by Marie Dry
"Raiders may be puny to you, but it's impossible for four warriors to kill three hundred of them in such a short time, armed with only swords." Would he consider human soldiers puny as well?
"We have other weapons."
"Oh."
She didn't know what else to say. The thought of such powerful weapons in the hands of possible enemies of Earth scared her. And she had this nagging thump against her conscience that she should warn someone about Zacar and his warriors. But the more time she spent with him, the less she wanted to endanger them.
"Why do they want you, Natlia?"
"I don't know. I've been thinking and thinking, but there's no reason for them to be after me."
"We will catch one and interrogate him," he said with sinister calm.
Instead of shocking her, his words reassured her. If given a choice, she would rather be at the mercy of Zacar and his aliens than the raiders. She'd seen what the women in their camps had to endure.
She gazed up at him and lifted a finger to trace his square jaw. If only he would stop feeding her like a child, stop forcing her to submit to his will, he would almost be the perfect boyfriend. Her lips curled in a smile. He was many things, but boyfriend didn't suit him. He stood perfectly still, allowing her touch.
She glanced briefly at the ridge on his forehead. "Weren't you afraid someone would realize you were aliens?"
He stared down at her, unblinking, for a long time, still caressing her nape with gentle fingers. His touch caused her body to break out in hives in places she never expected to feel pleasure. When he stepped back, her hand dropped to her side and she had to force herself to stay still, to not grab his hands, and bring them back to her body.
His body shimmered, and suddenly, a tall, very muscular-looking man in an army uniform stood before her.
She gasped and stumbled back, falling to the cave floor. The man in the army uniform, with Zacar's black eyes, reached down to her. Even knowing it was him, she flinched. He changed back.
"H--how did you manage to do that?"
"Our technology is...more advanced than yours." He glanced at her TC.
It was one of the best TC's on the market, bought with the money paid to her by the forestry department five years ago. But now, when he looked at it with such contempt, it didn't appear all that impressive.
"You can't go around killing people. If they catch you, they'll hang you for killing all those raiders. It might not seem fair but that is the law." Though, whether the police or army is capable of arresting them is a different matter. She allowed him to help her up.
"Your small army can barely feed themselves. I am not worried about them catching me."
She stopped wiping the seat of her pants and looked up at him. "You're going to kill a lot more raiders, aren't you?"
"Yes," he grated.
"Why? Why are you so determined to fight them?"
"They touched you," he said, as if the logic of his actions should be clear to her.
"And for that, you attacked their camps?"
"I protect my breeder. They are woumbers and will be exterminated."
Natalie swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Even so, she couldn't find it in herself to feel sorry for the raiders. The atrocities they perpetrated and their criminal acts against innocent women and children were punishable by death. What scared her out of her mind was that a being powerful enough to kill that many raiders was claiming her as if she were livestock. What if his feeding and caring of her was only part of a breeding ritual?
Pulling her against him, Zacar lowered his head and brushed his mouth against her neck. His hands slowly moved from her upper arms to settle on her waist. She could feel the texture of his strange metal, leathery clothes right through her heavy winter pants and sweater.
Natalie trembled, but not in fear. She might not be close to being Ms. Space Ranger, but she never lied to herself. Her body wanted Zacar, in spite of her heart screaming to be careful, reminding her that he didn't feel human emotions, like love.
Her hands crept up his strong biceps to rest on his shoulders, her fingers caressing the muscles she found there. When he lowered his head, she lifted her chin, her lips parting for his kiss. He pressed his forehead against hers. His hands on her waist moved down, caressing her hips before moving to clasp her butt. He teased the hollow in her throat and Natalie tilted her face more, parted her mouth, moist and ready for his to claim hers.
But he stepped back then grated a command at the other aliens before turning away from her and fiddling with the sphere thing again. If she hadn't known better, she would've thought he was embarrassed about caressing her in front of his men.
Natalie stood rooted to the spot, feeling like a housecat who'd been pushed out into the cold snow. Did she mistake the mood? She could feel a blush of shame creeping up, all the way from her toes. Was she really so lonely and desperate that she wanted an alien who admitted to killing three hundred men only a few hours ago? That didn't scare her as much as it should. Since he'd saved her from freezing to death, she kept getting these flashes of lying naked, skin to skin, with him in that hot cocoon.
