Excerpt

He traced his thumb against the scar emblazoned across his scrawny upper arm. Its mate was slashed over his other arm. Both were harsh reminders of the laser cuffs he’d borne the last twenty-eight years. Designed to drain his body of energy, the shackles had more than effectively done their job. He was truly now a shell of his former self. But if the authorities thought they had beaten him—taught him a lesson—they were sadly mistaken. All he needed was time to refill the well they’d sucked dry.

He closed his eyes and let the thrum of music and mindless acts of sex around him seep into his blood. It wasn’t the purest source of energy, but the only type accessible to him…for now. It built his system like a frozen mountain stream growing in velocity as it was warmed by the kiss of sun. Zantar had learned patience these long years. Two weeks of frequenting sex clubs such as this and he’d have enough energy to seek the more pure source his body craved.

Grunts of pleasure, the slap of body upon body surrounded him. Zantar snagged the dissipating energy and tugged it his way. A little here, a little there. Piece by piece. Drop by drop. Every little bit counted.

He felt the heat of another’s body near him. Flashing open his coal black eyes, he warned her away with a glare, then closed his eyes once more on a sigh when she eased away. A moment of fear escaped her. Zantar relished the new energy source and quickly absorbed it. When he was stronger, yes. He’d have her splayed before him begging for pleasure over and over again until she wept from the need for completion. Her fear, her frustration, would strengthen him.

Zantar allowed himself a smile at the thought of the power he’d wield over her. Oh, to have women kneel at his feet and beg for possession again. To know he controlled them completely. Once that power was achieved, he’d know total control of their very surroundings was only a breath away.

The memory of his omnipotence raced through his blood, warming him as nothing had during the cold, gray years of his imprisonment. Already his choice of a place to feed was paying off. A few more nights like this and…

A wave of energy pure and sweet slammed into Zantar’s chest. His heart skipped several beats. He gasped for breath as he clutched his gnarled fingers around the table edge before him. Pure will opened his eyes. He didn’t have to look far to see the source.

His gaze narrowed. Odd that he would see the person who’d caused his imprisonment here. The boy was now a man. The power he’d possessed as a child lingered untapped beneath the surface of his skin.

A waste, that’s what it is. Zantar should have drained him when he had the chance, then tossed him into a bottomless pit like all the others.

But the purity of youthful energy made him greedy. Instead of taking all he needed at once, Zantar took snippets, let it build, then took again. It was his downfall. And what had the boy, this man now entering the club, done with that gift? Nothing. Truly a waste.

But the beauty by his side was another matter. She wafted in on an aura of blue sparkled energy. Heads turned in wonder as she passed. Men and women watched her without realizing why they did so. The world was hers with a lift of her long, slender fingers. And Zantar could tell she had yet to realize the full power she possessed.