The Alien Huntress Series

by Gena Showalter

  Who could have known I’d turn to mush over a dog?

  She licked my leg.

  With such a fierce companion, I thought dryly, I might not need the modified rifle, silencer, and hollow-point bullets in my bag. Of the two of us, though, I was in more danger than Luc. Michael had told me Ambassador Claudia Chow liked to collect other-worlders. All races. “I bet she’d stuff and mount me if it were legal.”

  Agent Luc gave me yet another lick.

  Honestly, I despised humans who used other-worlders as trophies. “Ah, look at my alien,” I mimicked with sugary sweetness. And I didn’t care if the driver heard me. I was a pampered princess. A diva. “Isn’t it pretty?” My lips pursed. If Claudia treated me that way…

  One of the guards must have notified Claudia of my arrival, because the moment the limousine eased into the long, winding gravel drive, she stepped onto the slatted porch. I studied her. She wore her black hair in a severe twist, had perfectly applied makeup, and her long, elegant body was molded into a conservative black silk suit. I would have put her age at thirty, but I knew she’d just turned forty-six. She was an attractive woman who obviously knew her power and reveled in it.

  The car stopped, and my door instantly opened. An Ell-Rollis stepped toward me and extended his hand. “Thank you,” I told him cooly. Game face on. Sweet, air-conditioned air became hot and fragrant with the smells of summer and horses. My nose twitched as I stepped outside.

  The Ell-Rollis didn’t speak. He did smile at me, revealing razor-sharp yellow teeth. The smile seemed out of place on his lizardlike features. He must have been ordered to greet me with a welcoming grin.

  Agent Luc jumped beside me and sat, my ever-watchful guard. At least she didn’t fall asleep. As if she had heeded my warning, she eyed the Ell-Rollis warily.

  With absolutely no expression on her face, Claudia closed the distance between us and folded me in her arms. For show? Most likely. I didn’t welcome the embrace, but I did tolerate it. She stood a few inches shorter than me, forcing her to stretch on her tiptoes when she kissed both of my cheeks.

  “Welcome,” she said, her voice cultured, refined. Her eyes were brown, and up close I could see the freckles scattered over her nose.

  “Thank you.” I smiled sweetly, not a single hint of falsity. I hoped. “I’m very happy to be here.”

  “Let me look at you,” she said, releasing me and stepping away. Her dark gaze drifted over me, slowly taking my measure in a full body once-over. “So much gold. It’s stunning, really.”

  Want to check my teeth? Perhaps tag my toe? I gave her a wider grin. “Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”

  “Did someone tinker with your DNA,” she asked innocently, “or are all Rakas as glittery and golden as you?”

  “We’re all like this, I’m told.”

  “I’m simply eaten up with jealousy. You must look at yourself in the mirror a thousand times a day.”

  “Yes.” The answer of a princess.

  “We’ll make sure no one tries to de-skin you. I’ll take measures to protect you.” She patted my cheek, just as I sometimes did to my dog. “You and I are going to get along famously, I’m sure. Giles,” she called over her shoulder. She even clapped her hands together. “Take Miss Black’s bags to the Yellow Room.” To me, she added, “Yellow will blend so nicely with your golden skin.”

  “I won’t need my bags taken to the Yellow Room. I have an apartment in the city.”

  “Nonsense. I want you to stay here. No reason for you to travel back and forth.”

  Oh, no, no. “I prefer to stay at my own place. That’s one of the reasons I moved away from my father.”

  Claudia’s brown gaze sharpened, and she inched toward me in a subtle I-am-in-command-here pose. “I prefer to have you here. With your dog, of course. It’s welcome to stay, as well, and will have more room to run and play here.”

  “I’m sorry, but I must insist—”

  “And I must insist that you stay.” Her eyes gleamed with determination.

  “That was not part of our arrangement,” I said, striving to maintain my calm. Should I throw a fit?

