“Is it the pain?” His brow furrowed. “Is that why your eyes water now?”
“Sorry, I’m having kind of an up and down week,” she said, laughing a little. It’s not my fault! I have a genetic mutation and it’s not my fault! “But it’s okay, really. Happy tears.”
R’har was still frowning. “I promise your pain medication will be adjusted to the needed dose.” His long fingers brushed at the wetness on her cheek. “I give you my word you will never suffer as you have in the past.”
“Okay,” she said but couldn’t help bracing herself.
“I will begin now.” He hesitated, his gaze searching. “If you will trust me?”
“Yeah,” Hope said, letting her eyes close again briefly, letting her hands unclench again. “I do.”
Fifteen
Hope fought the urge to rub her newly healed shoulder. The medcomp’s treatment had been a cakewalk, not just pain free—for once!—but with R’har’s soothing growls and explanation of what was going to happen before the med comp did it, almost anxiety free.
Her shoulder didn’t hurt now exactly; it just felt sore, as if she’d spent the day at the gym doing side raises or something. Still, massaging it might help . . .
She glanced at R’har. One tiny indication that everything wasn’t sunshine and rainbows and he’d have her right back in that thing. And she had gotten to know g’hir facial expressions a whole lot better since he’d captured her
“So how long?” she asked.
His bright gaze, puzzled now, met hers. “How long for what, little one?”
“Till that Zerar warship figures out they should be looking on Olari for us.”
His shoulders fell. “I thought—”
“What? That I’d forgotten about them? That maybe they forgot about us?”
“That perhaps I could shield you,” he said with a sigh.
Hope folded her arms. “From what? Reality?”
“From . . .” He gave a frustrated huff. “You should even now be safely within the borders of the Yir enclosure—not here on this abandoned colony with a warship lurking above! It is my task, my duty, to keep you safe and I—”
“You didn’t put me in danger. They—the Zerar—did. That’s why we’re here.”
R’har’s hands clenched. “You should not be here,” he growled quietly.
Hope indicated the sleeping quarters with a glance. “What now? Are we going to stay here till we’re rescued?”
His gaze met hers and she had her answer.
“No,” she said for him, and passed her hand over her eyes. “Because if the Zerar do look for us, staying with the ship is the best way to get captured.”
“We must gather supplies from the ship and forest,” he rumbled. “It is the safest way.”
“Forest—as in wander from place to place and sleep in a tent?”
“G’hir have an instinct to travel,” he said, sounding a bit surprised that she wasn’t jumping at the chance. “We find it very pleasant.”
“Yeah,” she muttered. “You know what humans enjoy? Houses. With hot running water. And beds. You know why I booked that three-bedroom-with-Jacuzzi-and-gourmet-kitchen cabin, R’har? Because I hate camping. I also happen to suck at it.”
“I will make a sleeping place for us under the stars and though I am new to mating I promise I will do all I can”—R’har gave a slow smile that made her center tighten—“to see you enjoy it.”
Then, suddenly, she caught what he’d said.
“Wait—What do you mean you’re new at it? You don’t mean new new?”
His glowing eyes blinked.
“As in—” Hope got out. “This morning with me . . . that was your first time? Ever?”
His cheeks flushed. “I have brought myself to release.”
“No not—I mean, with a woman—I’m your first?”
“Of course,” he said, surprised.
Because most of the g’hir women are dead!
“I, uh—” Hope swallowed hard. “I guess I just wasn’t thinking.”
“They told me it was likely you would have had other lovers before me,” he growled quietly.
It troubled him, she could see that, and in a heartrending flash she wished he’d been her first too.
“I promise to improve my skills,” he assured, his brow knitted. “I can scent your heat, detect the changes in your breathing when you are highly aroused. With practice I will learn to please you better.”
“Is that what you’re—?” Hope gave a short disbelieving laugh. “Oh, believe me. You have nothing to worry about on that account. R’har you are the absolute best I’ve ever had.”
His face lit up then, his fangs flashing in a proud grin that just had her heart melting.
“And not that you need it but I sure don’t mind,” she continued, sliding her arms around his waist, “letting you get in some extra practice . . .”
His gaze heated then he gave a rueful smile. “When we are safely forested,” he promised, brushing his nose against hers in a light g’hir’s kiss, “I will make good on my promise to pleasure you greatly.”
“Holy cow,” Hope breathed when she got her first full look at the destruction the crash had wrought from the outside.
“It was a good landing,” R’har rumbled, looking down from their hillside perch at the wreck below.
“A good landing?” she echoed. Half the ship was crushed and the path of destruction they’d left in the landscape during the crash could have taken out two city blocks.
“The ship did not explode on entry,” he offered. “I have never heard of a ship that attempted to jump into an atmosphere that did not. But better to die quickly than let us be taken by the Zerar. The suffering they would have inflicted on you—” He swallowed. “But the All Mother smiled on us.”
Hope scanned the peaceful blue sky, fingering the straps of her backpack nervously. Hers was light. He’d packed it with things that she’d need for her comfort, things to keep her alive on the off chance they were separated, but R’har carried the bulk of their supplies. Most of the clothes provided by the Yir were pretty girly so Hope donned her jeans and hiking boots again. Her pack also contained changes of clothes chosen from the most practical of the Yir selections. “Do you think they’ll come after us?”
