Mesmerized by the Alien Mercenary

by Ashlyn Hawkes

  I do a few more small jobs, including helping to rescue Fluffy again—yes, I do let Abigail touch my abs again—but then I have a bit of a lull, so I buy an ax and chop down some trees. I’ll make myself a small little one-room shack to serve as my office for my mercenary work.

  It takes me a few more days to finish the shack, and I’ve just shut the door behind me to test that it works and realize I need a desk when there’s a knock.

  Confused, I open the door to see a man there. He has silver hair and a strange gleam in his eyes.

  “You’re the alien mercenary, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. The name’s Tox.”

  “I got a pic for you.” He reaches inside his jacket and removes a photo. He hands it to me, and I blink a few times in disbelief.

  It’s Sophia. She looks a bit different, considering the shawl’s concealing her a good bit, but there’s no mistaking those bedroom eyes of her.

  “I need you to track down this broad, and I need you to kill her for me.”

  “Kill her?” My head snaps up.

  “I know you don’t tend to go for those kinds of jobs, but I also heard that you want a particular house. How about you kill her, and I’ll buy you that house.”

  “Which house?” I ask suspiciously.

  “The one with the land, the columns, the six bedrooms… you know I know the one. We got ourselves a deal?” He holds out his hand.

  “I… I don’t even know your name,” I protest.

  “Do you need to know my name?”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “I need to know how to contact you if I accept the job.”

  "Accept the job first, and I'll tell you how to contact me. Honestly, though, I'll be keeping tabs on the whole operation, so you don't really have to be worried, do you?" He strokes his chin. "Although there is a bit of a time crunch, I suppose. Because that house is gorgeous, and I just might decide to buy it for myself. What do you think about that?"

  I grind my teeth. The whole point of wanting that house is to have it for my family, to make a life for myself here.

  And what? Continue to be a mercenary? Some of the jobs I’ve turned down are downright dangerous, but they do pay a pretty penny, and if I have as many kids as I’ve been thinking about, it’s a lot of mouths to eat. Will I want to continue to work a shit ton of low-paying gigs? Or will I opt for more dangerous ones? Will I have to find myself a different job if I want that family?

  Fuck. I’m going to have to find myself another wife if I accept this fucker’s job.

  The glint in his black as night eyes has me scowling. If I say no, he'll buy that house, and then he'll find someone else to take the job. Fuck.

  What the hell do I care? Yeah, so I’ve been lusting after Sophia. That doesn’t mean anything. There are how many women here? I don’t have to have Sophia be my wife.

  My wife can be someone else.

  She’ll have to be someone else.

  Maybe it’s greed. Maybe it’s something else. I don’t know, but I shake the fucker’s hand.

  “You got yourself a deal.”

  6

  Sophia

  The phone call with Saad Ahmad? It goes over smoothly. He’s so very appreciative, and he asks for details about how Ali Khan died, but when I start to tell them, he interrupts to say he doesn’t need to know.

  “What I do need to know is how to pay you,” he says, his voice deep.

  “All I need is for you to have a meeting with Madelaine Downing.”

  “Ah. I see.” He pauses, and I bet wheels are turning in his head. “You are certain you wish for this? It will mean no money.”

  That’s what you think, bub.

  “Yes, that is what I wish for. Oh, and for you to have an open mind.”

  Saad laughs, the sound even deeper than his voice. “Right now, I have a very open mind and heart. The villain who kidnapped my son is killed. What more do I need? Very well. Have Madelaine Downing call me at this number tomorrow at nine in the morning my time.”

  He hangs up, and I do the same, eyeing the general.

  “It’s done,” I tell her.

  “I heard. I could be in the next room over, and I still would’ve overheard. Are your ears ringing?”

  I laugh and shake my head. Saad Ahmad didn't just talk deep. Turns out, he has a loud voice too.

  “My ears are just fine. My wallet…”

  “Considerably fatter.” General Janius Jackson eyes me. “Do you prefer bills or to have the money wired to an account?”

  “Bills.”

  She lifts her eyebrows but presses a button on her phone. A man dressed in uniform comes in and hands me a briefcase.

  After the man leaves, the general asks, “You don’t trust banks?”

  “You never know what tomorrow will hold. We have a world currency, yes, which is a good thing, I think, but why do we have it? Because of the Grots. Because of alien invaders. The world changed forever that day, and it happened out of nowhere, without warning. There weren’t banks for how long after the Grots came? What if banks stop being a thing again?”

  “If that’s the case,” she says dryly, “it’s highly likely that the money will be useless.”

  “Yes, well, if you would prefer me to demand land, a house, cattle, horses, pigs, a farm…”

  “The money is yours.”

  The corners of the general’s lips are twitching. She’s trying to remain her stern, impassive self, but she’s failing a bit.

  “Thank you very much.” I start toward the door as she actually had me come to one of their more permanent bases instead of a tent this time. Before I leave, I hesitate and then turn back around. “Do you think you’ll be using my services again?”

  “You do excellent work. If there’s another bounty, I think I know your number.”

  I grin, nod, pat the doorframe, and leave.

