Free Mystic Militia by Cyndi Friberg Page A

be released. If she bears a boy, Nazerel will keep his son and your sister will never see the child again.”
    What he described sounded so barbaric, so inhuman that—in human. But they weren’t human. If what they said was true, they had escaped to Earth from somewhere out there among the stars. Her mind was paralyzed by the possibilities. She couldn’t even form a coherent question.
    “We’re not going to allow any of that to happen.” Allenton glared at Lor. “Protecting human females is why we’ve come. We will find every last rebel and return them to our world. There will be no captive mates and no stolen children.”
    “But it’s true? That’s how it’s done on your world?” Just the possibility that any woman had been subjected to that cycle of events made Tori physically ill.
    “The old ways have been abolished and the hunt outlawed,” Allenton assured.
    “Which is why they came here,” Lor muttered, then heaved a ragged sigh. “Allenton is correct. We will protect you and prevent any of the rebels from claiming mates. The practice was intolerable on Ontariese and we won’t allow it to spread to Earth.”
    “Ontariese. That’s the name of your planet?” Had she really just asked that question? This was so unbelievable.
    “I am Lor dar Joon, Master Level mage of the planet Ontariese.” He punctuated the statement with a sweeping bow then motioned to his companion.
    “I am Allenton descended from the North, leader of the Mystic Militia.”
    “I don’t think either of those titles is going to fit on a business card.” She allowed herself a nervous laugh then took a long, calming breath. “Victoria Logan, set designer.” After a stunned pause she added, “Welcome to Earth.”
    * * * * *
     
    Meticulously cloaked in Shadow magic, Nazerel stood in the clearing across from Angie’s apartment. Greenbelt . His language infusion provided the proper word for the grassy space on which he stood. Every word in the English language had been implanted in his brain, but many required context for complete assimilation. It was as if he had an invisible translator following him around whispering words in his ear as they became appropriate.
    Beautiful, desirable, female, mate . Those words had popped into his mind the first time he looked at Angie. Unlike the Ontarian peasants, a hunter’s usual prey, Angie had been self-assured and unafraid. Her bright blue gaze met his with obvious interest and he’d never seen hair like hers before. Every color of the harvest threaded through the golden strands, daring him to bury his fingers and anchor her head in place as he ravaged her mouth.
    His long-neglected cock stirred at the thought of touching, seducing and finally claiming her. The pleasure givers that Rodyte bitch arranged to service his men had held no appeal for Nazerel. He wanted Angie, a female who was his and his alone.
    His obsession had begun even before their brief meeting in the noisy gambling hall. Casino . He’d spent hours reading every detail compiled in Sevrin’s… What had she called them? Dossiers , his internal translator whispered. Many of the females had been beautiful. They were all young and healthy, but there had been something about Angie that spoke to him, attracted and tempted him. And tonight she would be his. Well, she’d be within his grasp, maybe even in his bed, but the battle for her surrender would be long and difficult. He smiled as anticipation swept through him like a drug. He loved nothing better than a good challenge.
    Horizontal slats— blinds — partly obscured the front window. He could see someone moving about inside, but they were little more than a shadowed outline. He crossed the parking lot and approached the front door, but he had no intention of announcing his presence. To disperse his corporeal body, he had to release the Shadow shield that concealed him from view. If he didn’t time it just right, he would become visible as he sank through the privacy