Sidone (The Hordesmen Book 3) Read online

  Sidone

  The Hordesmen, #3

  Milana Jacks

  This is a work of fiction.

  Characters are products of author’s imagination.

  No man of earth can bang you like this. Unidicks like Kade’s don’t exist. I AM SORRY ABOUT THAT. Believe me, straight women are sorry. Gay women laugh and laugh.

  All rights reserved for Milana Jacks © 2019 and brave souls who will quote some funny shit in their reviews.

  She Alphas,

  may we be them,

  may we breed them.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Fever Exclusive Teaser

  About the Author

  Milana’s Backlist

  Chapter 1

  Kade

  Bullets fly. People scream. I duck behind my truck, then glance over my shoulder and see the Hordesman on the ground, Tabby, his Omega, underneath him. I have no idea if she’s dead or alive. The shooter hid in the big oak tree beyond the overgrown live fence and came at us out of nowhere. I poke my head out from behind the truck. Across the street from the house I work at, reporters in tents scatter every which way. I watch them run. Nobody is falling. The shooter is clearly targeting the Hordesman.

  Doesn’t he know these Alphas have bulletproof armor? Unless…he’s targeting Tabby. Oh, that motherfucker. My rifle is in the back of my truck, under my damn tools. Dad told me to keep it near me at all times. But I just cleaned my damn truck and forgot to put it back near the seat.

  I glance behind me again.

  An Alpha is running, coming right at me. Oh no, not an Alpha. I gape. It’s a girl of their kind. Tits, hips, long-ass legs, and blonde hair. She’s hot.

  “Out of my way!” she shouts at me.

  Coming right at me, she looks like she's gonna tackle me. What the fuck? I crouch. Her boot lands on my shoulder, and then it’s gone. I spin around. She used me as a climbing post to leap on my truck, and she’s gunning for the tree, the shooter’s location. I better cover the girl. Holy crap, action movie!

  I scramble into the back of my truck and get my rifle. Taking cover in the bed, I aim and shoot at the tree. The alien girl crawls up the fence like a damn spider, stands on it…and her body rears back. I think she’s been hit.

  That motherfucker. I flip the rifle to automatic and fire at the tree. The female turns and rattles out a battle cry that makes my skin crawl. “Cease fire!” she shouts.

  Okay, well, that’s good, because I’m out of bullets. I watch the crazy girl throw herself at the branches. At the risk of making myself a bigger target, I climb to the roof of my truck. The shooter is running down the street.

  Oh, no you don’t.

  Through the window, I swing my body into the driver seat and start my badassmobile, then peel out of the gates, tires screeching, lifting dust in my wake. I’ve always wanted to do this. This is fantastic. I love cooking for the crazy Hordesmen. Poison cookies? No problem. They’ll eat them just to see if they’ll die. What’s there not to like?

  And the alien girl? On the street, she’s running after the shooter. She’s fast but not as fast as the sporty bike he gets on and speeds away. I slow down next to the sprinting alien, and she glances my way, does a double take, trips over her own feet, then hurls forward, landing on her hands. I stop the truck and lean an elbow on my window ledge. “I’m that hot, aren’t I, baby?”

  There’s this thing she does with her mouth. I’m unsure. It looks like a smile but also sets me on alert. I smile back. “Get in.”

  Her jaw ticks, and she looks down the street.

  “Save your energy, girl. I’ll give you a workout later.”

  With a grunt, she rounds the truck and gets in the passenger side. Wow, the space just shrank. I stare at her. She’s got a small nose, full lips, slanted pitch-black eyes, and blonde hair pulled into a tight, thick braid. On her lap, she strokes an ax the way one would pet a kitten.

  “Drive,” she snaps.

  Why, yes, ma’am. I gun it after the shooter.

  “Don’t lose him.”

  “I’ll try not to,” I say and glance at her. I. Cannot. Stop. Staring.

  “Eyes on the target, boy.”

  Well, shit. Yes, ma’am again? I press the gas harder and zip onto the main highway.

  “Might wanna put your seat belt on,” I say.

  She ignores me, pulls another ax from a holster behind her back, and places it on her lap. “Less worrying about me, more worrying about what I will do to you if you lose him. Clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” There, I said it.

  “Alpha.”

  “What?” I jerk the truck to the right to avoid hitting the tiny mobile in front of me, then jerk back left when I almost crash into a semitruck, gripping the wheel tightly so the truck doesn’t slide, and finally find my place back in the left carpool lane. The shooter is way ahead, zipping between cars.

  “Faster,” she barks.

  I’m going as fast as I dare, pushing the truck to the max. The girl opens the window and starts crawling out. “What the fuck are you doing?” I’m doing one twenty on a busy highway. From the corner of my eye, I see her legs swing and then hear them thump onto the roof. Holy crap! I’m speeding over one hundred miles an hour with a girl of their kind on top of my pickup. If I lose control, she’ll die, and they’ll strap my ass to a pole. I’ve never seen a woman of Regha, but judging by the way the Alphas care for women, I bet they want this one alive and well.

  The shooter exits the highway.

  I can’t change lanes. She’ll slide right off the roof. I slow down. “Get back inside!” I shout.

