The Alien Huntress Series

by Gena Showalter

  She was so curious about him, this man she’d encountered thrice, touched twice, made out with once—kind of—and now dreamed about. What made him tick? How did he live his life? Had he ever been in love?

  Not that the answers mattered. Really. He was her enemy right now. If he’d hurt her friend, his throat would be ripped from his gorgeous body and tossed into a gutter, she thought, nails digging into her palms.

  Physically hurting women didn’t seem like Devyn’s style, she reminded herself, and her muscles relaxed. Most likely he’d screwed Aleaha stupid. That was more his MO. The bastard. How many hearts had he broken over the years? Did he even care about the destruction he left behind?

  Not that it matters. Another reminder.

  It was late Sunday night, and the streets were nearly deserted. Only a few people bustled past, a little woozy on their feet from too much alcohol. The moon was high, golden, and full. It was the kind of night she usually loved. She could meander freely, air cool on her easily heated skin, drunks ripe for the plucking. Not that she could keep beer-saturated blood down anymore, either. Even that upset her delicate stomach.

  Devyn had seemed surprised and angry that she couldn’t keep an entire meal down. Those beautiful amber eyes had given him away. Why the anger? He knew something she didn’t, most likely. Hell, he knew a lot of stuff she didn’t. If she had to trade more kisses for the answers, fine, she’d suck it up like a big girl and do it. If he treated Aleaha well. Everything hinged on that. Everything but the fact that she was going to drink from him. One way or another. As far as she was concerned, he owed her.

  The closer she came to Devyn’s apartment, the more she felt a pair of eyes burning into her back. Bride’s heartbeat kicked up a notch, even as she tensed, slowed, scanning the area. One thing movies and books had gotten wrong was the fact that vampires were dead. At least, she wasn’t. She had a working heart; she breathed. The only difference between her and humans—besides her abilities—was her need for blood rather than food.

  Vamps could be otherworlders, she supposed. Or even genetically altered humans. Either way, she could be killed. She’d come close a few times over the years.

  Purposefully she rounded a corner, heading into a back alley that led to a maze of doors and walkways. While it was a good place to hide, it was also a good place to test her possible shadow’s intentions. There were no shops here, nothing a normal person would want to see or need. There was no reason to follow her here unless she was a target.

  Boxes lined the buildings, the homeless sleeping inside them. No one should—footsteps resounded behind her. Okay. She was being followed; she was a target. Devyn? AIR? Or someone else?

  Don’t turn, don’t let whoever it is know you know they’re there. Bride breathed deeply, in and out, trying to sort through the deluge of scents. Urine, waste, dirt, un-washed bodies, rotting food. A clean body, lightly cologned. Not Devyn. She would have caught a whiff of his clean-sheets-and-rain fragrance, mingled ever so slightly with Aleaha’s sky-and-pine smell, no matter what surrounded her. It was probably someone he knew, though.

  Grinding her molars, she swiped another corner and picked up her pace, grabbing her phone and flipping it open. She didn’t have any trouble finding Devyn’s number because it was the only one in memory. That dirty little shit! She didn’t have any friends, but she collected numbers to restaurant deliveries. Not for the food, but for the delivery boys.

  The footsteps picked up pace, too.

  With a press of a button, Devyn’s number was dialed. She held the phone to her ear, snaking into an open doorway, zigzagging through a building, and sprinting out the other side.

  “Miss me already, darling?” Devyn’s sexy voice purred on the other end.

  “Couldn’t keep your word and wait until tomorrow, could you? Had to sic your AIR buddy on me tonight? Is it the blue-eyed one? What’s his name? Dallas? He’s cute, so I might call and thank you tomorrow. He won’t, though. That, I promise you.”

  A heavy, crackling pause. “You’re being followed?”

  “Oh, look. Devyn’s acting innocent. Must be a fun new game.”

  “Where are you, Bride?”

  There wasn’t an ounce of humor in his tone. That…scared her. “And help your friend find me? Sorry. I’m not gonna tell.”

  “That’s not my friend.” There was static on the line as he spoke, as if he was talking and running at the same time. “Where are you?”

