Page 8 of A Darkside Interlude

Fuck.

“Go,” Torin urged him, as if reading his mind. Typical Torin. The observant bastard must have realized what had happened. The First Division warrior calmly wove between the raging humans, taking one of them down with enviable ease as he nodded at Iskar. “But don’t hurt her, Commander.”

“I’m not a fool,” Iskar grunted as he turned and plunged into the crowd. When he caught her—and he had no doubt he would catch her—he didn’t know what he would do with the cunning female.

His cock still ached, and it wasn’t just because she had driven her damn knee into his groin.

He was still aroused as hell, and that was a fucking problem.

Chapter Four

Barefoot, Mari ran.

Heels were no good for this sort of running, so she’d ditched them. She had hard feet. She’d survive.

Adrenaline coursed through her body as she fled, pushing bystanders aside. Her heart hammered in her chest, and everything in the Glory Strip became hyper-real as time seemed to slow before her very eyes.

The lights were brighter.

The music was louder.

The air was charged with wild, frenetic energy.

Disappear.

She had no choice. If he caught her…

She was screwed. She understood that now.

She’d fucked up. Miscalculated. Maybe desperation had scrambled her instincts. The weird looking guy with the mysterious disguise was dangerous, possibly even more dangerous than the usual criminals and cutthroats that lurked in Darkside.

His grip had been unbreakable, and the ease with which he’d detected her subtle, thieving hand…

Scary.

Even though she’d used all her powers to try and distract him, he’d caught her. Even though she’d felt his massive erection as she rubbed up against him, he hadn’t lost control.

Those strong fingers had closed around her wrist like a steel clamp, and she got the feeling he could have snapped her bones if he wanted to.

She shuddered.

Her marks usually didn’t know what had hit them until she was gone, but this one was different.

As sharp as a fucking blade. As hard as Jentian stone. Swift. Angry. His voice ringing with authority. Who the hell was he?

No, scratch that. She didn’t want to know. Guys like that, you left alone.

Mari slipped the pendant into her belt-pouch as she ran, weaving and darting between startled onlookers. What kind-of stupid impulse had made her take the thing, even after she’d been caught?

Desperation, that’s what. She might never get an opportunity like this again.

The risk she’d taken had to be worth it. As soon as she spotted the necklace, she’d known it was valuable.

Black metal. There was nothing like it on Earth. This was alien metal, and so finely wrought. A ripple of anticipation shot down Mari’s spine. Alien artifacts were hot commodities on the black market, some selling for astronomical prices at auction. Maybe this was the score she’d been waiting for; an item so valuable she could pay off her inherited debts and get the Collector off her back.

But first, she had to get away from the scene of the crime.

Hurry! Get out of the way!