“Mmm, sweetheart,” she murmured in his ear. “You take me to the nicest places. How was your day?”
The big Kindred turned his head and looked at her in apparent surprise. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to get so thoroughly into the role he had assigned her but Vicky was having fun. Maybe it was the three daiquiris she’d had or maybe it was her sense of adventure, but in her opinion, the night was finally looking up.
“Um…I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself, baby,” he murmured back.
“I really am.” Vicky was either too tipsy or feeling too reckless not to be candid. “My date for Valentine’s Day stood me up. I was feeling miserable until you came over and grabbed me.”
The Kindred looked at her with real interest in his midnight-blue eyes.
“It seems I picked a good partner in crime.”
Vicky widened her eyes at him.
“Are we committing a crime, then? Are those two weird twin guys some kind of intergalactic police come to get you?”
He shifted uneasily beside her.
“Not exactly. They—”
Just then one of the copy/paste twins that the Kindred had called Varians turned his head and caught sight of them.
“There.” He stuck his arm straight out and pointed right at their booth.
“Yes, there,” the other twin agreed, pointing also.
Both of them turned in exact unison and marched towards the booth, much to Vicky’s dismay.
The Kindred cursed in some low, guttural language she didn’t know and then grabbed her hand under the table.
“Hide this for me, will you?” he muttered from the corner of his mouth. “And be prepared—things might get ugly.”
Things were already ugly as far as Vicky could tell. But she kept a straight face and took the object—which felt warm and heavy and metallic in her palm. It was about the size of a golf ball but her dress had no pockets to slip it into and the slim purse she was wearing draped across her shoulder had a loud zipper that was sure to draw attention. Crap, what was she going to do? Then she had a thought.
Under the cover of adjusting the V neck of her dress, Vicky surreptitiously dropped the heavy little object into her bra, right between her breasts. Hopefully nobody would think to look for it there.
The strangely identical men had reached the booth now.
“You are the one,” the man on the left said in a strangely flat voice. “You have stolen the T’lix-Kruthe, a most valuable and rare artifact. Return it now or face the consequences.”
As he spoke, Vicky thought she saw his emotionless face flicker. Was there something with greenish scales beneath? Were his bland features only a mask? She didn’t know but one thing she was sure of—these were bad guys.
Just being near them gave her a bad feeling in her gut and part of her wanted to rush out of the booth and run for cover. But she wasn’t a coward—and also, she admitted to herself, she was more than a little tipsy. So instead of making a run for it, she spoke up.
“How dare you disturb my husband and me on our anniversary?” she demanded, glaring at the copy/paste twins.
The identical faces swiveled to face her. Without changing expression or inflection, the first twin asked, “Who are you? Why are you protecting this thief?”
Thief, huh? Well, that was something to file away for future thought. But right now, Vicky was too into her part to quit.
“I think the question is who are you?” she exclaimed, putting a hand on her hip and glaring at the two of them. “This is the first night we’ve had off in weeks and I refuse to let it be ruined by a couple of jerks! Get out of here right now or I’ll call the manager and have him throw you out!”
The two men stepped back in apparent confusion. They turned their heads to confer and once more Vicky saw what she now thought of as their “human masks” flicker. There were definitely scales under there. And also slitted yellow eyes, like a lizard’s. Vicky repressed an internal shiver. Yup, these were bad guys for sure.
For a moment it seemed like her verbal assault had deterred the copy/paste twins. But then they took a simultaneous step towards the booth again and both pointed at the big Kindred.
“This is not true—you are not mated to this male. You are perpetrating an untruth to confuse and distract.”
“Is that right?” the Kindred asked, arching one dark eyebrow at them. “You’re accusing my lovely mate of being a liar? You think we’re not really together?”
“Most certainly you are not,” one of the twins said. “You have only just met her.”
“But if I wasn’t mated to her, would I do this?”
The big Kindred pulled Vicky close and returned her earlier kiss—but on the lips.
Vicky felt her breath hitch in her throat as his mouth met hers. The kiss was gentle yet firm and he seemed to be really enjoying himself. Still half tipsy, she kissed him back and for a moment, forgot all about the weird alien twins standing in front of them.
His lips parted and his tongue teased the seam of her lips, asking for entrance. With a little moan, Vicky opened for him. God, he tasted as good as he smelled! Spicy and hot—a little like cinnamon, she decided. Reaching up, she ran a hand through his thick, wild hair and drew him closer.
It was the first kiss she’d had in years—other than a perfunctory peck on the cheek, which was what her sex life with Kevin had been reduced to before they split—and she was thoroughly enjoying it.
Unfortunately, she didn’t get to enjoy it for long because the copy/paste twins interrupted her.
“This is nothing but a diversion,” the first twin declared, looking at the Kindred. “You will hand over the T’lix-Kruthe and come with us at once.”
“But I don’t have any T’lix-Kruthe, whatever that is!” the Kindred exclaimed, all wide-eyed innocence. “You can search me if you want.” Then he pulled Vicky even closer and murmured in her ear. “Watch my body—I’m going to create a distraction for a minute. When I do, get out of this place and run. I’ll find you later.”
