Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2

by Danes, Willow

  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, “Cccuufffsoooofffffplllleeasse.”

  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.

  “Look, you might have grabbed me from the middle of nowhere but I’m no backwoods hick, you know.” Hope threw a narrow look at the cup he held. “You first.”

  The alien settled back on his haunches to regard her with puzzled, glowing eyes. After a moment he lifted the cup and, making certain she was watching, took a drink.

  He offered the cup to her again. “Cccuufffsoooofffffplllleeasse.”

  Hope narrowed her eyes at him, considering. He hadn’t hesitated to taste it himself, which meant it wasn’t poisonous or drugged. Or, if it was, he was confident it wouldn’t harm him anyway.

  “One sip,” Hope agreed finally. “And then cuffs off, right?”

  His green gaze was bright, eager, as he held the cup to her mouth. Her hands came up to steady the glass but she realized she probably hadn’t needed to; he moved closer, his palm coming to rest lightly at the back of her head as he carefully tipped the cup to allow her to drink.

  She was thirsty but took the tiniest of sips possible. It was light, fruity, and sweet and really very pleasant stuff. She licked some off her lips, almost wishing she could have more.

  His full mouth curled into a faint smile and his long fingers brushed her forehead, unexpectedly tender as he smoothed a curl away from her eye.

  He put the glass down and picked up one of the white square cookie things. With an air of ceremony he broke off a corner and held the morsel out to her.

  “Oh, hold on!” Hope protested as he pushed the bite at her mouth. “I take a drink, you take these things off—that was our deal!”

  His brow furrowed, his fingers following her mouth as she twisted, trying to elude the morsel he held.

  “Stop it! I don’t want it!”

  The flash of hurt in his glowing eyes took her by surprise but Hope kept her lips stubbornly together and finally he lowered his hand.

  He drew a deep breath and growled. His voice rose and fell with solemn, gentle tones and when he finished his glowing eyes searched hers.

  Damn it, why is this so important to him anyway?

  Hope took a cautious glance at the bite he held. He raised the morsel hopefully.

  She wet her lips and gave a nod at the biscuit he held. “You first.”

  Instantly he put the bite in his mouth, chewed and swallowed.

  From the same biscuit-like thing he broke off another piece, offering it to her. “Cccuufffsoooofffffplllleeasse.”

  “You’d better take the fucking cuffs off this time,” Hope warned and opened her mouth the let him feed her.

  It was pretty tasty actually. Sweet but not too sweet, with the crumbly texture of shortbread and man, did his face brighten to have her take it.

  Hope held her hands up. “Cuffs. Off. Now.”

  In response he put his hands over her wrists and in the next moment the bindings melted away into his grip and she was free. She’d never seen anything like it.

  “How did you do that?”

  He was already twisting to toss the cuffs aside. When he turned back, his eyes were warm on her, his mouth pulled up at the corners as if he were struggling to contain another kid-like grin. With a sweep of his large hand he shoved the tray aside and moved closer to her.

  Caught with the wall behind her, Hope couldn’t retreat. The feel of him, his sheer nearness, the warm cinnamon scent of him, sent every nerve of Hope’s body tingling.

  His palms felt hot, dry, a little rough against her skin as if he were used to manual labor, but his touch was gentle as he took her hands in his. He was looking down at their hands clasped together and Hope saw that the size and strength of his made hers look positively delicate as he gently tugged her toward him.

  Hope expected her body to tense up, to steadfastly resist the pull of this half-beast, but to her own astonishment she nearly melted into him. With Brian, with other men too, she’d had to work at relaxing into their embrace, but as the alien slid one hand around her waist she felt soft, supple, yielding easily to him.

  God, this must be what a moth feels going to the flame . . .

  He bent his head toward her, close enough that she felt the warmth of his breath against her mouth. He made a soft sound then, a rumbling purr that seemed to radiate right through her to tighten her center as he bent his head toward her. He gently rubbed his nose up one side of hers, tilted his face, then rubbed down the other side as his rumbling deepened.

  Hope’s breath quickened, her breasts suddenly heavy, her clit vibrating along with the sound he made, her mind reeling with astonishment at the sensation. Her mouth parted. She’d never in her life been so instantly and powerfully aroused; if he merely brushed his fingers against her cleft he’d have her coming.

  His head dipped, his warm breath mixing with her own for an instant, and then his lips were against hers.

  His kiss was light at first, almost shy, but the rumbling never stopped and Hope softened against him as his tongue touched the inner part of her lip, filling her mouth with the cinnamon-sweet taste of him as he deepened the kiss.

  Instinctively Hope wound her arms around his neck to draw him closer to return that heat with her own. This was nothing like kissing Brian, like other men, where she’d held so much of herself back, not wanting to scare them off, to let herself get too vulnerable.

