Warrior Enflamed: Alien Warrior Science Fiction Romance (Archans of Ailaut Book 2)

by S. A. Ravel

  She could tell by the blank expression on his face that the answer was no. “Theft on the scale I have in mind would look suspicious. Can’t have the red wings checking too deeply into my affairs. But taking one or two over time and documenting them for replication… now that’s useful. After cataloging, the pieces can be returned to the museum. No crying children necessary.”

  Perrine didn’t believe for a second that he cared about crying children, or Davin, or AINA, or even her. Which bore fruit and which went belly up didn’t matter to him. Which one he wanted most changed by the minute.

  “Davin may be crazy, but he’s not stupid. He’s going to know something is up.”

  “I’m sure you are more than capable of using your many talents to distract him.”

  That’s as close as you’re going to get to calling me a slut, you cauchemar de la mère.

  Madson’s lack of respect for her was the least of Perrine’s worries. Once again, he backed her into a corner. Davin was her only hope of getting the money she needed. Did it really matter how he did it?

  But Perrine wasn’t stupid enough to trust Lans Madson. She needed something firm. “Define your terms.”

  A cold smile spread over Madson’s lips. “You’re learning. As a test run, you lead a team of my choosing into the Institute at a time of your choosing. They will do a dry run to prove it can work.”

  “And if it can?”

  “Then you do it until the project generates the money to buy out your debt and I’ll cut the interest payments by half. That should give you enough extra cash for repairs. I’d hate for the island to lose such a fine establishment.”

  “How long until you call the principal?”

  “Six months, but if it works as effectively as my numbers suggest, it could be as little as three.”

  Three months until she was free of Lans Madson forever. Three months in which she wouldn’t have to climb into bed with him.

  Perrine tilted the nozzle of her pistol up, aiming it at Madson’s head. “How do I know you won’t come up with another bullshit reason to make it go longer?”

  Lans slid his hands into his pockets casually. “Because if I back out, you’ll make sure everyone knows. If you don’t, your father will. Nobody will do business with me, and that would disappoint my associates, and they don’t handle disappointment well.”

  None of it was true. Lans’ backer was the biggest player in the world of underground finance. He kept the money flowing through the Pleasure District, and sooner or later he dipped into everyone’s pocket. One didn’t have a choice if one wanted to do business there. She could shout his impending double cross from the steps of the Skyhall and nothing would happen to him. He still had her backed into a corner, and they both knew it.

  “Fair enough,” she said. “Now get out before I shoot you.”

  No matter how tired she was, there was no chance of Perrine falling back asleep after Lans Madson’s house visit. Rather than lay in bed staring at the ceiling, she got up, showered. On a regular night, Perrine would put on her full look, the armor of glamor she used to advertise Parodie everywhere she went. That night, she didn’t go all out.

  The sun had gone down by the time she got back to the Institute, but the main building hummed with activity from tourists and students, still examining the priceless work inside. Perrine didn’t bother going through the main building. Davin’s flight had given her a bird’s eye view of the grounds, and she knew how to get back to his private residence without going through the main building. How exactly she knew that she would find him sitting in his courtyard staring up at the stars, she couldn’t explain.

  At first, he didn’t acknowledge her presence, opting to continue watching the night sky instead. Perrine didn’t blame him. Amazing sex, nightclub brawls, stolen kisses. Their simple little arrangement had become mighty complicated over the last few hours. Who wanted to sit down and unpack all of that?

  When he finally did speak up, it was with the casual tone someone might use in the middle of a long conversation. “I didn’t expect you to come back.”

  Don’t rush. Don’t act like anything is wrong. “I wasn’t sure about it, to be honest. But I’m kind of running out of options.”

  “Honesty. Yes, that might be the best way to go forward.” He unfurled his wings and flapped them, using the lift to rise into a standing position. “Who were those men?”

  It would have been easy to lie, and probably safer in the long run. But when she opened her mouth to speak, the false words wouldn’t come out. She’d lied to people before; her entire image was a mass of fantasies and half truths. There was no reason for Perrine to find it hard to lie to Davin… but it was. So, she tried to find the happy medium.

  “Employees of a business associate I’m having a disagreement with.”

  Davin raised an eyebrow and stepped toward her, his bare feet crushing the grass as he moved. “Do your business associates always send henchmen with weapons to prove their point for them?”

  “Sugah, it happens more than you would think.” She shrugged a shoulder. “C’est le jeu que nous jouons.”

  “I only play games when I know I can cheat. Are you in trouble?”

  That was the last question she wanted him to ask because it was the main one she couldn’t give an honest answer to.

  She held a hand up, stopping him before he could ask another question. “The less you know about all of that the better. You’re a good man, Davin.” She didn’t gag on the words. “A good man like you will want to get the Red Wings involved.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  Perrine raked her fingers through her hair. Of course, he didn’t understand. “For someone like you? Nothing. To someone like me, it could mean the difference between someone owning me and having my freedom.”

  Davin held up a finger, the tip aimed at the stars. He held it there until Perrine shifted her eyes to focus on the digit, then he reached forward and caressed her skin. A wave of pleasure spread through her body, from the skin beneath his touch, all the way to the juncture of her thighs.

