Romancing the Alpha: An Action-Adventure Romance Boxed Set (45 page)

Something moved through his dark eyes before he shook his head and started off down the dusty street.

As they neared the market, the crowds thickened. The noise increased as well. People had set up makeshift stalls, tables, and tents and were selling…well, just about everything.

There was a hawker calling out the features of his droids. Lexa raised a brow. The array available was interesting—from stocky maintenance droids to life-like syndroids made to look like humans. Other sellers were offering clothes, food, weapons, collectibles, even dragon bones.

Then she saw the cages.

She gasped. “Slavers.”

Damon looked over and his face hardened. “Yeah.”

The first cage held men. All tall and well-built. Laborers. The second held women. Anger shot through her. “It can’t be legal.”

“We’re a long way from the central systems, Princess. You’ll find lots of stuff here on Zerzura that isn’t legal.”

“We have to—”

He raised a lazy brow. “Do something? Unless you’ve got a whole bunch of e-creds I don’t know about or an army in your back pocket, there isn’t much we can do.”

Her stomach turned over and she looked away. He might be right, but did he have to be so cold about it?

“Look.” He pointed deeper into the market at a dusty, domed building with a glowing neon sign above the door. “That bar is where I hear the treasure hunters gather.”

She wondered how he’d heard anything about the place when they’d only been dirtside a few minutes. But she followed him toward the bar, casting one last glance at the slaves.

As they neared the building, a body flew outward through the arched doorway. The man hit the dirt, groaning. He tried to stand before flopping face first back into the sand.

Even from where they stood, Lexa smelled the liquor fumes wafting off him. Nothing smooth and sweet like what was available back on Zeta Volantis. No, this smelled like homebrewed rotgut.

Damon stepped over the man with barely a glance. At the bar entrance, he paused. “I think you should stay out here. It’ll be safer. I’ll find out what I can about Phoenix and be right back.”

She wanted to argue, but right then, two huge giants slammed out of the bar, wrestling each other. One was an enormous man, almost seven feet tall, with some aquatic heritage. He had pale-blue skin, large, wide-set eyes and tiny gills on the side of his neck. His opponent was human with a mass of dreadlocked brown hair, who stood almost as tall and broad.

The human slammed a giant fist into the aquatic’s face, shouting in a language Lexa’s lingual implant didn’t recognize. That’s when Lexa realized the dreadlocked man was actually a woman.

A security droid floated out of the bar. Its laser weapons swiveled to aim at the fighting pair. “You are no longer welcome at the Desert Dragon. Please vacate the premises.”

Grumbling, the fighters pulled apart, then shuffled off down the street.

Lexa swallowed. “Fine. I’ll stay out here.”

“Stay close,” Damon warned.

She tossed him another mock salute and when he scowled, she felt a savage sense of satisfaction. Then he turned and ducked inside.

She turned back to study the street. One building down, she saw a stall holder standing behind a table covered in what looked like small artifacts. Lexa’s heart thumped. She had to take a look.

“All original. Found here on Zerzura.” The older man spread his arms out over his wares. “Very, very old.” His eyes glowed in his ageless face topped by salt-and-pepper hair. “Very valuable.”

“May I?” Lexa indicated a small, weathered statue.

The man nodded. “But you break, you buy.”

Lexa studied the small figurine. It was supposed to resemble a Terran fertility statue—a woman with generous hips and breasts. She tested the weight of it before she sniffed and set it down. “It’s not a very good fake. I’d say you create a wire mesh frame, set it in a mold, then pour a synthetic plas in. You finish it off by spraying it with some sort of rock texture.”

The man’s mouth slid into a frown.

Lexa studied the other items. Jewelry, small boxes and inscribed stones. She fingered a necklace. It was by no means old but it was pretty.

Then she spotted it.

A small, red egg, covered in gold-metalwork and resting on a little stand.

She picked it up, cradling its slight weight. The craftwork was terrible but there was no doubt it was a replica of a Fabergé egg.

“What is this?” she asked the man.

He shrugged. “Lots of myths about the Orphic Priestesses around here. They lived over a thousand years ago and the egg was their symbol.”

Lexa stroked the egg.

