like it slow and tender.”

  My God, if he kept talking to me like that, I was going to rip off his shorts and demand he take me right here. “Damn you. Don’t you want to teach me a lesson?”

  “Maybe next time.” He paused. “When a man has you pinned like this, the best thing you can do is bite his arm and use the distraction to twist yourself around.” Before I could take his advice, he jumped off me and stood to his feet.

  Feeling strangely bereft, I wrenched to my back and kicked, swiping his feet out from under him. Down, down he tumbled. I laughed when he hit. “To do something like that?” I asked him.

  His laughter mingled with mine, the sound of it raw and genuine. He didn’t move to rise, but remained in place. “Good move.”

  “Thank you.”

  When our amusement died, he anchored one of his arms behind his neck and frowned. “I want that bastard EenLi killed. Not because it’s our assignment, but because he deserves to die.”

  I glanced over at his profile; it was as harsh and savage a view as full frontal. “You make it sound personal.”

  “Every mission is personal, but I’m sure Michael told you EenLi used to work here.”

  “He did.”

  “When he left, he killed several agents. Agents who were my friends.” Lucius turned to face me, the glint in his eyes feral, hard. “If at any time I think you’re holding me back, I swear to God I’ll kill you myself.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I’m only going to say this once.” I held up one finger, just in case he needed a visual. “I’ll speak slowly so you understand. If you hold me back, I’ll send you crying back to your mommy—cut up like a little girl.”

  Another flash of amusement played at the corners of his lips. “Good with knives, are you?”

  “Very,” I said with utter confidence.

  “Fair enough. Warning received.” Quick as a snap, he rolled on top of me and pinned my shoulders to the mat with his knees.

  I quickly brought my legs up behind him and wrapped my ankles around his neck. My thigh muscles ached when I jerked him backward. Down he went, up I went. The moment his back hit, I used the momentum to pull myself the rest of the way up and planted my elbow in his stomach.

  His breath whooshed out. “That’s the second time you’ve elbowed me,” he panted.

  “Has EenLi showed up anymore?” I asked, quickly pushing to my feet. Just for fun, I dropped and thrust my elbow into his lungs.

  “Damn it!” When he caught his breath, Lucius said, “A few more times in New Dallas. We think he murdered a human female.”

  “That’s not his usual MO. EenLi abducts, rapes, and tortures. He rarely kills. There’s no profit in a dead body.”

  “I know. I think he’s desperate and made a mistake.” Lucius spun and lashed out, his foot slamming into my forearm. Into my wound.
r />   I winced, but maintained my balance. My God, that hurt. He wanted me to cry “unfair,” but I didn’t give him the satisfaction. I leapt, whirling in the air, one fist cocked and ready. Contact. I nailed him in the temple.

  His chin whipped to the side.

  “It usually takes him months to round up the right slave candidates, since he only wants those that meet his buyers’ specifications,” I said. “Why act hastily now?”

  “From what you told Michael,” he said, dancing to the side when I came at him again, causing me to miss him, “some of his last shipment died from some sort of sickness. His buyers wouldn’t have liked that. They asked for a certain number, I’m sure, so he has to supply that exact number. And don’t forget, you killed his top man, so he’s doing some of the dirty work himself now.”

  “Makes sense.” Since the move had worked for me before, I went low, kicked out. My leg connected with his ankles. When he tumbled down, I jumped and pinned his shoulders with my knees, my crotch near his face.

  He met my eyes, then purposefully slid his gaze slid downward. “Nice view.”

  I shivered and tried to halt the new flicker of awareness sparking within me. Short, inky locks of hair spiked over his forehead, giving him a just-roused-from-bed appearance. “Look, I’m not like other women you know. I’m tougher than you think. I’ve done things and been places most people only fear.”

  “You’re still a woman,” he said, as if that explained every secret of the universe. “And you’re a Raka, the most peaceful race ever to slink their way onto this planet.”

  Slink? I should break his nose for that. “I’m a Rakan woman who kills people for a living. I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not afraid of EenLi. I will kill him.”

  An unreadable emotion glimmered in his eyes, and I wondered what he was feeling. Admiration? I wished. Doubt? Most likely.

  “Why do you choose to kill other-worlders when you yourself are an other-worlder? Isn’t that like killing your own brother?”

  “My reasons are my own and no business of yours.”

  “I’ve read your file,” he said. “No reason is mentioned.”

  Stunned, I blinked. Michael had the nerve to delete Lucius’s file so I would have to learn about him on my own, but he left my file for the man to peruse at his leisure? Fury seared me, and lightning snapped along my tongue. “Like my reasoning, my file is my business and mine alone.”

  He remained unperturbed. “I’ll be honest. You’re a contradiction, and I haven’t figured you out yet. By killing other-worlders, you protect humans,” he said, “but humans hunt your people for their golden skin.”

  “I’m as much an earthling as you are. I was born here, raised here. The fact that I’m Rakan…” I gave a stiff shrug. “You’re human. Would you kill a human if you had to?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. His eyebrows arched. “Would you?”

  “Absolutely,” I replied. “You, in particular. Some people, no matter their race or gender, are bad and need to be destroyed. That’s the only way peace will be reached.”

  Those full lips of his curved sensuously, and I had the sudden, unwelcome urge to lean down and nibble them.

  “You want to know what Michael plans for us today or what?” he asked.

  I nodded and fought a rise of color in my cheeks because I’d forgotten Michael’s dictate so easily. Stupid lust. I didn’t like this man. Remember?

  “Last night one of our agents caught Sahara Rose. She’s being held in New Dallas,” he said, not bothering to try and move me off of him. “Michael wants us to fly there and question her, get whatever information we can.”

  I nearly jumped to my feet in excitement and anticipation, but managed to remain where I was. “When do we leave?”

