Stolen: A SciFi Alien Warlord Romance

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Stolen: A SciFi Alien Warlord Romance Page 23

by Alison Aimes


  Curled tight up against him, Aurora shook harder. “Murdered. It’s so hard to accept. Especially as we just saw both of them. Latasha less than an hour ago and Miss Stanthorpe with…Peller.” She gasped, the top of her head almost clocking his chin as her spine snapped straight. “Do you think he’s behind this?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She clutched his wrists. “We have to tell the constable what we saw. We have to tell him about the connection between Stanthorpe and Peller.” She broke from his hold and started forward. “We saw them together. I should have said something then. I guess a part of me never imagined—”

  He grabbed her and pulled her back against him. “This is not your fault. Nor can we jump to conclusions. Grayson has, no doubt, already relayed the story about Stanthorpe and Latasha to the constable, minus your presence.” His friend’s nod confirmed his words—and his efficiency. The male knew how to take care of things. “They know my side. Now, we just have to see if they believe it.”

  Aurora wrapped her arms tighter around him. “I cannot believe this.”

  Even as he held her, DaKar was well aware of Grayson absorbing every bit of their exchange and the fierceness of the embrace. His friend was jaded by nature, but there was still something in the scrutinizing, cold way he looked at Aurora that had DaKar’s hackles rising. Maybe the male was just shocked he’d finally found the female he was going to settle down with, and that she was an élithe, no less. That news would surprise anyone who knew him.

  He took a deep breath and focused on the here and now. “There’s more.” He stared down his friend. “I can see it in your eyes. Tell me.”

  “More?” Aurora froze in his hold.

  Grayson concurred. “Stanthorpe was found clutching a danashe stone in her palm. The constable has identified it as part of a bracelet that went missing from Lady Monroe’s bedroom a couple lunar rotations ago.”

  “No.”

  “Aurora.” He caught her as she slid down his body. His lungs punched against his chest. Her face was too pale, her pupils dilated with shock. “Let me take you to the other room. I will explain it all later.”

  “No.” She shook her head, clutching him as if he would disappear. “L-let me think. The murderer planted the jewel. H-he knows everyone assumes you are the thief. He’s trying to frame you for this as well.”

  “The framing part is certain,” agreed Grayson.

  Her lips pressed flat, all those worries she refused to share darkening her gorgeous eyes and clawing at his chest, pissing him off all over again. “Does the constable believe it was DaKar who killed the two women?”

  Grayson shrugged. “It’s hard to know. He seems reasonable enough not to jump to conclusions, but he gives little away.”

  “I have to tell him I was there, too, and what I saw. It is the only way to convince him Peller is the murderer.” She looked up at him, her gaze wild. “You heard Latasha mention that one of Betta’s clients wore a danashe stickpin, just like Peller. And we saw him give Miss Stanthorpe something last night, probably the bracelet. Maybe he tried to get it back from her and she wouldn’t let him and he killed her. Maybe he wanted to ensure she never told what she knew about his parentage. He’ll listen to me or—”

  “Whoa. You are to stay out of this. Remember, we don’t even know what Peller gave Stanthorpe. It could have been the bracelet. But it might have been something else altogether. Truthfully, I am not sure how Peller fits into this mess.”

  “Or how he obtained the jewel,” she added.

  “Well, if he is the thief, then he had it to begin with. At this point, there are a lot more questions than answers. But one thing is certain, there is a definite connection between the thief and the murderer. Just as I’ve thought all along.”

  She clutched him tighter. “What a mess. I am so sorry, DaKar. Sorrier than I can ever say.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Her fear and terror beat at him and his earlier impulse to keep her at his place forever seemed better and better with every moment.

  “There’s more.” Grayson removed a letter from his jacket pocket. “This was delivered moments ago. Rhagghest agreed to let me bring it to you. It’s from the investigation firm.”

  Detaching himself from a wobbly Aurora, DaKar took the note.

