The Falcon Prince by Karen Kelley Page B

Ann had finally made her way over to him. Her long dark hair swinging free, the strands like hissing snakes, her eyes laughing up at him as her claws casually rested on his arm. Her hubby was busy talking to some of the men, quite impervious to her slutty behavior. Not that Ria cared.
    “Hey, pretty lady, dance with me,” Jessie said as he sidled up next to her.
    “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” Ria laughed, drained her beer, then tossed it toward the trash can, and almost made it, before wrapping her arms around his neck. His hold on her waist was loose and comfortable. She’d known Jessie most of her life, since his family had moved here from Henrietta, Texas. He was what people called “a good old boy.” She just hadn’t figured out what he was good for. That struck her as funny, so she laughed.
    “I think someone has had too much to drink,” Jessie said.
    She shook her head. “Not nearly enough.” To prove her point, she grabbed another beer as they danced past the tub.
    The song ended, and Donald slipped in where Jessie had once been. She blinked twice as her vision changed from slicked back hair and dime-store aftershave to a very polished GQ guy, with only a light scent of the finest men’s cologne.
    “You’re drunk,” Donald said, smiling wide and showing his pearly whites, except his words were as sharp as barbed wire. He moved her around the yard in some semblance of a two-step. His movements were stiff and jerky. The man had absolutely no rhythm.
    “Drunk? Not quite, but I’m getting there.” Honey dripped from the smile she cast in his direction.
    “You might think you’re funny, but you’re only making a spectacle of yourself. People talk about you enough as it is. You would think you’d at least attempt a lower profile.”
    She took another drink of beer, then belched like a sailor.
    He curled his lip.
    “I don’t give a damn if they talk about me,” she said.
    “Can I cut in?” Neil asked.
    Donald opened his mouth.
    “Yes,” she quickly spoke up, and moved smoothly into Neil’s arms, well, until she tripped over something in the yard. But Neil caught her before she fell. That made her laugh, too.
    Donald turned on his heel and was soon lost in the crowd. Good riddance. He’d always put a damper on her activities.
    “Are you having fun?” Neil asked.
    “The best ever.”
    “Uh…how’s Carly?”
    Even as looped as she was, she saw the spark of interest. “Why, Neil Jackson, are you sweet on my best friend?”
    He blushed. “I just heard she was sick. Thought I’d ask about her.”
    “She’s really sick.”
    His face fell. “So, she’s not coming tonight?”
    She shook her head and almost toppled over. He righted her. “Maybe no more beer,” she mumbled.
    “Carly?” he prodded.
    Her eyebrows drew together. “How long have you liked her?” And why had Ria never noticed?
    He gripped her a little tighter as they swayed to the music. “Since our freshman year. But she’s never looked twice at me. The guys she usually goes out with are jerks. Why does she do that?”
    “Maybe you should let her know how you feel. Then she might stop dating losers.”
    “Could you sort of test the waters?”
    What was she now? A matchmaker. That is, besides being an alien. Correction: part alien. She frowned. “Does my skin tone look a little green to you?”
    He held her at arm’s length. “You’re not about to toss your cookies, are you?”
    “No.”
    “Good.” He drew her back a little. “And you don’t look green, either.”
    “Do I have anything poking out the top of my head?”
    He examined the top of her head. “Like what?”
    “Antennae.”
    “Why? Are you thinking about become a human transmitter?”
    “No.” She hadn’t really thought she was part alien.
    He suddenly smiled. “I bought some blue body paint a number of Halloweens ago. I thought I might look cool if I dressed like one of those blue guys that perform out in Las Vegas. Didn’t