“The Zerar are in our territory and this area of space is patrolled. It would be foolish to stay here endlessly searching for one small ship.”
He was trying to reassure her, reassure himself too, probably.
“The communications array was damaged.” Hope bit her lip. “Do you think you get a message out to your people? I mean, someone’s going to come for us, aren’t they?”
“I pray that the Goddess bid it so,” he said tightly. “But I do not know. The Zerar were jamming our communications.”
Hope regarded the smashed wreck. It looked like some native birds were already planning on using it as a nesting site. “I know it’s a real mess but . . . if we can wait the Zerar out and come back can you—I mean do you think you could fix the ship up enough to get us to Hir?”
He shook his head. “I must destroy it.”
“Destroy—? You know, it’s not like there’s a metro station a couple blocks away, R’har! If no one comes for us we don’t have another way out of here. You can’t just maroon us here.” Hope shook her head. “You can’t!”
“The Zerar are still in orbit,” he growled shortly. “If we are fortunate they will soon cease scanning for our ship spaceside and leave g’hir space.” His gaze met hers and his tone softened. “I must choose the path that will see you safe, even if it not comfortable or convenient, little one. The Zerar know they damaged our ship badly. If they scan the surface they must find wreckage.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “So even if they find the ship they’ll think we’re dead.”
“There will be nothing left for them to believe we survived.” He looked in the direction of the mountains. “We will go to the relay station and
contact Hir from there. Until then, the forest will keep us safe.” His vivid glance went to the ship. “I will set off the charges I placed. Once the ship is destroyed, we will go.”
“But won’t the Zerar see that from space?” Hope’s brow creased. “An explosion big enough to blow that thing apart is like a bull’s-eye showing them exactly where we are.”
He shook his head again, his blond hair golden in Olari’s afternoon sunlight. “These charges will superheat the ship. They will be hot enough to partially melt the rock beneath but at this distance the sensors of a ship in orbit will dismiss it as an atmospheric fluctuation.” R’har glanced skyward, already sliding his pack off his shoulders. “Wait here. I will return shortly.”
She took a quick step after him. “You mean you have to set them off from down there? Isn’t that, you know, fucking dangerous?”
“I will set the charge from here but I must erase any evidence of our departure. We have left tracks a child could follow.”
Hope glanced at the path they’d taken from the ship. The hillside was rocky and she sure couldn’t see any sign that they’d disturbed things in the valley below.
“Uh, sure,” she said, shifting her weight. “Anything you’d like me to do in the meantime?”
“Remain here and do not wander,” he warned. “This world has its own dangers.”
Hope sent a quick uneasy glance at the woods behind her. “Like what? Space bears?”
“This colony was abandoned many years ago. The settlements are dilapidated, the wildlife unchecked. Most will not recognize bipeds as a danger, only a meal.”
“Oh, grand. I hope you remembered to put the barbeque sauce in my pack. I’d hate to be thought bland.”
“You will be safe here for a few moments,” he assured. “I am well armed. I will return swiftly if you have need of me.”
“Fine, yes, go on,” she said, embarrassed and annoyed at how anxious she was at being separated from him, even for a little while. “I’ll stay right here.”
He held her eyes for a moment then gave a human-style nod. “I will not be gone from you long.”
R’har took off at a jog—a g’hir’s jog which had him going about twenty-five miles an hour. Hope’s mouth parted at his speed, at his inhuman speed. He was probably not even trying.
At some point she had started being able to look right past the ridged brow, the glowing eyes, those fangs, and just see him, just R’har. His growls even sounded normal now. But when he did things like this, moved like lightning, or fell into that stillness of his, it brought it all back—everything about him, his biology, his culture, his way of thinking was alien.
Hope swallowed hard. Her parents had both been human, both American, both from the DC metro area, both doctors, for fuck’s sake, and their marriage was a disaster. And none of those perfect grooms in the bridal magazines sported fangs along with their tuxes.
He was trying to downplay their differences. Trying to nod like a human, rather than a g’hir, trying to mimic human mannerisms, moving far slower than she knew he could. They’d been onboard the ship, confined by its size, so she’d seen him move that fast in the open only once before, back on Earth when he’d cut off her escape, when he’d captured her.
Back on Earth!
Hope’s gaze was drawn to the two suns above and the baker’s dozen of Olari’s moons visible even during daylight. She couldn’t see Earth, of course; not even her own world’s sun would be visible from here. G’hir ships traveled through space by opening a wormhole between destinations—a “jump” they called it. Earth was trillions of miles away and something about being alone, here on this hillside on a distant abandoned world, brought that home in stomach-clenching knowledge.
“Hope?”
With a gasp, she spun around.
“What is it?” R’har was frowning, his gaze scanning the landscape for any threat. “Did you see something?”
“R’har!” she cried, her hands at her chest. “Jesus! You scared the hell out of me!” She looked back down the hillside they’d traveled up earlier. “Why didn’t you come up that way again?”
