Dazzled by the Alien Daredevil: An Alien Abduction Romance (The Kurians Book 5)

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Dazzled by the Alien Daredevil: An Alien Abduction Romance (The Kurians Book 5) Page 12

by Ashlyn Hawkes


  “She’s nothing but a goddamn whore.”

  “You’re nothing but an ovian bastard,” Strol says, moving to stand beside me. He’s dripping wet, but he holds up a strange-looking blade.

  “Insult me all you like. Welcome to—”

  Strol throws his blade. He doesn’t hit Frankie. No, the blade whips on by above the match so quickly that the wind causes the match to blow out.

  Frankie mutters a curse as the blade burrows itself into the side of the ship. As he reaches inside his pocket for—a matchbox? A weapon? I don’t know. I just launch myself at him. My knee connects with his groin, and then I have my knee on his belly, my other leg posted out to support me.

  With a grim grin, Strol marches over. “You’re not going to hurt anyone else anymore.”

  “What about me?” Frankie whines. “What about people hurting me? Get your trampy bitch off me—”

  I shift my weight, so I'm standing on him, one foot on his belly, which holds most of my weight, the other on his throat, not crushing him… yet. "Shut your mouth and learn some respect. You're alive, and you're going to go to jail for a long time."

  “But…” he wheezes. “But I’m too pretty for jail!”

  I snort. As far as I know, the jails are hardly filled at all. No one is going to take advantage of him, and as for pretty, he’s not. He’s not ugly either, but his eyes, his attitude, the total package that makes up Frankie turns him into one ugly, hideous dude.

  By the time we get Frankie on deck, there are a couple of motorboats zooming around to pick up the captured men. Strol’s already handcuffed Frankie, and we force him into one of the motorboats.

  “He’s the last of them,” the officer on the motorboat says.

  “All of the others have been accounted for?” I ask as Strol and I jump on board too.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Wonderful.” I beam at Strol. “We did it.”

  “Together. Earthlings and Kurians—”

  “Don’t act like this is some giant step in the right direction,” Frankie spits out. “It’s an abomination is what you Kurians are. You’re born out of sin—”

  “What sin is that?” I ask mockingly.

  “We aren’t supposed to lie with another species!”

  “We aren’t supposed to lie with assholes either,” I snap. “Strol is more a man than you ever will be.”

  “You bitch. You think that just because you swallowed his cock—”

  Strol hauls off and hits Frankie so hard he’s knocked out.

  “Eh.” The officer shrugs. “I don’t think anyone will care that he was already handcuffed when you did that.”

  I shake my head. “There aren’t others who think like he does, are there?”

  “There haven’t been many incidents or reports to that effect, but…” The officer shrugs. “We don’t know what’s in a person’s heart until they choose to act on it.”

  “Well, I know your heart,” I murmur to Strol, leaning against him.

  “Do you now? I think you more than know it,” he whispers in my ear before kissing my neck.

  I shiver. Does he mean what I think he means? That I own his heart? Because he owns mine too, and it’s not nearly as terrifying as I thought it would be.

  19

  Strol

  Five hours have passed since Frankie was arrested. In that time, I spent an hour debriefing, slept three hours, and ate. Now, I’m debating whether or not I want to go back to sleep when Donnell Wallace, one of the representatives from the Global Countries of Earth, seeks me out. Since Frankie was arrested, Isabella and I have been stuck in this government building, and I’m feeling more than a little claustrophobia. Worst of all, I haven’t seen Isabella since before I fell asleep.

  “Donnell, where is Isabella?”

  “She’s sleeping right now,” he says. “I was hoping that you would be willing to have a word with Madelaine Downing.”

  “Who is that?” I ask suspiciously.

  “Madelaine Downing,” Donnell repeats as if the name should mean something to me. When I just stare at him blankly, he sighs and adds, “She’s the leader of the Global Countries of Earth.”

  “Ah, yes. She wants to talk to me? That’s fine.”

