The Alien Huntress Series

by Gena Showalter

  “Don’t come any closer.” Jalyn drummed her nails against her arms. “If I must, I’ll call for the guards.”

  McKell bent in a formal bow. “I’m right here, Princess.”

  “Take her away, then.” Clearly assuming her orders would be obeyed, Jalyn cast a sultry gaze at Devyn. “As that’s settled, it’s time to see to you…”

  De-Ella reached out and fisted his shirt. “Just give us five minutes, and we’ll remind you what you liked most about us.”

  “I. Will. Not. Be. Ignored. Time to show you the story,” Bride said, and it was the only warning she gave of her intentions. One moment she was beside Devyn, seemingly calm as could be, and the next she had her arms locked around De-Ella’s waist, both women soaring through the air.

  They crashed into the wall, De-Ella’s head and back taking most of the force. When she realized what was happening, Jalyn shrieked and launched into the fray. The three rolled on the floor, punching and biting at each other, clawing and cursing.

  “Bitch,” he thought he heard Bride growl. She raked her nails across De-Ella’s cheek, and blood welled. Pride lanced through him.

  De-Ella grabbed a clump of her hair and jerked. Rage joined the pride, and he growled.

  “You’ll pay for that,” Bride snarled before latching onto the vampire’s wrist and crushing the bone. More pride.

  There was a howl of pain. “I’ll kill you! Do you hear me? I’ll kill you!” Jalyn elbowed her in the stomach.

  More rage. Scowling, he clasped onto their energy molecules, freezing all three in place. They were tangled together, Bride’s eyes bright red and filled with the same intense agony he’d seen the first time she’d climaxed for him.

  He was moving forward, determined to break them up and ease whatever was troubling Bride. The few punches she’d taken wouldn’t cause that amount of suffering.

  “No. You mustn’t. She must prove her strength.” McKell’s clamped onto his shoulder, stopping him. “If she doesn’t, if you step in, they will be considered the victors, and to the victor goes the spoils. All that is hers will then belong to them. Including you.”

  As if. “I’d think that would make you happy,” he said, shaking off the warrior’s hold.

  “I won’t deny it. But Bride’s life here would be miserable.”

  “She won’t be living here,” Devyn said. “If you’d like me to communicate that through interpretive dance so that you better understand, I’m happy to perform.”

  One second Devyn’s left eye felt fine, normal, and the next it felt tender and swollen again, as it had when he’d first entered the cave. As many times as he’d been hit in his long life, he knew the sensation. And he’d definitely been hit. He’d never seen McKell move, which meant the bastard had stopped time.

  Damn if he didn’t admire the vampire for it.

  “You don’t know she’ll return to the surface,” McKell said as if nothing had happened.

  “You’ve seen me, right? Trust me, where I go, she’ll go.”

  “How does she stand your ego?” McKell waved a hand through the air. “Never mind. Don’t answer. Just think of it this way. If the king gives her to you, and she ever wishes to return here, which she might, she will be teased and insulted and tormented. They will never leave her alone. Nor will their friends. She will be fair game to the males, considered weak and in need of a master.”

  For any other lover, he would have laughed, even enjoyed the show. Catfights were fun, after all. “It’s two against one.” More than that, Bride was hurting.

  “Yes, and next time it will be five against one. Unless she proves herself.”

  Devyn drew in a breath, then slowly released it—and the women. The fight resumed as if it had never paused.

  Bride swung her leg around and kicked De-Ella in the stomach. He wanted to cheer. She spun and elbowed Jalyn in the jaw. He did cheer. The older De-Ella possessed a speed Bride hadn’t yet achieved and raced behind her, grabbing her around the middle and sinking her teeth into Bride’s exposed neck.

  When Bride reached behind to grab the vampire by the head and perhaps snap her neck, Jalyn seized her wrist and twisted, perhaps breaking the bone.

  “That will teach you to challenge your betters, little Bride.”

  Devyn stepped forward again, then managed to catch himself. His hands were clenched into fists. His teeth were digging into his bottom lip. She’s a fast healer, he reminded himself. She’ll be fine.

