The Falcon Prince by Karen Kelley

against saying anything more. What good would it do? No one believed her. She was really close to throwing a pity party when Kristor stepped into the backyard.
    All eyes turned toward him. Why not? He wore snug-fitting jeans and a maroon, button-down shirt. And boots. If he was a friggin’ alien, where the hell did he get the boots?
    “The hero,” Jamie called out, and everyone began to clap.
    “Hero, my ass,” she muttered and took another long drink. “It was a stupid football game.”
    Jamie took a step back, slapping his hand over his heart. “Wash your mouth out with soap, girl. You’re talking about football here.”
    She snorted. “Yeah, right. A bunch of men, most of them retired, trying to run a ball to the other end of a field. I don’t know about you, but it sounds kind of silly to me.”
    His eyebrows drew together. “You’re acting really strange. You know, they have doctors in Dallas who could probably help you.”
    She opened her mouth to tell him what she thought about everyone and their Dallas doctors, but a strong arm slipped around her waist and pulled her close. Her face jerked up. How the hell had he moved across the yard without her seeing him?
    Jamie nodded. “Ah, so that’s the way the wind blows.”
    She tried to move away from Kristor, but his hand on her waist effectively kept her at his side. She glared at him.
    “Y’all don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do.” Jamie grinned before he sauntered away.
    Great, now what kind of gossip would be spread about her? She looked up again at Kristor. “Would you please remove your hand from my waist?”
    He surprised her by doing as she requested. She only moved a few steps away from him, though. There was something about his body heat that soothed her. Oh, no, what did that mean? Suddenly nervous, she downed the rest of her beer, and went over to the tub and got another one, tossing her empty into the trash.
    Kristor watched her. There was something in the way he watched her, though. It was as though he physically touched her: caressing her cheek, sliding down her neck, cupping her breasts, moving sensuously downward. Her stomach muscles tightened. A slow burn began to build inside her.
    She brought the bottle to her lips and took a drink of the beer, grateful it had slivers of ice. It was all she could do to keep from running it over her face. When she met his gaze, there was a look in his eyes that said he knew the effect he had on her. Not that she cared.
    And she was not returning to where he stood because she liked him or anything. No, she wanted answers. She gathered her courage, raised her chin, and joined him under the oak tree.
    “How did you kick the football that far?” she asked.
    He casually leaned against the tree. “I kicked, then I willed it to go between the poles. Isn’t that what I was supposed to do—make it go between them? It seemed to please everyone.”
    “What do you mean, you willed it across?” The guy was getting stranger by the minute.
    “I concentrated on the ball, and where I wanted it to go.”
    “Like telekinesis? When someone moves an object with their mind.”
    “Only small objects for short distances on New Symtaria. Rogar said the atmosphere is slightly different here and makes Symtarian men’s powers stronger. Unusual. It’s women who have stronger powers where I come from.”
    She chugged another drink. It didn’t matter if he did move things with his mind, or that he was an alien, or that women had powers or not. No one would believe her. They only believed what they wanted.
    “Leave with me and you may also find you have powers.” He frowned. “Although Callie doesn’t have any.”
    “Who’s Callie?” She took another drink. She was starting to feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. And numb. She liked feeling numb.
    “She’s another impure. My brother brought her back after he finally convinced her she was part Symtarian.”
    Ria laughed. “Now I’m impure. Well, I never said I was