Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2 (14 page)

R’har waited, sinking into that stillness of his again, so silent and steady he could have been carved from marble.

Hope gritted her teeth; the man had patience Gandhi would envy.

“When I was eight I had my tonsils out,” she mumbled finally. “I mean, I always
hated
getting shots, my mother said I embarrassed her with how I would scream, but that’s when it really got bad.”

“You have endured this—alone—for a long time,” he said with a slow, human-style nod.

“Yes,” she croaked. Brian had been annoyed and embarrassed by her fears. She’d endured lots of ribbing from friends and the impatient frustration of doctors and nurses—and especially her parents—through the years. “Yes, I have.”

“I know your fear to be real, little one. I know you feel yourself in danger, even now.” He searched her eyes. “But on my word as a warrior of Hir, on my vow as your lifemate, I would never harm you, Hope. I would never allow you to be harmed. I would die first.”

“I know,” she blurted, surprised by her own admission, at how completely she believed him. She shook her head. “But I’m sorry I just—I can’t . . .”

“I ask you to trust me.” He offered his hand to her. “Even though your instincts scream at you that you are in danger, that you are not safe. Will you? Will you trust me to care for you? To protect you?”

Her eyes stung and she glanced at the hand he offered. “I’m scared, R’har. I’m so scared.”

“I know,” he rumbled softly. “But I am here. And I will always stand between you and danger, my Hope.”

Looking at this alien warrior standing unabashedly naked, his glowing eyes gentle, his hand held out to her, Hope felt her tears overflow.

“Oh, fucking hell,” she muttered thickly and took R’har’s hand.

Fourteen

Hope recoiled, whimpering.

“The scanner will pass a light over you that penetrates tissue but it will not hurt,” R’har rumbled, his growls soft, soothing.

He’d coaxed her back onto the biobed but it took all her will to stay there. Her grip on his hand was so tight her fingernails must be nearly drawing blood by now but he hadn’t complained.

“How do you know that this thing can even heal me?” she demanded. “I’m human, not g’hir. Maybe it’ll just scramble my organs up.”

“I treated you with this equipment once before,” he reminded. “It has been calibrated to treat humans.”

Of course. The ever-helpful Jenna. Someday she and I are going to have a talk about her handing her own kind over to aliens . . .

“I promise, little one, the medscan is painless.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, just do it!” Hope tensed as the light ran down her body but he wasn’t lying, it didn’t hurt. Then something else occurred to her. “But you can’t strap me down again! You have to swear you won’t!”

“I will not,” he assured. “I would never have let you regain consciousness here if I had known this room caused you such terror.”

“Yeah, remembering that I was
un
conscious in here is kind of freaking me out,” she said, biting back another whimper as the light passed over her again. “Why does it have to keep doing that?”

“It scans at multiple depths to determine the extent of your injuries and evaluate how best to treat them.”

“Wonderful. Yay for the scary alien light. Isn’t it fucking
done
yet?”

“Pause scan.”

The scanner held position and Hope twisted her head around to look up at him. His shirt was a total loss but he’d gotten dressed from the waist down while she kept hold of the sheet for the exam.

“Why’d you stop it?”

“Your breathing is very shallow,” he said and rested his warm palm on her lower belly. “Allow yourself to breathe deeper.”

“Can’t we just get this over with?” she cried. “I just want to get
out
of here!”

“Breathe so that you lift my hand. It will help you feel more comfortable here.”

Fucking
nothing
was going to make her comfortable here but R’har was already doing that still-and-silent-as-a-Zen-garden thing again, patient as time itself.

“Fine,” she grumbled and sucked in hard.

“Pause there,” he said when she’d filled her lungs.

“I’m not a computer!”

“You must pause in your breathing,” he said, unperturbed by her snappy tone. “Then let it out slowly.”

She didn’t see as she had much choice with his hand on her stomach like this. He wasn’t about to let her leave with even the littlest mark on her and the sooner he got the scanner back on the sooner she could get out of here.

“I’m dizzy,” she complained after several breaths.

“You are over-breathing. Pause longer between the inhale and exhale.”

“You know, it really is only a bruise. Maybe we should worry about something more important right now? Like the Zerar maybe?”

“We are safe for the present and nothing is more important than you are,” he rumbled. “You require medical treatment and you will have the healing you need. Breathe.”

She tried again, slowing her breathing even more, but it wasn’t helping much.

“Is there a place where you know yourself protected?” he asked.

She gave a short laugh. “Go to my ‘safe place,’ you mean?” At the puzzled look he gave her, she waved her hand. “Never mind.” Looking up at the scanner, deactivated but hovering ominously above, was making her hands clench. She shut her eyes briefly so she could think clearly enough to answer him and only one place came to mind. “I guess I always felt safe in my room growing up.”