  He broke open the seal and read. Satisfaction thrummed through him.

  Finally, good news.

  His luck was changing. His unseen enemy was a vicious, crafty bastard, but he was closing in on the monster. The man might have thought he was clever when he’d planted the danashe stone on Miss Stanthorpe, but it had been a mistake.

  “It’s good news.” He smiled at the two worried faces watching him closely. “A recent suggestion I had has borne fruit. A couple of the stolen pieces turned up in the belt. The investigators traced them back to Earth and believe they’ve identified the pawnbroker who had them originally. He operates out of the Forbidden Zone.”

  “Yes!” Grayson’s cool façade slipped as he pumped his fist in the air. “This is exactly the connection for which we’ve been looking. Well done.”

  Aurora’s eyes fluttered closed. “A pawnbroker? In the Forbidden Zone?”

  It was a lot to take in at once. “Yes.” DaKar turned her to face him, wrapping his hands around her delicate shoulders as relief pulsed through him. “Do you know what that means?”

  She opened her eyes, surprising him with the intensity of her gaze. “It means that within hours you are going to know the name of the thief—and hopefully, soon after that, the murderer.” She gave him a wobbly smile, the golden soul ties between them burning brighter and fiercer than ever before. “You saved yourself without my help.”

  “You were more of a help than I could ever express.” He cupped her cheek, pleased that soon this whole mess would be over—and even more pleased with his female’s continued protective streak. Whatever the reasons for her hesitation, it was obvious she cared. Her feelings as tied to him as his were to hers.

  Hope surged. Now that things were almost settled, the worries that had been holding her back would be resolved as well. He was sure of it.

  She loved him.

  She turned her head and pressed a kiss into his palm before stepping back. “Is the investigator coming now?”

  He read the note once more. “He and his men are searching out the pawnbroker’s address so we can conduct surveillance. The best scenario would be to catch the murderer trying to pawn another set of stolen jewels, but at the very least we need to trap the pawnbroker in the act of accepting or fencing stolen goods. Then we will have the leverage to gain the confession we need.”

  “A good plan.” This time her smile held more certainty. “You will have your answers very soon.”

  “They cannot come fast enough to suit me.”

  “I understand.” She took his hand. Pressed another kiss to his palm. “I know you and Executive Grayson must have a great deal to do. I will take the floater back home myself.”

  “No. I will accompany you.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Absolutely not. I will be perfectly safe with Tom. You need to stay here. To prepare for what is to come. I…I should do the same. It’s almost morning anyway.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Please, DaKar. Please let me do this.”

  Janus hells, he had a hard time saying no to this woman. Plus, there was a hell of a lot to do. All of which would bring him closer to a time when he could ensure she never left him again.

  He exchanged a brief glance with Grayson who appeared equally in favor of Aurora’s plan.

  “Alright,” he said. “But I am sending three of my best men along with Tom and you are to let them shadow you all the way to your door. I am not taking any chances.”

  Five minutes later, he made good on his word. Three fierce-looking footmen stood guard over the floater, waiting for their charge to exit the back door while Grayson was already inside organizing the bodies and supplies needed for the stakeout.

  Trouble
was, he couldn’t stop holding her.

  She buried her face in his chest and squeezed. “I am so glad you’re safe now. So glad. And I hope…I hope you’ll always remember that.”

  With a jerk, she pulled away. The bond between them glowing so bright and beautiful with her love he was nearly blinded by it.

  He grabbed her arm. “You and I still need to talk, little one. When this mess is over and settled—”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” She gave him another shaky smile. “When this mess is over, all will be settled between us, as well.”

  So, it was as he’d thought. She’d been fearful of linking herself to him when everything was so up in the air and the charges of theft and murder hung over him. Except…that hardly sounded like his woman. She was far too fierce to let something like that bother her.

  Throwing herself into his arms, she dragged his head toward her and pressed her lips to his. “Goodbye, DaKar.”

