Captured: Warriors of Hir, Book 1 (2 page)

His forehead was rippled—that was the only word for it—and his brow ridges heavy. The cheekbones of his square-jawed face were high, his mouth full. It was a masculine face, a fierce, terrifying one.

And it
wasn’t
human.

His eyes were unlike any eyes should be. From beneath black eyebrows they glowed an electric blue color, fixed on her like a predator’s.

His full lips drew back to reveal the sharp, long canines of a beast and his roar shattered the peaceful woods.

Screaming, Jenna fell backward into the snow, the branch torn from her hand. He pulled a weapon from the holster at his hip and she scrambled back as he came toward her, snarling. 

She threw her hand up to protect her face as he leveled the weapon at her and fired—

Two

Jenna groaned.

She forced her eyes open a little, wincing against the throbbing in her head as the beamed ceiling of her bedroom came into focus. She recognized the familiar feel of her mattress beneath her, the softness of her old patchwork quilt under her palm, the feather pillow cradling her head.

Jenna swallowed against the painful, raw dryness in her mouth. The door to her room was open a crack. The fire she’d lit earlier was still burning but it was dark outside now.

She’d felt woozy like this once before, when she’d gotten real sick with the flu. So ill that Pap had to take her to the hospital for IV fluids, his chocolate brown eyes, so like her own, reflecting his worry even as he made up stories about the doctors and nurses being spies, deep under cover, to distract both of them.

Jenna tried to sit up now and couldn’t.

Her right wrist was cuffed to the bedpost. 

Startled to full wakefulness, she blinked in astonishment at the restraint holding her. They might be doing the job of handcuffs but they sure didn’t look like any she’d ever seen. By the faint light coming in through the partly opened bedroom door, the cuffs were a light gray metal. The cuff around her wrist was wide as four of her fingers and fit her wrist with perfect smoothness. At the end of a thick cord the other handcuff—if it could be called that—was thicker, narrow, and wrapped solidly around the wooden bedpost.

The image of that creature out in the woods flashed through her mind.

He shot me!

Her hand went to her chest, her ribs, but there was no wound and she didn’t feel any pain.

Some kind of stun gun?

She was alone in the bedroom but it took her only a moment to put together it was probably
he
who had cuffed her. That meant he might still be nearby. He could be in the house right now and she was manacled to the bed!

Oh, God! Oh, God!

She was still clad in her jeans and sweater but her boots and socks were off, her white jacket thrown across the chair near the bedroom door. Her glance darted around the room only to find everything else looked as she had left it this morning.

The clock on the bedside table read 8:37. That meant she’d been knocked out for almost six hours.

She strained to hear but couldn’t detect anything other than her own shallow breathing and the crackling of the fire in the living room. 

I have to get out of here!

Heart hammering, she tugged hard, wincing at the noise the cord made as it scraped against the wood. She rolled onto her right side and felt around the cuff with her left hand for a catch but the thing felt as smooth as if it had been formed around her wrist.

Heavy footsteps crossed the living room, heading her way and sending her heart racing even faster. Jenna pulled against the bedpost, shaking the bed to a rattle in her desperation.

The door swung open. Jenna gave a cry, cowering against the headboard as a huge form filled the doorway.

She trembled there, drawing quick, frightened breaths, but he didn’t move toward her. Backlit by the fire as he was, she couldn’t make out anything but a shadowy outline. Still, from the size of him there was no question it was the same beast she’d seen in the forest.

Not being able to see anything but that huge black shadow was unbearable. After a few moments, Jenna reached a shaking hand toward the bedside table and yanked the lamp’s thin metal chain.

He startled when the light cut on. His wild black hair shook a bit with his flinch and he gave a fang-flashing snarl at the sudden illumination in the room.

God, it was better with the light off . . .

His eyes had round black pupils like a human’s but the irises glowed in an absolutely eerie inhuman way as they fixed on her. He was also every bit as huge and broad-shouldered as she remembered. Through his close-cut dark brown clothing she could see the shape of his powerful muscles. His hands looked like they could crush rocks.

The existence-bending fact that there was a living, breathing, intelligent being
that wasn’t human
standing in her bedroom was blotted out by her realization he also was still armed. The gun belt was worn at his hip and strapped onto his muscular thigh. The weapon he’d used on her earlier was holstered there too.

But he didn’t move toward her or reach for his gun.  Her body was curled in a tight, uncomfortable pose and after a few heartbeats she risked shifting her position a bit.

“What—what do you want?” she got out.

He tilted his head.

“What do you want?” Jenna demanded, louder this time.

He took a step toward her and she whimpered, cringing against the bed pillows and headboard.

He stopped short. His lips drew back, his fangs wickedly sharp in the light, and he gave soft, low growl.

“Please . . .” Jenna wet her lips. “Please don’t hurt me.”

He pivoted, gone from the room so swiftly that she was left blinking. For someone that huge he moved really goddamned
fast
.

