Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2 (3 page)

“You’re—” she gasped. “You’re not—”

His full lips drew back, his fangs flashing, terrifyingly sharp even in the faint light. Hope screamed, her hands flying to her ears to block the earsplitting sound of his roar.

Still screaming, Hope twisted to push off with her hands, propelling herself forward and onto her feet.  His movements were a blur and she managed only a few stumbling steps before she stopped short, he in front of her. Instinctively she spun to flee in the other direction, choking into petrified silence at seeing him in front of her again, cutting off her escape.

Fucking nobody moves that fast! No human can!

Hope shook her head, her hands held out to hold him off, backing away as he drew his weapon, his snarl rising to another roar.

But he’s not—!

It was the last thought she had before he shot her.

Two

Hope stirred, wincing against the ache in her head.

Where—?

The light was dim, the familiar feel of a mattress and pillow beneath her. The room was very quiet, the bed big and soft, the air touched by the warm, comforting scent of cinnamon.

Oh, right, the cabin in North Carolina.

After the long day of driving and heartache it was no wonder she had headed upstairs and fallen right to sleep in this comfy bed.

But . . .

She
remembered
being out on the cabin’s porch, seeing the mist curling through mountains, the warmth of that pretty blue and white china cup in her hand, steam rising from the milky tea—

And this sure didn’t look anything like the inside of a vacation cabin. The walls were smooth, smoky colored, not rough wood like that rental.

Where the hell am I?

Her arms felt funny, too heavy, but it wasn’t until she tried to sit up that she realized she was handcuffed.

She stared in astonishment at the bindings holding her wrists and panic slammed into her chest at the realization that she wasn’t alone in that room.

The same man—that same
creature
from the woods with the inhuman face—stood there, just beside the doorway, his back to the wall, so unnaturally still that at first she hadn’t noticed him. His eyes glowed in the room’s dim light and he was every bit as alien and dangerous looking now as he had been in the woods.

Something about his stance told her he’d been standing there for a while, watching her.

That guy in the diner—the crazy ex-sheriff—raving about an alien carrying off that girl—

The alien’s lips drew back to reveal his fangs. His low snarl sent a jolt of adrenaline through her veins that instantly cleared the muddiness from her brain.

Gasping, made clumsy by her bindings and whatever he’d knocked her out with, Hope threw herself toward the other side of the bed, rolled and staggered to her feet, putting the big bed between them.

“Oh my God, you’re not—” It may have been the most obvious, possibly even the
stupidest
fucking thing in the world to say, but she simply couldn’t stop herself. “You’re not
human
!”

As suddenly as the bear had charged, the alien was around the bed reaching for her. Hope, still lightheaded, backpedaled from his grasp so fast she lost her footing. With her hands cuffed Hope couldn’t break her fall and she cried out, landing hard on her backside.

He made another grab for her and she scrambled back, whimpering, to curl into a terrified ball in the corner of the room.

“Don’t hurt me!” Hope pressed herself back against the cold walls. “Oh, God, please don’t hurt me!”

He towered over her, his square-jawed face half in shadow, his glowing green eyes fixed on hers, holding so still he didn’t even seem to be breathing. Hope’s lips trembled as she craned her neck, forced by his great height to look up at him. 

Then in a move that left Hope blinking, he knelt.

He stayed like that, a few feet away from her, his legs folded under him, his hands resting lightly on his thighs. He bent his head, silently gazing up at her from under his heavy blond brows.

This isn’t happening! This can’t be happening!

Because the alternative was she was actually looking at an intelligent being who not only
wasn’t human but who was looking right back at her.

Maybe I’m crazy, a breakdown or something from the stress. Any minute a doctor or nurse will show up and say that no, of course there isn’t a huge, blond alien right there!

But wondering if she was crazy probably meant that she wasn’t.

He was less terrifying this way, certainly, this alien creature, without all that bulk looming over her. They were nearly at eye level this way, although even kneeling he was still taller.

As time stretched on and he didn’t lunge at her, his gaze steady and his fangs not showing, Hope’s racing heart started to slow down a little.

She’d been pulling against the cuffs blindly, trying to work herself free, and now she risked a glance down at them. Her bindings felt slightly warm and appeared to be completely smooth metal, as if they had been custom formed to her wrists. Attached by a thick cord between them, there was no catch or hinge she could see. The cuffs were so fitted she couldn’t twist them on her skin either.

The alien hadn’t moved. Still kneeling, he regarded her with his steady, luminescent gaze. Hope wet her lips, her glance darting around the room. She couldn’t remember a damn thing after he leveled the stun gun—or whatever it was—at her but it was pretty obvious he was the one who’d brought her here.

A lifetime of striving not to come off as the stereotypical redhead, of forcing herself to calm, clear thinking, served her well. Hope was proud that she managed a couple of really useful thoughts.

Okay, I’m handcuffed but I’m not helpless. I’ve got a brain and a mouth and eyes. I’ll find out whatever I can and I’ll go from there.

“Where am I?” she demanded. “Why did you bring me here?”

The alien’s head came up. He growled again, but softly this time, and odd to think it but those seemed like gentle, even reassuring, sounds rumbling from his throat.

But however he meant them, those growls sure weren’t shining any light on her situation.

“Um.” Hope cleared her throat. “Can you talk?”