  “I’ve now made it a part of our arrangement. If that’s a problem…”

  Then she would find another interpreter. I’d lose my cover. Why such insistence that I stay? I wondered, fists tightening. Still, I gnashed my jaw and didn’t offer another argument. Studying the apartment, oiling the secret door, had been for nothing. Great. “The Yellow Room sounds lovely.”

  The moment I spoke, her expression softened, and she grinned happily. Her teeth were white, perfectly straight. “Wonderful. I knew we’d get along. Giles,” she called again.

  A tuxedo-clad Genesi appeared behind her. His race possessed wrinkled gray skin that folded over in layers. I’d killed a Genesi once. A female. She’d emitted some sort of humming energy that tinkled like bells as she fought me. Those bells had grown in volume and had nearly burst my eardrums by the time I finished her off.

  Without looking me in the eyes, the Genesi walked stiffly past me and to the car, hefted my bags in his arms, then pivoted on his heel. I allowed this without protest. Most of my weapons were hidden securely in everyday toiletry items. Even if he searched my things for hours, he’d never find anything out of the ordinary.

  “Now, tell me about your friend,” the ambassador said, motioning to the dog. “What’s its name?”

  “Her name is Luc. She’s leery of men,” I added, patting her head, “so it will be best if your male servants leave her alone.”

  “I think it’s marvelous that you have an Earth-born companion.” Ambassador Chow’s face blanketed with a hint of sadness. “My companion is gone. A virus took him.”

  I didn’t mention that I myself was Earth-born. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  She waved her hand through the air and forced a smile. “It was so long ago. Are you thirsty, my dear? I’m sure you are,” she answered for me. “Let’s adjourn to the drawing room. We’ll have lemonade and get to know one another better.”

  With Luc clopping at my side, I followed the ambassador and strolled eagerly inside, my form-fitting calf-length skirt crinkling with my every movement. Cool air blasted me, shivering through my clothing and onto my too-warm skin. That brief stay in the sun had overheated me, I realized.

  I blinked away the red-gold sunspots and studied my new, temporary home. Comfortable looking, yes. But…My hands curled into fists again. I wanted my apartment. As we sauntered down a long hallway, one of the first things I noticed were the animal heads that decorated some of the walls. Deer, coyote, and wild hog, all of which were endangered and illegal to possess or kill.

  I’d expected something different for the elegant Claudia Chow. Yes, I’d known she hunted animals, which was now illegal without a government license, but I’d thought…I don’t know what I’d thought.

  She glanced at me over her shoulder. “What do you think of my home?”

  I decided to be truthful. Less complicated that way. “The animal heads give me the creeps.”

  “Really?” She frowned, genuine surprise flicking through her eyes. “Almost all of your people seem to enjoy them.”

  My people? Did she mean Raka or all other-worlders? Either way, it didn’t seem like something an Ambassador of Alien Goodwill should say.

  We finally stepped inside the drawing room, a room boasting animal skulls and bird feathers. Interspersed throughout the carcasses were lace doilies and flower-filled vases. My God. This had to be hell.

  Hiding a grimace, I waited until Claudia seated herself in a floral chair before I claimed the rosy pink settee across from her. Luc sat at my feet, still looking wary. Between Claudia and me was a small, rolling table piled high with cookies and lemonade.

  Except for the dead animals, the scene reminded me of a period piece. An old movie, perhaps, with ladies and gentlemen and proper manners. I suspected Claudia cultivated the image purposefully. To relax her guests? To disarm them?


  Ever the gracious hostess, she poured me a glass of tangy lemonade, and I tentatively sipped. I hated anything sour, and this proved to be completely devoid of the sweetness I preferred.

  “Martha,” she said, “please bring Luc a bowl of water.” Orders given, Claudia offered me a cookie.

  I readily accepted. It, at least, possessed some sugar. If I could have only one food in the entire world, that would be it. Pure, granulated sugar. I nibbled on the edges of the cookie and sighed with satisfaction.

  “I’m not sure what you’ve been told of your duties,” she said, “but all I’ll require of you is your presence at every political and social function I attend, to accompany me when other-worlders visit to tell me of their problems and concerns, and to interpret any calls I receive.”