  “Two hours.” He clasped his hands over my thighs and squeezed. Not enough to hurt, but enough to get my attention. “I want to question her alone, which means you need to stay here.”

  I laughed. I just couldn’t help myself. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “There’s no way you’ll get answers out of her. You look about as scary as a bowl of warm honey.”

  “Looks do not determine ability,” I ground out, losing all traces of humor. I’d heard similar words my entire life. As a teenager, my spoiled, pampered self had loved that kind of statement. As an adult, and in light of my recent failure, I hated—hated!—hearing such a thing.

  “And don’t even get me started on your mouth,” he continued.

  “What about my mouth?” I asked slowly.

  “It’s a two-hundred-dollars-an-hour mouth, not a tell-me-all-your-secrets-or-I’ll-kill-you mouth.”

  “You know what?” I said. Oh, this was going to be fun. He obviously had no idea what he was about to encounter with his interrogation. “I’m willing to make a bet with you. I’ll give you ten minutes to get a single answer out of Sahara Rose. A single answer.” I’d followed the woman for days. I knew her. Lucius, with his towering build and hard-ass I-don’t-give-

  a-shit edge, would intimidate her into absolute silence.

  Wicked intent gleamed in his expression. “And when I do get an answer out of her?” he asked, both brows raised.

  “I’ll let you have my mouth for free.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Agreed.”

  “Don’t you want to know what I get if you fail?”

  “I don’t plan to fail.”

  “You still have to offer me something I want.”

  Now he hesitated. “What?” he asked suspiciously.

  “When your ten minutes are up, I want you to step aside and shut the hell up. I’ll get the information we need. Afterward, you’re going to get on your knees and praise my ability.”

  His lips stretched to a full, anticipatory grin. “Agreed. But get ready, cookie.” He lifted up, getting so close I felt the warmth of his breath on my face. “I want your mouth all over me.”

  Chapter

  4

  I want your mouth all over me.

  I tried not to think about Lucius’s parting words as I luxuriated in the softness and decadence of Michael’s private ITS—Ionic Transport System—a jet that ran on vibrations of subparticle strings of energy rather than gasoline. Complete with four laser cannons and retractable wings. I tried not to imagine my mouth devouring Lucius’s hard, muscled body, his moans of pleasure in my ears, his hands gripping my hair, the taste of him teasing my tongue.

  Unfortunately, I thought of little else and spent nearly every moment of the flight to New Dallas lost in a sensual haze. The cloying scent of honey still wafted from me—and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. At least Lucius hadn’t mentioned my ‘perfume’ again. I might die of acute mortification if he did—I could even picture the headline of my obituary:

  “Alien Assassin Survives Antique Gunshot, Laser, Knife Wounds, Poison, and Explosion, Only to Succumb to the Stupid-ass Comment of a Human Male.”

  I pushed out a breath and settled deeper into the plush leather seat. The private, luxury ITS offered a smooth ride, a lavish sapphire couch and a gilded table. If it weren’t for the panoramic view of white clouds and blue sky, I might have convinced myself I lounged at home, reflecting on the success of my last mission.

  Instead, here I was. A failure. Partnered. Lusting after a human.

  Rakas were sensual by nature. Creatures of peace, pleasure, and decadence—qualities I’d battled for many years, and thought I had conquered. Or rather, killed, along with all of my victims.

  I sighed. I hadn’t set out to become an assassin. I asked to train with Michael and his agents simply to spend more time with my father. To impress him. He respected his men, and I’d wanted that respect for myself. Wanted to be more than his spoiled, pampered, lazy daughter—something he’d been teased about often. He’d never complained, had actually taken pleasure in indulging me, but I had begun to notice the difference between his men and me.

  Reluctantly Michael agreed to let me participate. Throughout tra
ining, I was pushed as hard as the men. I fought, I hunted, I learned the intricacies of weapons. Afterward, I watched my male counterparts leave and return from assignments while I remained behind. I heard them discuss the atrocities being committed by their targets, and I felt their pride at protecting those weaker than themselves.

  Becoming an agent soon became my real goal. As the days passed, it was less about Michael and more about me. What I could do to help.

  Finally Michael allowed me a chance to prove myself. That first kill had been less difficult than I’d expected. Less difficult than everyone expected. I was a Raka, sensual, a peace lover, true, but I had easily taken life. That’s when I realized the destruction of evil was a sensual dance and my means of keeping the peace. Killing was my nature.

  Lucius stretched out his long, thick legs, eating my personal space. He sat across from me, no part of our bodies touching. Still, I felt the heat of him, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like him, period. He upset my inner balance. An inner balance I desperately needed. After all, I destroyed aliens and humans for a living, violently, without thought or regret. One single distraction could get me killed.

  I knew that. I did. Yet here I was, consumed by a man who made me ache in ways that had nothing to do with physical injuries.

  I stole a quick glance at him, my gaze locking on his lips. Though pink and lush, they somehow appeared hard just then. Abrasive. Just like the rest of him. But I didn’t think they’d be hard when kissing a woman. No, they’d be tender and silky. Hot. Perfect. Utterly perfect.

  A man who looked like he did, comprised of razors and nails, muscle and sinew, belonged in wars. Not on top of a woman, giving untold pleasure. And yet I’d be willing to bet he excelled at both. Not that I would ever find out first hand.

  Shifting to the side, I allowed myself to take in the rest of him. The change in his appearance still surprised me. The man had somehow transformed himself before leaving New Mexico. After our innocent tussle in Michael’s basement gym, we’d gone our separate ways to shower and change clothes. Lucius had emerged with his dark hair bleached completely white, his left eyebrow pierced, and the base of his throat sporting a skull tattoo. He looked sexy as hell.