She glanced around, desperate for some privacy, and went to the back cave. She searched until she found the herbal shampoo she'd been saving for a special occasion. Julia told her, the last time they'd chatted, that shampoo was almost impossible to find these days. That meant the homemade shampoos she made from the herbs she planted in the hothouse should trade well. Or it would have traded well. Now, she'd probably never see the town again.
For now, she would enjoy the luxury of having shampoo that came from a beautiful bottle bought off the shelf. It would relax her and take her mind off the horror of seeing Zacar splattered with blood, flesh clinging to his clothes. Not to mention how he'd morphed into a human soldier. And she refused to dwell on her disappointment that he hadn't kissed her.
When she entered the main cave again, Zacar came over to her and briefly placed his forehead against hers. This time she simply stood still, accepting the touch, not tilting her head for a kiss like a desperate idiot. Without a word, he stepped back and joined the other warriors.
They marched out, their boots ringing on the cave floor. She envied them the ability to make intimidating noise or walk like ghosts that made no sound and left no footprints.
***
Zacar went around the large rock jutting out in front of the cave. It always reminded him of home. He looked up at the exotic blue sky overhead that proclaimed this an alien world.
Zurian came to stand next to him.
"Has communications with home world been repaired," Zacar asked.
"Yes, my leader."
"Zacar. We are going to spend the rest of our lives on this primitive planet. No need for formality when we are not in battle."
"These humans are not capable of giving us battle."
"Woumbers," Zacar gritted out.
They stood staring at the alien landscape for a long time before Zacar found the words to voice his fear. "The leader cannot see Natlia. No transmission to home world can be made when she is near."
"It will be done."
"My breeder is much cleverer than I thought at first. Everyone is to speak Zyrgin when sensitive issues are discussed. Speak Standard Galactic and watch your words whenever she is near or paying attention."
"It shall be done," Zurian said.
***
Shrugging at Zacar's retreating back, Natalie went to the shower area. At least, she would be assured privacy while they were out, probably destroying another raider camp. She was curious to see what they'd done with the inside.
They'd divided the bathroom space. She opened a stall and, when she touched the plate in the wall, hot water cascaded down. They'd created two partitions and installed a door on each stall, before enclosing the entire space. She could kiss them. Who would've thought the invading aliens would make her a bathroom in her cave? Something that looked like a water tank was mounted against one wall. She d
idn't care how they managed the plumbing, only that she now had warm running water.
Maybe she'd entered some alternate reality, like in one of those old Twilight Zone episodes, where strange things happened to ordinary people.
She ran the water as hot as she could bear and closed her eyes, letting it gush over her, easing her tight muscles. The fresh herbal smell of the shampoo filled the shower stall. As much as she enjoyed the unexpected luxury of a hot shower, it couldn't erase the humiliation of reaching for a kiss that wasn't coming. How could she make such a fool of herself? Was she destined always to find someone who didn't want her?
She scrubbed her scalp with vicious fingers. Maybe he didn't realize she wanted him to kiss her. Did the people on his planet kiss like humans? Deep kisses that was supposed to curl your toes?
"Is having silk on their heads important for Earth people?"
She screamed and threw the bottle of shampoo at Zacar, who caught it with lazy ease. Dwarfing the entrance of the cubicle, he stared at her naked body with eyes as red as the lava flow that had covered most of Yellowstone Park in 2280.
Natalie crossed her arms over her breasts and turned her back to him. "Get out," she ordered, glaring at him over her shoulder, her hair clinging wet down her back, not concealing enough of her body.
He crossed his arms. "No."
She saw his eyes travel over her bare back and rest on her buttocks for a long time.
"What are you doing here? Don't you understand the concept of privacy?"
He was supposed to be gone, doing warrior stuff. Not standing in her shower and ogling her.
"You are my breeder. You do not need privacy from me." He stepped forward, not caring that his clothes and boots got sprayed by the water.
She stuttered, her outrage too huge to formulate into words.
"Is silk on the head important to Earth people," he repeated unperturbed.
"I don't understand. Do you mean silk fabric?" Keeping her back to him, she snatched the towel she'd hung over the stall and wrapped it around herself. She had no room to step back because he was planted solidly against her back, forcing her to rub against him, as she secured the towel. Impossible alien. Why did he have to come back now?
