Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2

by Danes, Willow

  Fog blanketed the woods surrounding the cabin and gave the mountains a peaceful, otherworldly air. Hope wrapped her hands around the cup’s warmth and hunkered down, holding the teacup against the frozen lump where her heart used to be.

  From Dolly’s helmet hair and polyester clothes Hope wouldn’t have expected the woman to own such a beautiful, well-appointed cabin, but this place was even better than the pictures. Three bedrooms—all with king-sized beds—a two-story windowed living room with stone fireplace, gourmet kitchen, hot tub; the place just rocked.

  Maybe I’ll just stay here. Use my severance to rent the cabin out for the whole summer and learn how to fish or make preserves or even do some real art again. Maybe by September I’ll have some clue what the hell I’m going to do with myself.

  Brian was just the latest in a lifetime of crap taste in men but she had good luck with vacation spots, at least. This place was just perfect for a girls’ weekend away. Good place to talk and unwind, to make cocktails and stuff save-the-date envelopes, to strategize about the wedding with her two best friends, it was even nice enough for a honeymo—

  “How about a walk,” she muttered.

  Hope put down her untouched tea, the steam curling above the delicate blue and white patterned china cup, and yanked her sweater tighter.

  The polished wood rail was smooth and cool under her hand as she headed down the cabin stairs. The ground was soft after last night’s rain, her footsteps silenced by the dampness as she headed into the woods. North Carolina pines towered over her head and the mountain air smelled richly of growing things.

  Yep, this is better.

  A mourning dove’s plaintive coo sounded through the trees. Hope quickened her pace, letting the cabin and the mess that was her life vanish into the fog. In no time she was enveloped by cool, clean forest with all the hurt and heartache and pain left far behind.

  I’ll walk for a while then head back and drink my tea. I’ll make pancakes for breakfast and I won’t think about—

  Hope broke into a trot, determined to outpace all those memories, all those nagging feelings insisting that something wasn’t right, all those red flags waving right in her face.

  Like the tiny tuck of smugness at the corner of Megan’s pink mouth whenever she saw Brian. How Brian was always suggesting she invite Megan to join them for drinks or dinner when it really should have been just the two of them alone. How he was a bit too proprietary with Megan, a bit too suspicious of her dates, how he always insisted on walking Megan to her car after dinner, his hand at the small of her back—

  Hope stumbled, catching the front of her boot on an exposed tree root in her hurry, and fell hard, scraping her palms.

  Her knees and hands throbbed as she knelt there, her head hanging, a wail rising from her chest to stick and catch in her throat before it finally broke.

  “Never again,” she sobbed to the solid silence of the mountain beneath her. “Will never be so fucking . . . stupid again . . .”

  She stayed like that, her red curls blocking her vision, tendrils sticking to her face, the space around her enveloped by fog, her weeping the only sound in the little clearing.

  Finally, wrung out and trembling, Hope slumped back to sit on the damp ground. She brushed her hands onto her jeans to get the dirt off and then wiped at her wet face.

  I should have known. I did know. Give me a room full of men and I’ll pick the first lying, cheating, son of a—

  The soft crunch of a nearby footfall brought her head up.

  Out of the grey mist dark shapes moved toward her and Hope froze as they took on recognizable forms.

  Oh my God!

  No more than ten feet away now and already well into the little clearing where she sat, the large black bear swung its head in her direction. At the same moment, Hope spied two young bears toddling behind their mother.

  A mama bear with cubs.

  Hope had grown up within walking distance of the metro’s Red Line but even she knew you stayed the hell away from a mother bear and her cubs.

  The fur on either side of the big bear’s snout was a light tan and the black fur of her body gleamed darkly in the fog’s muted light. The sow sniffed at the air and her inky eyes locked with Hope’s.

  Hope’s fingers clenched, digging into the damp earth at her sides as the bear lumbered closer. The bear’s claws gleamed against her black fur—white, long, deadly.

