The Alien Huntress Series

by Gena Showalter

“Thank you.”

  He patted my hand. “I hope you’ll go to your fitting when we get home,” he said. “That seamstress, what’s her name, Celeste?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t know, either.

  “She nearly cut out my heart with her needle and thread when I told her you would be gone for an entire day.”

  I laughed. “Give her a raise. I like her style.”

  We reached the house a few minutes later. I shifted to command the door to open, but Michael caught my wrist in his hand. His features tightened. “Eden,” he began. “You know I love you, right?”

  My stomach instantly clenched. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my concern making the words sharper than I’d intended. He told me he loved me all the time, but there was something in his voice this time—something deep and filled with pain.

  “Nothing,” he said, turning away. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to remind you how I feel about you, that’s all.”

  “Michael—”

  He emerged from the car without another word to me, leaving me mystified.

  Chapter

  11

  Still reeling from Michael’s words, I grabbed my bag and tugged Agent Luc from the car. We quickly stormed the house, leaving the heat of the afternoon behind us, along with the trees and birds and colorful flowers that encompassed the home. I had every intention of hunting my father down and demanding an explanation. I didn’t buy his “I just like to remind you” line. He liked to remind me, sure, but never with such stark pain in his eyes.

  Before I found him, however, the seamstress—Celeste—found me.

  Agent Luc plopped protectively at my feet as Celeste bounded down the stairs, needle and thread in hand. “Where have you been?” she scolded. “I have eleven dresses and six pantsuits to finish, and yet you abandon me at the most pivotal part of my work.”

  “You don’t need me here to finish.” Frowning, I hoisted the weight of my bag over my shoulder. “You have my measurements.”

  Exasperation flittered over her pretty features, and she tossed her hands in the air. “Fine. You want the clothes to slip from your shoulders, tear when you run, and reveal your precious weapons, that’s fine with me. I will sew another’s name in the garments so no one knows they are my creation.”

  “Great idea,” I said and turned toward the study where I knew Michael had gone. The doors were closed, most likely locked.

  Celeste screeched, the high-pitched sound echoing off the walls. “Go to your room and try on those clothes, Eden Black. Now!”

  I spun and faced her. I opened my mouth to offer her a stinging retort, but noticed how her chest heaved, how her eyes gleamed. She was as passionate about her work as I was about mine. I respected that.

  “What are you waiting for?” she prompted. “An engraved invitation from the Rakan king? Go.”

  “This isn’t a good time.”

  She pushed a breath from her pursed lips, and her shoulders drooped slightly. “There is never a good time with you.”

  I cast one last glance toward the study door, then reluctantly leapt up the stairs with Agent Luc close to my heels. “Next time someone talks to me like that, you attack. Understand?”

  She whimpered.

  I rolled my eyes. Useless canine. Thankfully, the pinching and poking of my fitting only lasted an hour, and Celeste quite happily went on her way.

  While Agent Luc slept on the bed, I allowed myself a long, lingering shower, letting the steamy water wash away the trials of the last few days. Afterward, I brushed my hair and changed into comfortable lounge pants and a shirt, then strode into Michael’s office. He was absent, but two women were cleaning and dusting. I fought a wave of disappointment.

  “Come back later,” I told the women.

  They nodded and hurried out. I really did need my own place, I realized. Somewhere private and all my own. Unlike Michael, I’d do my own damn laundry and cleaning. I didn’t like how freely he admitted his staff. Yes, he took precautions against theft and spying, but was that ever enough?

  Alone, I logged onto the computer with a spoken “Eden F. Black.” I e-mailed Colin Foley, a quantum physics instructor I’d once dated, asking for information on solar flares and potential transportational properties. He might know nothing; he might know something. We’d ended our two-year relationship amicably, so I didn’t doubt he’d return my message. I stressed the importance of a speedy reply—which I hoped to receive before I left for New Dallas.

  As I stared at the screen, willing him to reply now, my eyes began to burn and water. I yawned. I’d been up the last two days and needed sleep. Pushing out a breath, I shut down the computer and left the comforting familiarity of the office.

