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  “Jesus,” he muttered when he was finished, the gun slipping from his fingers and landing on the cement floor with a clatter.

  They lay motionless in front of him, their arms and legs spread, the glow from their uniforms dulled. Avoiding them, he ran out of the storage closet, the sky bright and making him squint despite the clouds.

  “Samantha!” he screamed her name, his voice ringing through the trees.

  Nothing.

  Panic lit within him, making his heart race, his blood pump ferociously, and he ran into the women’s bathroom.

  She wasn’t there. Just her purse, lying discarded on the floor.

  “Shit.” He crumbled, fell to the ground and clutched her purse to his chest. It smelled like her, floral and sweet and he brought it to his face, breathing deep and feeling like a complete jackass. “Where are you?” he whispered.

  The corner of his eyes stung. He blinked and ran out of the bathroom, the purse still clutched in his hand. He ran and ran, looking in every building, every car, even the trailers of the semi-trucks, shooting each of the locks off. He’d throw open the doors, hopeful she would be lying in wait for him but there was nothing but emptiness.

  Nothing. She was nowhere to be found.

  Rage filled him. He went to his truck and climbed inside, starting up the engine. Backing out of the parking spot, he swung back onto the empty freeway, headed toward Vegas.

  He had no idea where to go. No idea how to find her.

  Damn it. Would he ever find her?

  I must.

  Chapter Seven

  They’d knocked her unconscious, the aliens or whatever the hell you called them. One moment she’d been standing in the women’s restroom, ready to walk out and find Russ and then they’d appeared out of nowhere.

  And taken her to this…place. It looked like a hospital, but she knew it wasn’t. It was makeshift, something they created. The room was white, almost completely empty with the exception of a sleek white cabinet that occupied the entire corner of the room and a thin bed that reminded her of a gurney but without wheels.

  Which she just so happened to be strapped down to.

  Struggling against the restraints, she realized quick it was no use. The more she struggled, the tighter they seemed to get. As if they had their own sort of power, as if they could sense her strength and fought it with equal measure.

  A sob welled in her throat and she choked it down. No way could she cry, not like this. She needed to get the hell out of here. Where was Russ? Had they done something to him? Did he know where they took her? Had they taken him as well?

  She thought of her dream yet again. How they talked about disposing of the male subject and how he was no longer an issue.

  Had that really happened?

  A fair mixture of panic and fury swirled inside her gut, and she gritted her teeth, jerking against the restraints that were made of some sort of rope. They cut into her skin, rubbing it raw, and tears leaked from her eyes. She ignored the pain and pushed on, a cry escaping her when she felt the rope slice against her left wrist. Blood seeped, trickling down her arm but still, she pushed on.

  She wasn’t going to let these—things break her, damn it. She had to escape.

  If she didn’t, who knew what might happen to her?

  A quiet swoosh sounded, and she looked to her right to see two of them standing in the doorway, quiet and intimidating in their silver metal uniforms and helmets, their faces black, almost shadowed.

  She couldn’t make out their features no matter how hard she stared. Which was probably best. For all she knew their faces could be horrifying.

  Monsters.

  Without saying a word, they approached her and she fought against the restraints once more, vigorously, grunts of frustration escaping her. The ropes cinched tighter, so tight her arms and legs were pressed into the firm mattress and she gave up with a cry.

  It was no use. The restraints would sink her into the bed completely if she continued her fight. And her arm hurt, the rope cutting deeper into the wound, the blood dripping down her arm.

  “Cease your movements.” She didn’t see a mouth move but could hear the voice, high pitched and foreign sounding. Were they even speaking English? She didn’t think so.

  But how could she understand them?

  “Fuck you,” she mumbled defiantly. Maybe she was being stupid but screw it. She was so far gone, facing death, no doubt, that it really didn’t matter any longer.

  If she was gonna go, she was gonna do it warrior-style.

  “Your crude language isn’t becoming.”

  “Who the hell are you? Miss Manners?” She sneered, laying it on thick. She’d rather they kill her now than go through whatever they planned to do to her.

  “Silence.” His dark command in the weird voice wasn’t very effective but she did as he asked. Weariness settled over her and she closed her eyes, wondering if they’d somehow used mind control to get her to cooperate. “Your resistance is most disconcerting.”

  It sure was. Not that she was resisting at the moment. Her entire body felt heavy, as if something sat on top of it and she lay there, eyes still closed, mind filled with thoughts of…

  Russ.

  How much she liked his smile, his strength, that quiet confidence he exuded even while he slept. He was a man not to be trifled with. A man she admired.

  A man she could easily fall in love with given the chance.

  “Stop thinking of him. He’s gone.”

  Her eyes snapped open. How did that voice get in her head?

  “Don’t fight it. You’re one of us now.”

  “Hell no, I’m not,” she whispered.

  They approached her, standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her though she couldn’t see their eyes. Felt their gazes crawling over her. Assessing her, calculating her worth, her entire body and how they could use it.

  What did they want from her?

  Samantha gasped, an icy sensation sweeping over her and her clothes evaporated. They just dissolved, as if they’d never been there. She lay naked, completely exposed and cold metal hands clutched at her ankles, wrenching them apart.

