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Stronger Than Words

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Paula Stokes

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“Rannik had drudged past the salvager's stall, took one look at her, and purchased her. And thank goodness for that bit of luck. Lassies were used as sexbots. Roughly used. . . . Her cheeks flamed as she recalled that awkward encounter. He, a rambunctious youth, had wanted to check under her carriage. She, a rampaging bitch, had slapped some decency into him. Now they got along smashingly. Just an average teenage boy with his secret alien companion.”

“£500.” He hisses furiously at me. “I can’t believe I’ve spent £500 on an entire new wardrobe and a new haircut – one that I didn’t even want my I add!” As he talks, I skip happily, a dreamy smile plastered all over my face. I’ve had, without a shadow of a doubt, the best day ever. “I can.” I answer, my voice rising several decibels, as I lose myself, currently, on cloud nine. “I’ve loved spending your money. It feels awesome!”

“Clenching my fists, his subsequent snore emphasises my suspicions. He has been sleeping on the job. I put my hands on my hips and glide over to him. I have one intent in mind. Picking up the book next to his elbow, I slam it down on the table. There are definitely some perks to being able to manipulate objects. Adam’s reaction is priceless. “W…w….what? W…where? W…why?” He stammers, blinking frantically. One hand flies to his heart, which he clutches dramatically and he raises his other to his forehead, wiping his brow. When he realises who has disturbed him and what I have done, he scowls at me. “Why did you do that?” He snaps, rubbing his eyes. He yawns at the end, meaning that I definitely can’t take him seriously. “I was enjoying that dream.” At hearing his answer, I roll my eyes. Part of me is tempted to interrogate him, to find what he was dreaming about exactly. The other rational and sensible part wins, meaning that I thrust the book in his direction, winding him considerably. He throws me a sharp glare, which ends in a grimace. The book juts sharply into his ribs. “You should be reading NOT sleeping!” I retort, making sure that the book digs harder into his chest. I give it one last push. “So get going.”

“By the look in this one’s eye, ’twas a simple matter to place him there, among the terrible, ruthless sorts. But somehow, she couldn’t believe something so…beautiful could be so awful. And he was beautiful, to a hard line, masculine magnificence, all long, lean contours of hard heat and piercing eyes. A beast in his prime. Her dark-eyed proteus looked over his shoulder, scowling when he saw she had not ‘come,’ was not ‘over there.’ “Sit,” he growled. “And stay.” A fissure of anger opened up inside her. She narrowed her eyes and, very softly, barked.”

“Why must you make things so difficult?" "Because I don't trust you," she said. "I'm never going to just do something simply because you asked, Doctor Facilier." He grabbed her wrist and turned her hand palm up. He slapped the vial into the center of her palm. "Every single dish, Tiana." She threw the vial directly at his face. He snatched it as if he had been expecting her to do just that. "I don't have to do anything," Tiana said. "I've held up my end of our bargain. You hold up yours.”

“One of the women shoved the door open the rest of the way, and they all stared at her, looking utterly indignant that another female had beaten them to the punch. "Why, that blue-eyed devil! He's with someone already!" "Warrington, you Beast! Oh, let us in, old man. We know he's in there!" "Mesdames!" Kate flung out sharply, unable to stand another moment of their intrusion. One hand on her hip, she lifted her chin and summoned up every ounce of elegant French hauteur that she had inherited from her mama. "His Grace is not at home," she clipped out. "Leave your cards, please, and I will make sure he receives your--- well-wishes," she finished cynically.”