Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2

by Danes, Willow

  He hoped the Goddess would let this woman read his heart in his gaze, that she would be moved enough to help . . .

  She sighed. “So, what’d you do anyway? To lose her?”

  “I . . .” His voice fell to a whisper. “I deceived her.”

  The human woman’s eyes narrowed. “About what, exactly?”

  “My Hope, she . . . did not wish to be my mate. I thought I could win her if I had more time so I . . .”

  “You what?” Jenna prompted.

  R’har forced himself to meet Jenna’s gaze. “I told her that our ship required repairs. That we could not continue to Hir, that I could not return her to Earth,” he admitted, wretched, and spread his hands. “But this . . . was not true.”

  Ra’kur scowled in disapproval but Jenna burst out laughing.

  “Billy Harding did that once, said he just clean forgot to fill the tank. ’Course he didn’t know I could see the red gas can from right where I was sittin’ in the cab.”

  Ra’kur’s fangs flashed. “Biiilleeeharrrding?”

  “Don’t worry, it didn’t work.” Jenna smirked. “Much.” She looked back at R’har. “Maybe you should start at the beginning, catch me up a bit? And just call me ‘Jenna,’ okay?”

  His heart surged at her kind attention and he relayed how he had captured Hope for his own, how she had softened toward him during their time on the ship, the Zerar attack and his ultimate confession, the agony of the voyage on the warship knowing he had lost her—

  Jenna laid her hand on his arm gently. “I’m sorry.”

  “You are the only one who can help me, Jenna.” R’har swallowed hard. “Only you can carry my heart to her. Will you—will you help me?”

  Jenna’s eyes shone as Hope’s did when her eyes were about to water. Then she nodded as the humans did. “Okay, R’har. I’ll do what I can.”

  He closed his eyes for an instant in silent thanks.

  “I suppose I could just drop in and say hi to Si’hala,” Jenna mused. “I’ll just hang around until I can get a word in with Hope, private-like. Hope . . .” Her brow creased thoughtfully. “I don’t know any girl in Brittle Bridge by that name. Is she from around there?”

  “I captured her in the same area where you resided, although, unlike you, she is not a backwoods hick.”

  “What?” Jenna gasped. “What did you just call me?”

  R’har exchanged looks with her mate but clearly the other warrior, too, was bewildered by her reaction.

  “A backwoods hick,” R’har repeated, speaking the English words more carefully, in case it was the pronunciation that he had gotten incorrect.

  Jenna took a step forward, her hands on her hips and her unusual eyes narrowed dangerously. “I don’t know where you picked that up, R’har, but that’s quite an insult you just delivered.”

  R’har blinked. “My apologies, I did not know this phrase to be offensive! It has no translation in Hironian.”

  Jenna glanced at her mate, who silently shook his head. After a moment she looked back R’har. “I take it that charming phrase is from your new mate? She say anything else?”

  R’har glanced at her throat, though he could see no difference in the skin shade there so Jenna was not likely to take offense at this term. “Only that people of your territory have necks that are reddened.”

  “Rednecks.” Jenna fairly spat the English word.

  His stomach sank. Without this human female’s help he could lose his Hope forever. “Please, I meant no offense—”

  Jenna waved her hand. “No, I know you didn’t but jeez.” She shook her head. “Are you sure you want her back? I mean, if you can get Ra’kur to take me along to Earth I could find you a sweet little backwoods hick girl who actually deserves a g’hir warrior.”

  “I want Hope.” R’har’s face heated at the aching longing in his own voice. “I will want for no other my whole life.”

  “Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that.” Jenna sighed again. “You g’hir warriors. You love too much.”

  Ra’kur raised his eyebrow. “Do you mean that, little bird?”

  Her mouth curved a bit. “No, I surely don’t.” Jenna looked at R’har. “All right, I’ll do what I can.” She folded her arms. “But if you want my opinion, that girl needs some sense knocked into her.”

