He needed a distraction or he’d come in his armor.
“She’s altered,” he said as Dassenze and Brask unlocked, stripped off, and dropped armor sections at his feet.
Brittany raised a hand to her face, pride showing in her smile. “It means I’m yours…more?”
Jadd growled. “Yes.”
“He and you are bond mates,” Dassenze explained. “I saw the early changes. You have cheek grooves, as does he. Small ones but true. It’s why you are both so eager to touch. I don’t yet comprehend why you’ve bonded like this and I’ll be watching for further strange reactions from the women of this world. But this is a vital time for you both. Now…” He took off the last armor piece. “You can touch.”
At last he could hold her properly. Jadd took her in his arms and went to the one thing still intact in the room. The bed. He sat on it with her curled up to him in his lap.
“Out. Please.” He indicated with his eyes. Brask and Dassenze filed out and closed the door. Rather futile that, since much of the wall was missing, but it would do.
A single other creature had remained in the room. He arched an eyebrow at it. “Leave, dog.”
Popstar lay on a cushion, watching them. He pricked his ears forward and gave a bark of approval.
“He’s okay,” Brittany mumbled. She found Jadd’s hand at her shoulder and played with his fingers.
“Brittany.” He sighed, nuzzling her hair with his nose. “Mine. All mine.”
“You’re mine too,” she murmured. No doubt in there, just her claiming him.
“Yes.”
She peeked at him through a dangling lock of twirled hair. “I have a sister, Talia. Will she be okay now? The Earth isn’t going to be destroyed?”
“No. It’s not.”
“I saw some of your blue spaceship up there, in the sky, blasting away with some horrible weapon. I only saw bits of it.” Her voice trailed off. “It was incredible. Huge. The building shook. I can’t believe everyone else will forget that, except me.”
Disturbed at her anxiety, he squeezed her and synchronized his breathing. It was a sure way to calm a mate. “Did you want to ask me something?”
“Are you sure Talia will be okay?”
“I would think so. I’m hoping we can stay here together. Though you’ll have to be at our base,” he tucked that twirl of hair aside, “You might be able to see her, even if you can’t meet.”
“Oh. I’m going to miss talking to her. Sucks.” She shut her eyes then bowed her head.
It seemed as if she hadn’t thought this through. The need to be with him had probably occupied her every thought for so long and he was an alien.
“I want to make this as easy for you as I can. You know that?”
She nodded and looked at him hopefully.
“Brittany, you’ve saved your world. Take pride in that. It will be a Hunting Ground for several years, but your people seem likely to be starfarers one day.”
“I guess. Starfarers. We’re going to other stars, planets? So odd. And all I did was be me. But I’m…I’m not sure how I feel about the other. Women being hunted. It was different with you and me.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it. It will happen. Once caught and made pets, they’ll be well treated.”
“It’s going to take me a while to get my head around all of this.”
He wished so much that he could fix the sadness on her face. She seemed lost. He kissed her tenderly. “We’ll get through it together. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”
“Jadd?”
“Yes?”
“They won’t separate us now?”
“No.” Her question pleased him. “Dassenze promised me absolution and we’re bond mates. I’ve got you forever. Shush now. I want to just be here, with you.”
He kissed her sweetly on her soft lips, then cuddled her, touching her with as much of his skin as he could, surrounding her. Keeping her safe. With the Bak-lal gone from the Earth, he had time to decide what to do about her magic. If that was what it was.
He swallowed and blinked, and breathed, his chest rising as hers did, falling as hers did.
He was at last content. The world settled into place, like warm rain misting a silent field of grass, and became…perfect. His heart and hers were one.
Epilogue
Talia Wolfe squatted among the dust and a few bird droppings. The pigeons had made their home here already. After her sob-story and a small bribe, one of the rescue crew had let her in. She used the katana to scratch an arc in the rubble. The huge gap in the wall and the missing balcony made this seem unfamiliar, as if it wasn’t even Brittany’s place.
Slowly she rose, feeling the skintight black jeans grip her tightly. She squirmed a little as pleasant sensations throbbed outward. Ugh. There was an odd vibe in the air here, almost sexual. It clashed horribly with the sadness.
Talia shook her head, tilted her neck back to strive to stop the flow of tears, but they ran down her face anyway. She coughed and swallowed, wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
Stop crying. Crying wasn’t helping.
