When had she picked up the second gun?

"Why won't they wake up?" she demanded angrily.

As he soaked in her blue eyes and womanly form, relief was like a living entity inside him. Much as he liked himself, he didn't want to seduce himself. Well, not anymore. There'd been enough of that over the past two years to last a lifetime. "They are merely sleeping."

"You had better wake them up. Or, to answer your earlier question, I'll shoot you withthis."

Fierce, passionate, and now protective. His admiration spiked, and yes, so did his desire, damn his hot-blooded nature. And damn his abstinence. Yet he couldn't deny that he was glad the first woman he'd stumbled upon was this one. Even though he could not control her, she was delectable. To have her the way he wanted her, he would have to calm her, something else he had no experience with.

"Be easy," he said. Surely that would work.

"Don't just stand there," she snapped. "Wake them."

Or not. "Your commands will continue to go unheeded."That is not how you calm a female, I don't think. It was just, Rakan females had striven to do all they could to satisfy those around them-before the disease, that is. They'd rarely argued and had never disobeyed. They'd accepted and they'd agreed, as though the need to please had been ingrained in them at birth.

This woman obviously bowed to no one. That should have angered him, or at the very least deterred him. Yet he could suddenly imagine being tied up,dominated,helpless to this female's pleasure as she ground herself on his cock.

Interesting, but not something he could allow. There was just too much risk. To give up control was to invite bloodshed.

He stood there, unsure how to proceed. Howdidyou calm a female you could not bend to your will, if silken commands failed? His men shifted uncomfortably, as if, like him, they were trying to decide what to do. They meant well, but he didn't want one of them to take her down or touch her in any way.

"Hold," he told them.

The woman's hand shook-what was her name? He found that he wanted to know as intently as he wanted to know what species she was. Which also happened to be as intently as he wanted to lick her until she came, starting with her breasts and working his way down.

"Didn't I tell you once before to get that look off your face?" she said breathlessly, then fired both guns simultaneously.

He easily leapt out of the way, the blue stun-beam sailing past him. As fast as he could move, the gun's rays were slow motion to him. But one of his men, Eton, did not see the approaching beam and was nailed, instantly freezing in place. The other warriors glanced to Breean, clearly angry that another of their brethren was immobilized and would have to be carried. They wanted to act.

"No," he said. "Mine." To her, he added, "What look?"

"Like you're going to eat me. I don't like it."

"The look will disappear, I'm sure, after Ihaveeaten you." The good kind of eating, too. Not the kind his people had enjoyed, there at the end. He shuddered. "Do not worry, though. I promise not to use my teeth."

Scowling, she fired again, but once more he easily dodged. "Will you just be still already?" Her gaze circled the clearing and she pushed out a frustrated breath. "Come on," she muttered, though he didn't think she realized she'd said anything aloud.

There'd been no sign of anyone out there, but she obviously expected someone to show up and didn't like that they hadn't yet. Better they came here to fight amid nature than to fight amongst the innocents living in the city. He, too, would wait for them. Silver lining: another fight might help dull his arousal.

"What is your name, female?" he repeated, remaining on alert.

"Why did you come here?" she demanded, pretending yet again that he had not spoken. "What do you want from us?"

There had to be a way around her reluctance to share. "Why should I answer your questions when you refuse to answer mine?" Excellent. Soliciting her sense of fair play.

A heavy pause. A grind of her teeth. "My name is ... Macy."

Macy. It was a lovely name, as stunning as the woman herself- whichever face she happened to don (even his)-but it didn't fit her. Still, it was worthy of shouting while pumping inside of her. Over and over again. "I am Breean, and I'm here to make a new home for myself and my men." He'd been searching forever, it seemed, but he'd finally found the perfect place to relocate.

They'd spent the last several months coming and going, preparing. Earth had everything they needed: water, technology beyond their comprehension, medical supplies, and warm female bodies. More than that, the people here knew how to survive. If plague struck, they most likely had a cure. If not, they could create one.

Never again did he want to watch those he loved die of debilitating sickness, helpless as a craving for living flesh bloomed inside them. Never again did he want to feel powerless as others died and he remained strong.

"Earth might play host to all manner of alien races, but its people are in no way welcoming," she said, and she sounded bitter about it.

Did she have firsthand knowledge of that lack of welcome? "Humans will have no choice but to accept us."

"Oh, really? Just like that?"

"Just like that." He hoped. "And now, this standoff is becoming tiresome, Macy." Waiting, he decided, could be done in a more pleasurable way. He approached her, his yearning intensifying-soon, he would be touching her-the scent of honey drifting from him with increasing potency.

Her nose crinkled as though she smelled something distasteful, but her nipples were already pearled for him, pretty and perfect against her clothing. "Whatisthat smell?"

