Page 11 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

The glare my sister gives him before turning back to me is incredulous. “Why the hell would you go with this creep?”

My mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. She won’t believe anything I can tell her. Not yet. Not until she sees some of it herself.

“Wait a minute. Did you leave with him last year on purpose?”

She doesn’t wait for me to answer, but I shake my head, anyway.

“Why didn’t you ever call me? Why haven’t I heard from you? I thought you weredead.” Tears begin to stream down her face, and she swipes them away angrily. “Why the fuck would you do that to me, Lara?”

“I didn’t mean to.” I want more than anything to go to her, wrap her in my arms. I want to tell her how much I missed her, how determined I’ve been not to allow her to end up in the same situation I’m in.

I slow down, take half a step toward her, and my shoulders pull back almost imperceptibly, the slight twinge reminding me that Ivrael now controls how far I can move away from him.

Goddamn Caix magic.

She stares at me disbelievingly. “Ah, hell. You really believe those ribbons on your wrists are keeping you from leaving that dude, don’t you?”

If I could think of a way to get Izzy out of Ivrael’s grasp, I would rip off my own arms to do it. But no matter how I wrack my brains, I can’t come up with anything. Tears begin dripping down my cheeks, too, but I don’t bother to wipe them away.

The Trasqo Market vendors are still gawping at us, as Adefina would say, and I can’t help but smile a little at the thought of the cook’s eye-rolling response to all this sisterly love. The thought does little to lighten my mood, though, as I remember where we are—and where we’re headed.

About halfway back to the gate, Ivrael pauses, drawing another coin out of an inside pocket. I watch him suspiciously as he walks up to a sturdy booth. It takes a moment for me to realize it’s the one he pushed me against before he kissed me, which sets my face aflame again.

I examine the coin as carefully as possible from a distance, but I don’t sense anything off about it, not like the one he gave Roland.

Ivrael leans over the counter, flashing a smile that manages to be both a little abashed and absolutely wicked—and every bit as devastating as I knew his smile would be. And yet something about it reads as fake to me, almost like something sad lurks beneath it, hidden in the depths that smile conceals.

Like this is a man who has secrets no one has ever cared to discover, the kind of secrets you could spend decades uncovering and still not learn them all. And damned if that doesn’t make him even more alluring than before.

While I’m watching Ivrael, Izzy leans forward to grab my arm. Khrint jerks her back toward him, and she flashes him an irritated glance. “Don’t be an asshole, dude. It’s not like I’mgoing anywhere. Not while that motherfucker has my sister all entranced or whatever.”

“This is for you,” Ivrael says to the Starcaix girl behind the counter, who simpers at him. “For the ribbon. And any trouble I might have caused you.”

The duke flicks his fingers as he walks away from the vendor-chick, and Khrint pushes us to keep following him.

When Izzy steps forward and falls into step beside me, the valet doesn’t stop her.

“What’s wrong with you?” she whispers. “You’re acting like…some kind of zombie or something.”

I shake my head silently. It’s taking every bit of self-control I have to keep my terror, my fury, under control. I’m afraid that if I try to answer her, a year’s worth of horror and rage, all shoved down deep inside me until I feel like I’m nothing but raw, volatile emotion wrapped in a fragile shell of a person—all of it will explode.

And I’m not certain what will be left of me afterward if I allow that to happen.

So instead of speaking, I examine my sister from head to toe as we walk, appraising her clothing. Not like I would have a year ago, checking to make sure she wasn’t wearing anything that would cause people at school to ridicule her, but for its sturdiness, its appropriateness as winter wear.

I cringe at what I see. Izzy looks cute in jeans and a light sweater with a thin coat over it, and it’s appropriate clothing with outerwear thick enough for a Texas winter, but Adefina is definitely going to have to stitch together a couple more worn-out cloaks for her, too.

“Dammit,” she says, her voice hitching in her throat. “Quit staring at me like that. Talk to me. What did that guy do to you back there? Does he have you under some kind of hypnosis or something?”

When I don’t answer, she grabs my hands and tugs on the ribbons tied to my wrists, trying to untie them. When that doesn’t work, she tries to fray them, even resorts to chewing on one of them, earning another shove from Khrint as she stops walking for a moment. But no matter what she does, the ribbons don’t come off.

“What the…”

“Who are these people, Sissy?” she asks, falling into her childhood name for me.

“They’re—” Nothing more comes out. Izzy stops, grabs my shoulders, and holds me back with her, her gaze searching my face as my arms begin to twitch upward, tugging me toward Ivrael. “What happened to you while you were gone? You look terrible.”

All I can do is fall back on sarcasm. “Gee, thanks. I’m so glad to see you, too.”

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