Alien, Mine Read Online Free PDF

Drengel standing in the doorway.
    “It was in the clothing.” She turned the elegant comb over in her hands. “It’s beautiful. What is it?”
    “Stone of moonbeam.”
    She caught the quick, speculative glance he narrowed at her. “What? Is it valuable?”
    “And rare.”
    “Any idea who put it amongst the clothes?”
    His lips pursed. “Someone who thinks you should comb your hair?”
    Or someone who thought I might like to.
    “I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said, handing over the bandage and retreating.
    She registered his departure on the edge of her awareness, her enchanted eyes fixed on the beautiful comb. Carved from a single piece of stone, yet light as air, the artist had captured its glorious colours with breathtaking impact. Tiny swirls and tendrils inlaid with gold traced the wide side.
    With reluctant determination she placed the comb on the bed and dressed. Five minutes later, she tucked the legs of her trousers in her new boots and snapped closed their clasps. Only then did she allow herself the reward of applying the gift to her hair.
    With patient loosening and untangling, she managed to free every knot. And, man, it was heaven to run the teeth of the comb over her scalp. She checked for signs of grey, surprised after all she’d been through she wasn’t totally grey—or bald.
    Her hair was still the same colour though all the curls were gone and now hung straighter than a ruler. Could that account for the extra length—or had she been gone that long? She glared at the new growth extending her hair to several inches passed her shoulder line. At the rate her hair grew that would mean—
    “Good morning, Sandrea.”
    Mhartak’s deep, velvet voice thrust aside the dreadful feeling stealing over her. A burst of delight warmed her insides and she swung toward the door.
    “Good morning, General.”
    Her disappointed gaze fell on the three Angrigans in his company.
    “These officers are here to interview you.”
    She eyed the sharp, precision dress of the soldiers.
    “They are from security.” Discomfort flickered over Mhartak’s features.
    “I understand, General.” A sudden insight bloomed across her consciousness.
    And I’d lay money you’re the reason it’s taken them this long to make an appearance.
    His gaze ran over her smooth tresses and she thought a flare of pleasure blazed in his eyes for just a moment before they returned to his customary, shuttered expression.
    “Are you ready?” he asked.
    She slipped the comb into a pocket. “Whenever you are.”
    “Would you like to remain here or are you comfortable for the interview to take place in an office?”
    She smiled at him. “I have a rather strong urge to see something other than these same four walls. An office will be more than suitable. The further away the better.”
    “You feel strong enough for an outing?”
    Surprise and pleasure comforted her. He really didn’t seem the sort to mollycoddle. Was he making an exception for her? And if so, why? Novelty value? She didn’t much care for that thought.
    “Thank you, I’m fine.”
    He probed her eyes with a quick, piercing stare, nodded, then stood aside for her to pass. Curiosity about what lay outside drove her forward and she stepped by him into a ward all chrome and white. Not far away, Drengel sat at a workstation. He eyed her neat coiffure.
    “I see the comb works,” he observed.
    She smiled her agreement then complied with a gesture from one of the officers to precede him from the ward.
    “I will speak with you later, Sandrea,” Mhartak said as she stepped forward.
    She spun toward him. “You’re not coming?” The prospect of doing this without him daunted her.
    His clear, brilliant gaze drilled into hers. “The officers will be courteous.”
    She mustered a smile. “I’ll look forward to seeing you later then.” She turned and followed one of the security officers while the other two closed in behind. Their hard stares felt like suspicious needles