  The bear paused, her wet nose twitching, then suddenly slapped her feet on the ground in challenge. The sow made a loud huffing noise, somewhere between a moan and a growl, her eyes fixed on Hope.

  An angry mama bear with cubs!

  Hope whimpered and risked a darting glance around where she sat. There wasn’t even a branch or a rock nearby to grab. She’d left her cell back at the cabin. Even if she could shield herself from the bear long enough, she couldn’t call anyone for help. Like an idiot she’d just blundered blindly into the woods; she didn’t even know which direction the cabin was from here!

  The bear huffed, clacking its teeth.

  What the fuck am I supposed to do? I can’t remember what I’m supposed to do! Play dead? Run? Climb a tree?

  A scream tore from Hope’s throat as the bear charged—

  A huge snarling blur shot past her to throw itself against the bear. Hope scrambled backwards as the force of the man’s impact knocked the bear off its feet, his powerful arms wrapped around the sow’s neck to wrench it away from her. Then the two—bear and man—went tumbling, rolling over, the bear moaning, her cubs making high-pitched cries as they pawed at the ground.

  The big bear gripped at the ground with her claws and gave a sharp shake of her powerful body to throw the man off. He twisted in the air, nimble as a cat, to land in front of Hope in a crouch, his back to her and balanced on the balls of his feet.

  The sow swiped at him and the muscles of his broad back tensed as he dodged the bear’s claws.

  The man growled and a chill ran up Hope’s back as the sound rose to an inhuman snarl. The bear’s large head reared back at his roar, her black fur rippling in alarm as the sow backed up toward her cubs.

  He angled his body to stay protectively in front of Hope even as the bear nudged her cubs and fled with them, the three lumbering over the crest of the hill to disappear into the mist.

  His broad back still toward her, the man stood, showing himself ungodly tall—six feet seven or eight inches at least. His clothes looked to be brown leather and they had the oddest look to them—as if they had been wrapped around him—but Hope wasn’t much for the outdoor life. For all she knew, all hunters were dressing like that now, and this guy must spend most of his time outside; his skin was very tan for a blond.

  His golden hair, long and gathered at the nape of his neck, had picked up a few pine needles and a tiny leaf during his tussle with the bear. He kept his attention fixed on the spot where the bears had vanished and shifted his weight restlessly in those big boots of his, his broad hand flexing beside the gun holstered at his hip.

  “Thank you!” Still sprawled out, her jeans cold and damp from sitting on the ground, Hope pressed her hand to her chest, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. “Thank you so much! God, if you hadn’t been here that bear wou—”

  The man turned toward her and Hope broke off, her mouth parting in horror.

  For a moment, all she could do was stare up at those glowing, green eyes. His eerie gaze bored down at her from beneath thick blond brows; his brow bone was heavy and his forehead bore inhuman raised ridges.

  “You’re—” she gasped. “You’re not—”

  His full lips drew back, his fangs flashing, terrifyingly sharp even in the faint light. Hope screamed, her hands flying to her ears to block the earsplitting sound of his roar.

  Still screaming, Hope twisted to push off with her hands, propelling herself forward and onto her feet. His movements were a blur and she managed only a few stumbling steps before she stopped short, he in front of her. Instinctively she sp
un to flee in the other direction, choking into petrified silence at seeing him in front of her again, cutting off her escape.

  Fucking nobody moves that fast! No human can!

  Hope shook her head, her hands held out to hold him off, backing away as he drew his weapon, his snarl rising to another roar.

  But he’s not—!

  It was the last thought she had before he shot her.

  Two

  Hope stirred, wincing against the ache in her head.

  Where—?

  The light was dim, the familiar feel of a mattress and pillow beneath her. The room was very quiet, the bed big and soft, the air touched by the warm, comforting scent of cinnamon.

  Oh, right, the cabin in North Carolina.

  After the long day of driving and heartache it was no wonder she had headed upstairs and fallen right to sleep in this comfy bed.

  But . . .