  Bride wrenched free of Jalyn’s hold, and even though her hand was damaged, she grabbed De-Ella’s head as she’d first intended and jerked. The vampiress soared over her shoulder and slapped into the ground. Bride stomped on the woman’s trachea exactly as he’d once wanted to do to Nolan even while dragging a shocked Jalyn to her and viciously sinking her fangs into the woman’s neck.

  She sucked so savagely, the vampire could not even struggle because struggling only anchored Bride deeper. Soon Jalyn went limp, and her eyes closed. Bride dropped her, spit out the blood, and lowered that gleaming red gaze to De-Ella.

  Pride, much greater than before, swam through him. She’d done it. Two against one, and she’d kicked major ass. Oh, yes. That’s my girl.

  “Do we understand each other?” Bride said, rubbing her chest.

  “Y-yes.”

  She stomped to Devyn, and halted only when she was a whisper away. The hand at her chest never ceased moving. “Thorns,” she said. She sounded more animal than human—or rather, vampire—just then. Looked it, too. Blood was smeared over her lips and chin, and her fangs were longer and sharper than ever.

  “Thorns?” He didn’t wait for her response, but cupped her jaw, fingers spanning up and tracing over her cheeks, thumbs wiping the blood from her mouth. “Explain, and I’ll kiss it better.”

  “Actually, you won’t touch her again without my permission,” a hard voice rang out from behind him.

  A hush fell over the room. Devyn and Bride turned. Paling, McKell bowed submissively. De-Ella lumbered to her knees. Jalyn was still out cold.

  The king had arrived.

  CHAPTER 25

  Bride struggled to regain control of herself. There was a haze of red behind her eyes, a throb in her neck and knuckles, and a burn in her lungs. The thorns surrounding the source of her buried abilities were savagely scraping against her, harder than ever before.

  Despite the newcomer’s demand for Devyn to keep his hands to himself, he reached out and twined their fingers, his thumb caressing her wrist in comfort. That helped enough that she was able to subdue most of her pain.

  “Majesty,” he said respectfully, inclining his head in greeting.

  The vampire king, she realized. There was something she needed to do…something important…She drew a deep breath in through her nose, held it…held it…released it slowly. Her muscles eased their vise grip on her bones, and her gaze cleared. What did she need to—blank her mind! Yes, that was it. Blank her mind because the king, Manus, was a thought reader.

  “Majesty,” she said, curtsying as she’d seen women do in movies. Her legs shook.

  When she straightened, the ruler of her people came into view. He was tall, taller even than Devyn, with pale, shaggy hair and eyes of black velvet. They would have been devil eyes, if not for the thick frame of lashes around them.

  His lips were stained red, as if he’d just eaten. His features were perfect, carved from marble and as pale as his hair. He possessed muscle stacked upon muscle, but that was not what gave him such an air of strength. It was the magic humming from him, so vibrant she could actually hear it singing in her ears. And her ears liked it. Wanted more.

  “Your defiance is showing, Targon,” the king said to Devyn. There was a slight lifting of his lips. That was it, the only hint of his amusement. His features were too hard to reveal anything else.

  “And it’s as lovely as the rest of me, I’m sure.” Devyn, at least, sounded fully amused.

  “You haven’t changed, I see.”

 
Blank mind, blank mind.

  “Rise.” Manus waved his fingers to punctuate his command. “All of you. Then someone must explain why I was not greeted properly.”

  McKell straightened. He, too, seemed carved from marble just then. “We had every intention of seeking you out, Highness. We were simply waiting until the line thinned.”

  Manus wore a cape of black-and-gold velvet, the material thick and plush. It billowed at his feet, though he didn’t move. “There’s been much thought about the Targon’s arrival, but only a few have wondered at the girl with him, a stranger to our land. I didn’t believe it, of course, because everyone in this room knows visitors are forbidden.” There at the end, his voice had hardened menacingly. “Who and what is she?”

  “She is vampire,” McKell said. “Meant to remain here.”

