Alien Intent (Captured by Aliens Book 3) (8 page)

How
could she not? She nodded, reluctant to leave the tunneled orchard behind. Moving
faster, an ancient gray façade of thick carved block came into view. Covered in
vines, the stone remained hidden until they were upon it. A giant wheel of
rusted metal and wooden steps pedaled in the running water, though most of the
wood that caught the river had disintegrated like rotting teeth.

“I
always imagined taking that wheel for a ride when I was a kid.”

She
smiled. “Like a carnival ride.”

He
lifted a brow, not understanding, and she shrugged. She admired the picturesque
scene as he went inside through an open doorway.

He came
out within minutes. “There’s nothing left in there. Some animals have rummaged
the place, chewed through wires. You’ll have to be stuck with me a while
longer.

“It’s
not so bad with views like this.”

Dar
grinned. “Good to know. Let’s go.”

Dar
moved faster now, down from the mill where moss covered stones overtook the
dirt, taking them down an increasingly steep path. Soon the flat surface became
stairs, and she realized they weren’t far from the water. She could see the
river peeping through the thick overgrowth only occasionally, but an
unmistakable roar filled the moist, warm air. His excitement was palpable,
encouraging her to descend faster. Ahead, a wide landing broke the seemingly
unending stairs. There they stopped, and she could see the small waterfall in
all its glory. The afternoon sun beat down on her head, making her long for a
cool drink.

“Beautiful,”
she said, a little breathless from running. She thought about pulling out her
water, but was distracted by Dar. He grinned, and with his hair falling over
his forehead and a charming dimple in one cheek, he took away the last of her
breath. She smiled back.

“Take
these just down there. At the bottom of the stairs,” he said, removing his gun
and stuffing it in the bag as he handed it to her. She accepted it and made an
oomph of sound as her shoulders took the full weight.

“Why?”
she said, looking up at him.

His grin
widened. His eyes crinkled at the corners—full of mischief—and he kicked off
his shoes, sending warning bells ringing in her mind. “Another shortcut,” he
said. He turned toward the waterfall, ran, and leapt off the ledge before she
could say a word.

Jasmine
screamed and reached out to stop him—far too late to do any good.

“Is it
always this crowded?” Samara asked Grail over her shoulder. Behind her, Cyndy
walked abreast with the guard, who kept scanning the crowd.

“Market
day,” he said. “Just keep following this street. It will open up past those
storefronts and you’ll see the stable complex. You cannot miss it. It is the
largest structure besides the palace.”

She
nodded, pushing through the throng. Ignoring the sights and scents of the
unfamiliar and alien was difficult, but she was on a mission to save her
cousin. She couldn’t afford the distraction or delay. When she knew Jasmine was
safe, then she could enjoy herself.

The
street ahead widened as he described, growing nearer with her quick pace.
Someone grabbed her bicep, stopping her mid-stride. She was so focused that at
first she didn’t realize the hand grabbing her arm didn’t belong to Cyndy or
Grail until she heard Grail’s voice. She turned her head, looking up into an
unfamiliar, determined male face.

“Unhand
her,” Grail said in a deadly tone. A pulsing, electric staccato accompanied his
words, and from the corner of her eye she could see an orange light glowing
from the end of Grail’s raised staff. Static filled the air, making her nerves buzz.
She could feel her hair lifting off her forehead and floating to the charged
weapon.

The man
looked slowly from her face to where Grail stood ready to attack should the
stranger disobey his order. She held still, waiting to see if the man was a
moron or if she’d be forced to claw his eyes out and run and then watch from a
safe distance as Grail roasted his balls. Without really looking, she noticed
the crowd had separated from them, forming a haphazard circle as everyone
watched the showdown. Slowly, the man grinned and released her arm. She could
feel the imprint of his fingers lingering long after he’d tucked his arm back
by his side. No one held on that tight without bad intentions. Samara resisted
the impulse to rub feeling back into her arm.

“My
apologies. She reminded me of someone I knew once,” the man said, backing away
with his hands held up in surrender. He joined a group of three others and
melded back into the crowd to disappear.

Samara’s
heart unstuck from her throat as the sounds of the market returned to normal
and Grail turned his staff off, or on safety. Whatever. Her hair stopped
standing on end. She swallowed painfully, coming to realize why he insisted
they needed an escort. She clutched her hands together, looking at the men
moving around them with paranoid suspicion.

“Are you
okay?” Cyndy and Grail asked nearly in unison.

“Jinx,”
Cyndy said.

Samara
nodded. “Yeah. I’m good. Thanks.”

“Let us
go,” he said.

