The Minister's Manipulation: (An Alpha Alien Romance Novel)

by Liza Probz

  They held me prisoner. Played with my mind like it was a child’s toy. They’ve killed untold numbers of victims, taken over world after world to fit their agenda of commanding and controlling the galaxy.

  I will fight them with every fiber of my being, even if that means parading around inside a Hareema corpse.

  Whatever it takes.

  There was no doubt in Drake’s mind that NASA had been infiltrated. There had been Hareema on the rescue ship sent after Sylvie, Jamie’s sister, disappeared, after all. And Sylvie’s ship itself had been connected with the failure of the Zantharian defense shield.

  Although it was unlikely the ship itself had caused the shield to fail, the coordination it would have taken to drop the shield at the precise moment the Earthling ship entered Zanthar’s atmosphere required that the Hareema have precise knowledge of Earth’s plans regarding space travel.

  These facts pointed to Hareema agents having taken up residence on Earth. The pieces fit. Still, it wasn’t enough to give Drake a full picture of the situation. Random puzzle pieces still floated around, seemingly without a connection.

  Drake had learned from Ontarii and his human mate, Captain Brooklyn, that the FIDOs on her ship had somehow been able to distinguish human from a Hareema shape-shifter in human form. Although Zantharian scientists had been looking into the makeup of the defense robots, they so far had no leads on what tipped the FIDOs off, as the Earth robots did not have means of scanning DNA.

  And then there was the most troubling advancement of the Hareema in the last hundred years. They were no longer vulnerable to Zantharian bioelectricity.

  For decades, the Zantharians’ inborn ability to project bioenergy had protected them from a full-scale Hareema invasion. When a shape-shifter was hit with bioelectricity, it was forced to revert to its original form, a six-foot tall block of red jelly.

  However, recent developments now made them impervious to bioelectric attack. During his last days as a Hareema prisoner, Drake had seen Hareema fight off an electrical attack. Although not all Hareema seemed able to do so, as those on Captain Brooklyn’s ship and the Zantharian flagship had proven, it seemed likely that it wouldn’t be long before all Hareema were upgraded with the defensive capability to withstand bioelectricity.

  How long would it be before they made a full-force invasion of Drake’s planet? Not long, he supposed.

  That’s what made Drake’s mission so vital.

  It was growing darker, and with the departure of twilight, a stiff breeze had started kicking up the streets. Drake’s steps slowed, and he lingered to take in the sights around him.

  Earth was so different from Zanthar. So much land, so little sea, compared to his own planet which was almost entirely water. Zantharians were most comfortable under the swirling surface of their oceans, and almost all of their structures were deep under the waves.

  But here, tall structures made from materials dragged out of the earth, sprung up all around him. He felt strangely exposed, walking the streets where vehicles and pedestrians teemed around him.

  The buildings on his home world seemed somehow more delicate, more organic, than the concrete and brick ones surrounding him now. Most had been tunneled out of the rock and coral, a warren of hallways and chambers. On Zanthar, the people were enclosed, in their caves and under the water.

  But here, on Earth, the open sky oppressed him in ways he’d never experienced back home.

  He found himself on a busy street, full of shops and eateries. He recognized the area as Georgetown, not far from the university. Well-dressed men and women strode in and out of storefronts and restaurants, talking quietly and walking with a purpose that was lacking in his own meandering steps.

  Drake found himself peering into windows as he walked, trying to relate to the humans around him. They often seemed obsessed with inconsequential things, like acquiring and consuming cheap goods and gadgets. He idly wondered if their forays into space would change that mindset, now that the universe was at their doorstep.

  Easing his way around an older woman laden with shopping bags from exclusive boutiques, he marveled again at the human penchant for purchasing and surrounding oneself with so many things. Always on to the newest, the brightest, the rarest. His thoughts naturally ran back to Jamie, who seemed to excel at such behavior.

  She was always immaculately attired, endlessly searching for new trends to be on the vanguard of. While such behavior would be looked upon as foolish by most Zantharians, for some reason Drake found it oddly endearing. She was just so good at it.

  He realized suddenly, as he came to a stop outside the floor to ceiling windows of an eatery he was passing, that the object of his thoughts was seated inside. He’d know that shock of red hair anywhere, the reflected light from the candles on the tables seeming to see her locks ablaze.

  Drake couldn’t help himself. He stopped and stared, his eyes taking in her elegant form like a man gulping the air after being submerged beneath the waves for too long. She was just so beautiful. Flawless skin, shapely limbs, and a smile that made his chest ache.

  A smile that she was currently gifting to the man seated across from her. Lance Cargraves. A scowl took residence on his face as he watched Lance return the smile with a charming one of his own.

  Drake knew he should hurry on his way, but his body refused to obey him. He’d never felt such longing for another before. It made him feel irritated, out of sorts, no longer in control of his own actions.

  Suddenly his obsession turned her head, her eyes meeting his. Drake was frozen, staring into their gorgeous green depths. Then he caught the look of recognition that entered her eyes and was hit with a jolt.

  Get out of here, Drake, he told himself. You’re endangering the mission, standing here like a dolphin in rut.

