Alien Mine (28 page)

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Authors: Marie Dry

BOOK: Alien Mine
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"What happens after the special food is eaten?"

 

"Then you pick me up in your arms and carry me off to bed."

 

He laid her down on the bed and settled beside her. "And then?"

 

Natalie couldn't come up with one intelligent sentence. His beautiful chest was right in front of her. She leaned over and kissed it, swirling her tongue over the ridges and hollows that never failed to intrigue her.

 

"And then we wing it," she mumbled against his delicious skin.

 

"Wing it?"

 

"Uhm, I kiss and caress your whole body." She bit back a triumphant smile at her quick thinking.

 

"You may continue," he said magnanimously. "I like your making love."

 

"Well, thank you very much, I think I will." She dipped her head lower and realized for the first time he had no belly button. She'd ask him about it later, now she only wanted to play as long as she could before he exploded and took over. Maybe this time she'd get to finish exploring his beautiful body.

 

"Did I ever tell you I love your body?"

 

"I have noticed."

 

She felt heat in her cheeks and kissed his chest again to hide her burning face.

 

"I like Natlia's body as well."

 

He surged beneath her and she found herself lying on her back with him braced over her.

 

"Now I show you Zyrgin lovemaking." He bent his head and kissed her and she didn't even think to object to him taking over.

 

***

 

Almost a month later, Azagor rushed into the cave, half carrying a bleeding Zurian. Natalie followed them into the doctor's enclosure. Mean alien or not, she couldn't do less for him than she had for Azagor. Apart from glaring at her, he'd never harmed her. She'd assumed he'd told Zacar about her inhaler but maybe he didn't even realize what it was.

 

Zurian didn't grunt or moan. He didn't even lie down on the narrow cot the doctor had erected in his enclosure. Greenish-red blood spurted from a wound high on his shoulder. The doctor was snarling something at him. Even with her translator acting up and refusing to allow her to understand the words, she knew the doctor was fed up over something.

 

"I wish to ask a question of you," Zurian said. His voice was very clipped and precise and he didn't seem to notice Viglar working on his wound.

 

It took a moment before she realized he was addressing her. The only one who had dared speak to her was Azagor. "I--all right," she stuttered.

 

Zurian stared straight ahead of him. "Would a human woman be willing to become the woman of a creature she considers ugly in exchange for food and safety." He stared in front of him, his jaw clenched. "In exchange for being looked after really well?"

 

She almost fell over, she was so surprised. He was the last alien she'd expected to ask something like that. Azagar maybe, but never Zurian.

 

Zacar had said no woman would want him in his natural form. Why would they believe human women found them ugly? It was so sad to think that these self-assured warriors, who could take on a whole camp of heavily-armed raiders, doubted that a woman would ever want them. Though that fear hadn't stopped Zacar from claiming
her
.

 

She stood on her toes to get right in his face and jabbed her forefinger into his chest. "Don't call yourself an ugly creature, Zurian. You're a handsome, strong warrior, with a lot to offer a woman." She hoped. Her finger ached. She looked in horror at her forefinger jabbing the chest of an alien who always looked ready to kill. "Uh, like I said, you have a lot to offer." Her face burned and she took a nervous step back.

 

That was really stupid
, she told herself. But it was just that his words had reminded her of the times in school, when she'd been taunted for being too tall, too pale, and too weak because of her asthma. This proud warrior shouldn't have to apologise for being who he was.

 

The warrior bowed respectfully but his lip curled. She wouldn't dwell on what that curl meant. The doctor took out his blowtorch. Natalie hesitated a moment, then put her arms awkwardly around Zurian's stiff shoulders. He might not flinch when that horrible instrument singed his skin but it had to hurt. When it was over, she impulsively kissed him on the forehead. He stiffened even more and focused on something behind her.

 

"Your men have to stop going out to kill raiders," she said, knowing Zacar stood behind her as the hairs on the nape of her neck were standing up.

 

"They are warriors."

 

She turned to face him, found him standing directly in front of her. "Aren't you afraid to be discovered? There are only four of you. If the army comes after you, you'll be in serious trouble." It still surprised her no one had picked up their spaceship on radar or something.

 

A strange look came and went in his eyes at her mention of the army. "They want their own breeders."

 

For a moment, she didn't understand. When she did, her heart nearly stopped and she took a deep breath. "Is that why they keep going out to kill raiders?"

 

"Before they can take a breeder, they have to earn the right."

