“What about—” He hesitated, his vibrant gaze meeting hers seriously. “Do you have other hurts? Other wounds I have not seen?”
“Bruises, cuts, scrapes on my arms and upper back. My feet are probably the worst of it.”
He gave a huff. “I have supplies to treat your injuries at the shelter.”
“You might want to hold off on the Band-Aids till I can get some of this muck off,” she said, indicating her matted hair. “I don’t think I can stand this crap on me a minute longer.”
“The water of this river is safe for you to wash in,” he agreed. “Wait here. I will return soon.”
He was gone before she could say anything more. Scooting forward on the rock, she carefully lowered her hurting feet into the cool water. It stung like hellfire at first but she’d been expecting that and once she withstood the initial shock the chill felt fantastic. Summer, her hands behind her, leaned back and let her head fall back in relief.
The splashing of his boots alerted her to his return.
“I have brought cleansing lotion and a cloth for you to dry yourself.” He placed them beside her on the rock. “After you have bathed I will carry you back to the shelter and then tend your wounds there but I am here if you have need of me.”
Summer heaved a sigh and began unfastening the filthy shirt she wore. “Peep all you want, warrior. Just keep it in your pants, okay?”
He scowled. “It is not my intention to ‘peep’ at you,” he said shortly and turned his back to her.
Summer kept one eye on him as she finished opening her shirt. G’hir females wore short halters to support their breasts but she hadn’t put one in her pack. Since she’d originally thought to disappear right after the morning meal, she’d mistakenly assumed that her breakout from the enclosure would happen at a time when she was wearing day clothes. Her nighttime escape left her without a halter or bra but a suspicious glance his way showed that—true to his word—he wasn’t even trying to peek. She eased off her mud-encrusted pants and carefully stepped into the water, trying unsuccessfully to hold back a groan.
“Are you all right?” Ke’lar asked over his shoulder, but he didn’t look at her.
“Yeah,” she said, wincing. “Just hurts when I walk.”
The last thing she needed was yet another bruise and she took a few steps deeper into the river, cautious about her footing. The water was cold but not fast moving. She wasn’t worried about getting swept away by the current.
Anyway, he’d probably just jump in after her and haul her out with one burly arm if she did.
A half-dozen paces in she found a little depression where the riverbed fell away and the water was deeper, a little pool she could lower her body into by halfway bending her knees. She dipped down, spreading her arms out for a moment in the water till she was submerged to her neck.
She put her face in the water, rubbing at the dried mud with her palms, then tilted her head back. It was a weird but welcome feeling to have the mud soften and float from her hair. Summer used the pads of her fingers—she’d broken a couple of her nails off short since last night—to scrub at her scalp, loosening the dirt and muck there.
When her hair was good and drenched she waded back to grab the cleanser. She lathered her hair, rinsing the long strands and lathering again. She washed her face and body of the dirt and sweat and scrubbed off the mud caked behind her ears.
She washed her lower body and legs and, gingerly, her heels and feet too. Then she waded back to the depression to rinse. For a few moments she just relaxed there, letting herself float, letting the cool water soothe her aches and bug bites, letting the river’s currents carry away some of the terror she’d known since her abduction . . .
“Are you all right?” he asked again, his tone urgent. “You are not moving.”
The warrior still wasn’t looking at her but his sharper g’hir hearing would let him listen for her movements, even above the gentle sound of the slow-moving water. He shifted his weight restlessly, his upper body already half turned her way.
Summer sighed. Break over.
“I’m fine,” she said aloud. “I’m going to be dunking my head so don’t panic if you call out to me and I don’t answer immediately.”
“I would not ‘panic’ in any case,” he grumbled, folding his arms and firmly turning away
She dipped her head back to rinse, the strands of her hair billowing out around her, feeling so much lighter and cleaner.
In fact, Summer felt cleaner than she had since Ar’ar had first put his meaty hands on her.
As wonderful as it felt here, the water was starting to get chilly and she was shivering a bit when she stood and headed back to the rock. She grabbed the large drying cloth and stood behind him to towel dry her hair.
“I have another set of clothes in my pack.” She’d wrapped the drying cloth around her body and retook her place on the rock. She shook out her shirt, stiff with dirt and sweat. “But since I’m wet anyway I should wash these. Just give me a minute.”
“I will wash them after your injuries have been treated.”
“I’m right here. I can do it.”
He huffed an annoyed sigh and started to turn toward her, then caught himself. “May I look at you now?”
“I’m wearing the towel if that’s what you mean.”
Apparently that satisfied him because he turned to face her. “Leave the clothes. I will—”
Ke’lar broke off, his vibrant blue eyes blinking down at her and his mouth parted, the white tips of his fangs just visible between his full lips.
“What?” she asked then realized this was the first time he’d actually seen her not covered in gray-green muck. With the moons’ light and his superior g’hir sight—able to detect color even when moonlight blanched her vision to black and white—he could see her perfectly.
He dropped his gaze and reached for the cleanser.
“I will tend the clothes later,” he said gruffly. “Come here so that I may wash your feet.”