  “Come with me.”

  Donnell leaves the room, and I have no choice but to follow him. I’m lucky that the bruise Frankie’s brass knuckles gave me isn’t noticeable. My skin isn’t that much of a darker blue in that spot because my skin is such a dark shade to begin with. I don’t want to appear weak in any way, shape, or form in front of their leader.

  I’m not sure what I expect when I enter a large conference room, but the beautiful young woman, maybe in her late thirties with long curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and a blue power suit isn’t it.

  “Madelaine?” I ask.

  “Strol.” She smiles at me and holds out her hand for a shake. A nice, firm grip. A quick handshake, though. “It is nice to meet the son of the Novan leader. I was hoping we could have met when you first arrived as your father intended, but I know the Earth can be an alluring place to explore.”

  I nod slowly and do my best to hide my shock. Father entrusted me to meet Madelaine? I thought he sent me here to punish me.

  Ah, but in his mind, I would've thought this punishment. He knew I wouldn't want to become involved in the politics here, and when I first came here, he had the right of it. I would've been absolutely miserable if I had to deal with all of that backstabbing and other nonsense. I heard stories about how the old countries used to fight a lot, especially in the Far East. No, not the Far East. The Middle East. Something like that.

  But this, the prejudice, that I am willing to address, especially since I experienced it firsthand.

  I shake my head. Father knew me better than I knew myself. He sent me here as punishment, except it wasn’t punishment. He wanted me to sink or swim. He basically treated me like a baby bird, and he shoved me out of the nest.

  It’s time for me to fly.

  “Madelaine,” I say. “Is it all right if I call you that?”

  “You may, Strol.”

  “It is very nice to meet you. Yes, you’re right. Earth can be very alluring.”

  “Have you enjoyed your time here?” She gestures toward the chairs around a table that is rather like my father’s.

  I take a seat, and I’m glad when she sits down too, leaving an empty chair between us.

  “Yes, I have enjoyed my time.”

  “Despite everything involved with Frankie Hamilton, of course.”

  “Actually, hunting him down and finding justice for his victim, Nina, that was some of the best time I’ve had here.”

  “Your father did say that you like to be, ah, rather hands on.”

  “Yes.” I laugh and shake my head again. Father really knew what he was doing when he sent me here. I should’ve trusted him like Mom did. She knew all along why Father was doing this. He taught me everything he could. She did too. I just needed to be set free, to flap my wings, to try everything out on my own. Now, now there doesn’t seem to be anything I can’t do, and it’s all because of him.

  Father made me who I am, and I like the person I’ve turned out to be.

  “Ovian bastard,” I mutter, somehow turning the term into one of endearment.

  “I beg your pardon?” the leader asks.

  I smile. “He’s right. I do like to get my hands dirty if that’s necessary.”

  "Yes, well, I'm glad you were willing to sit down and talk to me. I've asked your father to join us as well. Is that all right with you?"

  “Y-Yes,” I say slowly.

  “In holographic form,” she assures me.

  I chuckle. “I don’t know if Father will ever come here.”

  “Perhaps one day.”

  She taps on the table, and I didn’t even realize there had been a tablet laying there. Father’s slightly bluish form pops up above the tablet.

  “Madelaine, it is good to see you,” my f
ather says, dipping his head to nod at her. “Strol,” he says, his tone a little more apprehensive now.

  "Father." I flinch. He's here in his official overlord capacity, but he doesn't seem bothered by my use of the familiar term. If anything, a slight curl twitches at the corners of his lips.

  "Overlord Nestrol, thank you for joining us." Madelaine smiles as she clasps her hands on the table in front of the tablet. "As you know, I have been asking for quite some time now if we could have a permanent official representative from Kuria here on Earth, a leader of sorts to keep relations solid between the planets."

  “I volunteer,” I blurt out.

  My father chuckles. I haven’t heard anyone make him laugh aside from Mom in a long time. “Do you now, my boy?”

