Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
In Other Worlds (2 page)
Adron scoffed as he knocked back another drink. He ran from nothing, which was exactly why he was here tonight.
Damn fucking bastards.
Edsel and the others faded into the crowd.
Adron narrowed his gaze on the dead man's friends who'd been laughing earlier. Their faces were pale as they tried to come to terms with what had happened and the speed with which he'd eradicated their sick buddy from their putrid lives. They might have wanted to avenge the dead man, but their common sense prevailed, and one by one they walked over to the bar to claim their free drinks.
The waitress cast one last terrified glance at him, then scurried off to what she perceived as a safe distance. Once upon another life, he could have tracked her to the farthest corners of infinity and killed her.
But those days were gone.
Adron poured himself another drink and savored this one a little slower than its predecessors. His pleasures in life were minimal, and consuming buckets full of the yellow-orange liquid gave him the solace his battered soul craved.
Because tonight, more than ever before, his memories hurt.
He glanced at his chronometer and winced. This very hour marked the eighth anniversary of the night he'd made the “noble” decision he would spend the rest of his life paying for.
Fuck all of you.
But in the end, the only one who'd been really screwed was him.
Adron gripped the bottle tight in his right hand, unable to believe it'd been so long since he'd last walked without a pronounced limp. Moved without pain. Spoken without his throat aching from the effort of it.
Eight years since he'd experienced any comfort or peace whatsoever.
He'd lain in bed for hours trying to sleep. Trying to forget, and finally he'd realized the only way to silence his demons was to drown them out. And nothing worked better than Tondarion Fire, which he'd been out of at his place.
Forgetting the glass and the manners his mother had drilled into him, he tipped the large bottle to his lips and let the fire pour down his throat.
“Hey, baby,” an attractive redhead said as she sauntered over to him and propped a thin hip against his table. “You want some company?”
He tried to wave her away, but she didn't take the hint. Angry over her stupidity, he cleared his throat and braced himself for the pain of speaking. “I have company.” His deep raspy voice grated on his ears. “Me, myself, and I.”
She raked a hungry look over his body, then leaned across the table to show him her ample breasts. “Well, there's enough of me to make all three of you happy.”
There had been a time, once, when he wouldn't have hesitated to take her up on that offer.
But then life was nothing if not ever-changing, and usually it altered on the hairpin of a second.
She licked her lips. “C'mon, handsome, buy me a drink.”
Adron glared at her. She wasn't the first woman to proposition him tonight. And in truth it mystified him that any woman would bother, given the vicious scars on his face. But then, the women in the Golden Crona weren't all that discriminating, especially not when they sensed money.
“Sorry. None of us are interested.”
She sighed dramatically. “Well, if any of you change your minds, you let me know.” With one last wistful look at him, she headed back into the human and alien crowd that drifted through the packed bar.
Adron shifted uncomfortably in his seat as a bone-deep pain shot through his left leg. Clenching his teeth, he growled low in his throat.
One would think the amount of painkillers he lived on, when combined with the alcohol, would squelch any amount of ache or kill him. But it barely numbed his physical hell.
And it did nothing for the burning agony in his heart.
“Damn it all,” he snarled under his breath. He threw his head back and finished off his drink.
He grabbed a passing blue-fleshed waitress and held the bottle up with two fingers to let her know he wanted more.
A lot more.
As he waited for her to return, he saw another woman headed his way. The fierce glare he narrowed on her sent her fleeing in the opposite direction.
He was through playing around. Tonight he intended to get fully flagged, and he pitied the next fool stupid enough to approach him.
Unless they came bearing more alcohol.
Livia typpa Vista had lived the whole of her life in protective custody. More hostage than princess, she'd long grown weary of everyone's dictates for her behavior, and at age twenty-six, she'd had enough.
She was not a child.
And she was not going to marry Clypper Thoran in two weeks. Not even if he were the last male in the universe.
“You will do as you are told and you will not question me. Ever.”
She winced at her father's imperious command. High Eminence he might be, but she, not her older brother, had inherited his stubbornness. No matter the cost, she refused to marry a Territorial Governor sixteen years her father's senior. The very thought made her flesh crawl.
Since Clypper had demanded a virgin for his bride, she knew a way to thwart them both.
After tonight, she would be a virgin no more.
Tomorrow, her father would kill her for it. But better to die than to be married to a cruel, goat-faced ancient who groped her with cold hands every time he got near her.
That will not be my future.
The one thing she had control over was her body, and as of tonight, she was taking charge of it.
That will not be my future.
The one thing she had control over was her body, and as of tonight, she was taking charge of it.
As the cold rain poured over her, Livia stared at the sign above her head. The Golden Crona. Her maid, Krista, had told her about the club. Inside it held all manner of heroes and villains, and though she would rather give her virginity to a hero, she honestly didn't care. So long as he was passably attractive and gentle, he would be good enough for the night.
Gathering her courage, she opened the door and stopped dead in her tracks.
Never had she seen anything like it. A sea of aliens and humans danced and bobbed through the smoky bar that smelled of sweat from many species and of cheap alcohol. The obnoxious music was so loud, it made her ears throb.