  She remembered being out on the cabin’s porch, seeing the mist curling through mountains, the warmth of that pretty blue and white china cup in her hand, steam rising from the milky tea—

  And this sure didn’t look anything like the inside of a vacation cabin. The walls were smooth, smoky colored, not rough wood like that rental.

  Where the hell am I?

  Her arms felt funny, too heavy, but it wasn’t until she tried to sit up that she realized she was handcuffed.

  She stared in astonishment at the bindings holding her wrists and panic slammed into her chest at the realization that she wasn’t alone in that room.

  The same man—that same creature from the woods with the inhuman face—stood there, just beside the doorway, his back to the wall, so unnaturally still that at first she hadn’t noticed him. His eyes glowed in the room’s dim light and he was every bit as alien and dangerous looking now as he had been in the woods.

  Something about his stance told her he’d been standing there for a while, watching her.

  That guy in the diner—the crazy ex-sheriff—raving about an alien carrying off that girl—

  The alien’s lips drew back to reveal his fangs. His low snarl sent a jolt of adrenaline through her veins that instantly cleared the muddiness from her brain.

  Gasping, made clumsy by her bindings and whatever he’d knocked her out with, Hope threw herself toward the other side of the bed, rolled and staggered to her feet, putting the big bed between them.

  “Oh my God, you’re not—” It may have been the most obvious, possibly even the stupidest fucking thing in the world to say, but she simply couldn’t stop herself. “You’re not human!”

  As suddenly as the bear had charged, the alien was around the bed reaching for her. Hope, still lightheaded, backpedaled from his grasp so fast she lost her footing. With her hands cuffed Hope couldn’t break her fall and she cried out, landing hard on her backside.

  He made another grab for her and she scrambled back, whimpering, to curl into a terrified ball in the corner of the room.

  “Don’t hurt me!” Hope pressed herself back against the cold walls. “Oh, God, please don’t hurt me!”

  He towered over her, his square-jawed face half in shadow, his glowing green eyes fixed on hers, holding so still he didn’t even seem to be breathing. Hope’s lips trembled as she craned her neck, forced by his great height to look up at him.

  Then in a move that left Hope blinking, he knelt.

  He stayed like that, a few feet away from her, his legs folded under him, his hands resting lightly on his thighs. He bent his head, silently gazing up at her from under his heavy blond brows.

  This isn’t happening! This can’t be happening!

  Because the alternative was she was actually looking at an intelligent being who not only wasn’t human but who was looking right back at her.

  Maybe I’m crazy, a breakdown or something from the stress. Any minute a doctor or nurse will show up and say that no, of course there isn’t a huge, blond alien right there!

  But wondering if she was crazy probably meant that she wasn’t.

  He was less terrifying this way, certainly, this alien creature, without all that bulk looming over her. They were nearly at eye level this way, although even kneeling he was still taller.

  As time stretched on and he didn’t lunge at her, his gaze steady and his fangs not showing, Hope’s racing heart started to slow down a little.

  She’d been pulling against the cuffs blindly, trying to work herself free, and now she risked a glance down at them. Her bindings felt slightly warm and appeared to be completely smooth metal, as if they had been custom formed to her wrists. Attached by a thick cord between them, there was no catch or hinge she could see. The cuffs were so fitted she couldn’t twist them on her skin either.

  The alien hadn’t moved. Still kneeling, he regarded her with his steady, luminescent gaze. Hope wet her lips, her glance darting around the room. She couldn’t remember a damn thing after he leveled the stun gun—or whatever it was—at her but it was pretty obvious he was the one who’d brought her here.

  A lifetime of striving not to come off as the stereotypical redhead, of forcing herself to calm, clear thinking, served her well. Hope was proud that she managed a couple of really useful thoughts.

  Okay, I’m handcuffed but I’m not helpless. I’ve got a brain and a mouth and eyes. I’ll find out whatever I can and I’ll go from there.

  “Where am I?” she demanded. “Why did you bring me here?”