  I trudged up the stairs into my room and flopped onto the bed beside Agent Luc. Hopefully taking an hour or so to rest and center my energy would grant me a measure of peace and sanity.

  I closed my eyes and commanded every limb, cell, and organ to relax. Slowly my mind smoothed, beginning its gradual slide into calmness and tranquillity. In gentle increments, my chaotic thought patterns coalesced into a focused whole. The pulse of my heartbeat harmonized with the steady stream of my mind.

  Just when I was congratulating myself on a job well done, an image of Lucius appeared, upsetting my equanimity. My heartbeat sped up and thumped eagerly; my blood heated. I bit my bottom lip and mentally shoved his picture out of my mind.

  It slid right back to center, taunting me.

  My eyelids fluttered open, and I shifted to my side. The dog opened her eyes, checking her surroundings. When she realized all was well, she closed her eyes again and continued slumbering peacefully—taking up half the bed. If only I could find such peace. Lucius, I decided in the next instant, was a disease. A stinking, festering disease that rotted my common sense and might very well be the death of me. I needed some sort of antidote.

  The battle to cast out the haunting presence of his image was in full force when my phone erupted in a series of beeps.

  I uttered a low growl and picked up the cell unit from the side table, anchoring the main piece to my ear. “Yes.”

  “Miss me?” A rough voice crackled over the other end.

  “I miss you about as much as I miss the copper bullet I had to dig out of my stomach.”

  Lucius laughed, the sound husky and rich as it washed over me. Neither of us commented on the fact that we didn’t have to state our names, that we’d only known each other a short time but already recognized each other’s voices.

  “I love it when you play hard-to-get. Tell me how things are going,” he said with barely a breath.

  “On schedule.”

  “What’s this I hear about solar flares?”

  My eyes narrowed, and I glared at the far wall. “When did you talk to Michael?”

  “Answer me first.”

  I did, and my speech was followed by a long silence.

  “We need to investigate this,” he finally said. “Michael’s doing some research, but I think we need to do some on our own. The more the merrier, right?” He paused. “There’s got to be something to this flare shit. You did good.”

  To be validated by someone as stern and unbending as Lucius was intoxicating. “Thank you,” I said. I tried to keep the elation out of my voice.

  I must have failed because he said, “You cryin’ tears of joy over there?”

  My cheeks heated. “Shut the hell up.”

  “Don’t bite my head off.” He laughed.

  “Which one?” I muttered.

  “Either.” Another pause reigned before he blew out a breath. “I like you more every time I talk to you, you know that, cookie?”

  I faked a southern drawl (quite well, I might add). “Is that why you’re calling me, Agent Luscious? So you can like me more?”

  “Don’t call me that,” he snapped. “I had a spare minute and thought I’d check on you.”

  “Didn’t Michael tell you how I was doing?”

  “I wanted to hear it from y
ou, all right?”

  “All right,” I said, and let the subject drop. I didn’t admit that I was glad he’d called, that I’d wanted to hear from him. “Let’s finish our conversation about the solar flares, and you telling me what a good job I did.”

  He snorted. “Just look into them. We can compare notes when you get here.”

  My eyebrows winged up as a tide of anticipation hit me. “I bet I’ll have more information than you.”

  He chuckled huskily. “My God,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Did you hear yourself? I’ll have more information than you,” he mimicked. “I doubt I’ve ever heard a more obvious challenge. You have got to be the most competitive woman in the entire world.”

  “Now that’s hardly a fair statement. You haven’t met every woman in the world.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I accept the challenge. We’ll just see who has more information.”

  I grinned, invigorated. “So, how are things with you?”

  “Parker sympathizes with my obsession for you and plans to help me win you. He’s throwing a party and made sure your new boss received an invitation.”

  I knew that, I almost said, but thankfully stopped myself. He had no idea I’d listened and watched his interaction with Jonathan Parker, and I needed to keep it that way. “What exactly do you plan to do to win me?”