  “No,” she sobbed, the tears coming freely. It was as if she had no control over her emotions, as if they wanted to see her fall apart.

  “Lieutenant Russell Weaver is no longer with us. Your senseless emotions are futile.”

  She didn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe it.

  The metal hands slid up her calves, over her knees, pushing at her inner thighs. Her body wracked with shivers, she bit her lower lip, revulsion filling her as they touched her in such a sexual yet clinical manner. The hands went higher, spreading her wide and she cried out at the invasion.

  “It’s too late. We found her too late.”

  The hands moved away from her body, the disgust in the strange voice unmistakable. Confusion filled her. Why were they too late? And for what?

  “The male subject impregnated her. Her womb is already full.”

  Shock washed over her in consuming waves. What in the world? No way could Russ have impregnated her. She only just met him…

  And she’d had sex with him earlier this morning without a condom. But it was impossible. She couldn’t be pregnant. How could they even know?

  “When did he impregnate you? When?”

  She ignored the voice in her head and thought again of Russ. Slowly she closed her eyes, seeing him, his strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, his mouth fused with hers, his cock buried deep inside her...

  Samantha’s head throbbed, her temples pounded as the implications of what they said hit her. Could they really have made a baby together in that one stolen moment? She’d ignored the use of protection because she’d figured it pointless. It had been a reckless move, but she’d believed recklessness wasn’t in the cards any longer.

  They were doomed. They were going to die. One encounter without protection really didn’t matter in the scheme of things.

&
nbsp; “We weren’t fast enough. The male subject filled her with his semen, and she now carries his child.”

  The disgust in the alien’s voice was evident. It wasn’t pleased with this particular discovery. She shouldn’t be pleased with it either.

  But along with a healthy dose of shock also came the tiniest bit of…elation. She figured they didn’t know what the hell they were talking about considering it hadn’t been more than a few hours since they’d had sex.

  The thought of being pregnant, carrying Russ’s baby…oh, it was crazy. And exciting.

  Just the tiniest bit thrilling.

  “She’s useless to us.” The voice lowered to the barest whisper. “We must dispose of her.”

  Her mood crashed, terror filling her at their words. It was hopeless.

  She was as good as dead.

  For whatever reason, Russ pulled up in front of the casino where he’d met Samantha. The building was deserted, but it still stood tall as did the two hotel towers and the parking garage. Not a trace of damage could be seen which he found—strange.

  The rest of the block, however, had been completely decimated. Demolished, nothing left but a cloud of powder and a pile of bricks and cement.

  There was a reason for this. It felt as if the casino had been singled out. And he’d finally figured out the reason.

  They really had wanted Samantha. For what, he wasn’t sure.

  A hinky sensation slithered down his spine. He didn’t really think he wanted to know what they wanted from her. It was almost too horrifying to think of.

  Which meant he had to find her right away. He couldn’t wait another minute.

  Climbing out of the truck, shotgun in hand, he entered the casino with ease since the doors were wide open. The giant room was cold, quiet. Freaky.

  It was strange, being inside the abandoned place when it was usually filled with people and bustling with activity. He wound through the casino floor, past the quiet slot machines, the empty blackjack tables until he found himself in front of the bar.

  Without hesitation he entered the small, dark spot, as if guided by some sort of unknown force. Walking into the backroom, he stilled, swearing he heard a voice.

  Heard Samantha—Samantha’s unmistakable voice, her sharp cries ringing down the hall, throughout the entire building as if someone was hurting her.

  Fury choked him, dark and swirling from within. His entire body taut, he clutched the gun in front of him, sneaking down the hall with stealth-like precision.

  He was going to surprise those motherfuckers and he was going to take them down. And if he was sacrificed in the battle, then so be it as long as Samantha survived.

  Russ frowned. He didn’t want to leave her all alone in this shithole existence, either. He had to be smart enough, careful enough.

  He had to survive. He didn’t have a fucking choice.

  Finger tensed around the trigger, he rounded the corner, heard the now familiar yet disturbing voice of one of those alien…creatures.

  “We weren’t fast enough. The male subject filled her with his semen, and she now carries his child.”

  What the hell? Russ hovered by the side of the doorway, not ready to reveal himself just yet. Had they said what he thought they said? And where they referring to Samantha carrying his child?

  It sounded impossible. Freaking unbelievable. They had to be talking about someone else.

  But when he peeked his head around the corner and saw her lying there completely naked and restrained on a sleek hospital gurney, sobbing as two metal-covered creatures stood before her, he knew they were talking about her.

  And him. Making a baby.

  How the fuck would they even know?

  “She’s useless to us now. We must dispose of her.”

  Aw, hell no. With a loud cry worthy of a warrior of old, Russ jumped into the doorway, gun drawn and pointed directly at the alien beings. Samantha screamed his name, jerking against the restraints and he swore he saw blood dripping down her arm in a stream.