Vicky looked at him with wide eyes, not sure what to make of this. What had he meant when he asked her to “watch his body?”
But just then, the big Kindred seemed to go to sleep all at once. At least, he slumped in his seat and his eyes closed while his breathing grew heavy and deep. It was either sleep or sudden unconsciousness, Vicky thought.
Suddenly one of the copy/paste twins stood up straighter and looked at the other.
“You know,” he said in a conversational voice much different from the flat tone he had been using. “I believe him. I think we’re bothering the wrong male. We ought to just leave this nice couple alone and let them enjoy the anniversary of their joining.”
“What are you speaking of?” the other demanded. “This is obviously the thief. We have tracked him halfway across the galaxy and now you wish to give up?”
“I don’t think it’s him,” the other twin said, shrugging. “I really don’t—we should just go. Come on—let’s head back to the ship.”
He started for the door but then something seemed to happen to his body. One leg moved forward, while the other seemed to be trying to move back. It was almost as though his body was fighting with itself, Vicky thought, watching in fascination. As though one half of him was trying to leave while the other half wanted to stay.
The other copy/paste twin seemed to notice the same thing.
“Are you well?” he asked his twin, frowning. “You are behaving in a very strange manner.”
“I…we…we should go,” the first twin panted. His body was stretched out now, as though invisible hands were pulling him in two different directions. “We should…” He threw back his head and suddenly howled, “Get out of my head!”
Vicky stared at him, shocked, as he stumbled and fell to his knees, clutching the sides of his head. His human mask flickered again—showing a scaly, lizard-like visage with slitted yellow eyes.
At the same time, the Kindred warrior beside her seemed t
o suddenly wake up. He looked at Vicky, frowning.
“Why didn’t you run?” he demanded.
“Well, I—”
“Hang on—I’m going into the other one. This time when I do, you get out of here!”
Then he slumped in his seat again and appeared to go back to sleep.
Suddenly, the second copy/paste twin straightened up and looked down at the one which was still crouching on the ground.
“You don’t look so good, brother,” he said, reaching for his friend. “Come—let’s get you back to the ship and seek some medical attention.”
“I do not know…I feel strange.” The first twin looked up again, his mask still flickering. “The Kindred—he was inside my brain. He made me say and do things I did not wish to say or do.”
“Yes, yes, of course he was,” the other twin said soothingly. “Which is all the more reason to get away from him and seek medical help. Come on.”
“But…but the T’lix-Kruthe—our greatest treasure!” the first twin protested.
“We’ll find it later. Let’s go.” The second twin continued to tug at his arm insistently.
By this time, Vicky saw, they had drawn the attention of the burly bartender and several of the other bar patrons. There were unfriendly stares and whispers as one twin helped the other to his feet and the two of them walked towards the door.
She looked back and forth between the apparently sleeping Kindred and the copy/paste twins. What was the first one saying about the Kindred getting into his head? Was that even possible? What was going on here?
Belatedly, she realized she had been told to leave during the distraction. Now would seem to be the perfect time to get away.
Still keeping half an eye on the apparently sleeping Kindred, she slipped out of the booth and began edging towards the door. But the copy/paste twins were in the way and now the second one seemed to be having the same problem the first one had.
He seemed to be at war with himself, first reaching for the door handle, then turning back towards the table where the big warrior still slumped. Meanwhile, the other twin was still clutching his head as though he had a terrible headache.
Vicky stood there watching them indecisively—should she try to get past them and get out the door? By now she wanted to get away from the whole mess. Pretending to be the big Kindred’s girlfriend had been fun, especially when he kissed her. But what she’d seen beneath the human masks of the weird alien twins was enough to make her want to go home, lock herself safely away, and curl up with a hot cup of tea.
As she watched, the twins continued to struggle.
“Let’s go,” the second one said. “Let’s…let’s…” He seemed to be fighting with himself as his twin watched him suspiciously.
“Grizok, is that you?” he demanded. “You are speaking strangely. Is the Kindred in your head?”
“No, of course not,” the second twin denied. But the next minute, he doubled over, clutching the sides of his skull and groaning. Then he straightened up again and looked at Vicky. “Run!” he commanded her.
By this time, Vicky understood that it wasn’t the freaky copy/paste twin talking to her—it was the Kindred who had somehow taken over the alien’s body. Her paralysis seemed to break and she ran, dashing around the two weird alien twins and reaching for the door.
The first twin tried to grab her but the second one snatched his twin’s hand away as its clawed fingers—because they were claws now, not human hands, Vicky saw—caught in the fabric of her red dress.
“Run!” he grated again. “I can’t hold him for long!” And then he doubled over in pain just as Vicky opened the door.
Immediately the first twin grabbed her dress again.
“You’re not going anywhere Earth female,” he snarled, his mask slipping again so that just for a moment she was staring into his lizard-yellow eyes. “You are with the Kindred which means you must be searched.”
“Let me go!” Vicky kicked out at him but he wouldn’t let go of her dress. As she pulled, she heard a ripping sound coming from the thin red fabric.
“Hey, what’s going on there? Leave the lady alone.”
