Alien Knight Blind Date Disaster
for my… project. Do you know who I am?”“Yes.”
Interesting. “Who am I?”
Bhaosz’s gaze fixed on hers, and he looked drunk. Open. Trusting. Like a small child. “You used the name Ella Jones, but you are Isabella Serrano, an investigative reporter. I was sent to bring you in for questioning.”
“Me? Why? I am no one. Who wanted you to bring me in?” This was getting interesting. And terrifying. She’d done everything in her power to protect her true identity, yet Falden, and now this Bhaosz, had both known exactly who she was.
“You were working with Sevron Bashall, commander of the base. You were asking too many questions about the Blood Market. I was to bring you in. They would have questioned you, and you would have been sold.”
“On the blood market?”
“Yes.” His half-drunk smile turned cruel once more. “I had planned to purchase you myself.”
The very idea of being at his mercy made her shudder. “And what would you have done with me? Was I to be your slave?” She kept her voice even. Seductive. She had him in a trance of some kind, and she didn’t want to break him out of it accidentally.
His soft laughter was disturbing in an elemental way, and she had to fight not to gag.
“No, Isabella. Your skin is so soft. You are so round. So curved. You smell fresh.” His fingers lifted from the table in an attempt to entwine with hers—a move she deftly avoided. “I would have drunk your blood for weeks, keeping you alive and well fed. When I tired of the taste, I would have begun carving pieces from your body. Arms first. Just an appetizer. Then legs. When you could no longer give me the blood I desired, I would have finished you in a grand feast.”
“You wanted to eat me?” Her eyes bulged, disgust oozing out of every pore in her body. She felt sick.
“I still do.” He sucked in a deep breath through his nose like a wolf tracking prey. “But I want your blood first, Isabella.”
She’d heard the term Blood Market whispered on the street. Scared whispers only. She’d hoped the rumors were overblown drama, that the market was some kind of slave trade, human trafficking for prostitution or work camps, sweatshops. Something so very…human. Even overheated, feverish, she shivered as the hairs rose on the back of her neck, her skin prickling with goose bumps. But she wasn’t dealing with humans, not anymore.
“Who wanted to speak to me first? Before you could buy me and drink my blood?” With a forced smile she managed to ask the question calmly, to be logical and not focus on the fact that she was sitting across from an alien who wanted to literally eat her like she was a hot dog or a piece of candy.
“The boss. I do not know his name.”
She lowered her voice and leaned forward, actually caressed his rough skin where her fingertips made contact with the back of his hand. “Are you lying to me, Bhaosz? Who wanted to talk to me? Surely you know. Someone as important as you are.”
“I do not, but he will have his way. You are not safe from him here. These Caldorians will not protect you.”
Knowledge swam behind his eyes, information she wanted. “Why do you say that?”
“We made sure you would come to us.”
Ice crashed the heat out of her system. “How?” There were few people in the world she cared about. She had no pets. Until recently, no lover. What had they done?
“Matthew. They are holding him until you arrive.”
“Who’s holding him? Where is he?” she demanded, anger and fear choking her throat, the words coming out stilted.
“The Boss. I can show you, but I can’t tell you.”
“Why can’t you tell me?” she asked, scowling in frustration.
“I cannot tell you what I do not know. I am just a servant of the Dark One. I have a beacon in my visual field. That is all. There are no words, just a beacon.”
What the hell was this guy talking about? “Show me the beacon,” she commanded. “Show me now.”
He snarled, his eyes going darker, then the round black centers elongating into narrow slits like a reptile’s. She withdrew her hand in horror as his face melted and reformed while she watched. Gone were the human features. The lower half of his face had been replaced with a jawless, funnel-like mouth. Rows upon rows of sharp, jagged teeth visible as far in as she could see, much like the primitive lamprey. Gone were the nose and ears. Only his yellow reptilian eyes remained. Then his left eye began to change. She tried not to gag as the yellow eye became translucent.
Isabella leaned forward, staring at what looked like a digital display buried at the back of his eye. Gross. She could see inside his eye. Inside. His eye. A tiny red dot flashed. Shuddering with repulsion, she pushed onward, her gaze flashing back to his tooth-filled mouth, “That’s some kind of translator you must have. What are you?”
“Your future, Isabella. We are the future of your planet.”
“Over my dead body.” The words burst from her before she could think better of them, but he was already laughing, the sound inhuman as hundreds of sharp teeth vibrated against one another.
“That is the plan, human. I am but one of many.”
Idea forming in her mind, she rose to stand before him. “Put your human face back on.”
She watched, equal parts horror and fascination as he did as ordered, once more the snarling asshole she’d assumed was Caldorian sitting with his wrists in manacles atop the small table. The table was solid metal of some sort, welded to the floor. He was going nowhere without help.
“I am going to release you, and you are going to take me to Matthew.”
He dipped his chin as if he were a noble hero, not a flesh-eating predator. “Those were my orders.”
Asshole.
She turned to the two guards who remained kneeling behind her. “Release him.