She might be a lab person and not a field investigator, but she wasn’t giving up on finding out what had really happened here. Her baby sister was missing and no way was she ever presuming her dead.
“I’ll find out what happened to you, Brit, if I have to tear this whole fucking building apart to find clues.”
She stepped up to the hole and looked down at the organized chaos below. Sirens whooped and wailed in the distance. People in orange jackets worked with cranes and trucks to shift rubble and save people. This had been an earthquake?
She stuck the sword into the floor and leaned on it a little, refreshed by the gusts flailing at the building and cooling her face. Absolute sacrilege to use a sword so, but who was going to chastise her?
“I’m finding you, sis. I am.”
A scrabbling made her swivel to the side. A man crouched there, drool dripping from his mouth. He’d somehow scrambled up from below. That whole corner of the apartment was gone.
He coughed and spat blood, swayed. A pistol swung in one lowered hand. That alone made her wary, let alone the drool and spaced-out look. She unwedged the sword from the floor, raised it a tad.
No need to panic. Even if he’s got a pistol, and I’ve got a bloody sword. Ever since she was a teen she’d had a knack with pointy things, and could make them do stuff no one else could.
With the rioting and unrest below, she figured she had a right to be straightforward, especially when he took a staggery step toward her and his arm began to swing up.
“Don’t do anything, mister. I don’t know you.” The hoarse tone must have impressed him. He paused and looked back with narrowing eyes. If only her students were as well behaved. “Good. You keep yours down and I’ll keep mine. I suggest you leave now –”
He chuckled low and from the twitch of his wrist he was going to raise that gun and aim at her.
Fuck. Her bluff was called.
Practicing kendo and her innate talent meant she could theoretically kill. If you forgot he was a person. Too far to reach with a swing. She’d have to throw. A knife, yes, but a sword – a full sword? Something, a weird zing in the air here, grabbed her, made her think she could do this.
She swept up the sword, leaning and twisting to the side to gain momentum for the throw.
Then someone dropped from the hole in the roof, landing between her and droolman, dark coat swirling like a fucking superhero. She swore. The floor shuddered at the sudden weight. Something cracked even. Was he that heavy? Or the floor that weak?
A flurry of blows and she stepped to the side, watching their little fight, hearing the grunts. The new guy was big and mean, and didn’t hold back his strikes at all. Neither did drooly man. The pistol went flying, so did a small sword… What the fuck? Who else but her used a sword? Then drooly man poised another knife above the guy ready to drive it into the juncture of neck and shoulder. Instant death
zone.
No. She really didn’t want him, her would-be rescuer, to die.
She gulped, and threw. Knew it was a thousand to one. A trillion to one. Impossible. Wasn’t a straight throw. Men were in the way, like the big guy. She had to go and bounce it off things like the wall to the left. It was a fucking hard ricochet, an incredibly stupid throw. The blade whipped round, hit wall, spun, bounced and flew.
Impossible, incredible, doable.
The blade sank, all two feet of shiny, pointy metal, into drool man’s side. Heart level. He gasped once and froze at the same time as there was a whoompfh, and much of him turned into particle-sized bits of flesh. The cloud of red splattered across what was left of the corner of the room.
Big guy let the remains of his opponent slide to the floor and he turned to her, empty hand emerging from his coat. His mint green eyes glinted.
“What the fuck was that?” She frowned. He’d shot the guy with something, hadn’t he?
Damn. What was he? His face looked like someone had used him for carving practice then painted it blue. As he came toward her, she stepped back, wishing her sword wasn’t currently residing in a mangled corpse. Her heel hit something hard and she stopped. “Who are you?”
“Brask. Who are you?”
She guessed it was okay to answer. “Talia Wolfe, I’m looking for my sister, Brittany. Though seeing you just killed someone that might take priority.”
“She’s not here.”
“Obviously. I’m glad I saved you.”
He grunted.
Ungrateful imbecile. She felt in the pocket of her jacket, hoping to find a weapon, and only came up with some origami paper. Sometimes, in deep dreams, she imagined herself with a sword of paper that cut anything. Boy, could she use one of them now.
Brask was wide enough to blot out the sun. And that blue war paint made him seem worse. Not that his semi-spiky blond hairdo wasn’t scary too. Where did he get his make-up and hair styling done?