  Thumping on the roof. “Follow him.”

  I slow down some more.

  “Faster,” she shouts. “I’m losing the visual.”

  I’m doing ninety now and changing lanes, inching toward the right lane, praying to God she doesn’t fly right off into traffic. In the right lane, I barely make the exit. The moment I come to the fork in the road, she tells me to turn left back into the district we came from. There’s nothing out there but Hordesmen. I turn right.

  The girl jumps into the car and puts an ax to my throat. I keep driving. Sweat drips from my forehead. Why are their women so violent? No wonder they invaded Earth. We got some nice girls down in San Diego. Good Lord.

  “He went this way.” She points. “I saw him turn left.”

  “Yes, but it’s a diversion. The Horde is on the streets, strapping people to the poles and creating general mayhem. He won’t go near them.”

  “Hm,” she says, puts the axes on her lap not behind her back where them sharp things ought to be put away. “Pull over,” she orders.

  I do.

  She turns to me, licks her lips.

  She’s so… different from anything and anyone I’ve ever seen and I can’t stop staring. She stares back, tilts her head, inhales loudly, and narrows her eyes.

  I clear my throat. “Kade Goodman. Hordesmen’s chef, baker of Omega pussy cookies, and maker of the world's finest meatballs.”

  She stares at my hand and shakes it, a little harder than I anticipated. “Alpha Sidone. Nice to meet you, Good Man.” She stares at me with those almond-shaped black eyes, and I almost feel her dominance in the pounding beats of my... dick. My cock got a heartbeat. The big vein in my dick pulses, and I go from zero to a raging hard-on in a second flat.

  “Mm-hm,” she says.

  “Mm-hm what?” My erection? Heat crawls up my cheeks. I’m fucking blushing over here.
<
br />   From her back, she shrugs off the ax holster and shoves the axes inside, but doesn't put them away, keeps them in her lap. “You a local boy?” she asks.

  “I’m twenty-four. Single and available,” comes out of my mouth. There’s something wrong with me. I want to bitch-slap myself.

  “I’m twice your age.”

  I laugh. Puhlease.

  She stares at me as if she’s serious.

  Now, I may not know a ton about Regha aliens but I’ve seen the king and the old Horde Alpha on television and those dudes show their age. This woman shows at most thirty.

  “Local, then?”

  “Born and raised not five miles from here.”

  “Excellent. You will guide me through the area until I kill the man who shot at my nephew.”

  “Terror is your nephew?”

  “My favorite one.”

  “This makes you the king’s sister?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Fuck my life,” I squeak out.

  She gives me a side-eye, a small quirk of her lip but she recovers and turns it into a frown fast. “Drive around. I want to familiarize myself with the streets. The shooter will go into hiding now. The perimeter is secured, there’s no place to run.” Her eyes positively glow.

  I’d rather not have to take the responsibility of the king’s sister, aunt to the Prince of Regha who rules us all. “About the guide thing,” I say and start the truck.

  “What about it?”

  “Terror expects me at the mansion. In fact, I just went shopping for cake supplies.”

  “Cancel the plans. You’re staying with me.”

  “But I’m the chef for—”

  “Find us a place to lie low and wait, and do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it. Clear?”

  I scrub my jaw. “I would, gladly, but I also need the job, and I would hate to hang off a pole and starve. That would make me a very bad chef. A starving chef is generally never hired again.”

  She nods. “Then don’t disappoint me.”

  “All right. I’ll call in as soon as the tech comes back.”

  “Negative. I don’t report to Terror, your prince, or my king for that matter. Where are you going?”

  “Driving around like you said.”

  “Thank you. Head for the tallest building in the area.”

  “That would be the Frontline Hotel. It’s a large private property, fenced-in beach area. Real nice.” And definitely not in my budget.

  She nods.

  I purse my lips, thinking how in the world I can get away from “helping” the king’s sister find a shooter who could kill her when her armor is down and make the rest of my very short life miserable hell. Cooking nice things for Hordesmen makes them happy. Guiding their aunt around a dangerous mission I’m fairly certain wouldn’t make any of them happy. They’re overly protective of women. Or just Omegas. I have no fucking clue. I laugh, a bit hysterical.

  Sidone smiles.

  Well, would you look at that. At the corners, her eyes lift.

  “Your laugh is funny,” she says. “You sound like a hungry nesser baby.” And then she makes this horrible noise that I hope isn’t what my laugh sounds like.

  “I aim to please,” I deadpan.

  “Mm-hm.”

  I don’t know what mm-hm means but I’m certain I’ll find out soon.

  Chapter 2

  Sidone

  The human male who smells suspiciously like something I’d lick drives by the hotel’s entrance and enters the dark parking garage under the structure. He turns off the engine and opens his mouth.

  I interrupt the incoming speech. “This is not the front door.”

  “Are we undercover?”

  Under cover. He wants a blanket? I frown. My old translator doesn’t work as well as some of the newer ones. “Explain this term.”

  “Sneaking up on the shooter.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you can’t just waltz into this place with your axes swinging.”

  A waltz translates as a dance. “I don’t dance, human. I walk or march. And if my axes are swinging, heads are already flying.”