“Yeah,
before something worse happens,” Cyndy said with a frown.

Giving a
nod, Samara hurried alongside Grail and Cyndy as they left the main part of the
city behind. The shadow of the zhala stables loomed overhead. The curved walls
extended high above them, reminding her of a stadium back home. Passing through
a set of arched double doors, Samara was charmed by the columns supporting the
weight of the building—they looked like dragons with wings tucked in, standing
tall and holding up the ceiling.

“Beautiful,”
she murmured.

“You’re
not supposed to be in here,” an obnoxious, masculine voice announced, ripping
her attention towards the source. He blocked their path, hands behind his back,
his black uniform impeccably clean and neat. The stiff collar grazed just under
his square jaw, which jutted in a noticeably smug manner. He looked young,
possibly early thirties with faint creases on his forehead, but his close-cropped
ash blond hair made him look like a silver fox. Samara immediately disliked
him.

Grail
saluted, clapping a fist against his chest. The other man did the same then
looked the women over. He stared at Samara. She kept her face as neutral as she
could manage.

“Ladies,
this is Jerik Warsong. Samara and Cyndy. We’ve come for word on Captain Dar
Tagnon and their friend, whom he escorted on tour. Has Captain Tagnon reported
in?”

“I don’t
believe that should be discussed before civilians, Arkane,” Jerik said.

Samara
surged forward, disregarding Grail’s mild attempt at help. “That’s my cousin
out there. She’s the only family I’ve got left. I want to know have you heard
from them or not?”

A muscle
ticked on Jerik’s jaw. He narrowed his eyes.

“I have
Prince Zeta’s express permission to attend the women on this matter,” Grail
said as Samara faced off with Jerik.

“Why was
I not informed beforehand?” he said coolly.

“They
wanted to come themselves and hear from her in person through the comm unit.
They would not be dissuaded, and the princess felt compelled to indulge them
given the circumstances.”

“If it
will get them out of here…” Jerik snorted in disgust. “Women. They make you all
soft. Come. Try not to scream at the zhala when you enter. They are in their
stalls and shouldn’t eat you unless provoked.”

Grail
said to Cyndy, under his breath, “They won’t eat you.”

“If
you’re trying to frighten us, just stop,” Samara said, following the jerkwad
into an open air area. The ceiling of the stables formed a lip over the zhala
enclosures yet left an opening to the sky for easy entry and exit. She smelled
fruit and animal musk, but nothing overly unpleasant as she expected. She
supposed she thought it would smell like a horse barn in need of mucking. This
just smelled like over-ripened citrus.

Jerik
the jerk led them to another enclosed area, which was obviously an office and
work stations for the other men. At their entrance, several of the guards
raised their eyes, but at a look from Jerik, returned to their work.

A panel
set into the wall above a desk blinked with lights and knobs and smooth glass
panels. He placed his thumb on one, causing the black glass to glow with his
thumbprint, then punched in a code and turned a knob. “Captain Tagnon. This is
Warsong,” he said, speaking into the panel.

She
didn’t see the speaker at first—it was only a small hole. Static returned to
them. Jerik turned the knob, increasing the volume. “Tagnon? Respond if you
hear me.”

They
waited, but received no response. Jerik rubbed his jaw. “That is…unlike him. I
had a feeling when he chose that zhala…”

“I would
have said alarming,” Samara said. “Should they have reported in by now? And
what do you mean you had a feeling?”

He
looked at her as if he wanted to chew her out, but sat down at the desk instead
and logged onto a thin metallic tablet with a black glass screen. Running his
finger across the surface, he scanned documents and returned it to the desktop.
“His tour is marked. They should be on route back tonight.”

“I want
you to send someone out to look for them,” Samara said. “They aren’t
responding. That’s not good.”

Jerik
leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “On whose
authority?”

“On
Princess Adrienne’s authority. Get her on the phone. Or radio. Or whatever
y’all call it. I’ll talk to her.”

He
barked a laugh, setting her nerves on edge and making her grit her teeth. “One
does not simply make a
call
to the princess of the city. Not if one
wants to retain his freedom. You go through the proper channels and bring me
authorization and then I will do as you ask. Until then, take yourselves back
to the pampered comfort of the palace where you belong. This is where men
handle business. Women do not belong here.” He stood, towering over her and
looking down with that smug grin that begged for a fist right in the middle of
it.

Cyndy
made a gasp in the background. Samara forgot she was supposed to be batting her
lashes, looking demure. Without realizing it, she’d clenched her hands into
fists and felt rage boil inside her, heating her forehead and cheeks with fiery
anger and frustration. She was two seconds from unleashing her wrath upon Jerik
the jerk. “No,” she said.

