Page 23 of Alien Attachment
His hands still on my arm, and he looks at me with those impossible eyes that seem to see straight through to my soul. “You are wrong.”
The simple statement, delivered with absolute certainty, makes something crack open in my chest. Before I can stop myself, I’m leaning closer, drawn by the warmth of his skin, the gentle light of his bioluminescence, the sheer solid presence of him.
“There,” he says, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “It is done.”
I look down at my arm in amazement. The cut is completely closed, the edges already knitting together seamlessly. The skin around it is clean, unmarked except for a faint, iridescent line that glows softly with the same bioluminescence that patterns Jhorn’s skin.
“How did you—” I begin, then stop as I realize how close we are.
Somehow, during his ministrations, we’ve moved closer together in the shadowed alcove. His face is inches from mine, close enough that I can see the intricate patterns of light beneath his skin, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. His eyes have darkened to deep violet, pupils dilated, and through our bond I feel... want. Pure, uncomplicated desire that mirrors something awakening in my own chest.
“Kaylee,” he says, my name a whisper in the space between us.
I should pull away. Should rebuild my defenses, maintain distance, remember all the reasons this is a terrible idea. Instead, I find myself studying the alien beauty of his features, the way his bioluminescence creates shifting patterns of light and shadow, the full curve of his lips that suddenly seem far too appealing.
“This is a bad idea,” I whisper.
“Yes,” he agrees, but he doesn’t move away.
Neither do I.
We’re suspended in the moment, balanced on the edge of something that will change everything. Through our bond, Ifeel his desire, his confusion, his desperate need to be closer, to touch, to claim. It’s overwhelming and intoxicating and terrifying all at once.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor breaks the spell. I jerk back, putting distance between us, my heart hammering against my ribs. Jhorn’s expression is unreadable, but through our bond I feel his disappointment, his regret at the interruption.
“We should go,” I say, tugging my sleeve back down to cover the healed wound. “Before someone comes looking.”
He nods, pulling his hood back up to shadow his features. But as we prepare to leave our hidden alcove, I catch his eyes one more time, and the heat in them makes my knees weak.
Whatever just happened between us, whatever line we almost crossed, it’s changed something fundamental. The bond between us pulses with new awareness, new possibility, new danger.
And despite every logical reason to be terrified, I find myself looking forward to exploring exactly what that might mean.
7
Contact Confirmed
Kaylee
Thefootstepspassbyour alcove without stopping, but the spell is thoroughly broken. I step back from Jhorn, my heart still hammering from our almost-kiss, trying to pretend that my pulse isn’t doing interesting things and that I can’t feel his disappointment through our bond like a physical ache.
“We should get moving,” I say, my voice rougher than intended. “Find that information broker before—”
“Well, well. What have we here?”
The voice cuts through my words like a plasma blade through hull plating. I spin around, hand flying to my blaster, but I’m too slow—still distracted by Jhorn’s proximity and the way his shimmering skin had been shifting to deeper, warmer hues just moments before.
A figure steps from the shadows at the mouth of our alcove, weapon already drawn and aimed at my chest. Human, or mostly human—it’s hard to tell with the extensive cybernetic enhancements covering half his face and body. His left eye glows red, a targeting implant that’s currently fixed on me with uncomfortable intensity.
“Perfect timing,” I mutter. “Because this day wasn’t complicated enough already.”
“Don’t,” he says calmly as my fingers brush my holster. “I’d hate to damage the merchandise. Especially when it comes with such... interesting modifications.” His gaze flicks to the bond-tendril connecting Jhorn and me, lingering with the kind of professional interest that makes my skin crawl.
Ice floods my veins, washing away the lingering warmth from our interrupted moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The bounty hunter—because that’s clearly what he is—smiles without humor. “ApexCorp pays well for lost assets,” he says, gesturing toward Jhorn with his chin. “And they’ll pay evenmore for the courier who absconded with it. Especially if she’s... bonded.”
His gaze drops to the tendril connecting us, and his smile widens with the satisfaction of someone who’s just realized their payday is bigger than expected. “Interesting development. The briefing mentioned a possible psychic link, but this is better than I hoped. Two for the price of one.”