  You little shit, Bride thought, wanting to slam her fist into his teeth so that he’d have trouble talking for a while.

  “Is she?” Those obsidian eyes slid to the puncture wounds on the female Bride had bitten. “Raised on Earth, found by the Targon. You both want her, and you both expect me to declare who she will stay with. You both expect to be chosen.”

  Silence.

  Thick, heavy.

  Bride gulped, no longer quite so confident of her ability to tell this man where he could roast. Mind blank.

  “Step forward, Bride of the surface.”

  Though she despised him for what he’d done to her mother—mind blank, damn it—she only hesitated for a second. Devyn released her reluctantly, giving her a final squeeze. In this underground, the king’s word was law. He decided who lived and who died. Who stayed and who was allowed to leave.

  When she was a few inches away, she stopped. He was just so big. His body consumed her personal space. Mind blank. But even as she commanded it, thoughts swam through her head. If he tried to hurt Devyn, she would tear this place apart.

  He frowned down at her.

  Oh, God. He heard. Beads of sweat broke out over her brow, and she stepped backward before she could stop herself. I wish he couldn’t hear my thoughts. And she didn’t care what the consequences were of that.

  “Be still,” he commanded. He reached out and placed his fingertips at her temples. His skin was dry and cool. His frown intensified. “Have you no opinions?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your mind is blocked to me.”

  It was? Her wish had worked? Don’t smile. “Huh. Interesting,” was all she said, as deadpan as possible, but she thought, How’s this for an opinion? Your people and their eating habits suck. And I don’t mean that literally.

  No reaction.

  She couldn’t help herself. She smiled.

  Sparks of white suddenly dotted the darkness of his eyes. “Your smile is lovely. However, I do not like your ability to keep me out.” His head tilted to the side. “But generous as I am, I will allow it.”

  Wow. Finally she’d met someone more assured of his own goodness and superiority than Devyn. “Thanks.”

  “Guards,” he called, and Bride stiffened. He didn’t look away from her as a flood of armed vampires marched into the room. They lined the wall, awaiting their king’s command. “Before we get to know one another, your companions must be dealt with.”

  “Whatever you’re planning, I won’t allow it,” she said, violently shaking her head, backing away.

  “Silence.” The king’s mouth, hard already with disapproval, hardened further. “Targon, you purchased two vampires from an auction and gave them to your friends at AIR. That is a crime against my people. A crime you knew better than to commit.”

  “I was going to bring them back. Eventually,” Devyn said, unrepentant.

  “That hardly matters.” The king turned to McKell. “Thank you for projecting the information. However, your plan to ruin the Targon in my eyes has backfired, for you revealed your own involvement, as well. You allowed my people to be imprisoned without a fight.”

  McKell opened his mouth to protest.

  “No. Not a word from you.” With a nod to his guards, the king added, “Take them to my dungeon, where they will stay until I decide what to do with them.”

  “No! Don’t you dare move,” Bride cried. They ignored her, marching forward, closer…closer…“Devyn, stop them.”

  “Can’t,” he gritted out. “Their energy is scrambled.”

  “No!” Bride shouted. I wish Devyn was safe. I wish Devyn was safe. He remained in place, a target of those armed soldiers. “Please, no.” Her bravado was gone. “I’m begging you.” She hadn’t begged for anything since losing Macy. Not even Devyn’s touch. Now, helplessness bombarded her. “Please. Allow Devyn and me to return to the surface. Please.”

  The men didn’t pause, so she crouched, fangs bared, ready to fight them all if necessary. Devyn would rather die than be locked away, and she would rather die than let him.

  “No one touches the Targon,” she stated flatly. “He’s mine.”

  “No harm is to befall the female,” the king told his men, who reached their circle.

  Bride grabbed hold of one and flung him away. She did the same to another, and then another, until someone grabbed her—Devyn, she realized, catching his wild scent.

  “Do not fight this.” He released her and willingly stepped back amid the guards, allowing them to tie his wrists behind his back with a whip. McKell’s, too.

  What are you doing! she wanted to shout. Why are you so accepting?