“I have not asked you where you spent your childhood.” He gave her a faint smile. “It was not the wilderness in which I found you, I know that much.”

“Yeah,
no
. I’m definitely a city girl, born and bred. My mom had a place in Takoma Park. A big, old house with about a million plumbing problems. That area was kinda run down then, lots of hippies, but it was nice too, especially in the summer ’cause Rock Creek Park isn’t far away. When I was thirteen my mom managed a couple weeks off from the hospital so we painted my room. We tried to wallpaper it first.” She smiled, remembering. “But we were terrible at it and a day in we decided to start over with paint. We did the room a real pale violet color and we found some embroidered curtains at a resale shop in Alexandria. We painted the furniture white and did a darn good job too. We didn’t get along too well, my mom and me, but that time  . . . that was fun.” She shook her head a little. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but this is actually helping.”

“Are you ready for the scan to continue?” He must have felt her tense up again because he added, “We can talk while the scan is performed. It will not affect the results.”

“What about your hand?” she asked, glancing at her stomach where his palm still rested lightly. “Don’t you have to move it?”

“I can instruct the computer to ignore it if you like.”

“Yeah, do that,” she said, her throat suddenly tight. “It . . . makes me feel safer.”

She didn’t miss how his eyes lit up at that. The scanner came back online but she knew what to expect this time and while it wasn’t any day on the beach, she managed to unclench her hands at least.

A blue three-dimensional holographic figure—female this time—appeared over the table. Unlike when R’har had been injured, only a few places appeared in red but the diagnosis wasn’t any more reassuring.

“Contusions, trauma to the intervertebral discs of the lumbosacral spine . . .” the computer’s female g’hir voice droned.  “Non-displaced sub cortical fracture . . .”

Hope swallowed hard. “Fracture?”

R’har was frowning at the readout. “You have badly bruised your shoulder bone. This is a painful injury; you should have told me.”

She was starting to hyperventilate again. “Aren’t all injuries painful?”

“Yours is far worse than I believed. You should have told me you were in such pain.”

“I can handle it.”

“I think you would not have told me even if the pain were unbearable,” he grumbled. “Because I would have insisted you be treated.”

“What’s the point? Getting treated hurts just as bad or more.”

His huffed his breath through his nostrils in g’hir frustration. His attention returned to the readout and his frown deepened. “Your genetic makeup shows marked differences from that of Ra’kur’s mate.”

“Well, sure. We’re different people.”

“But you are both human females.”

“Yeah, okay, clearly missing something here.” Hope shook her head a little. “What are you talking about? What’s so different?”

“You have a unique mutation.” He pointed at the display. “See here . . .” He pointed again. “And here.”

“Uh, quick reminder—the chip you put in my brain doesn’t let me read your language. And even if it did I’m not a biologist, I’m an artist.”

He was troubled enough by what he was looking at that he gave an absentminded g’hir nod. “Your genetic makeup requires that you receive significantly more pain medication to feel the same relief.”

Hope frowned. “Wait—are you saying pain medication doesn’t work on me?”

“Not nearly as well as the same dose would on Jenna. And this same mutation makes you more sensitive to pain as well. You require a thirty-five percent higher dose to alleviate your pain than would another human female of your weight and build.”

“You mean . . . it’s not all in my head?” she asked tightly. “I’m not making it all up?”

“Your fears are not irrational or unfounded, little one. I do not think those who treated you understood the suffering they were inflicting upon you.” His vivid gaze reflected sympathy. “If my pain were so poorly controlled I, too, would greatly fear any treatment.”

“Oh,” Hope murmured. All those impatient doctors and dentists, all those unsympathetic nurses, her parents too, how Brian could shrug off a shot when she hyperventilated through every agonizing millimeter of needle. “That’s really . . . I mean knowing that maybe it’s not my fault—”

“Is it the pain?” His brow furrowed. “Is that why your eyes water now?”

“Sorry, I’m having kind of an up and down week,” she said, laughing a little.
It’s not my fault! I have a genetic mutation and it’s not my fault!
“But it’s okay, really. Happy tears.”

R’har was still frowning. “I promise your pain medication will be adjusted to the needed dose.” His long fingers brushed at the wetness on her cheek. “I give you my word you will never suffer as you have in the past.”

“Okay,” she said but couldn’t help bracing herself.

“I will begin now.” He hesitated, his gaze searching. “If you will trust me?”

“Yeah,” Hope said, letting her eyes close again briefly, letting her hands unclench again. “I do.”