  It’s just an echo, a memory. It doesn’t mean anything.

  Maybe if she kept telling herself that, it would make it easier to help Lans steal from Davin. Perrine couldn’t wrestle with the moral implications of suddenly having morals; she was trying to hide the fact that his touch aroused her.

  Even so, Davin wasn’t fooled. His lips turned up at the corners, but his brow moved downward. “You have to fight your own desires… and you think you’re free. You are a funny girl.”

  And for the second time since they’d met, a shimmery connection manifested between them. She could almost hear his thoughts, see through his eyes.

  Oh, no. She wasn’t havin’ none of that, no.

  Perrine grabbed Davin’s finger and pulled it away from her skin. She’d had enough of men who barely knew her telling her how she should feel and what she should do. And, even though she would have loved to guide Davin’s talented fingers to other parts of her body, she had too much pride to let his challenge go without response.

  “Fucking me doesn’t give you access to my mind. You don’t know me any better than you did this morning.”

  “I disagree,” he said, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, his nearness making her shiver. “I know how you feel. How you taste. Every detail of your body when you climax… and the way your eyes look when you’re lying through your pretty little teeth.”

  Perrine tried to keep her expression neutral, but she knew it was a losing battle. His smile mocked her—and why should it not? He was the ultimate liar, a playboy, a magician who had a city of elite patrons hanging on his every breath. He’d crafted an image as surely as she had crafted hers. If anyone would see through her lies, it would be him.

  They deserved each other.

  “I wouldn’t lie to you about anything important,” she lied. “But some things, you don’t need to know. It is… easier for me, that way.”

  He s
tudied her. “What long game are you playing, Perrine Despre?” he asked, voice soft. Like death. “What con are you running?”

  She forced her jaw to relax. Davin was too good at reading her. She didn’t know how much was his age and experience and how much was a result of the developing connection between them. And she couldn’t contradict him because he was right. She was avoiding the truth. Who wouldn’t in her position? The truth was she was out of options and almost out of time. The truth was she liked the world Davin lived in, but it wasn’t hers. Her world was built on passion and vice, fantasy and ecstasy. Keeping it going depended on her getting close to Davin…so she could help a man she hated rob him blind.

  The truth was… she wanted so damned badly to confess the whole thing to him, that she couldn’t open her mouth. The second her lips parted, all of it would come rushing out in a breathless flood of words. Confession might feel good, for a moment or two, but the chaos that would follow would rip her family’s life apart. So, Perrine didn’t say anything at all.

  Davin took her hand. “Never mind, I can see the truth is about to make your head explode, and I can’t risk it taking your voice with it. Come with me.”

  Perrine resisted. “Where?”

  “I arranged a surprise, in case you came back.”

  10

  He led her out of the courtyard into the wilder areas of the Institute grounds. At first, Perrine couldn’t figure out why he led her on foot, instead of picking her up and flying there with her. Then it occurred to her that, even in an Aikalah city, flying over such a short distance would draw attention. He must have wanted to get to their destination without notice.

  Their path ended at a courtyard, smaller than either of the other ones she had seen, and paved with sandy gray flagstones. The stones were laid in a swirling pattern, each curve emanating outward from a fountain at the center. No grass grew between the flagstones, yet judging by the empty fountain and rough landscaping, the area hadn’t seen regular use in quite a while. At least, not until that day. Someone had set up a workspace for Davin, complete with freshly stretched canvas and the box of paints. They also brought out a small, portable piano. Solar lights strung in the trees, bathed the courtyard in warm light.

  “You were right before, about the change of scenery. The practice studio is all right, but I thought this would be more inspiring.”

  “I was only half right. It only worked for me, remember?” Even so, Perrine took her place behind the piano and swept her fingers over the keys. “I have a question.”

  He waited, and she forced herself to look up, meet his eyes. And taking a deep breath… relaxed whatever mental hold she’d had on herself. Whatever inadvertent barriers. Because she needed to know the truth.

  And as soon as she willed it, he was there, on the edges of her mind. “So,” she said, softly. “I’m not imagining things.”

  Davingelo didn’t move. For once there was no mocking smile. His regard was steady, weighty.

  “What’s happening?” she asked, picking out a light tune on the keys.

  “Nothing I intended, but I suppose the joke is on us both.” His mind drew closer and Perrine flinched back. His presence paused, faded away, and he smiled. “We’re mating, like Aikalah of old, though I hadn’t known it was possible with an alien.”

  “Mating?” She didn’t recognize the word he used. “What does that mean?”

  “It means, Perrine, that you cannot get rid of me even if I wanted you to. It means, songbird, that there will be consequences to us both if we fight the bond.”

  Her fingers stilled. “I didn’t want this.” She closed her mind, drawing away gently. She didn’t want to hurt him, but... she had secrets. And even though it didn’t seem as if he could actually read her thoughts, at least not yet, she couldn’t take the risk that one day he could.

