The Barbarian's Owned(4)

“You use the phrase ‘defense against extraterrestrial attack.’ As in… defending ourselves from E.T.?”

Rae bristled. “If E.T. is lobbing asteroids at our pale blue dot, sure. If my models are accurate—and, spoiler alert, they are—these extraterrestrials have already eradicated Earth’s dominant life forms once. That kind of radical, callous disregard for biodiversity is a sign we’re dealing with technologically advanced, morally degenerate beings.”

“Morally degenerate?” shouted someone in the crowd.

Rae turned and blinked. She ended up looking at a woman with close shorn hair, wearing a seafoam green pea coat. She seemed absurdly tall, even from her sitting position, and in spite of being visibly upset, she didn’t stand.

Tired of being interrupted, Rae stared the woman down. “What would you call destroying most of a planet’s biomass in one fell swoop?”

The woman huffed. “First of all, the asteroid maybe wasn’t launched to destroy your planet. It might’ve been there to seed portal technology so aliens could come here, portal technology that maybe turns on when you expose it to electromagnetic radiation, Ms. Smarty Pants!” She nibbled her lip nervously. “Uh, as a for-instance, I mean.”

“So the aliens missed?” Reese scoffed. “I’m not sure which of you is crazier!”

The tall woman jabbed a two-fingered point at Rae’s ex. “Have you ever fired a projectile from across the galaxy, you little suck worm?”

The male stranger made a gesture with his fingertips, which immediately shut up the tall woman. As though chastised, she sank further into her seat, and the huge man nearly cut Rae in half with a glare.

“Whatever the cause, watch your tongue. Humans have seen their share of moral degeneracy.”

“O-kay,” Rae murmured, wondering who let all the crazy people into her lecture.

Reese had spotted it too, and he scowled up at her. “Did you plant these people in the audience? This whole thing reeks of a publicity stunt. How much did you pay this washed-up, community college actor?”

“What?” she shouted. By now, murmurs had broken out through the audience and all semblance of professionalism had evaporated. The day—her great moment—blew away like dust in the wind.

“Why does it always have to be personal with you, Reese?” She realized it had always been this way. He’d treated dating her like he was doing her a favor—like she was this lonely flower who needed him.

The more she outperformed his mediocrity, the more she’d shattered that illusion, and the more scorned he’d become. She all of a sudden saw him, the real Reese, in how he grasped wildly for some way to undermine her work.

“Personal? Typical, hurt little girl,” he sneered. “Making it about our relationship and not the science.”

It was exactly the reverse, and having him turn it back on her obliterated her pity. She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind.

“Relationship?” boomed the enormous stranger. He glanced between Rae and her ex. “With this undeserving whelp?” He sucked in a breath, as though mortally offended, the first strong emotion she’d seen break the hard lines of his face.

“What chicanery could allow this creature to claim any female?” he muttered, casting a disdainful gesture at Reese.

Okay. Rae hadn’t hired him from a community college, but if she found out later he was an actor, maybe she’d hire him to wander in and mock all her exes.

Watching Conan belittle Reese was the sort of thing she’d have liked to scrapbook—that made her want to get into scrapbooking so she could scrapbook it.

But then, Conan took it a step further, marching for Reese. There were four rows of people and foldout chairs blocking his path, but his expression scattered the crowd and he kicked his way through chairs, fists tight in a way that made the fine hairs on Rae’s neck buzz with alarm.

Reese tried to shrink back a row. “Now, now.”

“I am Prime Garr domé Kaython and I challenge your claim to the golden-haired female on the dais.” He ripped a buckle from inside his kurta and tossed it onto the floor at Reese’s feet.

Reese had toed back as far as he could go. “Is this a prank? Is there a…” He glanced around. “Is there an anime convention nearby?”

The kurta now parted, revealing the stranger’s smooth muscular flesh beneath: it showed the hard ridge of his rib line and a torso built lean and powerful at once, like a cat.

“My primacy will be collateral. You are small. You may surrender without shame.” He glanced back at Rae. “Unless she prefers I break you.”