He leaned forward, reaching for her again, and she flinched away. He stopped short, his hand still outstretched, his rippled brow creased. After a moment he eased his weight back and took up his former nonthreatening posture, his hands resting on his thighs again.

Holding her gaze with his brilliant eyes, he growled in that soothing way. The tones of his rumbles rose and fell, each melding so completely into the next she couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be one long snarl or a bunch of short snarls, one after the other.

“Wait, is that what you’re doing?” Hope asked, eyeing him warily in case all that pleasant rumbling was intended to distract her from a new attack. “Are you—are you talking right now?”

He was watching her mouth as she spoke. When she stopped he met her gaze again and jerked his chin toward her.

What the hell does
that
mean?

Hope shifted her weight. Her butt and back hurt from her fall and her shoulders ached with tension. “Is that how you talk? Those growls?”

He jerked his chin toward her again. 

His way of nodding, maybe?
 

“Okay,” Hope muttered. “I’m going to say that’s a yes.”

The alien tilted his head, the soft light making his hair a halo of gold, but he didn’t try to grab at her again and Hope risked another glance around the room. A bedroom, obviously, and something about the items, how they lay in their places as if put down a bit carelessly, bespoke of an occupied, lived-in place.

His.

She suddenly wondered just how long she had been lying there on his bed, how long he had been watching her sleep, why he’d dragged her here at all . . .

“Did you bring me here to”—she swallowed back the word
kill
—“to hurt me?”

His eyes widened and he instantly gave a sharp snarl that couldn’t be anything other than a no.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she allowed finally. “But I actually believe you.” She chewed her lip for a moment. “There was another girl—I don’t remember her name—Jenny, maybe? Did you take her too?”

Hope was rewarded with a sharp headshake, his golden hair catching the light at the movement. Back at the diner that nutso—well, as it turned out,
not
so nutso—ex-sheriff said Jenny had been carried off by a black-haired creature with demon eyes.

And my demon-eyed creature is definitely blond.

If the ex-sheriff saw Jenny carried off into the woods and it hadn’t been this alien who’d taken the other girl, then it stood to reason that another of his kind
had
.

Hope’s hands clenched. Was this an invasion? Or just random kidnappings?

She wet her lips and glanced toward the smooth, fitted door. Was this a spaceship then? If that girl, Jenny, was here too—wherever
here
was—she might have some idea what was going on.

“But Jenny—Is she here?”

He gave another growl but no chin jerk. From his tone she thought that was also definitely a no.

“Is there anybody else here?” she asked, then added hopefully, “Anyone who speaks English?”

Another shake of that blond head.

Okay, I’ve been abducted and handcuffed by a growling, snarling creature who doesn’t speak English any more than I speak “Growl” but he seems to be able to understand me at least.

Hope shifted again and her engagement ring caught the light.

And you know it’s been a bad week when being kidnapped by a huge, fanged alien isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to you . . .

She raised her arms, holding out her manacled wrists a little. “Did you do this to me?”

With a sudden flash of white, squared-off teeth and wicked-looking fangs the alien gave a boyish, proud grin.

The change was astonishing. His smile was warm, his alien eyes alight with intelligence and mischievous good humor—

Hope gave herself a mental slap.

Worst taste in men. Ever.

“Well then, think you could take them
off
me now?”

He watched her mouth again.

“Oooofffff,” he growled.

Progress!
Hope extended her hands toward him. “Yes,
off
. I’d really like you to take these cuffs
off
.”

Unexpectedly the alien pushed himself up to stand and Hope straightened to peer over the bed, watching as he crossed to the other side of the room. He had his back to her so she couldn’t see what he was doing but she heard the clink of glassware, the scrape of metal.

The alien turned back, an elegant tray held in front of him, his expression solemn and absorbed now, intent on his task as he carried it toward her. He stopped a few feet away and knelt again, then placed the tray on the floor between them.

The tray was black with elaborate swirling inlay that resembled mother of pearl, and on it sat a decanter and a delicate-looking crystal glass. Next to the glass was a round plate of the same crystal with some white, square things that looked a bit like cookies.

Hope glanced between him and the tray. “I don’t want anything to eat.” She held her bound hands out toward him again. “I want you to take these off.”

He slid the tray toward her. He scooted closer himself in its wake, close enough now that she realized that warm cinnamon-like scent she’d noticed earlier was his.

With care, the alien took up the decanter and goblet, the delicate crystal looking unbelievably fragile in his huge hands as he poured some of the liquid into the cup.

He put the bottle down and held the cup to her mouth.

Hope leaned away. “No, I don’t want a drink.” God knew what was in that stuff anyway. She held her cuffed wrists nearer to his face. “What I
want
is for you to take these cuffs
off,
please.”

He studied her for a moment then growled, “Cccuufffs
oooofffff
plllleeasse.”

He held the goblet out to her again and she turned her head to evade it. Just why he wanted her to drink that—and willingly, since at his size he could hold her with one huge hand and force her to it—wasn’t clear.

Problem was, she wasn’t seeing that she had much choice either. She wasn’t getting past him; he blocked the way to the door and he could move faster than an attacking mother bear. It didn’t take a genius to figure out her chances of escape were going to be tons better if she were free of the restraints.

“So I drink, uh”—Hope glanced at the cup—“
whatever
that is and you take the cuffs off?”

The alien gave what seemed to Hope’s ears like an agreeable rumble and held it toward her.