“I just washed them,” she objected, scooting a little away from him.
“And then walked here from where you bathed,” he pointed out. “I will be quick.”
“Fine,” she grumbled. She was sore and stiff but it was hard to be too mad—it was thanks to him that she’d gotten this bath at all.
And that she wasn’t back at the Betari clanhall right now.
His touch was soothing as he bathed her feet, a tender gentleness surprising in a man so big.
Summer’s brow creased. Ar’ar had never physically injured her, hadn’t even left her with a bruise, not even when he’d “captured” and restrained her, but his touch lacked any warmth to it, any caring behind the dutiful attempts at coupling—
“Have I hurt you?” Ke’lar asked at her frown. “I apologize. I did not intend to.”
“No.” She shook her head, relaxing her brow. “No, you didn’t.”
He bent to gather her into his arms. “You must tell me immediately if I do.”
But his hold was as careful as if he bore one of their precious few g’hir young as he carried her back to his shelter. He ducked inside and leaned down to place her on the sleeping pallet as if she weighed nothing at all. Apparently before he had returned to the river with the cleansing lotion and towel he’d taken the time to shake the furs clean of the mud that had flaked off while she’d rested here.
He settled her on the pallet sitting up, then adjusted the light so it would shine more directly on her. He had a case of medical supplies in hand and knelt in front of her, already lifting the lid.
“I will begin with the abrasions and bruises on your face. I have a mild oral analgesic suitable to human physiology.”
Summer rubbed at her sore shoulder. “I’ll take a handful, thanks.”
A frown touched his rippled brow. “That would be far too high a dose for your body weight.”
“I’m kidding,” she assured, putting out her hand for the medication. “I’ll take whatever y
ou’ve got. And something for the damn bug bites too, if there is anything.”
“I have salve for that.”
He gave her a single pill and handed her the water pouch to wash it down. For each cut and blister he applied a sterilizing ointment and then a sealant to protect and cushion the flesh even as it sped healing. Summer sighed in relief as the salve took away the miserable itch from the bites.
“I do not even know your namesound,” he commented, his fingers gentle on her cheek. His glowing gaze met hers and he inclined his head to her. “I am Ke’lar, of the Erah enclosure.”
“Yeah, I heard Ar’ar call you that. I’m Summer.”
“Summer . . .” He applied healing salve to her shoulder, cradling her arm in his large hand. “Did they give you that namesound because your hair is as bright as the sun in that season?”
She gave a short, surprised laugh. “No, I was born bald. The blond happened later. Lucky thing too, they probably would have named me Marilyn instead.” At his puzzled glance she explained, “After Marilyn Monroe, the actress. A human female very famous for having blond hair.”
He tilted his head. “You would not have liked that namesound? It is pleasant enough.”
She gave another laugh. “Not really, too many expectations on me—to be this blond and named Marilyn. But to answer your question they named me Summer ’cause I came two weeks late—my birthday is June twenty-first. That was the summer solstice the year I was born, the first day of summer. Well, at least in the region of Earth I’m from.”
“You do not have a second name? The other human females seem to have a second clan name, as well.”
“My full name is Summer Elizabeth Mills. I was Summer Elizabeth Baker for a brief stint there but it’s Mills again.”
Ke’lar’s brow furrowed. “Were you adopted into another clan?”
“I’m divorced.” He looked at her blankly and she sighed. “Okay, ‘Summer’ we already covered. My middle name is to honor my grandmother, Elizabeth. My family name is Mills but when I married I took my husband’s family name, Baker.”
He blinked. “You have a human mate, Summer?”
“Oh, hell no! Not anymore anyway, and thank God that’s over with! Dean is some piece of work—as Uncle Lester says. Dean actually manages to make Ar’ar look good in comparison and Ar’ar is a kidnapping alien monst—”
Ke’lar’s luminous gaze met hers and she broke off, her face heating.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“A salve will aid the healing here,” he said, indicating the ugly purplish bruise on her shin.
He took his time, thoroughly examining and treating even the smallest scrape. And she had dozens of them. On her face from the branches, on her arms and elbows and shoulders where she’d caught herself against the balcony, and other injuries that she couldn’t begin to say where she’d picked up.
“You do not like my kind,” he said finally, applying a bandage seal to the blister on the back of her right heel. “The g’hir.”
Despite his mild tone, his gentle touch, her nostrils flared. “I didn’t get a chance to like—or not like—your kind! I was at my uncle’s house, just heading out to the shed for firewood, and then a humongous demon full of teeth and glowing eyes was coming at me and roaring. I was screaming, running for the house, and something hit me hard in the back. When I woke up I was fucking handcuffed! And when I begged to go home he explained how he and I were going to breed new g’hir! That’s why he took me away from—away from home! To breed with him!”
His expression was shuttered. “Other human women have found g’hir mates pleasing to them.”
“But you aren’t sorry, are you?” Summer narrowed her gaze. “For what he did to me. For what your kind is doing to other human women. None of you are.”
“You are our last hope,” he said, but he didn’t meet her eyes. “In all our searching only human women have proved compatible mates. You are our only chance of survival.”