  Was he telling the truth? Only person she’d ever truly trusted was Aleaha. Too many others had betrayed her, lied to her, and let her down. Course, most of those sins came courtesy of her ex-boyfriend. He’d been so sweet at first. A real doll. But because of her late-night jaunts, he’d begun to think she was cheating on him. He’d become resentful, jealous, hateful, and had decided to teach her a lesson and cheat on her.

  A glowing blue beam soared a few inches to her right, and she gasped as she dove around a metal pole. “Shit! Whoever it is just tried to stun me. Sure it’s not AIR?”

  “Yes. Now give me your goddamn location.”

  The anger in his voice was enough to make her shudder. If the person chasing her was AIR, then that person could just as easily phone him and tell him where she was. He could have her location whether she gave it to him or not. The rationalization eased her objections, and Bride finally spouted off her coordinates.

  “I’m on my way.”

  “Okay. See you—”

  “Don’t hang up!” he shouted.

  Another beam soared past her, this one mere inches from her shoulder. She yelped, increasing her speed, feet pounding into the pavement. “Almost got me that time,” she rasped. The burning started up in her chest, thorns ready to cut.

  “Does stun effect you?”

  “Yes.” Unfortunately.

  “I’m almost there. Keep dodging.”

  “Brilliant plan. However did you think of it?” she asked dryly. “Don’t answer. We’ll talk when you get here.”

  “That sounded like good-bye, and I already told you not to hang up.”

  “Sorry, but I’m going to take the bastard out, and I can’t do that one-handed.” Click. As Bride ran, she stowed her phone and tore several razors from her sleeve. Her palms were damp with sweat, but she maintained a firm grip as she swerved behind another doorway.

  This time, rather than race onward, she crouched on the floor. A quick peek, her gaze cutting through the darkness like a knife, and she saw that her attacker was male. Tall, lean but muscled. Sandy hair. Boyish good looks.

  Tom, she realized, and her stomach rolled. Shy, horny Tom wanted her stunned? Why?

  He slowed to a leisurely stroll and raised his pyre-gun as he searched every doorway. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called. “I don’t want to hurt you, Bride.”

  Bride didn’t reply. She wasn’t an idiot—hello, he so wanted to hurt her—and wouldn’t give away her location by allowing him to follow her voice. Thank God she hadn’t drunk from him that night. Afterward, he could have ambushed her while she’d writhed in pain.

  Guess she owed Devyn a thank-you.

  When Tom stepped around one of those thick metal poles, Bride jerked her arm forward, releasing one of her razors. It whizzed through the air and sliced the side of his neck. He howled, fired, free hand reaching up to staunch the blood.

  The stun missed her by a mile. She used his distraction to her advantage and tossed another blade, aiming for his other side. It, too, sliced at his neck, drawing blood. Mmm, blood. So red…so pretty. He didn’t smell as pure tonight, had eaten oversalted eggs and bread, but the dark red liquid still looked savory. He howled again, dropping his gun and covering the rest of his sensitive flesh.

  “Damn it! I just want to talk to you,” he growled.

  “Then you shouldn’t have shot at her,” another, deeper voice said. A pissed-off voice. Devyn was here.

  Her heart pounded against her ribs, her skin tightened, and her nipples beaded, relief and arousa
l blending. Every nerve ending in her body ached for another touch from him. Maybe I am an idiot.

  “You can come out, sweetheart. Your human can’t move; he’s under my control. Nice shots on his neck, by the way. Very impressive aim. Next time sever the jugular, though.”

  Keeping a razor in hand and beaming at Devyn’s praise, Bride pushed to a stand and strode from the doorway. Though she wanted to stop beside Devyn and breathe him in, she bypassed him for Tom’s gun, still resting on the floor. She picked it up and sheathed it at her waist.

  Devyn tsked under his tongue. “Thinking of using that on me?”

  “Just adding it to my collection.” And holding on to it for protection. One wrong move from him, and she would stun him.

  Finally, she faced him. He’d pulled on a shirt but was otherwise the same as she’d left him. Sexy as hell in wrinkle-free slacks, hair in disarray, and amber eyes bright. He wasn’t winded or sweating. He looked as if he’d stepped from the pages of a magazine, rather than having just sprinted a five-hundred-yard dash.