Fifteen

Hope fought the urge to rub her newly healed shoulder. The medcomp’s treatment had been a cakewalk, not just pain free—for once!—but with R’har’s soothing growls and explanation of what was going to happen before the med comp did it, almost anxiety free.

Her shoulder didn’t hurt now exactly; it just felt sore, as if she’d spent the day at the gym doing side raises or something. Still, massaging it might help . . .

She glanced at R’har. One tiny indication that everything wasn’t sunshine and rainbows and he’d have her right back in that thing. And she had gotten to know g’hir facial expressions a whole lot better since he’d captured her

“So how long?” she asked.

His bright gaze, puzzled now, met hers. “How long for what, little one?”

“Till that Zerar warship figures out they should be looking on Olari for us.”

His shoulders fell. “I thought—”

“What? That I’d forgotten about them? That maybe
they
forgot about
us
?”

“That perhaps I could shield you,” he said with a sigh.

Hope folded her arms. “From what? Reality?”

“From . . .” He gave a frustrated huff. “You should even now be safely within the borders of the Yir enclosure—not here on this abandoned colony with a warship lurking above! It is my task, my
duty
, to keep you safe and I—”

“You didn’t put me in danger. They—the Zerar—did. That’s why we’re here.”

R’har’s hands clenched. “You should not
be
here,” he growled quietly.

Hope indicated the sleeping quarters with a glance. “What now? Are we going to stay here till we’re rescued?”

His gaze met hers and she had her answer.

“No,” she said for him, and passed her hand over her eyes. “Because if the Zerar
do
look for us, staying with the ship is the best way to get captured.”

“We must gather supplies from the ship and forest,” he rumbled. “It is the safest way.”

“Forest—as in wander from place to place and sleep in a tent?”

“G’hir have an instinct to travel,” he said, sounding a bit surprised that she wasn’t jumping at the chance. “We find it very pleasant.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “You know what humans enjoy?
Houses
. With hot running water. And
beds
. You know why I booked that three-bedroom-with-Jacuzzi-and-gourmet-kitchen cabin, R’har? Because I hate camping. I also happen to suck at it.”

“I will make a sleeping place for us under the stars and though I am new to mating I promise I will do all I can”—R’har gave a slow smile that made her center tighten—“to see you enjoy it.”

Then, suddenly, she caught what he’d said.

“Wait—What do you mean you’re
new
at it? You don’t mean
new
new?”

His glowing eyes blinked.

“As in—” Hope got out. “This morning with me . . . that was your first time? Ever?”

His cheeks flushed. “I have brought myself to release.”

“No not—I mean, with a woman—I’m your first?” 

“Of course,” he said, surprised.

Because most of the g’hir women are dead!

“I, uh—” Hope swallowed hard. “I guess I just wasn’t thinking.”

“They told me it was likely you would have had other lovers before me,” he growled quietly.

It troubled him, she could see that, and in a heartrending flash she wished he’d been her first too.

“I promise to improve my skills,” he assured, his brow knitted. “I can scent your heat, detect the changes in your breathing when you are highly aroused. With practice I will learn to please you better.”

“Is that what you’re—?” Hope gave a short disbelieving laugh. “Oh, believe me. You have nothing to worry about on that account. R’har you are the absolute best I’ve ever had.”

His face lit up then, his fangs flashing in a proud grin that just had her heart melting.

“And not that you need it but I sure don’t mind,” she continued, sliding her arms around his waist, “letting you get in some extra practice . . .”

His gaze heated then he gave a rueful smile. “When we are safely forested,” he promised, brushing his nose against hers in a light g’hir’s kiss, “I will make good on my promise to pleasure you greatly.”

“Holy cow,” Hope breathed when she got her first full look at the destruction the crash had wrought from the outside.

“It was a good landing,” R’har rumbled, looking down from their hillside perch at the wreck below.

“A good landing?” she echoed. Half the ship was crushed and the path of destruction they’d left in the landscape during the crash could have taken out two city blocks.

“The ship did not explode on entry,” he offered. “I have never heard of a ship that attempted to jump into an atmosphere that did not. But better to die quickly than let us be taken by the Zerar. The suffering they would have inflicted on you—” He swallowed. “But the All Mother smiled on us.”

Hope scanned the peaceful blue sky, fingering the straps of her backpack nervously. Hers was light. He’d packed it with things that she’d need for her comfort, things to keep her alive on the off chance they were separated, but R’har carried the bulk of their supplies. Most of the clothes provided by the Yir were pretty girly so Hope donned her jeans and hiking boots again. Her pack also contained changes of clothes chosen from the most practical of the Yir selections. “Do you think they’ll come after us?”

“The Zerar are in our territory and this area of space is patrolled. It would be foolish to stay here endlessly searching for one small ship.”