  And I haven’t heard him call me that since I was nine years old.

  “I do. I think—Have you been kept abreast of the situation with Frankie?” I ask.

  “Yes. The moment you became involved, Earthlings sought to contact me,” my father says.

  "Yes, well, what happened cannot and will not stand, and I, for one, think that it is necessary for there to be a united front on that end. There should be no prejudice at all, and the best way for that to happen is for the Earthlings to see and get to know the Novans, the Kurians. The more common we are here on Earth, the more they can accept us. If we only stay on Kuria, it becomes too much of a they/them, us/our type deal." I clamp my lips shut to stop my rambling. Leaders don't ramble. Instead, they give motivational speeches and orders.

  "I am very impressed by Strol's actions," Madelaine says. "He pushed to be on the mission to capture those responsible for kidnapping Nina Tristin, and he managed to get a general and a representative to agree that he should not only be on the mission but that he should spearhead it. Even so, he listened to the general, who acted as an advisor and a supplier of both weapons and soldiers."

  “And a backup boat in case we needed it,” I add. “Which we didn’t, but having the backup available was smart.”

  “Your son is very capable,” Madelaine says, “at least from what I see. Do you see any reason to think that someone else would be better suited for this task?”

  I suck in a breath. Does Father truly think I am a strong, capable leader? He should. After all, I’m his son, and I am more like him than I ever thought I was.

  “Yes, Strol is capable, and I do think that this position will help the planet. I do hope he’ll continue to listen to generals and advisors and not be too, ah, reckless in some of his pursuits.”

  I grin and puff out my chest. I can’t help feeling more than a little smug. “It will be an honor to serve in this capacity.”

  "Wonderful. I look forward to working with you closely in the future." Madelaine eyes her watch. "I have to step aside for a phone call. If you will excuse me for five minutes. Ten at the most. My apologies."

  “No need to apologize,” my father states. “I asked for the meeting at this time, and you have other engagements.”

  Madelaine nods to us both and leaves the room.

  “We’re alone now?” Father asks.

  “We are.” I brace myself. Is he going to find a way to yell at me after all?

  “What changed?” he demands.

  “What changed?” I echo, confused.

  “In you,” he says gruffly.

  “It was a woman, wasn’t it?” Mom asks, suddenly appearing beside Father. She wraps an arm around him.

  I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t understand. Who says I changed at all? Maybe I would’ve always done this.”

  Mom just shakes her head. “Denial. What’s her name?”

  “Mom!”

  “Well? She puts her hands on her hips.

  I heave a sigh. “Isabella.”

  “She’s the one who helped you to save Nina,” Father says.

  “I knew it.” Mom pumps her fist. “I knew sending him would be for the best. Didn’t I tell you?”

  “Wait. It was your idea to send me here, Mom?” I ask, even more confused now.

  “Yes,” Mom says simply.

  “She thought that I was being a bit… What was the word you used?” Father asks.

  “Overbearing. I thought you needed to have time to be yourself, to make up your own mind about your life, to see what course you wanted to take.” Mom smiles smugly.

  I throw up my hands. “You basically sent me here as an experiment of some kind.”

  “It worked,” Mom says. “Now, tell me about this Isabella. What is she like? She went on that mission with you, so she must be headstrong. I always thought you needed a headstrong woman, someone who would challenge you and not put up with your BS.”

  “I don’t have any BS,” I protest.

  Father bursts out laughing. “You have enough BS to fertilize all of Earth.”

  “Geez, thanks, Father.”

  He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “I… I’m proud of you, son. Don’t fuck it up.”

  Now I’m the one to laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “If I didn’t think you could handle it, I wouldn’t have told Madelaine Downing that I thought you were the one for the position,” Father states firmly. “You know that. I don’t play favorites. You earned this.”

  “I… I’m sorry if I ever disappointed you,” I mumble.