  Twenty-five

  Hope kept her eyes forward as she descended the stairs of the clanhall, determined to get outside alone for once. In the past week she’d been overwhelmed with clanbrothers seeking to attract her attention. They lingered in the hall outside her quarters, pretending to be on one errand or another, they hovered about the dining hall when she came down for meals—late to avoid the majority of them—eager to ask after her health, to inquire how the night’s rest was, to comment on the fine weather or the coming gathering.

  She didn’t want to be rude, she really didn’t. But even the smallest smile or casual answer was proving too much encouragement. Hope was so focused now on not making eye contact she didn’t notice the older, elegantly garbed man until she reached the bottom of the staircase and he, a younger warrior, and Lihr literally blocked her way.

  “Mata,” Lihr began, looking uncomfortable. “May I present Council Member Mirak of the Betari enclosure?”

  “We met before—” the silver-haired g’hir began smoothly.

  “Yeah,” Hope interrupted. “I remember you. You were at the meeting of the Ruling Council when I arrived at Be’lyn City.” She glanced at Lihr. The future clanfather’s face was tense; likely he too was remembering how Mirak had tried to dismiss the Yir’s claim at that meeting so she’d be up for grabs again. “But the Yir enclosure is pretty far from the capital so I’m sure you aren’t dropping in to say hi. What are you doing here?”

  “I have come to see how you are faring, Mata,” Mirak said, sounding surprised. “We have had no news of you.”

  Hope’s glanced at the young man with Mirak and who, with the same amber glowing eyes, strongly resembled the Council member.

  “My son, Ar’ar.” Mirak put a hand at the young man’s shoulder and urged him forward. He was gorgeous and tall—of course—with dark hair and bright yellow eyes.

  Ar’ar bent his head to her, his gaze holding hers. “Mata.”

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out why Mirak had brought his son along for her to take a look at.

  Hope used to envy great beauties. At first all the attention here had been really ego boosting. Now being a piece of meat was just getting . . . depressing.

  “Nice to meet you,” Hope muttered. “But now’s not a good time. I was just on my way out to—”

  “It is,” Mirak broke in, “rather important that I speak to you, Mata.”

  Hope felt her blood pressure rising. All she wanted to do was get away from this for a little while. “About what?”

  “The Day of Choosing is nearly upon us,” Mirak reminded. “As the designated representative in this matter, it is my responsibility to discuss your wishes and convey them back to the Ruling Council.”

  No wonder Lihr looks so upset.

  The warriors here all hoped to be chosen as her new mate and Lihr had made it clear that the Yir as a clan wanted her to stay. He wanted her to pick one—any one—of his clanbrothers rather than return to Earth.

  If she hadn’t met R’har first, she might have actually considered it but now all she wanted to do was to go home.

  “The Yir have prepared a room where we can speak in private,” Mirak said, indicating the many warriors who lingered here in the grand hall. “You will be able to speak freely of your decision.”

  Hope blew her breath out. “Okay, fine. Let’s just do this.”

  She followed the Council member to a quiet room of the main hall. She preceded him into the comfortably furnished sunlit room. Ar’ar took up position outside but Lihr was about to follow them in when Mirak stopped him at the door.

  “We must speak in private,” Mirak said firmly.

  Lihr gla
nced at her, his rippled brow creased. “Mata—”

  “Don’t worry,” Hope said and narrowed her gaze at Mirak. “I can handle it.”

  Reluctantly Lihr left, closing the door behind him.

  Mirak turned to her with a kindly smile. “How are you enjoying your time on Hir?”

  “Not enough to stay on Hir,” Hope said, folding her arms. “I’m going back to Earth, Council Member.”

  “Are the Yir treating you well?” Mirak asked as if she hadn’t spoken. “Other arrangements can be made for your remaining time on our world if they have not.”

  “Like spending it at your enclosure with the Betari clan?” Hope asked. “Yeah, as I recall you were really vocal about my not coming to the Yir enclosure.”

  “You have abjured their clanbrother R’har.” Mirak spread his hands. “What is the use of forcing you to uphold some ancient tradition when you clearly do not wish to be among the Yir at all?”