A big, orange reptilian male frowned at her as she hesitated in the doorway.
“In or out,” he snarled. “Make a choice quick. I ain't got all night and it's cold outsideâso close the damned door.”
She took a deep breath to fortify her courage. That, and she mentally conjured an image of Clypper's fat jowls and beady, lust-filled eyes. Shuddering, she stepped inside and let the door pulse closed behind her.
The reptile man blocked her from entering. “Twenty-five credits.”
What was he talking about? “Excuse me?”
“Twenty-five credits. You pay or I toss you out on your ass.”
Livia arched a brow at him. It was on the tip of her tongue to put him in his place, but then she remembered he had no idea who she was.
And she must keep it that way.
If anyone learned she was a Vistan princess, she'd be sent back to the hotel where they were staying and her father would beat her just for having left without proper escorts and chaperones. For that matter, he'd beat her for being in public dressed like she was.
Not to mention the fact that her time was short. She had to find a man before someone missed her and started a search.
Pulling out the money she'd stolen from her brother, she paid the fee.
The alien put an iridescent mark on her hand before he allowed her access to the bar.
Her heart pounding in fear, dread, and a dash of excitement, she surveyed the large room full of people. “It's time to find him.” She walked through the crowd and flinched as several unwashed humans eyed her with interest. They definitely weren't any better than Clypper.
Most appeared worse.
Livia quickly amended her list of qualifications to include a man who bathed.
A tall, dark human male smiled at her, displaying a set of black teeth. Okay, she would also add one who knew how to use a toothbrush.
As she crossed the room, she saw a brunet at the bar who looked like a hopeful prospect. She headed for him. But as soon as she drew near enough to see his face clearly, she froze.
It was her father's personal runner.
If she knew how to curse, she would definitely curse at her luck.
Just don't let him see me.
Falling back into the crowd, Livia kept an eye on him while trying to scan the beings around her for her target. Surely, there was someone here who could . . .
A commotion at the entrance caught her attention.
Livia turned to look.
No! She panicked at the sight of her father's royal guard swarming into the bar. Immediately, the gray-clad soldiers began questioning patrons as they spread out to cover as much of the bar as they could.
Fear tore through her. For them to be here in force and that grim meant Krista had volunteered her location, and no doubt her intent as well. She groaned at the very thought.
Father's going to kill me.
How could Krista betray her? Her maid had been so helpful in the planning and execution of her escape.
But then for some unknown reason, Krista lived in fear of Livia's father, and one scowl from him would have easily caused her maid to tell everything.
Right down to the grittiest of details.
She cringed at the thought of her father's reaction. But at least Krista, unlike her, would be spared his wrath. Krista was protected by their laws. Only a male of her own family could punish her, and since Krista had no living male relative . . .
Livia was not so fortunate, and there was no telling what her father would do to her for this.
Chastity was one of the highest virtues any woman could possess on her world. In fact, men and women were allowed to mix only during meals, at chaste royal functions, and when married couples performed conjugal duties. For a woman to seek out a man not related to her was strictly forbidden.
And punished severely.
Publicly.
She shook the fear away. She'd known the consequences before she set out. Either way, she was going to pay for her indiscretion, and if she had to pay, then she was going to make sure she completed the deed.
Clenching her teeth, she scanned the room for a hiding place. At the back of the club were a line of booths. She headed for them.
Unfortunately, all of them were occupied.
Drat!
“Hey, babe.” A rough-looking man stopped her as she tried to move past him. “You want some company?”
She considered it until he reached out and roughly grabbed her arm. He pulled her toward him, his hand biting fiercely into the flesh of her upper arm. “C'mon.” He gave her a slick smile as he roughly ran his hand though her wet hair. “What say you and me head to the back?”
She jerked away from him before he hurt her any more. “No, thank you.” Turning, she saw the guards heading her way as they skimmed the crowd.
Her heart hammering, she ran to the last booth and sat on the empty bench before the guard saw her.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She shifted her gaze from the guard to the man who sat across from her. Livia's breath caught in her throat as her gaze focused on his face.
Oh
. . .
. . .
My
. . .
. . .
He was more than passable.
In fact, she'd never in her life seen a man so incredibly handsome. His features were sharp and aristocratically boned. His dark-blond eyebrows arched finely over the most piercingly blue eyes she'd ever seen.
Dressed all in black, he had long white-blond hair tied back into a neat queue. Clean-shaven and washed, he was gorgeous. An air of refinement and power clung to him.
But his eyes were cold while he watched her. Guarded. They warned her that he was lethal in nature. And by the set of his jaw, she could tell he didn't want company.
He tugged at the black gloves over his hands as he eyed her with malice.
She should get up and leave, especially since he had a fierce scar that ran across his cheekbone to his hairline and then down along his jaw. It looked like someone had intentionally carved it there, which made her wonder just what kind of man he was.
What had he done to deserve such a wound?
Biting her lip in indecision, she glanced back to the guard who was steadily headed this way.
What should she do?
Adron arched a brow at the woman, who had yet to leave him. He was drunk, but not so drunk that he didn't realize the wet little mouse sitting across from him didn't belong in this dive. He could smell the innocence on her.
And it turned his stomach.
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