  His vision blurred, went as red as the blood flowing from her wound and he fired. The rapid, rhythmic sound of gunfire was loud, popping in his ears as he shot at first one creature, then the other. The bullets flew off the metal that covered their bodies, ricocheting throughout the room and Russ ducked, trying to avoid getting hit.

  They still stood, completely unfazed. Quiet and calculating as they watched him with their blank faces, their unknown eyes. He felt them look at him, though. And he knew they didn’t like what they saw.

  He really didn’t give a crap.

  Running up on them, he kicked first one, then the other right in the middle, making them double over. A strange, high-pitched sound pierced the air, slicing through Russ’s head and making it throb. He covered his ears as he jumped over the two aliens who fell onto the ground and went to where Samantha lay strapped to the thin bed.

  “You’re here.” Sobs consumed her, tears streaming down her cheeks, her beautiful eyes bloodshot. “I knew you’d be here.”

  “I gotta get you out of here, baby.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to her swollen lips. God, he’d missed her. “They’ve hurt you.” Rage boiled inside him and he pushed it down, refused to let it consume him. “I need to cut the restraints off.”

  She nodded, her dark hair tumbling into her face. He pushed it out of her eyes, off her forehead, his hand shaking. He couldn’t believe she was here, in front of him. Alive. Reaching inside his front pocket, he whipped out his handy pocketknife and pushed the tiny button so the blade flicked out. He cut the restraints on her ankles first with a quick flick of his wrist, then cut the rope from her uninjured wrist.

  Eyeing the injured arm, his stomach roiled with nausea. It was bad, the skin rubbed raw, the wound deep. Blood still flowed, dark and thick and he swallowed hard, his hand shaking as it neared her wrist.

  “Just do it.”

  Russ glanced up, saw that Samantha watched him, her eyes full of sorrow. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than necessary.”

  “You’re here. That’s all I need, and I can’t even feel my arm anymore.” She sent him a wry smile that tore his heart apart.

  Scowling, he slid his knife beneath the tight restraint and tugged the blade through the thick rope. It came apart with ease and she gasped, immediately clutching her injured arm to her chest. A fresh gush of tears spilled down her cheeks and he swiped them away with the pad of his thumb.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Sit up.” He tugged her into a sitting position and she fell forward, almost toppling off the bed. Russ caught her in his arms, holding her close. “Easy.”

  “I can walk,” she argued, but he shushed her, hauling her into his arms.

  “I can’t wait for you, baby. We gotta bust out of this place.” Metal clanking sounded in the distance, and he gritted his jaw. “Before they get us.”

  Chapter Eight

  Samantha slipped her arms around Russ’s neck and buried her face against his shoulder as he clutched her close in his arms. Breathing deep, she inhaled his scent, spice with a hint of sweat and utterly unique.

  God. It felt so good to be in his arms. She wanted to fall apart. Cry and cling and never let go. But she needed to remain strong. Her wrist throbbed and her entire arm was sticky with dried blood. She grimaced when he adjusted his hold on her, jostling her injury in the process.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. He sounded furious. Those damn alien creature things were behind them, she could hear them struggling to stand, the clang of metal ringing loud and she knew Russ was right.

  They needed to get out of there.

  “Just follow my lead,” he whispered close to her ear before he dropped a kiss on it. “Don’t question me, don’t say a word. I’m going to get you out of here.” A pause. “Alive. I promise.”

  She could only cling to him. He was her lifeline, the one thing that kept her filled with hope and she wasn’t about to question his motives or intentions. He would do right by
her. She trusted him.

  Completely.

  Gathering her in his arms, he ran out of the room, his chest heaving with exertion as he exited the hall and entered a small bar. Her eyes widened as she glanced around the familiar spot.

  It was the very bar where they’d first met.

  Unbelievable. They’d brought her back to the casino. Had the aliens somehow found out she was staying there? But why bring her back? And how had Russ known she was here?

  She didn’t bother questioning him. Could only thank whoever or whatever that he had the force of mind to find her.

  “My truck’s out front. I’m shoving you in through the driver’s side, and you’ll scoot all the way across the seat to let me in. You can’t even hesitate. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “They don’t seem to be following us.” He quickly glanced over his shoulder. “Fucking weird.”

  No protest from her. If they didn’t want to follow, she was fine with that.

  But he was right. It was really weird.

  He ran through the open doors of the casino that led outside and onto the sidewalk. The sky was still faint with light, the clouds low and dark, and she had no idea what time it might be. It appeared ready to storm, and she hoped like crazy the truck was filled with gas and they could get the heck out of here.

  She couldn’t stand the thought of being in Vegas any longer.

  “Get in,” he commanded as he wrenched open the driver’s side door of the truck.

  Releasing her hold on him, she scrambled into the truck and slid all the way across to the passenger side. He reached into the back of the truck and grabbed a bag, tossing it toward her before he climbed in. He went for the keys, which were already in place and turned the ignition, the truck roaring to life with ease. Without hesitation he slammed the door, shifted the truck into drive and took off, the tires squealing loudly as they peeled across the street.

  She unzipped the bag and reached inside, grabbing an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of leggings that must’ve belonged to his mother. Thankful for the clothes, she hurriedly put them on.