  But he couldn’t make himself move. He stared as if to memorize the perfection of her features.

  He noticed that a faint blush started to tinge her pale skin, and that hint of color caused a strong reaction. He could feel the blood racing to his cock, making it ache with an agony he’d felt too often the last six weeks.

  Too soon, Jamie’s head turned away, and she responded slowly to a question from Cargraves. Drake caught a look of concern on the astronaut’s face, and suddenly his body was once more his to control. He moved from the window and picked up his pace, walking swiftly down the street and towards the nearest Metro entrance.

  His heart was beating fast, he threw himself into the hard plastic seat and focused on slowing his respiration. Drake wanted to punish himself, to hit his fists against his stupid head. His whole mission hinged on his being able to blend in, to not alert his targets of his presence.

  Instead, he’d stared at Jamie from the street. It was a wonder he hadn’t been drooling when she’d locked eyes with him.

  You have to focus, he admonished himself. The fate of multiple worlds hangs in the balance.

  And yet, as the train swayed towards his stop, it wasn’t thoughts of his mission that filled his mind. It was the memory of a woman, beautiful but untouchable.

  Noruma, how I want to touch her.

  Chapter 5

  Jamie tossed and turned in the bed that night, uncomfortable and on edge for reasons she didn’t understand. She’d lost plenty of sleep after the discovery that her sister was missing in outer space, but this didn’t feel like the same thing.

  Lance had dropped her off on the doorstep of her spacious one-bedroom, NASA-sponsored apartment. He’d given her a chaste kiss on the cheek before reminding her of his early morning meeting and jogging back down the walk to his car.

  She wasn’t used to this lack of physicality in a relationship, especially considering how strapping and manly her fiancé appeared. In the past, Jamie had always found herself attached to one handsome guy after another, and she’d never been shy about going after whatever, and whomever, she wanted.

  But Lance wasn’t like her previous boyfriends who’d often had a problem keeping their hands off of
her. Instead, her fiancé was the type that seemed satisfied with occasional kisses and hand-holding.

  She assumed he was a traditional male, a conservative who waited until after marriage to reveal his sordid sexuality. Jamie almost laughed, considering what kinkiness a mathematician turned space explorer might be hiding.

  Usually, the absence of sex in a relationship would have worried her, but she was strangely glad Lance hadn’t pursued that sort of connection with her yet.

  There was nothing wrong with how he looked; on the contrary, Jamie knew plenty of women who lusted after the dashing spaceman. And yet, she wasn’t really one of them. She’d fallen into a relationship with Lance because, perhaps for the first time in her life, she’d needed some stability in her life. Someone she could turn to in a new city. Someone well-connected who could help her find her sister.

  It had seemed foolish to turn down his proposal when he was her best chance of getting Sylvie back. Now she drifted along in a relationship that was safe but passionless.

  Perhaps this is best, she thought, reflecting on the guys that had come before Lance. They’d always been attractive, some rich, some exciting, a few with enough confidence to overcome whatever other deficiencies they might have.

  But none had stuck around.

  No, that was wrong. She hadn’t stuck around. Jamie always went into relationships with no plans for anything more than casual dating and mutual enjoyment. There was always a sense of finality about them, including her current engagement. At some point, usually after a few weeks or months, the relationship unraveled, mostly amicably, and both parties went their separate ways.

  If she were willing to admit it to herself, she might realize that the same was likely to happen with Lance after Sylvie was brought home again. Would she still seek safety and stability once her universe was righted? Or would she go back to frivolous relationships and a life spent flitting from trend to trend, from man to man, out of restlessness?

  Jamie cast her mind to picturing her fiancé. He was tall, well-built, with an easy smile and kind eyes. But in that moment, when she was trying to remember their exact shade of blue, another pair of eyes sprung into her thoughts.

  They were much darker eyes, filled with steely determination. She realized they belonged to the man who had saved her from the assault earlier in the day. And then she’d seen him, outside the restaurant during her dinner with Lance.

  The man was entirely average. Average height. Average build. Just another bland face in the crowd.

  So why had her eyes locked onto his like an arrow seeking its target?

  And why had she felt like she was the one being hit when her gaze met his?

  There was something decidedly out of the ordinary with her Average Joe. For one, why had he turned up outside that restaurant?

  She could believe their encounter earlier was coincidental. He’d been a Good Samaritan, in the right place at the right time to come to the aid of a damsel in distress.

  But to see him again that same night skirted the realms of chance. Sure, it could be synchronicity. Or maybe it was something more…sinister.

  Since her sister had gone missing and she’d been trying to get her back, Jamie had repeatedly encountered the stone wall of bureaucracy. Even with her connected fiancé and her tireless efforts at the highest levels of NASA, she’d gotten few results. Just empty assurances that everyone was doing the best they could to bring Sylvie home.

  The lack of progress was frustrating, but it wasn’t the only thing worrying her. At times, she could swear there was something else going on, something she was being kept out of the loop on. Although she was far from a conspiracy nut, Jamie could swear that they weren’t telling her everything.

  It was in the pregnant looks that passed between NASA’s director and his underlings, Lance included. In the way they fell silent when she passed by, waiting to resume their conversations until after she’d gone.

