Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2

by Danes, Willow

  “Implant? Wait, what the fuck have you done to me?”

  “I did not do anything to you. A nano-translator has been attached to the language center of your brain.”

  “You—God, why?”

  His brow creased. “So that you are able to understand me now.”

  Hope glanced at the silver instrument. “That’s what you were trying to do before? Implant me with something that would let us understand each other?”

  “I could already understand you,” he corrected. “But you could not understand me.”

  Damn, that was disorienting! Hearing growls, hearing words at the same time . . .

  “What else does it do?” she demanded. “Does it tell you what I’m thinking?”

  “That would be very useful.” He put the instrument down. “But I do not possess that technology. This implant provides translation only.”

  “Will it—” She glanced at the cylinder. “Is there any danger to me having it? I mean, will it hurt me?”

  “No, but it is just as well I placed it while you were unconscious. Apparently humans find the implantation unusually painful.”

  “Humans—?” Her glance darted about seeking signs of other, past captives. “You’ve done this before? To other women?”

  “No. Just you.”

  His tone was mild but Hope gritted her teeth. “Well, I’m honored.”

  His rippled brow furrowed. “I do not think you mean that.”

  “Look,” Hope began, forcing her tone to evenness against the terror of being strapped down, “I can understand you now.” She pulled against the restraints. “So now you can take these off me.”

  His gaze narrowed. “I am a g’hir warrior. I have been trained to defend myself and in doing so I may injure you. I cannot allow you to attack me.” He shut off the bright lights over the table and the room’s illumination fell to a far more comfortable level. He folded his massive arms. “You will promise not to.”

  “Attack you? You attacked me! You have me strapped down like—like a—”

  But she couldn’t think of anything known for getting strapped down a lot and the frustration and fear and medical smells were choking her. Hope clenched her hands into fists and turned her face away from him, mortified at dissolving into helpless tears.

  Her sobs echoed in the room and the alien growled something under his breath that her brand new brain implant didn’t catch. The straps holding her prisoner slackened. As soon as he released the restraints she sat up and brought her knees to her chest, too shaky to attempt getting down off the table. Hope wiped her tears away but more just kept coming and she couldn’t seem to stop.

  His alien gaze was puzzled. “Why are your eyes watering like that?”

  “It’s called ‘crying,’” she hiccupped, wiping impatiently at her face with the back of her hand.

  “I know what it is called. They told me humans did that.”

  “You mean you never cry?”

  “My eyes will water when they are irritated. But why are you doing the crying now?” His glowing glance swept over her. “And why so much?”

  “Are you kidding? Why the hell do you think?”

  He gave a frustrated huff. “A human’s eyes water when they are in pain, frightened, unhappy.”

  Hope pushed her hair back. She hated to cry, especially in front of anyone. Her nose got all swollen and her face got blotchy, and between that and her freckles and her wild red hair it was never a good look.

  “Yeah,” she agreed, sniffling. “I’d say that about sums up where I am right now.”

  “I have run two complete medical scans on you,” the alien growled. “The damage to your hands when you fell in the woods was superficial. I have already treated those scrapes. The furred creature did not injure you. I did not injure you. I found no other illness or physical damage.” His frown deepened. “You should not be in pain. There is nothing to be afraid of here. No reason for you to be unhappy.”

  “No reason to be unhappy?” she exclaimed, a hot burst of anger giving her the strength to push herself off the table to stand. “How about almost being attacked by a wild animal, then shot and kidnapped by an alien, then knocked out again by that alien, then finding myself strapped down and a fucking chip in my brain? Any of those reasons going to work for you?”

  “But your eyes were watering—you were crying—in the forest, before the animal attacked, before you had even seen me. Why were you crying then?”

  Hope’s breath caught. With all that had happened she’d forgotten about Brian’s desertion, about him and Megan screwing for months behind her back, how with a couple texts the beautiful future she’d dreamed had been smashed into a million tiny humiliating pieces.