  “Let’s keep that a surprise so your reaction is real. I wouldn’t worry except that your acting sucks.”

  My grip on the unit box tightened, and I lost my grin. “I can act.”

  He didn’t comment.

  I heaved a sigh. Fine. “What’s my apartment like?” I gritted out.

  He offered no denial about the fact that he’d sneaked inside. “Looks good. Spacious. Well guarded. Expensive. You’ll have no trouble fitting in. And in case you were wondering, your bed is big enough for two people.”

  “That’s good to know. I’m sure Agent Luc will be glad we can both fit.”

  Silence. Dark, heavy silence that crackled with tension.

  “Who the hell,” he said haltingly, “is Agent Luc?”

  “A friend of mine.” I stroked a hand down the dog’s soft fur, and she snorted blissfully in her sleep. “Luc is helping me with the case.”

  “You did not have my permission to include this man in our mission.”

  I didn’t correct his assumption that Luc was a male. How’s my acting now? “I don’t need your permission for anything.”

  “Damn it, Eden. Does Michael know?”

  “What? Are you going to run and complain to the boss?” I taunted.

  I heard a sharp grinding noise and pictured Lucius working his jaw. I smiled because I’d just ensured he wouldn’t ask Michael about Luc for any reason. Ah, male pride. So predictable.

  “If this man steps one foot—one damn foot—inside your apartment, I’ll shove those feet so far up his ass he’ll vomit them out. Understand?”

  My smile grew wider. I couldn’t help myself. “Oh, I understand all right.”

  He paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He no longer sounded angry. He sounded hesitant.

  “Your jealousy is cute, that’s all.”

  Click.

  The abrupt disconnection and sudden silence caused my ears to ring. My smile became a chuckle. I rolled to my back, letting the cell unit drop beside me. I even kissed Luc on her wet nose.

  A few minutes later, the phone rang again. Still grinning, I picked up on the fourth ring. “Yes,” I said.

  “I never make threats, Eden. Only promises. I didn’t want a partner, but I’ve resigned myself to you. I will not tolerate anyone else on this case.”

  I wouldn’t either, but I was not about to let this man think his threats—oopsie, promises—cowed me. I would not let him think he called the shots.

  “Agent Luc and I will be there on schedule,” I said. With that, I severed the connection.

  Feeling more at peace than I would have after a ten-hour slumber, I affectionately scruffed Luc atop her shaggy brown head. She opened her eyes and stared up at me adoringly. “Better watch your paws, girl. Agent Luscious is a jealous man.”

  I laughed happily.

  Chapter

  12

  Finally, the day arrived.

  Pretending to be an employee of Michael’s sent to check on his daughter’s accommodations, I flew into New Dallas. After a quick stop at Michael’s farmhouse, I visited my apartment. For the event, I dressed in a short, spiky black wig and wore a fake pregnancy belly under a synthetic cotton dress. My skin was heavily caked in makeup. I looked a sight, I’m sure, but I needed to map an escape route. Or two. I needed to know what to expect when I, as pampered Eden Black, arrived.

  God, it was hot. Sweat dripped from me as I walked down the sidewalk.

  I blamed EenLi for the extreme heat and wouldn’t have doubted if he was one of the Mecs who could control the weather. They did like it hot and dry, but the boiling temperature nearly felled me.

  Situated in the bustling heart of New Dallas, the apartment building was enhanced chrome and bullet-resistant glass. Eighty-seven stories high. I stepped inside. Fingerprint scanners were at every door. Holographic guides. High-tech, just like Lucius had said.

  Grateful for air-conditioning, I maneuvered my way through the throng of people in the well-lit, computerized lobby and entered the farthest elevator, exclusively used for the penthouse. My data—both real and fake—had been programmed in, and the scanners readily accepted me as who I claimed to be. The ride inside the decadent box was long but smooth. A satin-covered bench occupied the far wall, and a cooler with single-serving wine sat next to it.