  She was out the door before he could respond. Before he could insist she tell him what was still wrong. Before he could inform her that everything she did mattered to him.

  35

  Aurora dashed up the back stairs of Whetherton’s home two at once, the lightening sky under the dome an indication dawn was not far off. There was so little time. Her heart hammered in her chest. She had to get to her bedroom, grab her stockpile of jewels, ticket, and packed clothes, and get out. Now.

  Before Denard confessed. Before DaKar and the constable came after her. Before her stepfather returned home and it was too late.

  She took a shaky breath and peered around. The hall was empty. Neither the servants nor her aunt were yet awake. Her legs shook as she rushed forward. This was madness, but no less insane than remaining. Not now that DaKar was safe.

  All that was left was to try and save herself. Fleeing like a thief just as she’d always planned, though she’d never expected to be leaving the best parts of herself behind with a male who would soon hate her as much as she loved him.

  She hurled her bedroom door open and ran to her hiding place. Underneath the corner of the throw rug near her bed was a loose board. Beneath that lay the perfect-sized hidey-hole with all her hopes for survival.

  She wrenched back the loose board and froze.

  Empty. How could this be? She thrust her hand inside and along the corners.

  Nothing.

  The jewels. Her money. Her ticket. Gone.

  Heart smashing against her ribs, she skittered back until her spine hit the wall, putting as much distance between her and the hole as possible.

  Someone had stolen them. The coherent thought came to her. A thief had stolen from a thief.

  A hysterical laugh burst from her lips before turning into a sob. All my plans ended. How was she supposed to get away now?

  “I see things have disintegrated since I’ve been gone.”

  The icy, disdainful voice shoved into her chest and squeezed her heart.

  She bounded to her feet.

  Her stepfather loomed in the doorway. “What? No warm welcome home?” He stalked inside, closing her door behind him. The click of the lock overloud in the tense silence. “I suppose it’s just as well since I am not feeling too fatherly towards you right now.”

  “Whetherton.” She scanned the room for a weapon. “I…I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

  “Obviously not.” He stripped off his jacket and hung it on the chair by her sitting desk. “You and I are finally going to have that reckoning, my jewel.”

  “No.” Her repudiation of what was about to happen little more than a whisper.

  “Yes. You need to be taught a valuable lesson.” He rolled up his left shirtsleeve and then his right. “Do you know what that is, daughter?”

  She slid along the wall toward her dresser and the lamp. Those words…those words were all too familiar. Latasha had said Betta, the murdered prostitute, had a client who liked to use exactly that phrasing.

  An icy shiver ripped down her spine.

  “No answer?” He stalked closer, matching her step for step. “Well, you’ll know soon enough. Why don’t we start with you telling me where you were this morning? I came home early to surprise you and Cecilia. Imagine my displeasure when I found you weren’t in your room or, it turns out, in the house at all.”

  “W-what did you do to Cecilia?” Her fingers twitched. She was almost close enough to reach out and grab the lamp. “If you’ve hurt her—”

  “Still trying to save everybody.” He shook his head, his lip curling with contempt. “Wouldn’t it be better to concentrate on yourself? I know I’d like your full attention.”

  He struck like a snake, seizing her arm in a brutal grip, spinning her away from the dresser and up against him. His hot, angry breath scoured her face while the sickening proof of his lust jutted against her hip.

  “Do you want me to tell you the lesson you are about to learn, Aurora? Do you?” His voice became a roar. “When you act like a whore, you get treated like one!”

  A blur out of the corner of her eye and then fire. Her cheek and lip exploded as if a thousand needles pierced her skin. The force of his hit sent her slamming backward into the wall.

  Trembling, her cheek throbbing, she raised a hand to where he’d hit her. “You are a monster.” She spat at him.

  A pink smear landed on his cheek. He wiped it away with an angry flick. “I will teach you to obey me. I will teach you that you are mine.”

  “I will never be yours.”