 

"Like when you saved me from that camp." It boggled the mind that raiders were being killed, probably by the hundreds, by aliens who wanted to earn the right to human women.

 

"Yes."

 

"Why are you telling me?" Nothing in the way Zacar had treated her up to now had given her the impression he would listen to a woman's opinion. Especially about matters of war. And if they were going to go around kidnapping women, it would come to war. With her right in the middle.

 

"You have to convince Earth women to come to us in exchange for protection," he said, as if it was a perfectly reasonable request. He waited with an expectant air for her to agree.

 

She looked down at her feet to hide her appalled expression. "Umm, maybe I can talk to some of my friends after the winter, when the snow melts. Some of them might want to come here."

 

That at least gave her a few months to think up another plan. She only had one friend, but they didn't need to know that. She could imagine Julia's face if she told her she wanted to introduce her to a copper alien, with eyes that turned red when he made love or war. Oh, and he turned green, too. Although it might solve some of Julia's problems. And maybe she could steer her toward Azagor.

 

"We take the women now. My warriors can fuck during winter and have little warriors when the snow melts."

 

Natalie put her head in her hands and laughed hysterically. He was so serious, as if he'd come to a very logical and reasonable conclusion.

 

"Why do you laugh?"

 

"You would never understand," she said between giggles.

 

"I would."

 

That set her off again and she laughed until her sides ached. She knew her laughter was mostly hysterical. Suddenly, she hung in the air between Zacar's hands, his red eyes staring her down. This time they weren't glowing with passion.

 

"Explain why you laugh."

 

"Really, Zacar, it's a female thing. You just won't get it. A man couldn't understand," she said with casual bravado.

 

When his eyes slowly bled back to fathomless black, she let out a soft sigh of relief.

 

"I have seen my woman," Zurian said.

 

If she hadn't known better, Natalie would've thought he was trying to distract Zacar.

 

Holding her in his arms, Zacar turned to the scarred warrior. Natalie held her breath. Who'd caught this surly warrior's eye? She just couldn't imagine him being as gentle and caring as Zacar.

 

"Where?" Zacar asked.

 

"In town. She is very tiny but pretty. Her hair is like the metal called gold mined on this planet."

 

He'd gone into town while the snow lay meters deep? Her laughter dried up. Julia and Sarah were the only tiny, blonde women in town she could think of.

 

"I went to town to look for her when I saw her on your breeder's primitive communication device," Zurian said.

 

"Who are you calling primitive," Natalie mumbled, but very softly.

 

The thought of this cruel warrior getting his hands on Julia terrified her. She might've said he had a lot to offer a woman, but she'd been thinking of some desperate woman who'd be grateful for the protection, someone they'd rescued from the raiders.

 

"That's my friend, Julia. If you kidnap her, the whole army would come to rescue her." While she wished her words held some truth, she doubted anyone in town would even report her friend missing. Those fanatics from The Coming Sect had been terrorizing the town for years now with no one caring.

 

She could've slapped herself. Instead of discouraging the aliens, she could almost see them strapping on their weapons. "Promise me you will give her a choice?" Silence greeted her and she bit her lip. It was difficult enough speaking up with all of them looking at her. "Promise me," she insisted.

 

"I will be a good provider. Protect the little golden female." Was that tenderness in Zurian's voice?

 

"Human women want to have a choice. Look at how I captured Zacar. If you don't give her a choice, she'll never love you." Zurian didn't look worried about being loved at all.

 

Zacar gently covered her mouth with his big hand. "Enough, Natlia." He picked her up and carried her to their tent.

 

For the next few hours, she forgot that her friend was in danger of being kidnapped. She didn't even notice that the sneaky alien stole an extra hour.

 

Chapter 13

 

A few days later, she woke up when Zacar leaned over her and pressed his forehead against hers.

 

"Good morning," she said while lying perfectly still. The winter was speeding by in a haze of long, heated hours of lovemaking, cocooned in her tent with Zacar. When he wasn't working in the new cave, he insisted on his bargained-for four hours. Not that he had to insist very hard. Her alien might not say any sweet words to her but he sure knew how to make sweet love.

 

"Good morning, my breeder."

 

She stifled a groan as her belly did flip-flops. Obviously, her birth control had not worked against his alien sperm, and she was too worried about losing the content of her stomach to care that he'd called her that disgusting name. Sometimes she wondered if he did it to see her reaction.