“If the cost of your survival is the brutal exploitation of another species,” she gritted out, “what the hell makes you think you even deserve to survive?”
“What would humans do?” His eyes flashed blue fire. “If faced with this choice? Would you breed with another species like my kind or watch your own become extinct?”
“Oh, I’m not playing all high and mighty on you. Based on stuff like, I don’t know—the Holocaust—I’m sure we humans would be just as uncivilized, just as selfish and brutal, as you g’hir are. But that doesn’t make it right and I’d have a lot more respect for your kind if you’d just admit what you’re doing is wrong.”
His face was stormy. “No human female has ever been mistreated on Hir. You are honored, cherished, coveted—”
“Never mistreated—?” Her face went hot. “What the fuck would you know about it?”
“My brother’s mate, Jenna, is human,” he growled. “She loves Ra’kur and their daughter. She is happy and content living with my clan.”
“Jenna?” The name came like a punch in the stomach. “Wait, you don’t mean—Jenna McNally? Jesus, I know her! We were best friends as kids. We hung out every summer, whenever she and her grandfather came up from Asheville. We traded friendship bracelets when we were twelve. I don’t believe this! I mean . . . I haven’t seen her since I moved to Alexandria, not since before I—” She shook her head. “And when Uncle Lester told me last year that Jenna disappeared . . . I mean she was always so level-headed, so responsible, I knew she wouldn’t have just up and left. I—we all—thought . . . She’s here? Holy hell, everybody back home thinks she’s rotting out the woods somewhere!”
Summer’s whole body went cold.
And I’ve been gone a week already! What will they think—what would anybody think—with the house door unlocked, holiday cards on the table, the lights and TV on, and me nowhere to be found . . .
Oh my God, if they think I’m dead —
“You have become very pale.” He was frowning. “Do you feel ill? Or faint?”
“No.” Summer swallowed hard. “I’m—homesick. I just want to get back as quickly as I can.”
“I understand.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “You—you do? You mean . . . you’ll help me? You’ll help me get back to Earth?”
“And force my clan into a war with the Betari?” He shook his head. “No, little one, I am taking you back to your mate.”
Four
“What?”
“Ar’ar captured you in accordance with our customs and laws.” Ke’lar’s mouth was tight. “By your own word he has not mistreated you. You must be returned to him.”
Summer’s hands clenched. “You call kidnapping me, keeping me prisoner, not mistreating me?”
“Prisoner?” His bright eyes were alert. “How were you held prisoner?”
“How about not letting me go back to Earth?” she cried. “I wasn’t even allowed to leave the enclosure!”
He turned away, focused on gathering and repacking the medical supplies back into their case.
“Ar’ar would not wish to risk one so precious. Keeping you safely at the Betari enclosure would be prudent,” he said evenly. “You are a great temptation to unmated males. Likely even those within his own clan have coveted you for themselves but they at least are held sway under enclosure loyalty and clan directive. And there have been assaults on human women by the Purists—”
“Purists?” Summer stared. “Who the hell are the Purists?”
He met her gaze, surprised. “Did the Betari never speak of them to you?” At her headshake, he frowned. “The Purists are g’hir who have united in their disapproval of this new breeding with humans. They seek to end all such matings and purge our world of the human influence and offspring.”
“No,” she breathed. “Nobody said anything to me about that at all.”
Why am I so offended by that anyway?
The g’hir were huge, hulking, fanged alien beasts with rippled foreheads. The very idea of re
producing with Ar’ar was repugnant, but that some of their people should feel the same way about humans, the same way about her—
“Likely the Betari did not wish to worry you with talk of them.” He sealed the case and stood, holding it between his hands. “Their enclosure is well protected, you were safe there, in your home clanhall. I am actually surprised you were able to escape.”
“You can hardly call it my home and say I escaped from it in the same breath.” Her fingers clenched in the soft fur of the covers. “So that’s it, huh? You aren’t going to do anything about this? You’re just going to patch me up and send me right back to Ar’ar?”
“There is nothing to be done,” he growled sharply. “Not without breaking g’hir law. Not without causing a blood-soaked rift between two clans who have been at peace since the Scourge. Ar’ar captured you. You are his now.”
Summer felt her nostrils flare. “I’m not anybody’s but mine! And I want to return to Earth!”
“Then tell Ar’ar you wish to go home!” Ke’lar’s snarled. “Tell him of your decision to abjure a g’hir mate and return to your homeworld.”
“I have told him! I’ve told anybody who would fucking listen!”
He gave an impatient huff and his voice fell to a grumble as he began packing the foodstuffs within the shelter. “You have only a moon’s cycle of time with Ar’ar before your Day of Choosing. On that day announce that you wish to return to your own world. Your memory will be wiped of our world, of us. He must let you return then.”
“No, he won’t! Who do you think relays that ‘choosing’ crap to people outside the enclosure? A Council member! And guess who the Betari’s clanfather is? Council member Mirak! He’s already told me that it doesn’t matter what I say, he’s going to go out there and tell everyone I chose Ar’ar!”
Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3 Page 4