  Kade smiles. He’s got beautiful white teeth, a full set of brown hair with sun-kissed highlights, and piercing green eyes that stand out against his tanned skin. He’s a pretty male. Perhaps a good lover, or a total disaster. I don’t have time to test his bedroom skills. After I kill the shooter, as Kade has named the human who dared fire those little brass projectiles at my nephew, I’ll keep searching for Mr. VP, as I’ve named the man who cut into my Alpha soul when he imprisoned me.

  “It’s an expression. I don’t literally mean dancing.”

  “I only understand literal terminology. Speak what you mean.”

  He nods, then licks his lips. They’re luscious and big, made for eating pussy. I follow his tongue with my gaze, the bobbing of some guy’s apple on his throat, down the tight black T-shirt that hints at his fitness, and to his jeans, where there’s a large bulge. Big thick cock. Made for seed milking. I inhale his arousal. He shifts in his seat.

  A hand covers mine, and I jerk back. “Don’t touch me.”

  He raises both arms. “Did you hear what I said?”

  Didn’t even notice he’d been talking. Distractions, distractions. I narrow my eyes. “Are you registered as an Omega?”

  He scratches his head. “No, I’m pretty sure I am what Terror would call a Beta.”

  “Terror can’t make that call.” But I can. I don’t say that. Clearly, this man hasn’t displayed his dynamic. It is not a surprise. I’m the only Alpha female on the planet, and I don’t mingle with the population. My purpose here is not the same as that of my nephews or an average Alpha male. Though I came to Earth to find an Omega, that quickly changed when Mr. VP lured me into a trap and locked me up. The day Loven opened the door to my cryocell was the day Mr. VP was dead. My former captor doesn’t know he’s dead yet, though he will soon, for I won’t settle until I’ve found him.

  I scrub my nose, wishing I didn’t have to breathe. The Omega’s—and I’m certain this is an Omega—arousal muddies my thoughts. “Repeat what you said.”

  “Please,” he counters.

  “Please.” See, I can be nice? I show him my teeth.

  “Wait for me here.”

  “Because?”

  “Because I’m gonna get us inside.”

  “It’s not very hard to get inside.”

  He scratches his head. “Um, you’re a Regha girl. If you walk in there, people will notice.”

  “As they should.”

  “That’s the opposite of undercover.”

  “I don’t sneak up on my opponents. I challenge them.”

  “Right. This opponent is hiding. He’s not gonna respond to your challenge.”

  I tap my claw. “I don’t like your under cover.”

  He leans in, inches from my face, and his scent stuffs my nose. If I don’t lean back, he might poke me with his projectile-like nose. Of course I don’t lean back. I’m not afraid of his nose. “I am a master of under covers.”

  I give him the side-eye. “Something got lost in translation. Explain this to me.”

  “I’ll show you.” He waggles his eyebrows.

  Wha… Is this Omega boy flirting with me? I widen my eyes.

  He smirks and reaches over me, then pops open the glove compartment, though I’ve never seen a single person on the planet actually put gloves there. He takes out a clip with green papers they call money and exits the car.

  “I will need the advantage of height,” I say.

  The man leans his elbows on the window ledge and smiles. I think he thinks he’s got the upper hand. “Translate,” he orders.

  I smile back like a toddler at vanilla ice cream. I’m gonna eat you, boy. “The room at the very top of the structure. If not, I will have to disable their security protocols and alarm systems. For humans’ safety reasons, I don’t want to have to do that.”

  “You
want a penthouse.” He stares at the wad of money in his hands. “Um, I’ll try to get us a comp.”

  “You will get us a penthouse where privacy is guaranteed, and they will guarantee this with their lives.” I dig into my pocket for my own papers and get Raven’s card. My baby Raven. Always makes sure I’m taken care of.

  Kade takes it. “This will tell everyone you’re connected to the Hordesmen. Let me just pay for a regular room.”

  “A penthouse,” I say more firmly. “Provide them with this card. If they are stupid enough to say something, they are too stupid to live. I don’t believe many humans come to work thinking: I wonder how I can piss off Hunger by yapping about his official business.”

  “Good point.”

  “Thank you, Omega.”

  “You think I’m an Omega? As in Omega man?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “And how can you know?”

  I touch my flat-compared-to-his nose. “The scent of your arousal.”

  “You can smell I’m hard?”

  “Yes.”

  He purses those full lips. “And you’re an Alpha woman?”

  A female, but I’ve grown tired of correcting the humans on this. “Mm-hm.”

  He drums his fingers on the red door. “This is destiny.”

  “Maybe. Will see.”

  He winks. “You are welcome to stare at my ass.” He chuckles and swaggers off.

  Of course, I stare at the fit globes of his behind. “I don’t need your permission to stare,” I whisper.

  “The front view is even better,” he throws over his shoulder.

  I roll my eyes. This is gonna be a long under cover mission. I hope the Omega survives. Briefly, I contemplate turning him in to Terror. He’d keep him in the house or in the Omega compound now that the Collectors have gone and done their jobs. I reject the thought immediately. If I reached out to anyone, they’d pull me off and send someone else after the shooter.