  Collecting friends in high places is always a good idea, but I don’t just collect friends. If you do something for me, I will bend over backward for you.

  But if you cross me, there will be hell to pay. I’m black and white like that.

  With a whistle on my lips, I drive myself to my place and add the briefcase to the cache I already have underneath the floorboards of my bed. As one of the bounty hunters under the employ of the Global Countries of Earth, I’m trying to save up to have places for myself in as many countries around the world as I can. That way, wherever I need to go, I’ll have a home. I don’t like staying at hotels. I prefer to be in a place that I know the entire layout. Too many shady people can come and go at hotels, and weapons are frowned upon. I usually only have weapons for protective purposes. I don’t tend to use them unless necessary, but in order to use them, I have to have them in the first place.

  I do take out some bills, though. The last time I went out to a restaurant, I wanted to have a decent meal, but more importantly, I wanted to drink. I don’t drink often, but after everything with Hook and Bull, I needed something and something hard. Ever since, I’ve been making my own meals, cooking at home. I try a new recipe every week. Yes, I’m only cooking for one, but I like to enjoy my food. While I joked with the general about livestock and land, I actually wouldn’t mind being able to grow my own food, although growing crops might be easier than dealing with the animals.

  But a farm like that would require a lot of upkeep, and I just don’t have the time for that. I usually don’t take more time off between jobs than a week. Two at the absolute most. Some might call me a workaholic, and they wouldn’t be wrong. I just like to do my part, to keep the world safe. The bounties are out for terrible people for one reason or another, and yes, it’s dangerous, but as Bull and Hook can no longer tell you, I’m dangerous too.

  I really need to stop thinking about Bull and feeling so guilty. I need to move on. It's not as if I haven't killed before because I have.

  But there had always been a bounty out on the person before.

  If I let them go, there’s no doubt in my mind that everything woul
d’ve played out as I mentioned—that they would’ve tried to take over Garcia Sagen’s operations. If they did turn into mobsters, there would have been a bounty placed on them then. Mobsters? There’s no place for them in this world. We long for peace, and I help to fight for it.

  You know what? I think I'm gonna get myself another drink tonight. I deserve it. The last time I had a payday this big… Never. I never landed this much dough on a single job before. It's amazing. Kind of scary, too, in a way. It makes me feel like I've leveled up in some fashion. It makes me feel like my work is worthwhile, that I'm making a huge difference.

  I might not be one of the officers of Madelaine Downing, but I'm still working for her, even if I haven't met her directly.

  Yet? Who knows?

  I drive into town and park on the street, opting to walk around a bit to find a place. There’s one with Mexican food, and I enjoy a few margaritas while I’m at it. I’m feeling good by the time I walk out of there. I’m buzzed, not drunk, and I figure I’ll walk home.

  It doesn’t take long for me to be past the businesses and the other houses. My place is on the outskirts of town, the outer edge, where there’s more nature around than other signs of human life. I prefer to have some isolation, some solitude. And, just in case shit ever hits the fan, I won’t have to worry about any neighbors getting caught in the crossfire.

  “Sophia.”

  The voice is low and familiar, and I stop walking and glance over my shoulder to see the blue-skinned, almost green-haired alien heading my way.

  “Tox,” I say.

  His grin is wicked, as charming as it was during our meal. I have to say that I enjoyed it. He was pleasant enough company. I have friends, of course, but I’m an introvert. I need to be alone to recharge, but when I’m around people I’m comfortable with, I can talk their ears off. Maybe we’ll get to that point eventually, if we keep crossing paths like this.

  “Where you off to?” he asks.

  “What’s it matter?” I counter.

  His grin is even bigger, more wicked, still charming. “Nothing matters to me at all, darling,” he drawls, his words taking on a slight twang that I never would’ve expected to come from a Kurian.

  I point to his hair. “I’ve been meaning to ask.”

  “What about it?” He runs a hand through his greenish strands. “You want to feel it?”

  “No,” I say, even though I do wonder if his hair is as soft as it looks. “I thought Kurians and Novans all had blue hair.”

  “For the most part, we do—”

  “Your mom’s a blond, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. My hair is a bit more green than most. Makes me… unique.”

  “Ah, is that the only thing about you that’s unique?” I ask.

  Am I flirting? Maybe. I’ve had plenty of guys hit on me before, even unwitting targets, but I’m not usually the flirting type. I’ve had a few relationships, but nothing too serious. No one gets me, really gets me, and I would have to be over the moons for someone in order for me to want them to move in with me.

  “I haven’t been here on Earth long enough to know what makes me unique compared to Earthlings, but I have to say that I’m certainly unique among the Kurians.”

  “Just because of your hair?”

  “Because I’m willing to do whatever I want.” He leans toward me, and I catch a whiff of his scent—woodsy and cinnamon and something else that I can’t quite place.

  “And the others aren’t?”

  “They are, but I might be willing to go to more extremes.”

  I lift my eyebrows. “What extremes?”

  His grin returns, but it’s more playful this time, and his eyes—a bright blue with a hint of neon—light up. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get the house I want.”

  “You want a house? On Earth?”

  “I do.” He nods.