He was trying to reassure her, reassure himself too, probably.

“The communications array was damaged.” Hope bit her lip. “Do you think you get a message out to your people? I mean, someone’s going to come for us, aren’t they?”

“I pray that the Goddess bid it so,” he said tightly. “But I do not know. The Zerar were jamming our communications.”

Hope regarded the smashed wreck. It looked like some native birds were already planning on using it as a nesting site. “I know it’s a real mess but . . . if we can wait the Zerar out and come back can you—I mean do you think you could fix the ship up enough to get us to Hir?”

He shook his head. “I must destroy it.”

“Destroy—? You know, it’s not like there’s a metro station a couple blocks away, R’har! If no one comes for us we don’t have another way out of here. You can’t just maroon us here.” Hope shook her head. “You can’t!”

“The Zerar are still in orbit,” he growled shortly. “If we are fortunate they will soon cease scanning for our ship spaceside and leave g’hir space.” His gaze met hers and his tone softened. “I must choose the path that will see you safe, even if it not comfortable or convenient, little one. The Zerar know they damaged our ship badly. If they scan the surface they
must
find wreckage.”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “So even if they find the ship they’ll think we’re dead.”

“There will be nothing left for them to believe we survived.” He looked in the direction of the mountains. “We will go to the relay station and contact Hir from there. Until then, the forest will keep us safe.” His vivid glance went to the ship.  “I will set off the charges I placed. Once the ship is destroyed, we will go.”

“But won’t the Zerar see that from space?” Hope’s brow creased. “An explosion big enough to blow that thing apart is like a bull’s-eye showing them exactly where we are.”

He shook his head again, his blond hair golden in Olari’s afternoon sunlight. “These charges will superheat the ship. They will be hot enough to partially melt the rock beneath but at this distance the sensors of a ship in orbit will dismiss it as an atmospheric fluctuation.” R’har glanced skyward, already sliding his pack off his shoulders. “Wait here. I will return shortly.”

She took a quick step after him. “You mean you have to set them off from down there? Isn’t that, you know, fucking
dangerous
?”

“I will set the charge from here but I must erase any evidence of our departure. We have left tracks a child could follow.”

Hope glanced at the path they’d taken from the ship. The hillside was rocky and
she
sure couldn’t see any sign that they’d disturbed things in the valley below.

“Uh, sure,” she said, shifting her weight. “Anything you’d like me to do in the meantime?”

“Remain here and do not wander,” he warned. “This world has its own dangers.”

Hope sent a quick uneasy glance at the woods behind her. “Like what? Space bears?”

“This colony was abandoned many years ago. The settlements are dilapidated, the wildlife unchecked. Most will not recognize bipeds as a danger, only a meal.”

“Oh,
grand
. I hope you remembered to put the barbeque sauce in my pack. I’d hate to be thought bland.”

“You will be safe here for a few moments,” he assured. “I am well armed. I will return swiftly if you have need of me.”

“Fine, yes, go on,” she said, embarrassed and annoyed at how anxious she was at being separated from him, even for a little while. “I’ll stay right here.”

He held her eyes for a moment then gave a human-style nod. “I will not be gone from you long.”

R’har took off at a jog—a
g’hir’s
jog which had him going about twenty-five miles an hour. Hope’s mouth parted at his speed, at his
inhuman
speed. He was probably not even trying.

At some point she had started being able to look right past the ridged brow, the glowing eyes, those fangs, and just see
him
, just R’har. His growls even sounded normal now. But when he did things like this, moved like lightning, or fell into that stillness of his, it brought it all back—everything about him, his biology, his culture, his way of thinking was alien.

Hope swallowed hard. Her parents had both been human, both American, both from the DC metro area, both
doctors
, for fuck’s sake, and their marriage was a disaster. And none of those perfect grooms in the bridal magazines sported fangs along with their tuxes.

He was trying to downplay their differences. Trying to nod like a human, rather than a g’hir, trying to mimic human mannerisms, moving far slower than she knew he could. They’d been onboard the ship, confined by its size, so she’d seen him move that fast in the open only once before, back on Earth when he’d cut off her escape, when he’d captured her.

Back on Earth!

Hope’s gaze was drawn to the two suns above and the baker’s dozen of Olari’s moons visible even during daylight. She couldn’t see Earth, of course; not even her own world’s sun would be visible from here. G’hir ships traveled through space by opening a wormhole between destinations—a “jump” they called it. Earth was trillions of miles away and something about being alone, here on this hillside on a distant abandoned world, brought that home in stomach-clenching knowledge.

“Hope?”

With a gasp, she spun around.

“What is it?” R’har was frowning, his gaze scanning the landscape for any threat. “Did you see something?”