The commotion had finally caused a reaction. Looking up, Vicky saw the large bartender—a man with tattoos up and down every inch of his burly arms—coming out from behind the long wooden bar. He was wiping his hands on a clean white dishtowel and his face looked like a thundercloud.
“Stay out of this, Earth male—it does not concern you!” hissed the lizard twin with his claws hooked in Vicky’s dress.
“Let her go!” the other twin exclaimed. Then he clutched at his head and snarled, “Get her! She must not be allowed to escape!”
“I said, hands off the lady!” the bartender bellowed. He grabbed the twin who was holding onto Vicky but the alien shifted in his grasp, as fast as a snake. Pulling a weapon that looked like a sleek, silver pen from somewhere he pointed it at the bartender and pressed one end of it.
A finely collimated beam of bright blue light shot out of the other end of the silver pen and suddenly the bartender had a gaping hole in his thick midsection.
But it didn’t look like a shotgun blast or any other kind of wound made by a gun, Vicky saw with horror. The hole was perfectly neat and clean and the wound was sealed. It looked like someone had taken a volley-ball sized cookie cutter and neatly cut a round chunk out of the bartender’s body, right at the midsection. Vicky could look right through him and see the shocked face of another bar patron where the man’s belly button ought to have been.
“Hey, what…” The bartender looked down at himself unbelievingly. He stared at the neat hole where his guts should have been. “The fuck?” he muttered and then fell to his knees.
This was enough for Vicky. She’d had plenty of adventure for one night, thank you very much. Despite the claws still hooked in her dress, she yanked open the door of the Last Call Bar and ran out into the night.
The alien twin made a hissing exclamation and there was a loud ripping sound as the back of the sexy red wrap dress was shredded beyond repair.
Well, there was definitely no returning it now.
Vicky didn’t care—she just wanted to get the hell out of there. Stumbling in her heels, she ran down the street as a narrow beam of blue light passed right by her left ear. In front of her, a large hole appeared in the middle of a tall metal lamp post. The light went out as the top of the pole crashed down into the street, right onto the top of a passing car.
The car slammed to a halt and the one behind it crunched into it. A third car right behind the second joined the pile-up as well.
Vicky ran past the honking and swearing, only pausing for a moment to kick off her shoes—the heels were too high and it was a wonder she hadn’t twisted an ankle yet—before running on.
Have to get home! Have to get home! The words beat like a mantra behind her eyes. Her heart was hammering and she felt like a hunted thing looking for somewhere to hide.
She came to the end of the block and rounded it quickly to put more distance between herself and the aliens. The copy/paste twins were killers and she needed to get out of here if she didn’t want to be their next victim.
She hadn’t been consciously running for her car and when she came to it, she almost passed right by it in her panic. But her brain finally registered the lines of her beat-up brown Honda Civic and she skidded to a halt, breathing hard.
Thank God! Fumbling in her little purse, she found her keys and pressed the fob to unlock the car. As she slid behind the wheel, she saw another beam of brilliant light in the street she’d just left. This one hit a squat blue mailbox on the corner and also a fire hydrant.
Letters fell out in a flood just as a spout of water shot up into the air. Vicky had a moment to wonder why the alien weapon had so neatly sealed the wound it had made in the bartender but hadn’t sealed the holes it had made in the inanimate objects, but then she was driving—driving for her life.
She just had to get home, where
they couldn’t find her, she told herself. She just had to get home and then everything would be all right.
She hoped.
Three
Chainor knew he had to get to the Varians and eliminate them quickly—before they got to the curvy Earth female whose name he had never even learned before he thrust the T’lix-Kruthe into her hands and placed her very life in danger.
In his defense, he’d never intended her to hold the stolen artifact for long. He had believed he would be able to get inside the Varians’ minds and convince them to go back to where they’d come from before anyone got hurt.
As an M-Switch Kindred, that was his specialty—allowing his consciousness to leave his own body and inhabit the body of another male. Using this natural ability, he was usually able to make his host do most anything he suggested to them.
But the Varians had been tough—maybe because they were a reptilian species and their brains were so different from his own. They were colder—more logical and linear than a warm, feeling mammalian brain. In fact, just being inside them had made Chain feel like he’d taken a bath in icy slime. Fucking disgusting.
He had no time for disgust now, however. He had to get to the little Earth female. Though she was not so little as most, Chain had to admit to himself as he stood outside the establishment where he’d first met her and raised his nose to the wind, trying to catch her scent. Many Earth females were so small and fragile-looking he was afraid he might break them if he got too close. But not her—she’d been substantial in a way he found immensely appealing.
At nearly seven standard feet and with the heavy musculature of all Kindred males, Chain was no lightweight himself. But the Earth female had been what the Twin Kindred called an “Elite”—one blessed by the Goddess with full and bountiful curves. Just the memory of her in that tight red dress made him half-hard all over again, though he told himself he needed to concentrate.
There had been several unattached females sitting in the bar but he had zeroed in on her immediately. With her full curves and that striking silver streak in her dark hair, he’d been unable to resist her.
Stealing Her Heart Page 2