  When I reached the top, the doors slid open and I stepped into a world of utter self-indulgence. Gazing around, I inhaled the aromas of leather and cotton, expensive commodities in this synthetic world, where alien and human wars had destroyed so many precious things. Plush recliners, overstuffed couches. Glass tables. Double holoscreen TVs. Two wet bars, fully stocked.

  Everything was voice and fingerprint protected.

  I did a quick walk-through, making sure that I was alone. I was. Good. I found the two hidden doorways that Michael had installed, making sure they opened properly. The one located on the kitchen floor squeaked, so I oiled it down. Wouldn’t do to let the bad guys know my location. It led to a safe room. The other door, which opened smoothly, led to a slide that would take me straight to the bottom of the building.

  My bed, I noticed, was covered in blue silk and lined with what looked to be sheer lace. I knew the material was a protectant and would seal out poisons and gases. And yes, two people could easily fit inside it.

  Everything was in order. That was all I’d needed to know.

  I took a cab for several miles, then walked the rest of the way to the farmhouse, all the while making sure I wasn’t followed. A girl could never be too careful.

  Agent Luc was waiting for me. The moment I stepped through the door, she bounded from her floor pillow. Ren, the agent I’d left in charge of her care, growled a clipped, “Be still, dog.”

  “Watch your tone,” I snapped. I crouched down and pet Luc’s soft, clean fur. She sighed happily. “Missed me, huh?”

  I quickly showered and changed into a fancy dress suit, then Marko drove Luc and me back to the airport to await pickup. What a busy day so far, and I knew it was only going to become more hectic from this point on.

  Thankfully my civilian driver, or rather Claudia Chow’s, arrived not long after, and I soon found myself gazing out of a limousine window. I shifted impatiently in the soft leather seat.

  The mission, for me, had officially begun.

  Agent Luc lounged next to me and rested her chin on my leg. Absently I stroked her fur and tapped my high-heeled foot against the floorboard. This part of New Dallas offered a plethora of scenery, most of it bleak. One moment a series of towering buildings and speeding cars could be seen; the next I saw wide-open spaces, tumbleweeds, scrubby trees.<
br />
  I’d always thought of myself as a patient woman. But right now, everything inside me screamed to hurry. Not because I yearned to see Lucius, I assured myself, but because I wanted, at last, to begin helping with this case.

  An hour passed. My lips dipped in a frown, and I shifted in my seat again. Why couldn’t the ambassador of alien goodwill live closer to the airport?

  I’d read the file on Claudia Chow. She’d been born to privilege. She’d married young—a man also born to privilege. She’d never known a moment’s hardship in her life. When her husband had been alive, the two of them had enjoyed hunting animals and traveling the world.

  Now she spent her time fighting for alien rights. That didn’t make sense to me, didn’t seem to fit her background. I was to translate for her at parties, meetings, and any other events she chose to attend. I sighed.

  She owned a ranch on the outskirts of the city…a sprawling ranch now visible on the horizon. Thank God. My back straightened, and I grinned suddenly. Happily.

  “We’re almost there,” I told Luc, excitement dripping from my tone.

  She blinked up at me and licked my hand.

  I patted her between the ears. “Be careful around the ambassador. She used to hunt animals. She might still.”

  Luc licked me again. She trusted me to keep her safe, and I liked that.

  I returned my attention to the ranch. It was red and white, wide and sprawling, with notched wooden posts anchoring the first floor to the second. Armed guards roamed the edges of the property, as well as around the home itself. They weren’t human. They were purebred Ell-Rollises, creatures so thought-dependent they could only follow the dictates of their master.

  “You’ve got to show total courage while you’re here, girl,” I said to Luc. “If anyone suggests one of those guards hurt you, they’ll do it without a moment’s thought. So don’t go outside without me.” I traced a hand down my braided ponytail and muttered, “Maybe I should have left you with Michael.” I didn’t want her hurt.

  I’d intended to leave her behind. As I’d strode out the front door, however, Luc had bounded behind me, whimpering with every step. I’d been reminded of every time Michael left me behind for a mission—every time I’d cried for him, wanted him to sing me to sleep. I hadn’t been able to do the same to Luc.