  “The Yir,” she began heatedly, “are wonderful people. They’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

  “I am also deeply . . . troubled that you might be influenced to accept a situation so far below your obvious worth.”

  “You know, the red hair must really be catching up with me,” Hope said. “’Cause I’m a little short on patience these days. Why don’t you just cut the crap and get to the point?”

  “Very well. The Betari are a stronger clan than the Yir,” Mirak said bluntly. “We have more wealth, more influence, more power. If—the All Mother forbid—the Zerar do invade Hir we are prepared to protect our own. Choose Ar’ar as your mate and you will be the next clanmother of the Betari. Your child would rule our clan and my son, Ar’ar—”

  “Is. Smoking. Hot. But still, no thanks.”

  “Please, Mata,” Mirak urged, his face serious. “Come and evaluate my clan for yourself before you decide. Reside with the Betari for a few days. Let us welcome you properly. Let us show you what your life could be like as our clanmother. You have nothing to tie you to the Yir. No reason to remain among them now that the warrior R’har is shamed and cast out. Why will you not consider the Betari instead?”

  “Because the Yir don’t annoy the fuck out of me,” Hope snapped and headed for the door. “I’m going home, Mirak. Back to Earth, get it? All you have to do is deliver that simple message to the Ruling Council so make sure you get it right.”

  Mirak’s expression cooled a little but he clearly wasn’t one to give up easily. “Their clanbrother’s humiliation at losing a lifemate stains all the Yir. You are welcome among the Betari, Mata, anytime you wish to join us.”

  “Have a nice trip back to the capital, Council Member,” Hope said and threw the door open.

  Lihr hurried after her as she stalked through the grand hall. “Is everything all right, Mata?”

  “Just dandy,” Hope snapped. “You know, you’ve got some really nice breakables in here. Better let me go out for that ride before I decide to stay here and start smashing things.”

  Lihr took the hint and fell back. Hope stalked through the courtyard and headed toward the outlying buildings where the multari—beasts that the g’hir rode—were stabled. She was a lousy rider and they wouldn’t have let her ride out alone even if she could have won prizes, but at least it would be harder for anyone to hit on her when they were all trotting.

  “Hope!” Si’hala called.

  Fucking hell, what now?

  Hope turned and went stock-still at the sight of the two women headed her way. At Si’hala’s side, dressed in Hironian clothes, pink-cheeked and round bellied, was a human woman.

  Hope stared; she just couldn’t help it. She’d spent so much time looking at g’hir lately that this woman, even clearly pregnant, with her smooth human features and smaller, slighter frame, seemed as light and delicate as a fey.

  I wonder if that’s why he used to call me “little one” . . .

  “Hope,” Si’hala said, smiling widely. “Allow me to present the future clanmother of the Erah enclosure and the mate of Ra—”

  “The famous Jenna,” Hope finished, folding her arms.

  The woman was startled but recovered quickly to offer a smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

  She had a southerner’s drawl, pure North Carolina and soft on the ear. She was pretty too, with warm, chocolate brown eyes and hair just a shade darker than that. She was shorter than Hope, her gaze friendly and intelligent. If she’d met this woman under any other circumstance she would have liked her right off.

  But this was the woman who had helped the g’hir by giving them information about Earth, about human women, who was directly responsible for her kidnapping and the kidnapping of God knew how many women to come.

  Hell, this woman was the reason Hope was even here. If it weren’t for Jenna she’d never even have heard of the g’hir.

  Or R’har.

  “Nice town you got,” Hope said, then at Jenna’s blank look added, “Brittle Bridge. You know, on Earth, where you come from? The townsfolk think you’re dead, by the way. Murdered by that raving sheriff and buried out in the woods somewhere.”

  “Raving sheriff? What raving—?” Jenna’s eyes widened. “Bill Riley? They think Bill Riley killed me?”

  “Well, they sure ’nough don’t believe you was kidnapped by aliens, sugar,” Hope said, aping Jenna’s drawl.

  Jenna’s face tightened. “But—Bill? I mean, he’s not in jail or anything, is he?”