“Who was that?” She twitched her head at the dead man, and managed to keep down breakfast. Jeez. She could clamp down on her emotions, but he was a mess and enough to upset anyone not tranquilized.
“A Bak-lal clone.” At her frown Brask gave her a mirthless smile. “Recon observed him climb up out of the collapsed building next to us. He was a killer, made by an alien. He should be the last one.”
Was he crazy? “That’s some wild story.” Or was it that wild? Things, here, now, felt so odd. Like anything could happen.
He shrugged and made as if to come closer.
“Stop right there.” She held out her palm.
And he grabbed it, twisted her wrist, stepped in fast, and clasped her neck in his other hand.
He glared. Green eyes. Big green eyes. A flash shocked her to her very bones, tinkling through her like broken glass. As she crumpled, she was distantly aware of him catching her, along with a ringing in her ears that swept her body. Goose bumps rose and her hair stood on end.
“Sleep,” he whispered. “Forget, pretty girl.” His hand brushed her cheek, scraping her skin yet gentle. “I’m sorry I had to do this. I wish…”
Wish what?
She rallied, blinking and frowning at the blurred face. “What?”
“Still with me? Huh.”
The flash came again.
Bastard. She felt her eyes roll up. Her hand encountered someone’s hard-muscled shoulder and slid. Through the fog in her mind, his delicious male scent registered. She opened her eyes again.
“What are you? I need to do this three times?”
Flash.
Words drifted by. “I swear, if you were on the death list, and I was allowed on a Hunt –” The voice dulled then faded back in. “– and make you my pet.”
A strange rapture possessed her, where she became him and he melted into her. And then, she forgot…
*****
On the other side of the continent of Australia, something long buried stirred, and listened to the signals from its killed sister queen. Now, it decided, would be a good time to fire up the stagnant engines and set out a plan of conquest.
The End
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Books by Cari Silverwood
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Also by Cari Silverwood
Preyfinders Series
Precious Sacrifice
Intimidator
Pierced Hearts Series (Dark erotic fiction)
Take me, Break me
Bind and Keep me
Make me Yours Evermore
The Badass Brats Series (Co-written with Leia Shaw and Sorcha Black)
The Dom with a Safeword
The Dom on the Naughty List
The Dom with the Perfect Brats
The Dom with the Clever Tongue
The Dom with the Kink Monsters (Though 5th in the series, this book is written by Sorcha Black)
Cataclysm Blues Series
Cataclysm Blues (A free erotic scifi novella. Currently being turned into a trilogy)
The Steamwork Chronicles Series
Iron Dominance
Lust Plague
Steel Dominance
Others
31 Flavors of Kink
Three Days of Dominance
Rough Surrender (Being re-released by Momentum, an eBook branch of Pan Macmillan)
An excerpt from Squirm, an erotic parody
Releasing in May, 2014
- virgin captive of the billionaire biker tentacle monster
Chapter 1
Virginia swept back her long blonde hair and smiled as enticingly as she could at the man on the other side of the chain mesh gate. Her little black dress was fine but the six inch red stilettos were going to kill her any second. He grinned back, anchoring his fingers high in the mesh, leaning on the gate, and exuding eau de biker. The muscle of his flexed and tattooed bicep shone under the florescent light.
“C’mon in. We don’t bite much. Name’s Jace.”
She breathed in again, swooned, then swiftly recovered and slipped past Jace into the garage.
Eau de Biker. Mmm. Oil, leather, and beer smells always did it to her. Her panties had wet through in an instant.
But, she had a job to do.
The garage was dark, dingy and filled with testosterone-hyped tatted up bikers. They roamed across the concrete floor checking out the chromed bikes like a pack of thirsty hungry snakes let loose on a Sunday picnic of virginal squeaky mice.
She shook her head, knowing she’d imagined that with way too many adjectives. Sometimes her imagination went a little ga ga.
Past the knowledge that she was here to look for Cyndie, she wondered, ever so hopefully, if among these men she would find her holy grail – what she’d been saving herself for from the day she opened the pages of her first romance novel – the man with the ten inch purple-headed schlong.
Fabio with his flowing locks could take a hike.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgement
About Precious Sacrifice
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Also by Cari Silverwood
An excerpt from Squirm, an erotic parody
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