"Arousal," he said, seeing no reason to deny it. He hadn't smelled the lust-craze, which was far more pungent than his fight-craze, in so long he'd despaired of ever smelling it again. Right now, he reveled in it. "Do not try to pretend it displeases you." Not while he could see the rosy flush of her cheeks.

Macy's lush mouth floundered open and closed, and her hands shook. "Arousal makes a man burn, yes? Well, I'll show you something else that burns." Using her thumb, she changed the setting of the pyre-gun and fired at him. Just as before, he grinned and sidestepped the beam-a yellow beam this time, which meant she was through trying to stun him and now wanted to fry him.

Swiftly he closed the distance, stopping mere inches from the barrel. "I believe I mentioned that I'm growing tired of this."

She almost fell backward with the force of her gasp. "And I grow tired of telling you to stay back!" Another shot.

This time, close as he was, he wasn't quite fast enough to dodge. The yellow-gold flame singed his upper arm. "Thathurt."

"Really? I thought you liked to burn."

The scent of honey should have dissipated as that small patch of skin blistered and sizzled. It didn't. In fact, it only seemed to increase. That he desired her enough to emit the telltale perfume despite being injured was baffling. Even with his two-year abstinence, which blew his "I'm just desperate" theory.

How was she drawing more desire from him than any other female ever had?

She wasn't (naturally) golden, as he would have preferred. She wasn't biddable, as he was used to. Being perplexed by her, even enchanted, he understood. She was a novelty. But this much desire? Just then Breean suspected he would have wanted her even if he were sated.

Quite simply, she tempted him on every level.

In theory-he was full of those today-he could have disarmed her, and had her on the ground, penetrated, before she even realized what was happening, the lust-scent making her want it despite everything around her. While some part of him would have enjoyed that, because God knew, hewasa man, the rest of him knew that her willing, wholehearted participation would be a thousand times sweeter. The hardest battles, he'd come to learn, elicited the most gratifying victories.

"You're surrounded, Macy. Drop the weapons and admit defeat. No one is going to hurt you."

"I'll admit defeat when I'm dead. How's that?"

"I'm afraid I cannot grant your request. Your death would disrupt my plans for you."

Her cheeks drained of color, and she lost some of her bravado. "W-what plans?"

Rather than answer her, he tilted his head to the side and regarded her intently, drinking in her sparkling blue eyes with that hint of green and remembering the way she'd moved only a few minutes before. "What planet do you hail from?"

Undiluted panic flooded her expression. Breath rasped from her, so loud in the ensuing silence that the sound of it scratched at his ears.

"I'm from here." She fired. "I'm from Earth."

He ducked. The ocher stream glided straight through the top outline of his essence, which had been left behind by his swiftness. "Liar."

"I am!"

"You say that after everything I've witnessed?"

"Yes." Fire.

Duck. Finally he cut through the rest of her personal space, nothing between them but a whisper. He might not want to force her, but hewouldhave to subdue her before she ran or injured him further. "A human could not change faces and bodies as you do."

"What I am doesn't matter." Just as before, she backed away. Her bottom lip quivered, and tears suddenly glinted in her eyes, crystalline pools of pain, sorrow, and intensified fear. "Now, let the agents go and leave this planet! Please."

Were those tears real or fake? Either way, he actually experienced a desire to wrap his arms around her and ... comfort her? Comfort a woman shooting at him? Strangely enough, yes. Desire truly did screw with a man's common sense.

There had to be a way to stop those tears, disarm her,andget that sweet body under him as quickly as possible, all without using physical brawn. He'd mentioned negotiating earlier. She hadn't seemed interested, but then, they hadn't been discussing her friends.

"Do you wish to bargain for the lives of your fellow agents?"

She stilled, though she didn't lower the weapons. The tears dried, at least. "B-bargain? What is it you want from me? What do I have that you could want?"

"I thought I had made that clear. I wantyou."

For several drags of time, she did nothing. Gave no reaction to his words. No matter her response, he had no plans to kill the agents. They were to be tickets allowing his men to freely roam Earth. He would trade a life for a life. An agent for a Rakan. And if AIR proved dishonorable, attacking after agreeing to such a trade, well, they alone would be responsible for the war that erupted. All he desired was peace for his men. Peace and a new, disease-free life.

Macy couldn't know that, and he didn't mind letting her think she was the cause of his benevolence. If mercy was what she found attractive, merciful he would seem to be.

Too eager, though, he would not be. That would lessen his power. His years negotiating fair prices for his fish had taught him that. "My offer will end in three seconds," he said. "One. Two."

"Three. My answer is no. I'll free them myself."