  “No, on Earth we still have that ‘habeas corpus’ thing going on,” Hope said. “They can’t convict him of murder without a body.”

  “But that’s what everybody thinks, though,” Jenna murmured and shut her eyes briefly. “Oh, poor Bill.”

  “Wow, you seem genuinely somewhat distressed for him.”

  Jenna’s warm brown eyes flashed fire. “I’ve known Bill my whole life, the man’s practically family!”

  “Perhaps,” Si’hala interjected, her tone bright although she was wringing her hands, “I should have refreshments brought to the atrium for our guest—”

  “Your guest,” Hope snapped, her temper threatening to burn out of control. “Not mine. I live on Earth where humans belong and right now I’m going riding.”

  Hope turned on her heel and, breathing hard with the effort of keeping her anger in check, headed for the outbuildings.

  She made it as far as the field that lay between the clanhall and the stables before the southern girl caught up to her.

  “You know what, Miss Hope? You are really fucking rude!”

  “Rude?” Hope exclaimed, turning to face Jenna. “You have the nerve to call me rude? After what you did?”

  “We’ve just met,” Jenna reminded sharply, a little out of breath from hurrying with that big belly. “What the hell could I possibly have done to you?”

  “What did you—?” Hope’s hands clenched into fists. “It’s your goddamn fault I got kidnapped in the first place. You helped them! You told them all about us—about humans. You made it easy for them to just show up and hunt women down like prey!”

  Jenna’s face flushed. “The g’hir were going to Earth no matter what I said or did. And yes, I did give them information that I thought could help, that I thought could save both the g’hir and human lives! And—just so you know—I’m the one who made it possible for you to go home at all!”

  “You? The Ruling Council are the ones who are sending me home!”

  “Because I only agreed to help them if the women they brought here had a choice about staying on Hir!” Jenna snapped. “You can go home because I made sure that you could! But let me tell you something, sugar,” Jenna gritted out. “As far as I’m concerned R’har should have his head examined for even sending me to talk to you!”

  “R’har?” Hope’s blinked. “He sent you? You’ve . . . seen him?”

  “So you do remember the man you had banished from his own home?”

  “I didn’t know they were going to do that,” Hope said thickly. “I said I didn’t wa
nt to see him again, but I—I never meant that they should keep him from his home.”

  Jenna shook her head. “Do you have any idea how much he’s suffering right now? Do you even care? Do you know what it means to have you send him away like that?”

  “Look, when I’m gone, he can come back.” Hope swallowed hard. “He’ll be able to go back to the clanhall by the next gathering.”

  Jenna took a few steps closer, shaking her head. “I’m not talking about the clanhall. I’m talking about you. He loves you.”

  “He lied to me! Or didn’t he tell you that? He lied to me!”

  “He—” Jenna offered a half-shrug. “Fibbed . . . a bit.”

  “Fibbed,” Hope repeated flatly. “That’s what you’d call it? He kidnapped me—”

  Jenna held up her index finger. “Captured!”

  “—and he told me that we couldn’t go anywhere because the—perfectly functioning—ship we were on was too damaged to move!”

  Jenna gave a short laugh. “Didn’t you ever have a boy pretend to run out of gas so the two of you could get stuck someplace private together?”

  “No,” Hope said coolly. “But then again, none of my boyfriends drove me home in a pickup truck though the Appalachian backwoods.”

  Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “Smoky Mountains. The Appalachians are farther north.”

  “Point is,” Hope continued, “he lied.”

  “The point is,” Jenna returned sharply, “he’s crazy about you.” Her eyes flickered over Hope. “Though I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”

  “You know,” Hope said, stepping back, “this has been really great—catching up with a fellow human and all—but I think I’m all ‘girlfriended’ out for now.”

  “Maybe he should have been honest with you!” Jenna called, doggedly following. “But I’m willing to bet you made it plain that this playing for time stunt might be the only chance he thought he had with you!”

  Hope turned to stare. “So this my fault? He barefaced lies to me and it’s my fault?”

  “He made a mistake. He paid for it. From what I understand the Zerar almost killed him for it.”