He blinked. “To better disguise our path.” He indicated the drop-off not far from where they stood. “I circled around and climbed.”
“You—” Hope took a few steps in that direction. Just peering over the edge made her stomach lurch. “You climbed up that? Without any climbing equipment? I didn’t even hear you coming up!” Her glance went over him but he didn’t look any more taxed than if he’d strolled up the hill. “You didn’t even break a sweat!”
He gave a shrug. “It was an easy climb.”
“Okay,” she said, drawing the word out with another glance over the cliff. “Sure.”
R’har smiled and held his hand out to her. “Come, I will set off the charges and we will enjoy our first forest together.”
When R’har destroyed the ship it wasn’t the tremendous attention-getting kaboom that Hope feared. The birds sure took off in a hurry when he set the thing off and even at this great distance she felt a startling wave of heat. For a moment there was nothing then the ship began to melt, collapsing inward into itself as it sunk into the now molten ground.
Her brow creased. “Just how hot did that thing get?”
“Hot enough to incinerate and disguise any organic material among the metal.”
A sudden thought stuck her. “Along with my engagement ring?”
“It is possible I forgot to retrieve the jewel before we abandoned the ship,” he rumbled.
Hope nipped her lip. “Apparently so did I.” She indicated the mass of superheated metal below. “But even if the Zerar do show up they won’t be able to tell us from the melted deck plating, right?”
“That is my objective, yes.”
R’har led the way, seeming determined to reach the thickest part of the forest the quickest way possible. The land was gently rolling and a bit hilly in places, the trees hardwoods, the air cool but not chilly. It reminded Hope a bit of the Northeast in early fall, although these trees didn’t show any sign of changing colors.
Except, of course, that the grass here wasn’t precisely green—more like a dark seaweed color and much softer to the touch. And, while some birds came in shades of brown, others glided among the branches in shades of bright scarlet, indigo, fuchsia. Even that might have seemed almost Earth-like—if their eyes didn’t glow too.
The forests had their share of furred creatures too, some in the trees, some on the ground. They didn’t come across anything the size of a bear but between the lengthened snouts and unnerving otherworldly eyes of the smaller creatures watching them as they passed, she really hoped they didn’t.
“It’s beautiful here,” Hope said, despite the uneasiness the animals caused. She breathed in the sweet, clean air. “Why did the g’hir want leave this place anyway?”
“There was no choice but to leave. The fall in population has forced us inward, closer to the homeworld. We cannot justify the expense maintaining outpost worlds, we are spread too thinly as it is. The decision was made to abandon many of our colonies so we might better protect Hir.”
“There’s really no one else on this world but us?”
It was a creepy feeling, knowing that it was just two of them marooned on an entire world.
R’har gave the tree cover above them a glance. “I pray so, for then the Zerar have left orbit and are searching for us spaceside.”
“If it was one of your colonies, then there are still buildings standing? Or cities?”
“They are empty,” he reminded. “And unmaintained. Even the largest settlements will have long since been overtaken by plant life and animals.”
Hope swallowed hard. “We’re on a world of nothing but ghost towns?”
He glanced back at her, his expression quizzical as he growled the English word. “‘Ghost?’”
“Some humans believe a person’s spirit gets—I don’t know—stuck to a place when they have suffered from a sudden death
or great tragedy. That’s a ghost.”
“Then the Scourge has left every enclosure with such spirits.” He tilted his head. “Do you fear them, then, my Hope? The spirits that humans call ghosts?”
“My parents were doctors, R’har, scientists,” she sniffed. “They didn’t believe in any of that supernatural nonsense.”
He waited, his thick eyebrows raised.
“Okay, yes,” she mumbled after a long moment, her cheeks warming. “Yes, I think ghosts are real.”
“As do I,” he rumbled solemnly. “I have sometimes felt the souls of my family around me; my father watching with pride as I hunted, my mother’s hand on my cheek in times of despair, my sisters protectively following after me, even I as grew to be older than they ever did.”
A lump formed in her throat. “I don’t feel my parents. I used to wish that I did.” She pushed her hair back behind her ears. “Of course even if they are spirits they wouldn’t let me know. That would mean I was right and they were wrong and there’s no way they’d admit that.”
“They were wrong to discourage you from being the artist you longed to be.”
Hope blinked. “They were just . . . they wanted me to be practical.”
He gave a disapproving huff. “There is nothing practical about a life spent unhappily.”
“There’s nothing yippee-skippy about not having enough money to eat either, R’har.”
“I am your lifemate now. You need never fear hunger again,” he growled. “You may pursue any interest you wish.”
Hope blinked. “Wait, you mean I’ll—I mean, your mate—would be able to work on Hir? What about Jenna? Does she work?”
“I am told Ra’kur’s mate intends to sell her confections in Be’lyn City.” He frowned at her, looking more than a little affronted. “Did you truly think yourself nothing but breeding stock?”
“I guess I—I just assumed that—”
“There are races among our allies who separate work by gender but the g’hir do not. We do not bar females from any profession. I will encourage you to undertake any work you wish—if it brings you happiness.”
Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2 Page 12