  She found herself twisting the engagement ring on her finger. “Someone—hurt me. He hurt me very badly.”

  “The human male whose scent lingers on that jewel? He hurt you?”

  “Lingers on—? Wait, you can smell Brian? On my ring? But I haven’t even seen him since Wednesday night and—I mean, I’ve showered, washed my hands dozens of times—”

  The alien caught her hand gently in his and brought her palm to his face, her ring just under his nose. He sniffed. “The scent is faint, but detectable.”

  “Then your sense of smell is . . .” She could hardly think of a word. “Amazing.”

  “How?” he rumbled, looking down at her, her hand cradled in his. “How did he hurt you, little one?”

  Hope ducked her head. Little one? At five-eleven she hadn’t been little to anyone since kindergarten.

  “We were going to get married but now we’re not going to, ’cause . . . he was unfaithful.”

  “Unfaithful?”

  Hope shut her eyes for a moment. “He’s with someone else.”

  He looked blank. “With?”

  “Yeah, you’re right, why mince words? He’s been fucking another woman. For all I know he’s fucking Megan right now. She’s—was one of my best friends actually.”

  “But why?”

  “I guess—” A lump formed in her throat. “I guess because he likes her better than he liked me. Because she’s sexier, prettier, than I am.”

  The alien’s fingers went under her chin to gently tilt her face up. He studied her for a few moments, her face, her body.

  “I do not believe that is possible,” he said finally.

  He sounded completely serious and tears stung her eyes again.

  “Thank you,” she said thickly. “That was . . . that was really a nice thing to say.”

  “I am not being ‘nice.’ I evaluated a number of human females for capture in the time I spent on your world. I cannot imagine a female more desirable than you are.”

  Hope dropped her gaze and withdrew her fingers from his hold. “Yeah, well, thanks . . .” she mumbled.

  “You are not looking at me now. You were looking at me before.” His brow creased. “I have offended you.”

  “No.” Hope was surprised that after kidnapping her and restraining her twice he would even care about that, but he sure sounded like he did. “Of course not.”

  “It was not my intention to offend.”

  “You didn’t,” she insisted. “Really.”

  He didn’t look as if he believed her but apparently decided to let it go. His gaze went to the crown of her head.

  “I have never seen hair like this before.” He reached out and clasped a curl in front of her eyes between his thumb and forefinger to pull it straight then let it go. “Does it always do that?”

  “Whether I want it to or not,” she muttered.

  The alien pulled then let the curl go, looking delighted at the way it bounced up. “Why would you not want it to? It is a joy.”

  “Yeah, everyone in my first grade class called me ‘Little Orphan Annie’ for a solid year but, hey, I’m glad it makes you happy,” she grumbled as he pulled the curl and let it go again. “And maybe you could stop that now?”

  He complied with a nod and it occurred to
her that it was the first time he’d done that instead of the chin jerk. He’d mimicked her human mannerism but it was oddly comforting that he had.

  His full mouth curved as his fingers lightly brushed the curve of her cheek, smoothing away the last dampness from her tears. “I do not even know what you are called, little one.”

  “You mean my name? It’s, uh, Hope.”

  “Hope,” he rumbled from deep in his chest and his glowing green eyes softened. “It is a perfect namesound for you. Hope.”

  The warm way he said her name, the vibration rolling like thunder through her center, the sudden awareness of how amazing he smelled and the remembered feel of his mouth, hot on hers, made her cheeks burn.

  She cleared her throat. “What about you? What’s your name?”

  He put his palm over his heart and bent his head to her as he spoke it.

  “Rrr’harrr?” she echoed. It was a pale imitation of the low heavy growl he’d used to utter his name but he looked pleased by her attempt. “Okay, R’har. What are you? I mean, species-wise, since you already know I’m human.”

  “I am g’hir.”