  “As to why your ability doesn’t work, Devyn,” the king said. “I’ve been inside your mind before and learned how you do it. I have taken certain measures to ensure you are never so powerful in my palace again.”

  “Let him go, or I swear to God I will destroy you.” Her mouth was so dry, her tongue felt swollen. The thorns inside her had seemingly sprouted thorns of their own, scraping at her, stinging. She had to calm down. “He didn’t do anything wrong. I just wanted to see my birthplace and learn about my people. I can bring you the vampires. Just let him go. I wish you would let him go. Please.”

  “Too late,” the king replied. “AIR now knows we exist. The damage is done.”

  “They would have found out anyway! Your people have been attending auctions. In fact, AIR probably already knew, since they monitor that kind of criminal activity.”

  “Hush, love, and go with him,” Devyn told her. He even smiled at her when her gaze met his. “I’ll be fine.”

  White-hot tears burned her eyes, blurring her vision. No, he wouldn’t be fine. He would be in torment. My fault. This is all my fault. “I’ll go with him if he lets you return to the—”

  “Go with the king,” he interjected, steel in the words. “Do not worry about me.”

  Did Devyn have a plan? Of course he did, she thought next, finally calming. It probably involved seducing a female guard, but that was okay. Freedom was the only thing that mattered.

  “Fine,” she said, lifting her chin. Maybe, while she was with the king, she’d remove his heart—if he had one—and set it on fire. Just in case Devyn’s plan, whatever it was, fell through.

  “If, at any time, she harms me in any way,” the king told the guards, as if he could read her mind after all, “kill the Targon.”

  Bride nearly screeched in frustration and helplessness. Defeated before she’d even begun. No way would she risk Devyn’s life.

  What the hell was she going to do now?

  Bride was escorted to a room of black velvet. The walls were draped with it, the floor covered in it, and what little furniture there was—two chairs facing each other—were dripping with it. All that soft darkness made her feel like she was floating through a night sky, no end to her torment in sight.

  The king motioned her to the chairs.

  “Majesty,” she said, striving for a calm tone as she sat.

  “Please, call me Manus.” He claimed the other seat; then, with a wave, he dismissed the guard. They strutted from the room, leaving her alone with their sovereign.

&
nbsp; I never should have come here. Being parted from Devyn was torture. Not knowing what was being done to him was agony. Thinking of him in a dark hole was anguish. Worse, it was her fault. She’d wanted to come here. She’d wanted him with her. But she would have given up both for Devyn’s safety.

  I love him, she thought then. I love Devyn.

  Somehow, some way, he’d become the most important thing in her life. He was her home now. Not this place. Yes, she loved that there were other vampires here. Yes, she loved the darkness and the sweet scents and the closeness she felt to her mother. She loved that every question she’d ever had about what she was could be answered. Here, she wasn’t different, she wouldn’t be staked. But none of those things meant more to her than Devyn. The thought of being without him…she shuddered.

  “I brought you here so that we may chat in private,” the king said, breaking the silence.

  “I want Devyn released immediately. Then I’ll chat with you.”

  “He is not up for discussion,” was the harsh reply. “Do not mention him again.”

  Or what? Bastard. “Are you used to getting your way?”

  “Of course.” As if that settled things, Manus leaned back, crossed one ankle over his knee, and studied her. “Tell me about your life on the surface.”

  “If I do, will you have Devyn released?”

  She never saw him move, but the next thing she knew, her brain was rattling against her skull, her teeth were cutting into her gums, and she was propelled off her chair and onto the floor.

  There was a trickle of warmth at the corner of her mouth, and she knew it was blood. Shaking with anger, burning with the force of it, she wiped the smear with the back of her wrist and glared up at the king. “You slapped me.”

  “I warned you not to mention the Targon, and yet you persisted.” He was perched on his chair, in the same relaxed pose as before. “Persist again, and see what happens.” It was a challenge.

  She’d always liked sparring with Devyn. Even from the very beginning. This man? Not so much. “Devyn told me you were a great guy,” she said, climbing back into her chair. “I see our definitions of great differ.”