  “Let me go,” Tom demanded. “I’m human. I have rights.”

  “Not anymore,” Devyn said flatly.

  Bravado faded. “Please. I didn’t mean any harm, and I don’t know how you’re keeping me still like this, but I’m willing to forgive and forget. Just let me go.”

  “Do you know this man?” Devyn asked her, ignoring Tom.

  “Yep. Tom tried to pick me up the other day. The day I met you, actually.”

  One of Devyn’s dark brows arched. “Heaven and hell, all in one day. Lucky girl. I take it you refused him?”

  “I planned on having a drink with him, then caught Aleaha’s scent and took off.”

  “With him?” Devyn chuckled. “Poor Tom.” He eyed the man in question. Sweat had beaded over Tom’s face. His lips were pulled into a frightened frown, and lines of tension branched from his eyes. “Denied the delectable morsel that is my Bride. I understand your pain, human. I, too, let her get away once. Now, what I don’t understand is shooting at the woman days later.” Every word was harsher, harder.

  His Bride?

  “You don’t know what you’re messing with, man,” Tom said on a trembling breath as he tried to collect himself. “Just let me go, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

  “Oh, then please enlighten me as to what I’m messing with.”

  Tom’s dark eyes skidded to Bride before returning to Devyn, the biggest threat. “She’s a vampire. She’ll suck you dry if given the chance. I know how to deal with them. I can protect you from her.”

  So. He knew she was a vampire. How many others knew? Was there already a mob after her, determined to stake her or burn her alive? “Why do you think I’m…vampire?” She couldn’t keep the fear from her voice. She’d gone to such pains to hide what she was.

  Tom laughed cruelly. “Few weeks ago you were seen drinking from a bum in an alleyway just like this. You were followed, information gathered. When I questioned your ex-boyfriend, I learned some interesting things about your nightly habits. And guess what? I’m not the only one who knows about you. My friends plan to sell you to the highest bidder.” He turned to Devyn. “Let me go, and you can have half the profits. You don’t want a bloodsucker as a lover, trust me. We’ll find you something else. Something sweet and pliable.”

  Something, he’d said, as if the women weren’t living beings. She realized he’d never truly desired her, had just sought her capture and the profit that would have accompanied it. Bastard.

  “No, thanks. I’d rather send your friends a message.” Devyn slid a long, sharp knife from his side, the silver winking in the moonlight.

  He’d turned down money and a slave. For her. Sweetest gesture ever. That didn’t mean she’d sleep with him, but wow. She might maybe kinda sorta didn’t despise him now. Like you did before.

  “Wh-what kind of message?” Tom asked, gaze glued to the weapon. If he’d had control of his body, he would have trembled, shrank back. Maybe pissed his pants. There was an unholy gleam to Devyn, as if he relished what was about to happen. As if he could already smell the blood and gore and found it heady. “How are you holding me so still? Let me go. Please, just let me go, or you’ll regret it.”

  “I can promise you, I’ll do no such thing. I never regret.”

  Devyn seemed to have forgotten Bride was even there, his full attention focused on his prey. And that’s exactly what Tom was just then. Prey. Part of her suddenly wanted to leave Devyn to his torturing and race home. To safety. The other part of her wanted to find out who Tom’s friends were, so that Devyn could destroy them, too.

  In the end, she stayed. And she watched. Just in case Devyn needed assistance. Tom did a lot of crying, a lot of begging, but Devyn never relented. Merciless, cruel, he took his time, slicing, taunting, inflicting maximum pain without actually killing the human. At one point, Bride asked him if she should act as lookout and keep others from approaching, but he told her he’d taken care of that. Probably with his body-control ability.

  Tom spilled blood—lots and lots of blood—and Bride’s mouth watered for all of that beautiful crimson nectar. Her fangs were sharpened, cutting her gums. Still she smelled the spice, but it no longer mattered in any way. She was starving, and the human was a banquet. But she resisted. Barely. Now was not the time to gorge. Once this was done, she needed to be on her feet, not writhing and vomiting. She needed to go home and decide what to do now that others knew about her.