He
stared at her. “You have no authority here. Leave.”

“Give me
a ride. I’ll go look for them myself. Or stay on the horn until they answer.
You’re not getting rid of me this easily. I’m patient. I can wait a long time
for what I want.”

Jerik pointed
toward the door with a thundercloud frown. “Leave or I will have you removed.”

She
raised her arms, palms up, and thrust her chest forward, daring him with her
bold stance. “Touch me and you’ll draw back a nub. Are you really going to
leave two people out there when they might need help? Are you stupid or just
that big of an asshole that you can’t admit you’re wrong here? Well? The ball’s
in your court, Jerik. What you gonna do?”

***

Either
he was already dead or he would be when she got through with him. The mist from
the falls and the moss-edged stone made for a treacherous race down the last of
the stairs. She felt no relief at the bottom, only this sick feeling deep in
the pit of her stomach. Jasmine dropped the bags and rushed to the edge of the
pool, kicking off her shoes as she scanned the rippling water for signs of the
idiot male. His broken body wasn’t floating along the top, and she wasn’t sure
if that was good or bad.

Seconds
passed like minutes as she searched without success, and she knew she couldn’t
wait any longer if he needed rescue—it might already be too late. She inhaled a
deep breath, preparing to plunge into the water to search for his dead body. Suddenly
Dar burst through the surface right in front of her, slinging water in every
direction. The huge grin combined with his heave of air alternately made her
want to grab and kiss him because he was all right…and then punch him in the
eye for nearly giving her a heart attack.

“I’ll
kill you,” she gasped in surprise, clutching her chest as if it would stop her
heart from overexertion. “You need—”

Her
tirade cut off mid-sentence as he jumped off the bottom of the pool like a
freaking merman, grabbed her thigh, and used his weight to drag her in with
him. She sucked in a breath just as the cool water closed over her head. Her
thick curly hair immediately plastered against her face like tentacles, and she
swept the tangled mass back to open her eyes underwater. Light glinted above,
refracting and making the water ripples shine like jewels. Kicking her legs,
she swam to the surface, breaking through and gasping for air.

Dar
caught her around the waist, behind her, spinning her in the water until she
faced him. She smacked his shoulder, earning a deep chuckle.

“I
should rip that smile off your face,” she growled, pushing against his chest.
He tightened his arms around her, keeping her from escape. “How dare you scare
me like that!”

He
tsked. “So violent. Aren’t you glad to see I’m alive?” He freed one hand long
enough to push her wet hair back from her forehead. “This is a good look for
you. Wet and angry.”

“You’re
such a dumbo. You even think about what you do before you do it?”

“I used
to come here as a boy. I’ve dived the falls many times. There’re even caves
beneath the water for exploring. If you’re brave enough.”

She
squirmed in his arms, noticing that his great size made her feel small against
him. She was used to being as tall as a man, and not much smaller. His broad
chest and thick biceps were so out of the norm in her experience, she couldn’t
help being intrigued and attracted. Mentally berating herself for cataloguing
his assets, she switched back to an offense. “It’s still stupid. You’re too old
for crazy antics.” His dimple showed. She would not be charmed by it.

He swam
in a circle with her, changing her viewpoint to the cascading water. With the
lush green framing the pool and falls, ornamented by the occasional exotically
colored blossom, the spot looked as if it was plucked from a postcard of Hawaii
or some other tropical locale. If she hadn’t still been reeling from the
adrenaline rush, she would have found the entire ordeal romantic. She couldn’t
let him know that, of course.

“You’re
never too old for having fun.” His voice dropped an octave, and he ran his
hands down her back, teasing the top of her buttocks. “Don’t you like enjoying
yourself?”

“Let me
go,” she said, continuing to fight against his hold. Now she was cold and wet. Her
hair would never dry! She might as well resign herself to hours of tangles and
brushing after what he’d done. She was beyond pissed. Reluctantly, or perhaps
because of her seething breathing and frown, he released her with a heavy sigh.
She swam to the rock ledge he’d pulled her off of and crawled out of the water
with difficulty. Dar was right behind her, and with his level of physical
fitness, he moved with surprising speed. She was still on her knees when he
launched himself towards her, taking her down on a bed of moss. A cringe
inducing squeak escaped her, and she landed on her chest and hands with the
scent of earthy water and moss seeping into the front of her shirt.

Jasmine
rolled, half-heartedly kicking Dar in the head. She was more interested in
stunning him than causing any real damage. He made a strangled yelping sound
and closed the distance with shocking agility, landing on top of her just hard
enough to lock her into place.