  “Grah-here?” she ventured, trying to swallow back the first syllable and roll the r’s in the second like he had. She did a lousy job of it too but it was as close as she was likely to come. “That’s your species?”

  He gave another human-style nod. “And my people. My world is called Hir.”

  “Nice to know.” Hope folded her arms. “So . . . any chance you want to tell me why you’ve kidnapped me, R’har?”

  He grinned, all white teeth, fangs, and glowing eyes. “To prove myself worthy.”

  “Okay,” Hope said after a long moment when he didn’t elaborate. “Worthy to who?”

  He gave a short, surprised huff. “To you, Hope.”

  “To me?” she echoed. “Okay, again—why?”

  “So you would choose me.”

  “Choose you?” Hope’s brow creased. “Choose you for what?”

  “To mate with.”

  She blinked up at him.

  “You know,” Hope finally got out, “you see those tabloid stories about women abducted by aliens for sex but, somehow, you always think it’s gonna be the other girl.”

  “You must not think that now, little one,” he assured, his glowing gaze very serious. “There will be no others. Only you.”

  “I didn’t mean—!” Hope passed her hand over her eyes. “Okay, one, I was joking and two, we need to take a step—no, a whole freaking lot of steps—back here. Why in hell would you think—” Hope’s head came up. “Wait, is that what happened to that other girl, Jenny? Some alien carried her off to be his girlfriend?”

  “If you are speaking of Jenna, mate of Ra’kur—yes. I have met her. Jenna is a gracious, well-bred female. She is very happy,” he offered, “living at Ra’kur’s enclosure.”

  “And that’s why you’re on Earth?”

  “To hunt a mate.” He gave a human nod. “Yes.”

  “Hunt a—? That’s what you ali—uh, g’hir, do? You came here to hunt women?”

  “Not all women.” His brow creased. “Just one. Just you.”

  She cleared her throat again. “Look, I hate to point out the obvious but you, well . . . you’re not human.”

  “No,” he agreed.

  “And I . . . am.”

  He gave a nod. “Yes.”

  So not getting through here . . .

  “I just mean—” Hope shifted her weight. “I don’t see how that would work out. With you being g’hir and me being human. You know, for a relationship.”

  “G’hir and humans are very sexually compatible.”

  Her glance flicked over him, the broad shoulders and slim hips, the way the leather clung to his muscular thighs, even as she beat back the searing memory of how close she’d been to coming from just that rumble-purr of his—

  Hope cleared her throat. “I probably shouldn’t ask you how you know that.”

  “I do not,” he growled. “I am only the second warrior to claim a human mate; Ra’kur was the first. I nearly returned home in despair, resigned to live my life out alone. But then Goddess led me to you.” His warm broad hand cupped her cheek. “My mate, my Hope.”

  The thing of it was he looked so damn sincere with those glowing eyes of his and as whacked as it was she really didn’t want to hurt him. Luckily she had the ace of all aces right on her ring finger, one that not only allowed her to let a man down super easy in many a Georgetown bar but with the power to win a resigned smile from the drunkest guy—even on Saint Patrick’s Day.

  “It’s not you.” She gently took his hand from her cheek and flashed her diamond ring. “I’m engaged to marry someone else.”

  “No longer.” R’har gave the jewelry a dismissive glance. “He is fucking another female now.”

  Hope shut her eyes briefly. “You know, you could said that a little more tactfully.”

  “But that is what you said! You said he is fucking—”

  “Yes! I know!” she flared. “Yes, I know what he’s doing, who he’s doing it to, and how much the sheets he’s doing it on cost, okay?”

  “Yes.” He gave a chin jerk, his eyes a little wide from her outburst.

  “Good,” she gritted out.

  “If he had not bonded to another female,” R’har offered after a moment, “I would have killed him.”

  Hope’s gaze snapped to him. “What?”

  “Killed him,” he repeated, then at her stare added helpfully, “To take you from him.”

  “That’s what your—g’hir—do? You kill each other over women?”