  “And let me guess, these extreme measures, it’s how you’re going to pay for your house.”

  “Damn straight.” He winks at me.

  “And just what extreme measures do you take?” I cross my arms, unconsciously making my breasts lift a bit despite my sports bra.

  His gaze drifts downward but only for a second. I’ll give him that.

  “I’m a mercenary,” he says.

  “Oh, ho! Are you now?” I beam.

  “What’s with the smile?” he asks suspiciously.

  “Oh, nothing.” I brush my black hair back over my shoulder and start walking again.

  He easily keeps pace me with. “No, that smile isn’t a just because smile. That’s a smile that means I have a secret.”

  “That so?” I peer at him out of the corner of my eye.

  “That so.” He nods.

  I stop walking and face him. “I’m a bounty hunter.”

  His eyebrows lift, and he takes in my appearance, giving me a slow once-over. It’s not him checking me out sexually. It’s him assessing me as a fighter, and my hand clenches and unclenches.

  “You know how to handle yourself?” he asks.

  His tone’s changed. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, and I don’t know if he thinks I’m pulling his leg or not.

  “I think I might,” I murmur. “Might be a good bounty hunter. I don’t know. Maybe you should hope no one ever takes a bounty on you.”

  “You think you could take me down?” he asks.

  I just give him that same beam as before.

  He snorts.

  What an ass.

  But I just keep on smiling. I tap his chin and then turn around, so my back is to him. I'm not usually one for pulling crap like this, but I rub my ass against him, and then I'm moving lightning quick, grabbing his right arm, bringing it across me like a seatbelt. I shove a foot between his as my other arm goes around his waist. I bend over, flipping him over my head, and he lands flat on his back hard.

  The heavier they are, the harder they fall.

  But he reacts immediately, starting to get up, but I’m not done with him yet. I go into side mount, my knee near his hip and ear, my chest to his chest, pressing down as much as I can with my body weight, an arm under his neck, the other trapping his arm, my hands clasped together in a gable grip.

  He tilts to one side, and I bring my arm trapping his arm over to lean against his throat, but he’s a bit too strong for me. Even when I shift my weight to be entirely on his chest, he’s able to sit up.

  Not willing to admit defeat, I slide around to take his back, hooking my heels in hard to his upper thighs. My one arm comes across his chest to act as a seat belt, and then I bring it up around his neck. My other arm goes behind his head to try to finish the choke, but he leans forward, rolling out, and before I can react, I’m the one flat on my back, staring up at him.

  We're both breathing heavily now, and I struggle to try to get my legs to wrap around his waist, to continue the grappling bout.

  “You want to keep going?” he murmurs huskily.

  I struggle beneath him a bit more. “If we sparred—”

  “You want to spar me?” He brings his face down. He’s inches from me. All I have to do is lift my head a tiny bit, and we would be kissing.

  “You ready? I’m game. I’ll win.”

  “You lost grappling.”

  “Barely.”

  “I wouldn’t say barely,” he protests as he stands.

  I accept his offered hand and stand beside him. “I hope your ego isn’t too bruised. You’re what? Six six?”

  “Six seven,” he corrects.

  “Oh, yes, that inch is so important.” I burst out laughing. “Dude, you have almost twenty inches on me.”

  His grin is wicked, and I swear I’m a mind reader because I just know he’s thinking about certain inches and wanting them in me.

  “I have to admit that you do know your moves. You’re strong.”

  “Despite being a woman?”

  “I was going to say that you know how to use your side. I’m stronger, but you’re faster, and your movements are
fluid. You’re constantly thinking ahead, and you’re a decent fighter. I would love to spar with you one day, but, ah, no knees.”

  “No knees? Come on. That’s not sparring then!”

  “No knees,” he insists.

  “To your stomach.”

  “With you so short, you’ll miss my stomach and hit me elsewhere.”

  I bring my knee up. I’m short, but I can bring my knee up high, almost to my chin.

  “You’re flexible,” he murmurs.

  “Like a pretzel. Get yourself a cup if you’re so worried about your jewels.”

  “A… groin cup.”

  “Bingo.” I wave. “See you around, Tox.”

  I stroll away, listening to see if he follows. He doesn’t, and I’m not sure if I prefer that he listens to me or that I want him to follow me home. No. I don’t bring guys to my place. This is for the best.

  Still, I do enjoy him, and it’s been too long since I grappled with anyone. I’m a bit rusty. I can use a grappling and sparring partner.

  And maybe I can use a blue-skinned friend too.

  7

  Tox

  It’s fun watching Sophia walk away. Her ass, her hips… Fuck. Grappling with her had been such a turn-on, and my cock is aching. It takes everything in me to not run up to her, to rip off her clothes, and to take her right here, outside. There’s no one around to watch us, but I wouldn’t even care at this point.

  But I focus on watching her, searing the memory of her waltzing away into my brain so I can replay it back.

  But the ache in my cock becomes more and more painful, and the second she’s out of view, I head into the woods away from the path she was walking on, and I hide behind a tree as I take care of my erection. After I clean up, I lean my head against the tree.

  What the fuck am I going to do?

  I want the money, yes, but I want her too.