  That’s all, huh?

  “My last interpreter spoke only six languages, so aliens often left my presence frustrated with their inability to communicate with me. Your father mentioned you speak twenty-seven languages.” There was a ring of disbelief in her tone.

  “He didn’t exaggerate, I assure you.”

  Surprise flittered over her refined features, as if she’d expected me to deny it. “How did you manage to learn so many?”

  A female servant arrived with Luc’s water bowl. The girl was alien, a Brin Tio Chi, a race that was dark as mocha and moved with fluid grace, practically floating. She placed the bowl in front of Luc and drifted away like a dream, her white robe wisping at her ankles. The dog drank greedily.

  “A tutor of mine once told me Rakas have an affinity for languages. That all of our kind seem to learn them as easily as human children learn the alphabet.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Grinning, Claudia clasped her hands. “There’s a party we’ll be attending tonight, and I expect many different alien races to be there. Some of them haven’t yet mastered English, so you’ll have to translate for me.”

  The party. I could hardly wait. “That will be my pleasure.”

  She sighed. “Something you need to know about me is that I always mix business with pleasure. I expect many other-worlders to approach me tonight with problems they’ve been having. They know they can come to me anywhere, anytime.”

  My head tilted to the side. “What kind of problems?”

  “Discrimination, mostly. Humans often act superior to their alien counterparts—and jealous when someone they feel is un-deserving has money and power. That’s when I step in. I make sure alien needs are represented in the Senate.”

  A pretty speech. Rehearsed? Or truthful?

  “When Yson—he was my husband—was alive, we traveled the world and witnessed so many atrocities against aliens. We vowed to do what we could to help.” Her face gleamed with sadness. “Then the Zi Karas came over and brought that horrible plague that killed so many humans and animals. Yson was one of the first to die, leaving me to help on my own.”

  “I’d think that would have made you hate all aliens.” I stated the words as an observation, an afterthought. Casual. But I watched her expression intently.

  The fine lines around her eyes seemed to deepen. “For a while, yes, I did hate them. But Yson would not have wanted me to harbor such hatred. He would have wanted me to keep my vow. And so I have.” She waved a hand through the air. “Now enough sadness. Let’s talk about happy things.”

  What a puzzle she was—a puzzle I planned to solve. Whether the pieces would fit together in an innocent or betraying manner, I didn’t know. I only knew I’d have to stay on my guard with her. Michael seemed to trust her (somewhat), but I couldn’t. Not yet.

  We chatted for a few more minutes about the weather, about my food preferences and sleeping habits.

  “Why don’t you go upstairs,” she said. “You can unpack or rest or whatever you need to do before the party.”

  “Where’s the party located?” I asked, unable to keep anticipation from my tone. I already knew the answer.

  “At Jonathan Parker’s estate. He’s wealthy and powerful and a good man to have on your side.” She paused, grinned. “He insisted, absolutely insisted, we attend.”

  I returned her grin with one of my own. “I look forward to meeting him.” And I did. God, I did.

  Chapter

  13

  I spent the next hour searching my new bedroom for bugs and cameras.

  A single dead animal head hung from my “yellow that blends well with my skin” walls. A deer. The rest of the decor was tasteful, if purely Texan. Cowbell chandelier, horseshoes on the walls, wooden bedposts that supported a wheelbarrow-shaped bed. Snakeskin baskets rested on the side tables.

  I found two cameras, but no bugs. The ambassador of alien goodwill had replaced the deer’s eyes with round, black lenses pointed toward the bed. Whether Claudia Chow was simply a pervert who liked to watch, had nefarious reasons for wanting me under surveillance, or wanted the camera here to help “protect” me from gold lovers, I didn’t care. I renewed my determination to be cautious around her. She didn’t know my true purpose for being here, but she was going to get me inside Jonathan’s party. For that I’d endure her creepiness.

  I didn’t care if she knew I’d found the cameras. I openly removed and disabled them. Picture splicing had become common years ago, so the government had made cameras like these illegal without a permit. I doubted she had a permit.

