Page 18 of The Commander

“My dad.”

“Really? The dad you disappointed? How did he know?”

“He knew.” Her volume dropped as if the memory pained her.

“Don’t get short with me now, Kitten.” He drew more cloth away, exposing her center completely, her thighs, her lower belly. Would blood from such sensual places on her body taste different than blood from her neck?

“Please. Oh, God. Please.”

“God? Are you religious then? Am I trespassing on sacred territory?”

Humans had their countless gods, but none came close to the Sarrian goddess who shaped the prime battlers—toserve, to protect, to worship. A mate bond would demand the same devotion, that same all-consuming dedication. It was why Bastain swore never to hunt a mate.

He might break that vow for a red-headed human who smelled surprisingly tasty.

“Sacred? What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop it. Just kill me.” She bristled up, her emotions a storm inside her. Humans could only maintain so much terror for so long. Even though she hadn’t lain on the table for more than an hour, the high stress of her day was getting to her, dragging at her.

Good. He could use that stress against her. Get more answers. Entertain himself more. The interview didn’t feel close to finished yet.

“All the humans in my towns have one or two functions,” he mused as he took his time slicing at little pieces of her clothing. Keeping one hand on her, he allowed a fingertip on bare skin, circling. With each touch, he discovered more parts of her, unwrapping her by slowly pulling at what rags of clothing he could get without rubbing her raw.

Had no other male mapped the geography of her skin? If so, he could be the first to claim the territory of her body. Every first shiver and sigh cataloged into his memory next to his favorite killing strategies. He would own her most sensual secrets, taste them with the sensitive tip of his proboscis, melt them in the heat of his mouth, more addictive than any prey he’d stalked.

Wiser logic tried to intervene in the growing fog of want, but that wisdom dissolved against the feel of her pulse. His well planned future dimmed next to this female, this scent that sang through his blood like an ancient from all the primes before him.

“Don’t.” She kicked her legs, trying to dislodge his hands.

“What is your function? Some humans in the towns dig in the dirt or keep plants and cows alive. There are several stepsnecessary to prepare the tax for transport, which requires many skills.”

“My function? My job? I did what I was told. None of it is hard. It’s all sheep work. I’m no one. Can you stop this?”

“Stop? Why should I stop? I doubt anysheepknow how to make a trap to catch meat; they are too busy for that. That is an unusual skill. Your father knew and taught you. That is also unusual. Where is your dad figure now?”

“Dad figure? Father? He’s dead.”

“Mother?”

“I only knew Dad.”

“Was he a rebel?”

“No. No, he wasn’t. I’m not. You don’t understand what the wankers do to their own people,” she said.

He did know but didn’t tell her that. He’d still seen humans give them aid and shelter. “I understand that they are an annoyance. What about other family?”

“Please. I don’t have anyone. Just let me go.”

“But you were hunting for others, for that Brenda?” he pressed.

“She is a friend. And they were helpless. I told you. Didn’t I tell you?”

“No one? Grandparents, siblings?” That was curious. Was she hiding them to protect them? Family groups were important to humans. Control encouraged them. Other family members like herself meant others with her DNA.

“There was an alien invasion, you know. People died,” she shot back, an adorable wrinkle appearing between her eyes.

“Yes.” His hidden proboscis quivered at her scent, already cataloging subtle markers in her chemistry. “I heard that. Poor little lost girl. No family to love you. How old are you?”

“I don’t know.”

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