That intense look of concentration descended over her features again. He tensed, knowing what was coming this time. As her appearance changed from woman to Breean, from humanoid to Rakan, he kicked into hyperdrive. But she quickly gained her bearings and raced to the far edge of the clearing before he could catch her.

Their eyes met in a moment of charged electricity. In challenge. Then, she disappeared again. He was standing in the exact spot she'd vacated a split second later. As his spirit caught up to his body, he looked for her. Spotted her just ahead. Cursed and leapt forward. She might actually be better at this than he was.

She was rushing around the group of agents, trying to uncuff and wake them, and when that didn't work, drag them away. He was there in the next instant, right beside her and gripping her arm, doing his best to contain her without bruising her. Gasping, she jerked from his hold and disappeared.

When he next spotted her, she was darting through the trees, racing away. "Take the prisoners to the dungeon," he flung over his shoulder to his men, then gave chase. He still didn't understand how the AIR agents had known they would be arriving this night, but it didn't really matter. He'd planned to hunt down a few after he settled in, and now he wouldn't have to. Now he could simply begin the negotiations. After he caught Macy, that is.

A few times she actually slammed into the thick trunks. She'dhumph,shake her head, and jump back into motion. Once he clasped her jacket; rather than slowing her down, his grip merely ripped the torn material farther, revealing a shirt that was equally torn, as well as the planes and hollows ofhisback.

The second time he grabbed her, he encountered only hair. Hating himself, he yanked. She screamed, but continued to surge forward, leaving several strands in his fist.

"Stop," he commanded, moving the knife he'd confiscated from her to his boot. When he caught her, and he would, he did not want her having access to it.

"Do you really have to think about my answer?"

"You're not going to escape me. You might as well give up before I'm forced to hurt you."

"Says the man who's losing." She maneuvered around another tree.

Several vehicles loomed ahead. Was anyone inside them? If so, and they hustled away with Macy, he could lose her for good. He knew it, didn't like it, and wouldn't allow it to happen. He was tiring from the day's excess of speed, but he ground his teeth and forced his arms and legs to work faster.

Air beat against him, chilled and biting. His blood ran hot, though, hotter than ever before. He could hear the woman's hoarse pants and imagined her breath floating over his naked chest, then dipping lower, until her mouth encircled his cock in damp heat. Oh, yes.

Arousal spread and gave him strength. Again he quickened his steps, his gaze raking over her body. Or rather,hisbody. Which was weird, but didn't cool his ardor. As if sensing the fervor of his stare, Macy flicked a wild glance behind her. Whatever she saw in his expression panicked her and in less than a blink, she was average height with short red hair and dark brown eyes. Aged skin, a little too tanned.

She slowed abruptly, as if losing her ability to sustain the swift pace right along with her grip of his image, and lost her balance. Down, she tumbled. Breean was on top of her in the next instant, flipping her over and pinning her to a bed of leaves. Allowing his weight to settle atop her, he locked her arms over her head.

"You should have stopped," he panted.

"Calm down, calm down," she chanted, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. She dragged in a deep breath, released it, and was golden, muscled, and tall in seconds.

He scowled down at her. "Change back."

"No." Her eyelids popped open, and his own golden eyes glared up at him.

"Change!" No way would he kiss himself. And oh, yes, he was going to kiss her. Nothing could prevent him from doing so, not even the voice in his head demanding he be gentle with this woman.

"No!"

He ran his tongue over his teeth. If she possessed his appearance and his abilities, surely she possessed his vulnerabilities as well. Once, during a battle with a crowd of infected Rakan females, he'd been bitten in the side. The area had never healed properly and was a liability, for any type of contact would send him to his knees. Even now, there was a twinge beneath the scarred skin.

Knowing exactly where to touch, he reached under the torn shirt she wore and pinched. She screamed in pain.

"Change."

"No," she said, but it was a whimper this time.

He could not back down. He increased the strength of his grip. "The agony will stop the moment you change."

"Fine, okay, yes, but I have to calm down first. Okay? Calm, calm." While she chanted, her eyelids closed again, and she pushed out a shaky breath. Her body slackened. Slowly, so slowly, her face began to rearrange itself, the length of her nose shortening, her lashes becoming longer, paler, her cheeks rounding. Her hair altered from golden to pale.

Disappointed, he shook his head. "I want to see the black-haired wench."

She blinked up at him in horror. "W-what?"

"The black-haired wench with the green eyes. I want to see her."

"How do you- No. Never mind," she snarled, suddenly struggling to gain her freedom. One of her arms succeeded, and she drilled three quick jabs into his nose before he could stop her.

He howled as he snagged her wrist. The little witch. This was going to end. Now. "The time for pain is over, Macy. Now you're going to kiss me and make me better."

CHAPTER THREE