  “No? I don’t think the bond cares what either of us wants.” Davin went to the easel and grabbed his pallet, laying the paint on it as he spoke. “Trust me, Perrine. Just play. We’ll worry about this other thing later.”

  Something in his voice caught her attention. A small variation in his usual pace and pitch.

  “Any requests?”

  “Yes,” he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Don’t stop playing until I finish painting and play from your heart.”

  Again, Perrine bristled at the not-so-subtle implication that she wasn’t being straight with Davin, until she reminded herself that he was right.

  “Nobody ever means it when they say that.”

  Davin gave her a pointed look. He meant it. He was an artist, and if they were going to collaborate, he wanted to see the real Perrine… or as real as he could convince her to share.

  “If you can’t put the truth in your words, put it in your art,” he said. “I suppose I must make allowances. I’ve never been overly fond of the purists’ version of truth, anyway.”

  Perrine plucked a rough introduction. If she let Davin see enough of her now, he might stop trying to pretend he wanted to know more. A vague melody emerged, and Perrine jumped on it, expanding and deepening the harmony. She’d spent years operating Parodie and a lifetime in classical instruction, but she’d never tried to capture a person in a song, let alone herself.

  Somewhere between the middle of the first verse and the chorus, Perrine’s song took on a life of its own. But it wasn’t the hopeful ditty from the gazebo or the triumphant ballad from the practice room. The song had a heavy bite to it. It was darker, more real than anything she’d ever played for Davin.

  He swept his brush over the pallet, loading it with dark blue pigment and swirling it over the canvas. This wasn’t a song for bright colors and gentle scenes. Perrine wasn’t sure if she felt any regret at the darker nature of the images taking shape, but she knew she had to keep playing.

  She slowly lost track of things again. Her worries and fears faded. Every mask and con she had ever laid in place, fell away until there was only her and the music. No… she was the music. Everything she was and everything she would ever be was in the notes that formed in the air and swirled beneath the lights. It was all there for anyone to see.

  Someone did see. An Aikalaan female in flowing robes wandered into the space, her braided honey-brown hair slung over her shoulder, almost hiding the sheer wonder in her eyes. Her entrance almost broke whatever spell Perrine’s music casted.

  Davin paused mid-brush stroke to glance over his shoulder at Perrine. “Keep playing!”

  Perrine couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to. Whatever magic filtered through the music was like a drug. She had always loved music, but she’d never experienced it this way. Not until she met Davin. She glanced at his painting, and to her amazement, he was right with her. His body and wings blocked the canvas from view, but the movements of his arms matched her perfectly, though they switched between following the melody and following the beat.

  More people—some human, some Aikalaan—filtered into the garden. Karina lingered near the entrance, watching in awe just like everyone else. It occurred to Perrine that so many people seeing something so personal should bother her, but somehow it didn’t. How could something so beautiful bother her?

  She kept playing, looping the song back on itself over and over. Perrine didn’t realize Davin had finished painting until the audience erupted in applause. He stepped back from the painting, and she caught a glimpse of it before he turned the easel toward the audience.

  Indigo and wine dominated the background, fading into deep black at the horizon and exploding into fiery red and orange near the bottom. The entire city was ablaze, scorched trees and blackened sand dominated the landscape. In the foreground, an image of Perrine hovered above the destruction… onyx wings spreading from her back and carrying her above the fray.

  A dark angel, rising from the ashes. If Perrine ever had to describe the real her, it was exactly the imagery she would have used. She had been wrong about Davin. He knew her a lot better than she gave him credit for.

 
He planned this…

  His voice pulled her attention away from the painting. “My friends, it’s my honor to introduce you to my pasanzi, Perrine Despre.”

  The setting, the audience, none of it was an accident. Davingelo had planned it all. It was exactly what he and Karina had promised—an introduction to their patrons. But it was one day and a successful duet away from being due. He must have known she was in trouble from the second he walked into the club with her. He tried to help with his strength, and when that backfired, he went with the best assets he had: his talent and his connections.

  Perrine glanced at the audience, all of them squeezing forward to get a closer look at Davin’s painting. They swarmed around him, filling the courtyard and separating him and Perrine as they lavished both with praise. They moved in so fast, she didn’t even have time to get up from the piano.

  Karina stood beside Perrine and leaned down, whispering in her ear. “Congratulations, you just helped Davin hold his first new showing in three years.”

  She stared at Karina in disbelief. Suddenly everything made sense. Davin’s insistence that she help him, his desperation to keep going in the face of every failed attempt. He needed to replicate the process as much as she did. His career depended on keeping Perrine interested in recreating the duet and he still gave her everything she needed to move on.

  Davin trusted her to do right by him, and it was going to break Perrine’s heart to prove him wrong.

  She was exhausted at the end of the day. She escaped once the shadows of the music garden were deep enough to hide her flight. She felt Davin’s attention, but he said nothing, letting her go. If she could sense him, he must be able to sense her exhaustion, her unease, her need to be alone. So she returned to her room, opening the door and steeping into silence that didn’t quite have the quality she’d been expecting.

  Because, evidently, the work wasn’t over yet.