 

Physically, they were as close as two people could get. But although he carefully fed her and watched over her every move, emotionally, they were still oceans apart.

 

It had been awhile since Azagor said she should ask Zacar about his mother and she was still working up the courage to do it. Whenever she thought about what could've happened to his mother, nothing good presented itself. If only she knew more about their customs and history. But whenever she asked about his planet or people, Zacar clammed up.

 

It was as if he came into the world a fully grown warrior. He would listen when she talked of her childhood, his face expressionless, and she never knew if he enjoyed listening to her.

 

"Are you off to practice?" she asked.

 

He and the others practiced with their swords every morning without fail. These last few days she'd been very grateful for that habit. It meant he left their tent early, allowing her to hide her morning queasiness from him.

 

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers again. "Yes, do you come to watch today?"

 

Natalie swallowed as her stomach let her know it was time to make a run for the bathroom. Even so, she felt her cheeks warm. She'd watched Zacar and the others do their sword practice a few times and he'd noticed how avidly she'd looked at their movements.

 

She nodded. "Go, I'm sure the others are waiting for you."

 

He grunted and left the tent. When she was sure he'd left the cave she went to the bathroom and lost the contents of her stomach. To take her mind off her queasiness while she bathed, she tried to figure out why her translator was acting up. Whenever she mentioned it, Zacar made love to her until she became a walking pleasure zone, with no brains left to question him. Why she didn't understand them when they were far away from her or why he didn't trust her with their spaceship--the taboo topics mounted up.

 

She felt better after she'd taken a shower and brushed her teeth. Her stomach settled even more after she went to the kitchen to eat some vitamin cookies. So far that had been the only food that settled her stomach. Her father had bought them in bulk from one of his mysterious sources. Luckily, they had a shelf life of twenty years.

 

Feeling human again, she returned to her tent. Once inside, she stood in front of the mirror examining her body, with her hand on her stomach. Satisfied that she didn't look pregnant, she opened the chest and took out the jacket Zacar had given her. The most comfortable garment she'd ever had, it was made from the same material as their uniforms. He'd given it to her the day after Azagor got wounded. He'd done it without a word, without ceremony, but she had the feeling it was a silent thank you for caring about his warrior. If they could produce a jacket in her size, they could make her a pair of boots like theirs as well. Maybe not as heavy, but if they were from the same material, they would keep out cold, water, and snow.

 

None of the others were around and, for once, she got to eat breakfast by herself. It was strange being able to use a knife and fork again after being fed for so long. Whatever Zacar was busy with had to be really important. Normally, he watched her like a hawk during meals. She still couldn't figure out why he insisted on feeding her.

 

She was on her way to the hothouse to water her plants when Zacar staggered in, blood spurting from his shoulder. She stared at him. The water bottle in her hand slipped from her grasp, crashing to the cave floor. A weakness came over her muscles and her ears rang. She stood rooted to the spot, using precious minutes as she fought to get her body moving.

 

"W--what on earth happened? Where's the doctor?" She looked around and saw Viglar with his little silver instrument hurrying over to Zacar, a truly strange look on his normally emotionless face. She ran to Zacar and hovered, holding his hand, while the doctor worked on him.

 

After what seemed like forever, the doctor and Zacar grunted at each other. She was about to scream at Viglar to do something when he nodded, held his instrument to Zacar's shoulder, and proceeded to treat the wound. He took out the blow torch and she tightened her grip on Zacar's hand. He was so big she ended up braced under his uninjured shoulder, her arm tight around his waist.

 

She avoided looking at what the doctor was doing and crooned to Zacar, kissing his forehead. To her surprise, he allowed her to cuddle him in front of his warriors. Heavy and warm, he leaned some of his bulk against her. She had to brace her feet apart not to stagger, but nothing would have induced her to let go of him. She'd hold him until her arms fell off.

 

Azagor came in to stand at the door and she realized something. "You guys better watch out for Tuesdays. This is the third time one of you got wounded on a Tuesday." She awkwardly turned her arm and frowned down at her watch. "That's strange. It's almost exactly the same time of day as well."

 

Zurian grunted something and the doctor grunted back. Neither one of them looked at her. Azagor and Zurian busied themselves, arranging medical instruments on the doctor's table. Zacar got subtly heavier in her arms while he grunted at the others.

 

By now, she had a very good idea what was wrong with her implant. Nothing. They were simply speaking a different language than the one her translator could understand. They switched so fluently between the language that sounded more like grunts and throat clearing than talking and the language she understood, she wasn't surprised it took her this long to figure out what they'd done.
Those jerks
! But Zacar was injured so she couldn't scold him about it now.