The restraint around her wrist was some kind of metal, weirdly warm to the touch and smooth. Interesting and all—she would be thrilled to ponder it further once she got the hell out of here. Her frenzied pulls and fumbling searches for the catch weren’t getting her anywhere.

So I’ll break the fucking bedpost!

She wasn’t sure how long he would be gone and he knew she was conscious so subtlety be damned. She got on her knees and threw her weight against the headboard, knocking it into the wall, but it was good North Carolina pine and the bedpost too thick to crack. Chewing her lips, she tried to slide the restraint upwards around the bedpost instead. There was a decorative knob there; carved, not screwed on, but maybe she could—

One moment he wasn’t there in the doorway, the next he was. Jenna gave a short startled cry at his sudden reappearance and froze, still straining to get the manacle past the bedpost knob.

His unnerving glance took in her position against the headboard then met her eyes again. He held her gaze as he approached; his movements were as smooth as a stalking panther, startling in someone his size.

He’d looked big before; this close he made her five-foot, eight-inch frame seem positively delicate. The bed dipped under his weight as he knelt on the quilt, facing her, but even in this position he loomed over her. She caught the scent of him then, warm, male, almost cinnamon-like. 

Jenna flinched as his hand came up toward her face and he froze. After a few heartbeats where he stayed disconcertingly still, he reached for her again, slower this time. Jenna could feel her lips trembling as he stroked her hair.

His fingers felt calloused as he touched her temple, tracing along her skin, skimming the curve of her cheek to her jaw. He tilted her chin up, the pad of his thumb running over her chinbone as he studied her face.

His electric blue gaze met hers.

Then, very softly, so softly it seemed half purr, he growled.

The sound vibrated through her body and sent a startling, tingling rush of warmth through her belly to tighten her center. On the heels of that wave her breasts felt heavy, her nipples nearly as sensitive as her clit suddenly felt.

Heat flashed in his vivid eyes and her face warmed at the realization that he knew exactly what her reaction to his rumble had been. She wet her lips and his eyes were drawn immediately there, his gaze now fixed on her mouth.

It had been a long time since she’d been with anyone. Tending her grandfather during his illness, running the bakery, then moving up here to see to it Pap left this life in the comfort and dignity of his own home had been way more important than getting, or keeping, a boyfriend. Two years without so much as a kiss had to be why she’d even be
thinking
—

Jenna cleared her throat and the alien seemed startled by the sound. She tore her gaze away from those gleaming blue eyes for an instant to send a pointed look at her manacled wrist.

“Please let me go.”

His gaze was unnervingly intent on hers.

“Just let me go, okay?” she whispered, pulling against the restraint.

He had a strap across his chest and as he lifted it she realized he had gone to get a pack of the same dark brown leather as his clothing. He put the bag on the bed and she turned her body toward him as he shifted to sit beside her.

He opened the satchel and rifled around before pulling out a soft pouch about the size of his hand. He fiddled with it for a moment then detached a straw-like tube and brought it to her mouth.

She reared back. “What’s that?”

He looked puzzled as he examined the tube for a moment. Apparently concluding that
it
wasn’t the problem he tried to push the thing at her mouth again.

She twisted her head away and he made a huffing, frustrated noise.

With slow, deliberate movements he put the tube into his own mouth and drew on it. He held her gaze as if trying to make sure she understood then took the straw from his mouth and put it to hers.

“No thanks,” she stammered, trying to evade the tube. “Look, I don’t want a drink. I want you to get this damned thing off me.” For emphasis she yanked against the restraint.

He glanced at her wrist. He growled and jerked his chin at her.

Then he held the straw to her mouth again, his eyes bright, leaning forward as if to urge her on. 

Jenna nipped the inside of her lip. Whatever was in that bag might be just dandy for aliens and real bad news for humans. But maybe if she played along she could get the restraints off and make it to Pap’s rifle or out the front door.

“Okay, I guess we’ll try it your way,” she muttered and let him put the tube in her mouth.

Expecting some kind of disgusting alien sludge she was surprised to find it was simply water. She was parched but didn’t want to drink too much of it, just in case it had some weird alien microbes in it or something. But just the little bit she took seemed to satisfy him.

He put the water bag back into his pack and took out a different container. When he unsealed it, she caught the scent of unfamiliar spices and meat. He broke off a piece between his thumb and forefinger then held it out to her.

“Uh, no, thanks.”

He growled and touched it to her lips.

Jenna glanced nervously at whatever it was he held to her mouth but she didn’t see that she had much in the way of options here.

“Fine,” she said. “Making friends, right?”

She opened her mouth so he could feed her the morsel. 

“Mmmm,” she said, exaggerating the
yum
sound for him as she chewed, and he really did look pleased about that. Actually it wasn’t bad; it tasted a bit like beef jerky. “Delicious, really. Now, maybe you could take the handcuff off me?”

He leaned toward her, his huge hand pressing into the mattress beside her, and with shocked awareness Jenna realized he was going to kiss her. She felt the heat radiating off his body, and breathed in the warmth of his masculine, cinnamon scent as he bent his head toward hers.