The man’s keen eyes narrowed in on her. “It’s a pretty piece. Said to be made in the image of the priestesses’ most valuable treasure, the Goddess Egg. It was covered in Terran rubies and gold.”

A basic history. Lexa knew from her research that the Goddess Egg had been brought to Zerzura by Terran colonists escaping the Terran war and had been made by a famed jeweler on Earth named Fabergé. Unfortunately, most of its history had been lost.

Someone bumped into Lexa from behind. She ignored it, shifting closer to the table.

Then a hard hand clamped down on her elbow and jerked her backward. The little red egg fell into the sand.

Lexa expected the cranky stall owner to squawk about the egg and demand payment. Instead, he scampered backward with wide eyes and turned away.

Lexa’s accoster jerked her around.

“Hey,” she exclaimed.

Then she looked up. Way up.

The man was part-reptilian, with iridescent scales covering his enormous frame. He stood somewhere over six and a half feet with a tough face that looked squashed.

“Let me go.” She slapped at his hand.
Idiot
.

He was startled for a second and did release her. Then he scowled, which turned his face from frightening to terrifying. “Give me your e-creds.” He grabbed her arm, large fingers biting into her flesh, and shook her. “I want everything transferred to my account.”

Lexa raised a brow. “Or what?”

With his other hand, he withdrew a knife the length of her forearm. “Or I use this.”

Lexa narrowed her eyes, anger shooting through her. She opened her mouth, about to blast the alien idiot, when a lean, dark shadow burst between her and her attacker.

As she watched, Damon slammed a hand into the man’s neck and the reptilian dropped like a meteor into the sand, immobilized by whatever Damon did to him.

Damon snatched up the knife. “You’ll want to think twice before you threaten someone smaller than you. Especially a woman.” He leaned down closer to the alien. “If I get even the smallest hint that you’ve attacked someone else while I’m on this godforsaken planet, I’ll gut you.” He turned his gaze to the knife, holding it up, the sunlight glinting off the blade. “And I’m keeping this.”

The reptilian groaned, holding a hand to his neck. “What did you do to me?”

“It’ll wear off…eventually. Now, get out of here before I remember I really, really want to hurt you.”

The man staggered to his feet, and with one hand on his neck and a nasty scowl thrown in their direction, teetered away.

When Damon turned to face her, Lexa opened her mouth to thank him, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the stall.

“I leave you out here for two minutes,
two minutes
, and you get yourself into trouble.”

Her mouth snapped closed. “I hardly—”

But he was on a roll and wasn’t listening to her. “I knew this treasure hunt was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t
my
fault that cretin attacked me.”

“You’re trouble. I knew it the first time I saw you swishing through the hallowed halls of the museum in one of your tight skirts.”

She gasped. “My skirts are not tight.” She sniffed. “They’re fitted.”

“Trouble,” he muttered. “That idiot was going to rob you and slit your pretty throat, or worse, sell you to those slavers in the market.”

She made a scoffing noise. “Like I said, not my fault. Besides, I had it under control.”

But Damon had built up a head of steam. “I just wanted a quiet, easy job for my retirement. Museum security, they told me. Just a bunch of artifacts to keep secure. Easy.” His dark eyes flashed at her. “Yet here I am, on this backwater scummy planet, with a princess who thought she could subdue a robber with a smile.”

“Not a smile.”

“No? So how were you going to show the big, bad alien you meant business, then?”

She didn’t telegraph her intent. She just swiped out with her leg, knocking in his knee and sending him off balance.

He regained it far faster than he should have. The man had skills; that was for sure. He grabbed her arms, but she was already moving. A sharp chop to his side had the air whooshing out of his lungs. He expected her to pull back, so she moved in close and jammed her knee to his crotch.

Not hard enough to hurt him, but firm enough he felt it.

His breathing sped up a little. Not as much as she expected from the short, but intense scuffle, but a noticeable change.

“Maybe I underestimated you,” he said quietly.

“And don’t you forget it.” She lowered her leg and pulled away from him.

“I still think you’re a trouble magnet.”

“And I still think you’re an arrogant ass.” She shot him a thin smile. “Guess we’re even.”

He studied her with contemplation on his face. “Who taught you your moves?”

“My brothers.”

“Brothers?”

“My five
older
brothers.”

Shock registered. “Shit.”