 

She looked up at him and kissed his cheek. He had to hurt terribly but he didn't even tremble. "How did you get wounded?"

 

"Raiders," he said briefly.

 

After a quick look at the others, he leaned even more of his weight into her. She loved holding him like this, but her arms shook from the strain.

 

When Zurian walked out, Zacar stood with an abrupt movement and Natalie frowned at him. "Where are you going? You need to lie down and rest."

 

"I have to get back to work, Natlia."

 

He leaned down and kissed her sweetly on the mouth. A soft, almost
thank you
kiss. Her hormones went wild and, if the others hadn't been standing around, she'd have climbed his body like a tree.

 

"No, you have to recuperate." His tough skin had been pierced by who knew what kind of weapon? And Viglar had just taken a blow torch to his skin. He could still get a fever. Besides, she wanted him to herself, to pamper him and look after him.

 

"I am fixed." He pressed his forehead against hers then walked away without looking back.

 

"Zacar!"

 

In the doorway, he stopped and turned back toward her. "Yes, Natlia?"

 

"The implant you gave me isn't working." He'd brushed it off every time she brought it up, and now she knew why. But he wasn't going to get away with it this time.

 

"Why do you think this?" he asked and glanced over to where Azagor and Viglar huddled over an instrument mounted on the wall, trying to look innocent. Viglar fiddled with his silver gadget while Azagor tried to appear interested in what the doctor was doing.

 

How stupid did they think she was? "Whenever you don't want me to know what you're saying to each other, you speak in that growly language. And when it's okay for the little woman to know, you speak in a language I can understand." She pressed her nails into her palms until sharp pain speared her hand. "You'd do it so well, it took me a long time to catch on." She would keep talking until he admitted that he'd been keeping her in the dark.

 

They stared at each other, until she had to battle the urge to furiously blink her eyelids.

 

"Your implant translates standard galactic," he admitted. "That is the language most races in our galaxy speak." He took her arm and walked her out of Viglar's enclosure. Dazed at getting an answer that easily, she looked around and saw they were at the entrance to the room holding her tent.

 

Did he trust her a little? Was that why he was answering her now? "So what do you speak?"

 

"We speak the old language." He didn't sound trusting. More as if the words escaped from his mouth without his permission.

 

"And this old language is the language of your planet, Zyrgin?" Maybe she could study his language until she at least understood their growling. If she was going to spend a lifetime with Zacar, she wanted to at least understand his language.

 

He stood straight, his demeanour formal. "Yes, we speak the old language."

 

"Why didn't you program my implant to interpret the old language?"

 

As if she didn't know. They wanted to keep her ignorant. Even more important, they obviously had something to hide. The face of the strange alien in the hologram flashed through her mind. Could they be planning an invasion? What would she do if they were?

 

"It is forbidden to allow outsiders to understand the old language."

 

"I thought I was more to you than simply an outsider." She seriously doubted his ability to love like a human man would. But she'd thought he cared for her and trusted her at least a little.

 

"You are my breeder."

 

"What does that even mean? You always avoid my question. I'm some breeding machine? A slave?" Throwing her hands up, she paced in front of him.

 

"It means you belong to me," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. With his legs planted wide and his massive arms crossed like that, he was an impressive sight.

 

"Why implant me with a useless device when you make sure not to speak around me anyway?" For now, she'd let the breeder thing go. She needed some sign from him, however small, that she had his trust. She needed it more than her next breath.

 

"It is not useless. You can communicate with us and any other alien you might meet."

 

"Oh, that's very funny. Like the Earth is just crawling with different kinds of aliens." The silence from him had her do a double take. "You are the only aliens around, right?"

 

He hesitated then nodded.

 

She didn't like his hesitation but let it go for now. She had another gripe. "What if your alien implant didn't work on humans? You could've killed me." Or worse, she could've ended up a vegetable.

 

"I would never implant you without testing first." He straightened his arms and drew his warrior body up. He glared at her, outraged.

 

Oh, yes, he'd mentioned that before he'd implanted it, but at the time the full implications hadn't registered. "You tested it? On a human? Like you did with the vitamins?" Please let him say they did it with a computer simulation, like they used to test pilots when planes still flew. She didn't want to be responsible for some hapless human having the bad luck to be experimented on.

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