Page 3 of The Edge of Dawn

She would try.

Clearly, she was one of those rare humans who possessed the Talent—somewhat like Ashrael’s mate. The fact that she could draw him to her while he was in the void was proof enough of her power.

Pray to the Goddess that he would never have to come for her… like that.

He hadn’t had to eliminate many humans, but the ones he’d encountered so far were disappointingly weak.

Far too easy to kill.

Maybe that was why he found this scenario so amusing.

A weak and fragile human female who was bold and unafraid to speak her mind… to him, of all people.

“At least now I know that you can speak,” she said softly, pinning him with a look of pure fascination. “You were awfully quiet the last couple of times. I thought you were just being rude, but you do speak Universal, huh? I just guessed, seeing as you’re an alien and all. You’re not like the guys I’ve seen on the Networks, but there’s a similarity. Are you a kind of… ” Her brow furrowed. “Kordolian?”

“I am.” He inclined his head, his amusement turning bitter. It was the first time he’d been able to speak in her presence. She had no idea that he’d only just been released from his curse of silence. “We don’t all look the same, you know.”

“Now I know. Makes sense.” Her gaze traveled slowly down his body, lingering on his bare torso, on his loosely clad hips. “Hmm. My subconscious is definitely trying to tell me something.”

He stared back, a disbelieving half-smile curving his lips. Nobody had ever dared give him such a look.

Nobody.

Let alone a human.

Unable to help himself, he leaned forward, playing into her little fantasy. “And what would that be?”

Her long, slender fingers slipped between the v-shaped folds of her garment; a soft, flowy thing loosely belted at her waist. Her hand came to rest on her chest, in between the tantalizing swells of her breasts. “Well, alien-man, if you really want to know, I believe you exist because my mind and soul are rebuking me.”

Alien-man? This female was ridiculously impudent. “I have a name, you know.”

“Oh, you do? Go on, then…” She gestured with her hands as if she were responsible for conjuring his infernal name out of thin air.

“Dragek,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Dragek.” She shaped his name with her human accent; with her plump, delicately shaped mouth. “Of course.”

“And I am not, as you so strangely put it, a rebuke.”

“Oh, but you are.” Her voice deepened, becoming slightly hoarse. “You’re what my mind throws at me as punishment for being celibate for so long.” A soft sigh escaped her lips. “Two years. Not entirely by choice, mind you.”

What in the Nine Hells was she going on about now?

Abruptly, she sat up, folding her arms across her chest. “Never mind. I’ll probably wake up any moment now. It always happens.”

Dragek regarded the human with a mixture of amusement, curiosity, and irritation. What foolishness. Who did she think she was talking to?

He’d never encountered anyone like her before.

He’d never been in a situation that was so infernally… un-serious.

Why in the infernal Nine Hells had he been drawn to her in the first place?

She was spectacularly ignorant; she had no idea how to wield the ka’qui or even sense the innate energy of another.

How pathetic.

With his second-sight, he engulfed her for just a moment, sending a ripple of ka’qui across her body, taking in every last detail.

---