  “For a warrior to be so determined to take a female from another is a compliment to his mate, a great tribute to her value.” He searched her face. “Are you not taking it that way, Hope?”

  “Actually right now I would characterize myself as ‘creeped out.’”

  “I do not think that expression translates well,” R’har said slowly. “What I am hearing is ‘deeply disturbed by.’”

  “Yeah.”

  R’har’s head reared back. “You find me disturbing?”

  “When you think it’s fine and dandy to show up on someone else’s planet and just kidnap a woman? Yeah, I’d log that under ‘creepy.’ I mean, what if it were a g’hir woman we were talking about, instead of a human?”

  “A g’hir female longs to be captured by a strong mate, to have the male who takes her be clever, capable, determined,” he replied a little sharply. “I am the son of a clanfather. A g’hir female would be honored by what I have done, flattered by my actions.”

  Hope put her hands on her hips. “Then it’s too bad you didn’t get yourself a g’hir woman instead!”

  A wounded look flashed in his eyes, and then his expression cooled. “Perhaps you are right.”

  He turned away and stalked with his catlike movements toward the room’s exit.

  “Oh, so now you’re just going to walk”—the door slid closed behind him—“out?” Hope finished.

  With a burst of energy she was across the room, ready to pound on the door, howl curses at him for leaving her locked in here of all places, but the door slid open for her too.

  Oh sure, now the fucking thing works!

  She caught sight of R’har at the end of the corridor and plunged into the hallway after him.

  “Hey!” she called. “We were in the middle of a conversation back there! Or don’t g’hir have any manners?”

  He stopped to look round at her, his nostrils flared. “We are a very civilized people!”

  “Yeah, I could tell by the handcuffs,” Hope snapped as she caught up to him. “I’d like to leave now, if you don’t mind. You know, since you’re such a gentleman alien.”

  His fangs flashed for an instant, then he bent his head to her. “As you please,” he growled, then turned on his heel and headed for the door at the end of the corridor.

  “Yeah, well, maybe you could show me the way—”

  The d
oor slid shut behind him.

  “Damn it!” she gritted out, already following. She waved her hand around at what she thought was the motion detector but, wherever it was, at least this door slid open for her too.

  He was halfway to the next one and she jogged to catch up to him.

  “I said, I want to leave!”

  “I heard you,” he snarled, not even pausing in the entryway.

  “Well?” she demanded, following him inside. “Are you going to—”

  She recognized the equipment here, the four chairs and the control panel, the windows to the outside, but—

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Hope gripped the headrest of the nearest chair, taking in blackness out there, the endless star-filled vista visible through the cockpit window. “When did the fuck did we leave Earth?”

  Four

  “You are very heated in your speech,” R’har grumbled, taking the pilot’s seat. “Is this common in human females?”

  “Among human females who drive the Capital Beltway? I’d say I’m about average,” Hope snapped. “And where the hell are we?”

  He glanced out the cockpit window at the slowly spinning green planet visible there. “Tenth sector. The Olari system.”

  Okay, trying not to panic here . . .

  She looked at R’har. “We’re really in space?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re in space.”

  “Yes.” He frowned. “Your spots have darkened.”

  Hope used her grip on the seat to stay upright. “I think that’s just my face going paler in comparison. And they aren’t ‘spots,’ they’re freckles.”

  His bright glance ran over her. “Why do you not have them everywhere?”

  “Well, actually the sun—Hey!” she exclaimed, scowling. “How did you know I don’t have them everywhere?”

  His fangs flashed in a quick smile. “I did not—until now.” His bright eyes trailed her form again, slower this time, his growl becoming a little huskier. “What does the skin without the freckles look like?”

  Hope’s gaze fell on the fullness of his mouth and his glowing gaze met hers. “When—?” she began weakly. Hope cleared her throat and indicated the stars beyond. “When did we leave Earth, R’har? When did we go into space?”