  “You’re a headstrong man. You two were bound to clash at times,” Mom says.

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” Father grunts. “Even if there are times when you’re a terrible son.”

  “You aren’t always the best father,” I dare to say.

  Father doesn’t move. Mom looks up at him, and I hold my breath.

  “I know I am not perfect,” Father eventually says. “Now, hurry up and tell us about Isabella before Madelaine comes back, or your mom will never let me hear the end of it.”

  I grin. “Do you think you’ll ever come to Earth?”

  Mom squeals.

  Father just gapes at me.

  I shrug, grinning widely.

  “Why are you so excited?” Father grumbles to Mom.

  “Don’t you understand what he means?”

  “Yes. He wants to marry her,” Father gripes. “Why can’t he marry her here?”

  “If he’s to be the representative of Kuria on Earth, shouldn’t he stay on Earth?” Mom points out.

  “You sure she’s the one?” Father asks.

  “She is,” I assure him.

  “Have you asked her yet?”

  “No.”

  “Are you certain she’ll say yes?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Oh, she really is headstrong then.” Mom claps. “I think I like her already.”

  I just shake my head. Isabella and I have a lot to talk about, but after this conversation, I’m up for anything. I feel weightless, like I’m flying instead of falling, and nothing can get me down.

  20

  Isabella

  After the events with Nina and then capturing Frankie and the rest of his goons has me wiped out. I’m brought to some government building, or maybe it’s military, I don’t know. I’m out of it. A soldier brings me to a room, and all I see is the bed. I pass out, and when I wake, I’m starving. I go to the door and half-expect it to be locked. The knob turns, and there’s a guard leaning against the door across from mine.

  He straightens and nods to me. “Isabella, are you hungry?”

  “Yes,” I say suspiciously. “Were you waiting for me?”

  “Just following orders,” he says cheerfully. “I heard all about the mission. You did a wonderful job, and I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “It wasn’t just me.”

  “I realize that, Isabella, but you patched up Karen.”

  “Oh, she was just grazed.”

  "That's what we all thought, but then she started to bleed through her bandage. The bullet weakened her artery enough that it started to leak. Th
e surgeon said that if you hadn't patched her, she might not have made it, that she would have bled out. I know Karen. She would've brushed it off and not sought out medical care, and thank you. Thank you for saving my Karen."

  “Oh. Wow. Um, you’re welcome, but I didn’t really do anything all that important.”

  “It is to me and Karen.”

  “I’m glad she’s all right then. Um, she is all right?”

  “Out of surgery. They had to do a graft and—”

  He keeps on talking as he brings me to a cafeteria. “You can eat whatever you want,” he says. “The food’s great, actually.” He points to the back corner. “There’s someone there you might want to talk to.”

  Confused, I thank the soldier, who never told me his name. I head to the front, to where other soldiers are picking up orders for food.

  A portly man with a goofy grin and a hair net eyes me. “What can I get you, Isabella?” he asks.

  “How does everyone know my name?” I ask.

  “You’re the only female here who isn’t in uniform.”

  I glance down at the jeans and t-shirt I changed into. The clothes had been waiting in the room I had been brought to. I forgot I changed before falling asleep.

  “I guess I am.” I laugh.

  “What are you in the mood for?” He rattles off five or six options, and I pick the lasagna.

  I carry my tray over to the corner the soldier who acted as a tour guide pointed out. A part of me wondered if Nina would be there, but she wouldn’t be in uniform.

  No, sitting there is Strol.

  My alien daredevil.

  He grins at me and starts to stand as I approach.

  “Sit,” I tell him. “Did you eat already?”

  “Yes. Just waiting on Sleeping Beauty.”

  I put my tray down and touch my head as I sit. “Oh, I doubt I look like a beauty right now.”

  “You do.”

  I laugh and inhale my food, not overly concerned about my manners.

  “I was famished too,” he says with a laugh before turning serious. “We need to talk.”

 

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