  This time, with his mouth on hers and with that rumble-purr thrumming through her, she had no choice but to yield.

  His glowing eyes were half-shut, heavy with desire as he drew away a little to look at her. His mouth curved into a half-smile as he held her palm to his face. He closed his eyes then and rubbed his cheek against her hand, rumbling in contentment. His skin was completely smooth. She fleetingly wondered if he grew a beard at all but then his mouth was moist and hot against her palm and Hope groaned, suddenly imagining that rumbling kiss pressed to her clit.

  His rumbling caught, stumbled and stopped.

  Hope watched through the haze of desire throbbing inside her as he pressed his nose to her
palm, breathing deeply, then again. His thumb ran over the bump of her ring and he drew away a little, his brow furrowed. He turned her hand and the diamond caught the light, sparkling in the dim room.

  “Oh.” Hope cleared her throat, trying to think past the insistent heat at her center. “Yeah, that’s, uh, my engagement ring.”

  He lifted her hand, till the ring itself was under his nose, and drew in his breath deeply. When the alien raised his head he had the most curious expression on his face. If he’d been human she would have said he was square between stunned and annoyed.

  His jaw hardened and he stood. With his great height and her hand still in his firm grip she didn’t have any choice but to stand too.

  “Are we going somewhere?” she gasped as he pulled her along with him.

  The bedroom door slid open at their approach and Hope squinted against the bright light flooding in from the adjoining room. A long row of light gray padded seats lined the space; deep and comfortable-looking, they appeared oversized to Hope’s eyes but were probably perfectly suited to someone like him. A table and four large chairs, all fixed to the deck, were located on the far end of the room. Hope’s glance darted around, despite what he’d said—or rather growled, half-expecting to see the black-haired alien or even the missing Jenny, but the room was unoccupied.

  Her alien clearly wasn’t interested in lingering here though, quickly crossing the room and pulling her along with him into an equally brightly lit—and equally empty—hallway. He had firm hold of her wrist and she trotted after him down the corridor, trying hard to match his long-legged strides.

  “Damn it, where are we going?”

  It occurred to her then that at some point, alien that he was, she’d clean forgotten to be afraid of him. That fear came roaring back when they reached the door at the end of the corridor; it slid open at their approach and he pulled her along inside.

  The alien abruptly let go of her and headed to the far side of the room, already rummaging around for something. The room had an antiseptic tang to it and Hope, her mouth dry, shrank back in horror.

  Unfamiliar equipment and scary-looking alien instruments were neatly arrayed along the walls and counters. A large padded surface dominated the center of the room; with bright lights directed down on it and actual straps hanging down its sides, it had the unmistakable look of an operating table.

  If someone had set out to design a nightmare especially for her, he couldn’t have done a better job. Since she’d had her tonsils out at age eight she’d had a morbid terror of anything medical and her phobia had only gotten worse as she’d grown older. Now, at age twenty-seven, only a combination of Xanax and deep breathing exercises got her through even the most rudimentary physical. The last time she’d gotten a flu shot Brian had to drive her to and from the doctor’s office and he’d grumbled darkly about the crescent-shaped nail marks she’d left on his skin from gripping his hand.

  The alien turned back, his inhuman gaze fixed on her, and gripped in his huge hand was a very sinister-looking metallic cylindrical instrument—clearly intended for her.

  He was across the room and had hold of her arm in a heartbeat, already bringing the instrument toward the base of her skull. Hope screamed and with a desperate, hard push against his chest she managed to break his hold, retreating so fast she slammed into the wall behind her, rattling some of the equipment there and bruising her shoulder.

  He stared at her, his brow creased. He gave an annoyed huff and Hope recoiled at his approach, intending to flee into the corridor only to find the door wouldn’t open for her.

  “Stay away from me!”

  He stopped his advance then held the instrument up and growled. His sounds were as soft and low as before but, if his rumbles were intended to soothe her, they sure weren’t doing the job with that thing still clutched in his hand.

  Hope continued to back away, her fingers spread out at her sides, the chill of the cold wall behind her all she had to fight off the faint threatening to take her down.

  He gave an impatient snarl and she darted to the other side of the room, putting as much space between them as possible.

  “Goddamn it! I said stay back!”

  Hope put her hand behind her, feeling along on the counter behind her for anything she could use to fight him off. She grabbed hold of something cold, metallic, and hopefully dangerous. It wasn’t very impressive looking when she brought it around, no bigger than the screwdriver she kept at home for simple repairs.

  She held it in front of her defensively and whatever it was she’d managed to grab, it made the alien hesitate.

  Hope wet her lips and brandished the thing a little. “Don’t come any closer.”

