Page 7 of Shielded Heart 1
Her discouragement was so deep that she was caught completely off-guard when someone said in a deep voice, “I can put you to work, terran.”
Samantha’s heart skipped a beat, and she turned to find a bulky, shirtless vorgal with black,movingtattoos depicting various beasts looking at her.
A swell of hopefulness spread through Sam’s chest. “Really?”
He smiled, drawing her attention to the short tusks jutting up from his lower jaw, and nodded.
Sam’s stomach sank when she looked past the vorgal; the door behind him was unmarked and dingy, with faded graffiti on its face, surrounded by similarly grungy walls. She lifted her gaze to see a holographic image projected over the doorway—a naked, dancing volturian female. As the dancer went through her motions, her body morphed, cycling through various species, all nude, all undulating to the dull beat thumping from behind the door.
“Oh.” Samantha returned her attention to the vorgal and offered him an uneasy smile, retreating with her hands up and palms facing him. “No. No, that’s okay. Thank you though. That’s uh…not really the kind of work I’m looking for.”
“A terran would make good credits. More if she takes cock.” The leering vorgal stepped toward her, reaching out with one hand. “Why don’t we see what you—”
She leapt away as though his hand was aflame. “No!”
Her back slammed into something hard. It took her an instant to realize it was a person—a purple-skinned tralix who was three times as wide as her and at least a meter taller.
Before Sam could utter an apology, the tralix spun toward her.
“Watch it!” he snarled, swinging an arm as thick as a tree trunk.
The action reminded Samantha of how someone would move when swatting at an annoying insect. Unfortunately,shewas the insect in this case. His arm struck her with enough power knock her off her feet. She hit several other people on her way down, getting spun around and disoriented in the process.
She cried out in pain as her hands and knees struck the concrete. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. Shakily, she lifted her hand and turned it. Her palm was scraped, with droplets of blood oozing from the torn flesh.
A heavy foot came down on her leg. Samantha cried out again, struggling to stand. Before she could get her footing, someone bumped into her, sending her sprawling back to the ground. Reflexively, she drew her limbs inward in a desperate attempt to protect herself. The crowd rushed around her in an endless stream, none of them caring about Sam or her predicament as they bumped, kicked, and stepped on her.
Trampled to death on an alien planet. Not how I thought I’d go.
A hand closed around her wrist in a powerful but not painful grip. Before she understood what was happening, the hand yanked her up. Her legs wobbled, unwilling to accept her weight, and she felt herself falling again.
She was stopped when a solid arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close to the alien to whom it belonged.
“This is why I avoid going out,” said a deep, smooth voice very near her ear. “So few decent people in this city.”
Samantha threw her arms around the male, clutching tight in fear she’d get swallowed up by the crowd once more. He was slightly stooped, leaving her looking over his shoulder and unable to get a glimpse of his face. But she certainly felt his body; he was dressed in a black, silken garment that lay in a thin layer over the hard sculpted muscle of his torso.
And his scent? It reminded her of sandalwood, woodsy and sweet, at once comfortingly familiar and enticingly exotic. Unable to help herself, she tightened her arms around him and inhaled, drawing in his smell to fight back the pervading stench of too many bodies crammed into too small a space.
Her mysterious savior lifted Sam off her feet and carried her toward the edge of the crowd, shoving people aside with his free arm as he moved. He showed them as little regard as they’d shown her. As mean as it was, she took satisfaction in it. Finally, they emerged from the flow of alien bodies, and he stopped in the entryway of a wide alley.
“Are you all right, little terran?”
“…little terran?” Samantha blinked away the moisture in her eyes. A strange haze had settled over her mind. Was she all right? Only a moment ago, she’d been sure she was about to die, but then she’d been picked up by strong arms and enveloped in the most delicious scent. “I…think so. Thank you. For saving me.”
“No need for thanks.” He eased Sam onto her feet. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
Samantha took a step back to look up at her savior. Her breath hitched, and her eyes flared. Her gaze met not two eyes, butthree, all a luminous yellow with slitted pupils. They were utterly alien and utterly captivating—especially the one in the center of his forehead, which was turned vertically.Dark, slashing eyebrows rested above his other two eyes, leading to a straight, sharp nose, and full, sculpted lips. His dark gray skin was contrasted by glowing yellow tattoos on his face and neck—angular, flowing lines on the left side of his face, including a crescent around his left eye. There were smaller marks on his lower lip and chin. His ears were long and pointed with identical piercings—a loop and three studs—in each one.
Her gaze flicked up to the pair of dark, curved horns at his temples, which swept back from his face. His long black hair hung around his muscular shoulders, some of it arranged in thin braids, with a shorter portion swept to one side of his face. Her eyes dipped lower. His silken robe was reminiscent of a kimono. The garment was partially open, revealing the sculpted muscles of his chest, where there were more glowing tattoos.
As Sam stared at him, her heart quickened, and her pain vanished.
Call me a sinner, because he looks like a demon, and I amtempted.
A flicker of movement called her attention lower still to find a long, thick tail swaying lazily behind him.
“I certainly hope you like what you see,” he said, drawing her eyes back to his face. One corner of his mouth was upturned in a lopsided grin that offered a glimpse of white fangs.
