Page 11 of Decadence

And slowly but surely, she’d realized that the things she’d found thrilling at first could become corrosive and dangerous.

She sure knew how to pick them, didn’t she?

The sun always incinerated everything in its path.

This alien sitting before her, who she just couldn’t help but stare at? His amber eyes burned like the fucking corona of the sun.

Sienna forced herself to look away, breaking the spell as she sat down in the dark chair. Its smooth, curved edges seemed to mold around her body, pulling her into a strange kind of embrace… almost if the chair itself were alive. She tried to relax, but she was too spooked.

Hot, but only ever to look at, she decided, feeling a little ridiculous. She liked her current boring nonexistent love life. Don’t be stupid. What would he want with you, anyway?

“Are you well, Miss Siennadamo?” Abruptly, the alien rose to his feet and stepped forward, moving like water through the shadows. Like the assistants, he wore a plain black uniform, but there were subtle differences to his outfit. His jacket was finely cut, with a high collar and long twin tails at the back, giving him a slightly rakish appearance. Sleek, tapered trousers were tucked into high boots. He looked sharp and formal and dangerous, as if he were about to attend some important diplomatic event—and perhaps quietly threaten a whole bunch of powerful people.

Siennadamo? She blinked. What the hell is he talking about? “It’s Sienna. Just Sienna. Adamo is my family name. Wait. How do you know my…” Surname?

She didn’t remember ever telling them that particular detail.

The Kordolian extended his hand, palm facing upwards. His expression was so terribly stern and serious that for a moment she wondered if she’d done something wrong, but he kept his hand just in front of her and waited patiently…

For her to take it.

Oh. Is he actually… trying to shake my hand? His palm is facing the wrong way.

If he weren’t so damn intimidating, she might find it endearing.

Sienna quickly closed her fingers around his and turned his hand so it was the right way; sideways, instead of palm facing upwards. She gave his hand a quick, firm shake and withdrew her fingers, as if recoiling from touching something that was white-hot.

The handshake lasted barely long enough for her to register that his grip was firm and sure and yet somehow gentle. His fingers were long and elegant—a little longer than a human’s—and his touch was intentionally non-threatening.

“I am Ikriss,” the alien said. Although he spoke quietly, his voice carried the unmistakable ring of authority. He was the kind of guy who probably never had to raise his voice to get what he wanted.

“Sienna. How did you know my surname, then?” she asked pointedly. She wasn’t about to let her earlier question slide. “And yes, I am well, thank you very much.”

The Kordolian’s lips curved into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I can understand your curiosity. You haven’t provided any of your personal details to my personnel.”

“Nobody asked.”

“I forbade them from interrogating you.” He offered her a curt bow of apology. “It wasn’t at all my intention to unsettle you. It seems I was given slightly inaccurate information.” His expression turned icy, and Sienna wondered if whoever was responsible for the inaccurate information would be on the receiving end of some serious unpleasantness later on.

“Someone told you who I am,” she said, trying not to let her nervousness show. “You have data on me.” How much, though?

“It’s nothing sinister. We have contacts on Earth within the Federation agencies. There is an agreement in place. We needed to obtain your medical information in order to treat you properly.”

“You obtained my data without my consent…” On Earth, that would be a serious crime, unless one were the Federation, or one of the big datatech companies that every citizen signed their life’s story away to at some point in time.

“The situation was unique. When we first received you, there were high doses of sedatives in your bloodstream and you had serious internal injuries.” The Kordolian’s eyes narrowed, his expression becoming glacial. “In such a situation, consent becomes irrelevant.” He shook his head and uttered a soft, vicious curse in his own tongue. “It is a small miracle that you were even conscious when we got to you.”

“You were there? You…”

“I am the one that found you.”

“You’re the Shadow,” she blurted before she even realized what she was saying.

You’re him...

That terrifying, obsidian-armored, stone-cold killer.

Holy crap.

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