She smiled smugly now. “It gets better. Three are in the Galactic Security Services, one is an Intergalactic marshal and the last is with the planetary police on Maxon Prime.”

Damon made a choking noise. “Princess, you’re lucky you’ve ever had a date.”

She ignored the comment and nodded toward the bar. “So, did you find Brocken Phoenix?”

Damon’s face hardened. “No. And what I found out isn’t very promising.”

“Oh?” Her chest tightened. She didn’t want anything to jeopardize this hunt. “He came recommended.”

“Yeah, sounds like he
was
a half-decent treasure hunter…before he started drinking. Apparently, he wastes most days drinking in the local bars, he drinks on his hunts, and he’s mean with it.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Dammit.”

“You looking for Phoenix?”

Damon and Lexa both swiveled, Damon moving in front of her in an instant. She scowled at his back before sidestepping around him.

A handsome teenager stood slouched against the whitewashed wall of a nearby building, watching them. He had dark hair in dire need of a cut, as it was falling into his bright-blue eyes, and a lanky body that he was still growing into. But he had the clear markings of making a spectacular man one day. Oh yes, the ladies were going to have to watch out for this one.

He was also sporting a black eye that was slowly turning a sickly green.

“You know Brocken Phoenix?” she asked.

“Yeah.” The young man pushed away from the wall and swaggered over, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his well-worn, brown cargo pants. “You’re after a treasure hunter?”

“We are,” Damon answered, eyeing the boy. “One who knows Zerzura’s ruins very well.”

“Then I’m your man.” He jerked a thumb against his chest. “I was born and raised here. Grew up playing among most of the ruins on Zerzura.”

Damon and Lexa shared a quick glance.

Lexa raised a brow. “And you are?”

“Dathan Phoenix. The best treasure hunter on Zerzura.”

***

Damon liked the boy’s confidence. Or rather, cockiness. It reminded Damon of himself at the same age. He’d needed outsized confidence and swagger to survive on the gang-ridden planet where he’d grown up.

Lexa tilted her head. “I thought Brocken Phoenix was the best treasure hunter on the planet?”

Something hard moved in the boy’s eyes. “If you can keep him out of a bottle or ten of kila. Right now, he’s passed out in his bunk at his junkyard and not likely to be up anytime soon. He’ll be barely able to take a piss let alone lead you on treasure hunt.” The teenager cleared his throat and smiled at Lexa. “Excuse the crudeness, ma’am.”

Lexa gave him a look. “I’ve heard worse than that before.” She cursed under her breath. “And dammit, I paid Brocken a deposit.”

“I’m his son. I know everything he knows, but I’m younger and harder working.” A wicked smile. “And more charming.” Phoenix’s gaze drifted down Lexa’s body, lingering on the curves of her hips.

Damon pressed a hand to her shoulder. “Tone it down, kid.”

Damon knew Lexa would have no interest in this boy teetering on the verge of manhood, no matter how blue his eyes and how bright his smile, but Damon felt driven by some unfamiliar burning feeling in his chest. He was here to protect her, whether she liked it or not, and he needed to make sure the kid knew she was off-limits.

Phoenix lifted his hands, palms held up.

Damon shook his head. He could hardly blame the boy. Lexa Carter might be a pain but she was a looker. Space-dark hair she usually left loose in the museum was pulled back in a long tail, accenting a beautiful, interesting face. She had wide, brown eyes, tipped up at the edges, and full, red lips.

And her body…it was exactly as a woman’s should be, with dangerous curves that begged a man to sin. Her white shirt and tan trousers did nothing to hide her figure—the trousers pulled tight over her ass and enough buttons were open on her shirt to showcase the slim chain she wore and the purple pendant nestled in her cleavage.

Lexa was watching Dathan Phoenix with a considering look. “Okay. You get us to our location and I’ll pay you what I was going to pay your father.”

The teen grinned.

She shook a finger at him. “But not the deposit I’ve already paid.”

As the boy pulled a face, Damon hid a smile. The lady was no fool. He already knew there was a quick mind behind her attractive face, and damned if he didn’t like it. Smart women had always been a draw for him.

“So, where are we going?” Phoenix asked.

“I’m not exactly sure. But I have a map of clues.”