  The alien’s head came up. He growled again, but softly this time, and odd to think it but those seemed like gentle, even reassuring, sounds rumbling from his throat.

  But however he meant them, those growls sure weren’t shining any light on her situation.

  “Um.” Hope cleared her throat. “Can you talk?”

  He leaned forward, reaching for her again, and she flinched away. He stopped short, his hand still outstretched, his rippled brow creased. After a moment he eased his weight back and took up his former nonthreatening posture, his hands resting on his thighs again.

  Holding her gaze with his brilliant eyes, he growled in that soothing way. The tones of his rumbles rose and fell, each melding so completely into the next she couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be one long snarl or a bunch of short snarls, one after the other.

  “Wait, is that what you’re doing?” Hope asked, eyeing him warily in case all that pleasant rumbling was intended to distract her from a new attack. “Are you—are you talking right now?”

  He was watching her mouth as she spoke. When she stopped he met her gaze again and jerked his chin toward her.

  What the hell does that mean?

  Hope shifted her weight. Her butt and back hurt from her fall and her shoulders ached with tension. “Is that how you talk? Those growls?”

  He jerked his chin toward her again.

  His way of nodding, maybe?

  “Okay,” Hope muttered. “I’m going to say that’s a yes.”

  The alien tilted his head, the soft light making his hair a halo of gold, but he didn’t try to grab at her again and Hope risked another glance around the room. A bedroom, obviously, and something about the items, how they lay in their places as if put down a bit carelessly, bespoke of an occupied, lived-in place.

  His.

  She suddenly wondered just how long she had been lying there on his bed, how long he had been watching her sleep, why he’d dragged her here at all . . .

  “Did you bring me here to”—she swallowed back the word kill—“to hurt me?”

  His eyes widened and he instantly gave a sharp snarl that couldn’t be anything other than a no.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she allowed finally. “But I actually believe you.” She chewed her lip for a moment. “There was another girl—I don’t remember her name—Jenny, maybe? Did you take her too?”

  Hope was rewarded with a sharp headshake, his golden hair catching the light at the movement. Back at the diner that nutso—well, as it turned out, not so nutso—ex-sheriff said Jenny ha
d been carried off by a black-haired creature with demon eyes.

  And my demon-eyed creature is definitely blond.

  If the ex-sheriff saw Jenny carried off into the woods and it hadn’t been this alien who’d taken the other girl, then it stood to reason that another of his kind had.

  Hope’s hands clenched. Was this an invasion? Or just random kidnappings?

  She wet her lips and glanced toward the smooth, fitted door. Was this a spaceship then? If that girl, Jenny, was here too—wherever here was—she might have some idea what was going on.

  “But Jenny—Is she here?”

  He gave another growl but no chin jerk. From his tone she thought that was also definitely a no.

  “Is there anybody else here?” she asked, then added hopefully, “Anyone who speaks English?”

  Another shake of that blond head.

  Okay, I’ve been abducted and handcuffed by a growling, snarling creature who doesn’t speak English any more than I speak “Growl” but he seems to be able to understand me at least.

  Hope shifted again and her engagement ring caught the light.

  And you know it’s been a bad week when being kidnapped by a huge, fanged alien isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to you . . .

  She raised her arms, holding out her manacled wrists a little. “Did you do this to me?”

  With a sudden flash of white, squared-off teeth and wicked-looking fangs the alien gave a boyish, proud grin.

  The change was astonishing. His smile was warm, his alien eyes alight with intelligence and mischievous good humor—

  Hope gave herself a mental slap.

  Worst taste in men. Ever.

  “Well then, think you could take them off me now?”

  He watched her mouth again.

  “Oooofffff,” he growled.

  Progress! Hope extended her hands toward him. “Yes, off. I’d really like you to take these cuffs off.”

  Unexpectedly the alien pushed himself up to stand and Hope straightened to peer over the bed, watching as he crossed to the other side of the room. He had his back to her so she couldn’t see what he was doing but she heard the clink of glassware, the scrape of metal.