  And it was in the feeling that hit her, in random moments. The feeling of being watched.

  Perhaps the Average Joe was part of the conspiracy. Maybe he was meant to watch over her, keep her out of the bigwigs’ hair while they took care of business.

  Jamie stared at the ceiling, vowing then to be more observant. She would determine whether Average Joe’s appearance had been mere chance or whether it was something more.

  With a disgruntled groan, she turned over, punching at her pillow and trying to find a more comfortable position. But, as it had been since the day she’d gotten word of Sylvie’s disappearance, things still seemed off.

  Although she would have refused to admit it, Jamie had always admired her older sister. It had been Sylvie’s perfectly stable life that had made it possible for her to live her decidedly unstable one.

  Sylvie had always been there for her, to help with rent, to give her advice (which Jamie happily ignored), and to chastise her for failing to settle down into a routine, any routine.

  If only you could see boring old me now, Jamie thought. A part-time job as a buyer’s consultant for a major retail clothing chain. Days spent pounding the pavement at various government administrative offices, begging for attention and assistance at finding her big sister. Although it might chafe to admit it, this was the closest thing to a routine she’d had since she’d moved out on her own at 17.

  Jamie and Sylvie had lost their parents when they were teens. Sylvie was in her last year of high school and had promptly asked for accelerated coursework to finish ahead of the rest of her class. She’d had an early acceptance to MIT to study biology, and she’d brought Jamie to Boston with her, where she’d worked hard to take her courses during the day, study, and still hold down two part-time jobs to supplement her scholarships and keep a roof over their heads.

  And instead of appreciating all the things Sylvie did for her, Jamie had done nothing but complain. By the time she was a senior in high school, she’d informed her sister that she was moving in with her older boyfriend.

  That boyfriend had led to a string of other boys, to roommates and couch-surfing, and finally to a small studio apartment packed to the gills with clothing and nonsense. Now, ten years later, Jamie realized that Sylvie wasn’t there to save her from her mistakes, to loan her money for rent or a new interview outfit as she moved from one dead-end retail job to another.

  Now Jamie was the one who was responsible for not only herself but for getting her sister back. Sylvie had left her with some large, and sensible, shoes to fill, but this time she wouldn’t give up.

  This time she’d prove to her sister, and herself, that she could get the job done.

  If only I could get some sleep, she thought with a wry smile. A peek at her phone told it was close to two. Jamie sat up, deciding to give up on sleep. She grabbed her tablet, figuring now was as good a time as any to do some work.

  She scrolled through fashion blogs, designer’s web pages, collections, and magazine sites, her eyes trained for something fresh. Something new.

  A blond model dressed in a tight-fitting jumpsuit against a barren backdrop reminded her of her sister. I bet Sylvie’s seeing something new. Something none of us has ever seen before.

  I just hope she lives to tell about it.

  Chapter 6

  Drake waited until he saw Jamie and her fiery curls board the Metro before he jumped on, a car behind. He stood so that he could make out his prey through the windows of the adjoining cars, but out of her sight through the crush of humanity.

  He watched her stand and approach the doors sooner than he’d expected. Jamie generally only frequented a few places around town: her apartment, NASA headquarters, and the upscale shopping district near the city center. But today she hopped off at the Smithsonian stop.

  Cursing under his breath, Drake pushed his way off the train, barely jumping off before the doors closed behind him.

  Jamie was headed towards the escalators and Drake followed, feeling more at ease than normal in the confines of the subway stop. The curving ivory ce
iling reminded him of home. The feeling didn’t last long, however, as the escalators led above ground and out into the wide-open spaces.

  Drake stared up at the overcast sky for a moment, feeling exposed. Taking a deep breath, he craned his neck around to find Jamie. She was making her way across the busy street, her steps filled with purpose.

  Maneuvering around a yellow and red hot dog cart, Drake jogged across the street until he wasn’t far behind. He followed her as she made her way into the gate in front of a large red brick edifice identified as the Smithsonian Castle.

  Drake stayed behind a group of younger humans in matching uniforms. Schoolchildren, I think they’re called. The group provided cover as he watched Jamie walk around the gardens and head around the side of the castle.

  Picking up his pace, he rounded the castle’s corner and found another busy street, which Jamie had just crossed. He recognized the area ahead of him: the National Mall, with its towering triangular moment at one end and the Hill on the other. The muted light made the grass a more vibrant green, just as it seemed to make sparks ignite in Jamie’s curls.

  His prey was walking slowly up one of the gravel paths and Drake paused, wondering for a moment how to proceed. The Mall was essentially a green space, with joggers and tourists sprinkled along the paths. It was late morning on a weekday, unfortunately, so there weren’t many people to blend in with. Should he continue to dog her footsteps, or would it make more sense to take a seat on a bench and pretend to study one of the landmarks around him?

  Drake stared down at his feet, trying to decide. So far, his quarry had been entirely predictable. She wasn’t too hard to trace, sticking mainly to busy locations, spending her time working, haunting NASA, or shopping. Now she seemed to be idly taking in the sights. What had inspired her sudden penchant for tourism?