  “Lord save me,” I muttered. I could handle the camera problem one of two ways. Hand the cameras to the ambassador personally with a warning not to place them in my room again, or not mention them at all.

  After a moment’s debate, I decided not to mention them. I’m willing to bet she knew the exact moment I found them. If I kept quiet, she’d wonder about my thoughts, my reaction, and perhaps tread more carefully around me.

  Assured now of my privacy, I began memorizing the layout of the room by sight, then with my eyes closed, learning the spacing between furniture and the length of the floor. Luc watched me curiously the entire time. She even paced beside me for a while before becoming bored and flouncing to the bed.

  A time might come when I needed to navigate this room in the dark, simply to survive. I charted the best escape route, as well as a second in case the first was blocked.

  Afterward, I allowed myself a lingering shower. The dry enzyme spray did not offer the same relaxing sensation as the warm, steamy water at Michael’s, but I enjoyed the feel of clean skin.

  Especially now, knowing I would soon see Lucius. Knowing I would soon meet Jonathan Parker face to face. Knowing a “slave” order would soon be placed for me, and I would be stolen away, perhaps locked underground. Dirty and cold.

  Soon…yes, soon.

  Lucius would be attending Jonathan Parker’s party tonight. I’d see him in person. Talk to him. And I would think only of our case, I vowed. Had he learned anything new about the solar flares? About EenLi? According to Michael, the bastard still had not been spotted. It was like he’d disappeared.

  Maybe he had.

  Maybe, like Romeo, he’d used a solar flare to return home.

  If that proved true, I’d find a way to chase him all the way to Mecca.

  The spray began to sputter, so I shut the unit off and stepped from the white tiled enclosure. Heated air billowed from vents above, beside, and below me to keep me warm until I dressed. I restrapped my weapons onto my body: a small pyre-gun on the inside of my thigh, one knife, and a tiny vial of Onadyn. I never knew which I’d need, so I liked access to all three.

  I decided, though, that I needed something else this time. Something more than my usual arsenal. Just in case. These were new surroundings with people I didn’t know and hadn’t followed. I locked an anklet around my ankle—an anklet that possessed hallucinogens in the shapes of diamonds.

  That done, I slipped the ice-blue sheath dress over my head. The sheer material kissed my breasts and hips, but flared freely around my calves with different lengths of scarves. I left most of my golden hair down, clipping only the sides back and out of the way wi
th sapphire-studded combs—which also doubled as retractable blades.

  “Not bad,” I muttered, studying my reflection in the mirror. Iced gold.

  I’d come to loathe high heels, but I supposed I could tolerate them for tonight. Who knows? If needed, I could use the heels as a weapon. I anchored a strappy pair the exact shade of my dress onto my feet. A little mascara, a swipe of gloss. There. Done.

  Luc barked her approval.

  I checked my computer for a message from Colin. Nothing. I sighed. The wall clock ticked the hour. Five o’clock, two hours before the ambassador and I needed to leave. That gave me plenty of time to question her about Jonathan Parker.

  Claudia, as it turned out, was a certified gossip and more than happy to tell me everything she knew about everyone she’d ever met. Our conversation lasted the entire two hours before she rushed upstairs to change for the party.

  During our chat, I’d learned the following tidbits of information:

  River Garwood preferred homemade beer to expensive champagne, although he did have an excellent wine cellar.

  Norine Smith’s breast augmentation had left her with one breast larger than the other. The woman now wore a one-sided padded bra.

  Jonathan Parker hated peas with a passion that could not be surpassed (perhaps this knowledge could be used if we ever decided to torture him?).

  Gladys MacGregor, who lost all her money to bad investments and everyone knew it, had paid her dentist for her porcelain veneers with a little oral surgery of her own—performed on her knees.

  I brooded over the fact that those were two hours I’d never get back. Not one of my better plans.

  When Claudia rejoined me ten minutes later, she wore a shiny violet sequined dress that hugged her body. It glinted like rich oil in the light. Her hair was wrapped in a matching turban. She looked elegant. Refined.