  His glowing gaze met hers and narrowed. From the way he shifted his weight, his broad shoulders tensing, she knew he was calculating how he could get hold of her.

  “I’m serious!” she warned, her voice cracking. “I will hurt you! I’ll kill you if I have to!”

  The alien’s glance went again to the instrument she held. She tightened her hold on it, readying herself for his rush.

  Finally he gave a frustrated snorf and lowered his own weapon.

  Hope’s heart was hammering in her chest as he took a step back. She watched him warily just in case he suddenly changed his mind but he simply crossed the room and returned the cylinder to its place among the other alien equipment.

  Empty-handed now, he turned and leaned back against the counter. He folded his massive arms, regarding her with his unnerving, alien eyes.

  She adjusted her hold on her new weapon carefully, wondering just how lethal what she’d grabbed was.

  “Okay.” She gestured with the instrument. “Open the door.”

  The alien’s eyes narrowed again but he stayed where he was.

  “I said, open the door!” She took a step toward him and hefted the weapon threateningly. “Now!”

  He sent an annoyed glance at the instrument she wielded. In the next moment he gave a low grumble and pushed off against the counter. Hope skirted back as he stalked past her, his footfalls heavy against the deck plating in those big boots of his.

  With a quick pass of his hand the door opened. He paused and looked over his shoulder at her, his thick eyebrows raised as if to say well, what now?

  She had no idea, but she knew if this spaceship could land on Earth once it could land there again. She would take her whatever-it-did weapon with her and get the hell out of here.

  Hope’s glance darted to the hallway. She’d already asked this but she wanted to be sure. “Is there anyone else here? Anyone besides us?”

  He gave a sharp headshake.

  “Okay.” Hope wet her lips. “Okay,” she said again. “Where are we? Where is this ship? I want you to show me exactly where we are.”

  He glanced at her hand again. She narrowed her gaze and raised the weapon.

  “I will use this if I have to,” she warned, hoping if she had to do anything with it she would be able to figure out how to in time.

  She suddenly realized she still had to force him to take her back to Earth, back to North America, in fact. An image of herself calling from Australia and begging Keri to overnight her passport and plane fare home flashed through her mind—

  The alien’s nostrils flared a bit then he gave a short growl. She followed him into the bright corridor again, careful not to get too close to him.

  It was clean and well lit but the walls and deck plating were metallic, rather utilitarian really, and not at all what she would have imagined a space ship to be. Her glance darted about as she followed him through the ship’s corridors, seeing a number of empty rooms as they passed. There really didn’t seem to be anyone else on board.

  At the door at the end of one passage, the alien hesitated.

  Hope narrowed her gaze. “Go on, open it! Show me where we are.”

  With a low snarl he waved his hand to activate the door, then stepped through. Blinking in astonishment, Hope followed.

&n
bsp; It was the cockpit of the ship, with were two seats in the front—presumably for the pilot and co-pilot—and two seats behind. A control panel curved along the perimeter of the space, set within easy reach of the pilot and co-pilot’s seats. Various lights and indicators were active on the panel but Hope gaze was riveted to the view through the windows.

  “Oh my God!” Her gaze took in the greenness and the golden light streaming into the cockpit as she came beside him, lowering the weapon a little in shock. “We never left! We’re still on Earth!”

  The alien moved so fast she didn’t even have time to cry out. He plucked the weapon from her hand and spun her to catch her against him, his massive arm around her chest to hold her immobile.

  Cold metal pressed to the skin of her throat; there was a stinging burn, then her legs gave way and the world went dark—

  Three

  Hope groaned as she came to.

  Opening her eyes brought forth another pained sound as blinding light pierced her vision. She tried to raise her hand to shield her eyes and couldn’t.

  She was strapped down.

  Gasping in terror and revulsion, Hope struggled against the restraints binding her wrists and ankles, running across her legs, abdomen, and chest to hold her pinned to the table. Only her head was free; raising it a little and squinting against the blinding light, she saw she was indeed back in the same nightmare of an operating room.

  A huge shadow suddenly blocked the lights above the table. The alien’s face came into focus, watching dispassionately with his glowing gaze as she strained against her restraints.

  Hope shrank away, too frightened even for tears. “Let me go! Oh God, please—!”

  “When you have given your word you will not threaten me again!”

  Hope’s mouth parted. He was still growling, she could hear snarls, but in her mind she heard words.

  “What the hell . . .?” She shook her head a little. “I can understand you! How come I can understand you now?”

  He held up the cylindrical instrument he’d wanted to use on her earlier. “I have placed your linguistic implant.” He touched the base of her skull, lightly peering at the spot, and then gave the chin jerk that was his version of a nod. “It appears to be functioning properly.”