  “What? You think you belong to that heathen savage you’ve been fucking while I was away?”

  She froze.

  He smiled, a sinister curl of his lips that shriveled her soul. “There is nothing about you that I don’t know. Nothing.”

  He moved to the washbasin and yanked a towel from the nearby stand. “I saw when lust for that abomination overtook you and I knew then I was going to have to save you from yourself.”

  He plunged the towel into the water. Once. Twice. All the time his body remained between her and the locked door. “My one miscalculation was how far you would go in your little rebellion. I must admit I never imagined you would be willing to spread your legs for him once he was an accused thief and murderer.”

  “What…are you doing?”

  His eyes met hers through the mirror as he rung out the towel. “First, I am going to scrub his stench off you. Second, well, I believe I will let the rest be a surprise.”

  Her breathing came fast and shallow. “You will go to hells for this.”

  “Such righteousness. But I don’t think either the Almighty or your peers will have much sympathy for a liar and a thief, especially not the man whom you let take the blame for your crimes.”

  Pain shuddered through her. He really did know everything.

  He started toward her, the towel looped between his hands like a rope. “If I wasn’t so furious with you for desecrating yourself with him, I would almost applaud your treachery. It is no more than he deserves.”

  Her stepfather’s expression was smug as he paused on his way toward her, his shoe tapping the piece of rug that was still turned up to reveal her hidey-hole. “Did you think you could keep this from me as well?”

  “You.” Nothing could shock her now. “You stole them.”

  He smiled. “You stole them first. When you first began stealing, I couldn’t figure out why. But then I realized you were actually contemplating leaving me.” He shook his head, a mock look of disappointment on his face. “I am afraid that is not allowed.”

  A bitter taste flooded her mouth. All this time, she’d thought she was so close to escape. “W-why did you let me continue?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?” He adjusted the rug with his boot so it lay correctly. “Not to mention that each crime, each misdeed, each trip to Denard’s, tied you closer to me. One word from me and you’d be executed. It seemed the perfect way to keep you in line and prove who had the ultimate control.”

  His eyes narrowed as he cle
nched the towel tighter, wrapping it around his knuckles. “Until you ruined everything by rutting with that atrocity.”

  “You are mad.” She slid in the other direction, desperate to stay out of reach. “What will happen when your peers learn of what you’ve done? Such brutality cannot be covered up. I won’t let it.”

  His eyes gleamed. “You don’t have any say. I hold all the power here and the sooner you accept and submit, the easier it will be for you, my jewel.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “But that is what you are to me.” He flicked the towel in her direction with each word, like the forked tongue of a snake. “A possession. An ornament. A pretty bauble to take out and admire and then shut away any time I want. Any. Time. Because the law allows me to do whatever I want with you. And, thanks to a productive wheekend, I’ve decided to delay accepting Peller’s breeding contract offer as it looks as if I’ve nearly secured the votes I need to be High Chancellor without that smug bastard’s help, or that of his viperous shrew of a mother.” His smile grew. “So, you see, it’s time to celebrate. You and I have a long future together ahead of us. In fact, after we see this little lesson through today, we are taking a trip. Just the two of us and some loyal servants. We’ll be traveling to an old hunting lodge I bought some years ago.”

  Where he could rape her, punish her anytime he wanted, and no one would be around to help her. It was her worst nightmare come to life.

  His voice gentled. “It’s for the best, you know. Your behavior has gotten out of control. In a way, I am saving you from yourself.”

  Her eyes lit on the lamp once more.

  “You’ve been very naughty, Aurora…and now, now you must pay.” He launched himself at her, the towel outstretched like a lasso.

  She jerked to the side. He brushed against her as he stumbled past. Frantic, past terror, she dashed to the lamp. Her fingertips skimmed the base.

  Something wet and rough closed around the front of her throat. Her whole body jerked backward. A silent scream of anguish hissed from her lips. The lamp crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.

 

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