  When Devyn cut off one of Tom’s fingers, blood sprayed her directly in the face, dripping…oh, yes, dripping…begging her to taste, and she almost crumbled. Somehow, she managed to keep her tongue inside her mouth. A single taste would whip her into a frenzy; since her body always absorbed those first sips, it thought it could handle more and so it would demand more. She would drink and gulp and lap every drop from the sidewalk, unable to help herself.

  Again she thought that she should leave, but Tom also began spilling lots and lots of secrets, so she remained in place, listening. Horrified. He and his friends had been slavers for years. They hadn’t just planned to abduct her. They’d planned to abduct many women. Selling them for sex, torture, or whatever the winning bidder wanted. The rarer the species, the higher the price.

  Apparently, vampires were now the pick du jour.

  Names, though, Tom refused to give, and in the end Devyn carved him up piece by piece before cutting off his head and depositing it on the nearest street corner for someone to find and news stations to shout about. Tom’s friends would see what had happened to him and know he’d been caught.

  By then, it was an hour before sunset. Bride was covered in blood spatter, scared to her soul about slavers knowing who she was and where she lived, rubbing her chest to stave off the pain, and in awe of Devyn. Not once had he tired or hesitated. The very man who had probably charmed thousands of women out of their panties had been brutal, savage. Emotionless.

  He turned to her, eyes as bright an amber as always but filled with uncertainty. “You’re frightened.”

  “Yes.” No reason to deny it.

  He looked away from her. “Of me?”

  She should be. Anyone who could take a life like that, hurt someone like that, was not a good enemy to have, and she’d challenged him several times already. She’d even vowed to make his life miserable. Yet right here, right now, she felt safer with him than anyone else in the world.

  “No, not you. I’m afraid of the men who hunt me.”

  There was a beat of surprise before a slow grin spread over his face and he once again met her gaze. What a morbidly beautiful sight he was, Bride thought. He waved a dismissive hand. “When they see the news, they’ll know. Mess with Bride McKells and die.”

  “That, or they’ll come for revenge.” A shudder rocked her.

  His head tilted to the side in thought. “You could always room with me.” The moment he spoke, his lips pursed, as if he wanted to snatch back the words.

  “No, thanks
. I’ve been protecting myself for years. I’ll be fine.” Most likely she’d have to move again, change her name again. Damn. She didn’t want to do either. She liked her home.

  He popped his jaw, an action completely at odds with the tender way he then brushed her hair behind her ear. “They won’t come for you, not for days yet. When they find out about Tom, they’ll meet and talk about what to do. You have time to think, to plan, so rest easy tonight. Or rather, today. We’ll figure out how to handle them once Nolan and Aleaha are taken care of.” He glanced up at the sky. “Much as I’m enjoying our time together, you had better go. I doubt you can tolerate the sun for long.”

  “You’re right. It blisters my skin.” It was a weakness she shouldn’t have admitted to, but after everything he’d done for her, her defenses were down and the truth had simply slipped out.

  “Until tomorrow, then.”

  She backed away, intending to leave as he’d suggested, but stopped herself before she’d even taken four steps. “Devyn?”

  “Don’t tell me. You want to kiss me good-bye.” He sighed, waved her over. “Fine. I’ll jump on that grenade. Get over here.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why did you help me?” she asked. She had to know.

  For a moment, she doubted he would answer. Then he shrugged. “You have Nolan. And you owe me three make-out sessions. I wasn’t about to let you die and renege.”

  Whatever she’d hoped to hear, that wasn’t it. “Uh, I owe you kisses. Not make-out sessions.” She paused, nibbled on her bottom lip. “Will you get in trouble? For killing a human, I mean?” As an otherworlder, he had very few rights. Unfair, but the way of the world all the same.

  His lips twitched. “Worried for me, sweetheart? Well, don’t be. If I’m punished, I’ll make you fuck me all better.”

  She spun around, giving him her back before he saw her smile. Fuck him all better, indeed. Incorrigible womanizer. “See you later, Devyn,” she said, and strode away from him.

  CHAPTER 9