He lifted a strand of her hair. "This growing on your head. It is beautiful, like the sky on my planet. Your tiny men have it, too."
Natalie bit her lip at the gentle caress. Wait, did he just say their sky was brown?
"Most men admire women with a thick head of hair," she said absently, still trying to picture a world with a brown sky.
"Yours is most beautiful."
She stared at him for a moment, speechless. That explained why he always touched her hair. Every time she grabbed her hair, he'd untangle it with a strange, intense look. On any other man it would've looked endearing. Zacar simply appeared fierce while he did it. "Thank you."
"Do you want me to have silk on my head?" There was no vulnerability in the question. It was more an arrogant disdain that she might want him to look like a weak human male.
"Uh, no. I'm used to you the way you are." What a weird conversation to have while standing almost naked in a shower with an alien she'd barely known for a week.
Again, she had that weird sense that she got every now and then around him, as if she could feel his thoughts, even though he hadn't said or shown her anything. The feeling she got now was a need from him to be reassured that she found him attractive.
Not knowing what else to say, and wanting to distract him, she said, "Did the raiders hurt you when you attacked their camp? They're usually heavily armed."
He relished going to war, and she couldn't imagine him being concerned about human weapons, but what else could she say in such a situation.
Zacar grated something she didn't catch, and the shower turned off. He turned her to face him, drawing her up against him. She tilted her head back to avoid looking at the body pressed close to hers. He was tempting and all male, and the way he'd rubbed salve into her body the night before had awakened needs she'd thought long dead. She forced her clamouring feelings down. This time, she wouldn't act that desperate. No more begging for kisses he didn't intend to give.
"I am a Zyrgin warrior," he told her, as if nothing more needed to be said.
"Some of them must've tried to defend themselves."
It was difficult having a rational discussion while being held against his warm body. Her hands fluttered around anxiously and, in the end, she rested her fists lightly against his chest. Except feeling those beautiful ridges and hollows tempted her hands to explore.
"Yes." He didn't elaborate as she'd hoped.
"Uh, is everybody all right? No one needs medical attention?" She knew she was rapidly descending into an utterly silly conversation and her face heated. Obviously, if they got hurt, the doctor would see to them.
"My men are Zyrgin warriors, as well," he said with a hint of mockery.
She couldn't lie to herself anymore. No matter how much she would prefer fear to be the cause of her trembling, she knew it was more than that. Oh, she felt fear. Any normal woman would have, but she was also trembling with the same strange tingly want that she experienced whenever he was around.
A part of her mind screamed in warning that he was an alien, but her body only recognised a male. A male pressed against her, his heavy erection impossible to miss as it pulsed against her stomach.
Don't look down. Don't look down, she chanted in her head.
The fading steam sizzled with tension, wrapping itself around them, cocooning them in a hot sensual prison. Stepping back, never looking away from her, he slowly stripped off his shirt, his muscles rippling. He didn't undo buttons or zip it open. He simply pulled and the shirt came undone. Never breaking eye contact, he dropped the shirt outside the shower stall then stepped out of his shoes. Simply stepped out of them. No bending over awkwardly and fiddling with bootlaces. She was so envious of his clothes that he was almost naked before she realized it.
"Why are you undressing?" The question left her mouth before she could stop it and she wanted to smack herself on the forehead. Brilliant, Natalie Hanson.
He didn't answer, but stepped out of his pants as easily as he stepped out of his boots.
At least, one of her questions had been answered. Aliens, Zyrgin aliens at least, didn't wear underwear.
His stomach and thighs appeared rock hard. Natalie knew from experience that if she touched him, she would barely make a dent in his skin. How she ever thought she could knock him out was still a mystery to her. His thighs, thick and muscled, tapered into human like knees, only with more defined bones and tendons. His well-toned calf muscles slotted into sturdy ankles.
For a moment, she was fascinated by the biggest feet she was ever likely to encounter in her lifetime. His toes were different from a human's. Each one was tipped with downright dangerous-looking claws that retracted under her gaze. The claws, more than his coppery color and size, shouted he wasn't from her world.
And still, her betraying body reacted to him. Her muscles tightening with need, while her legs trembled and her hands itched to touch him.
Carefully raising her eyes from his intriguing toes, she looked at what had held her curiosity ever since she'd whacked him. Apart from being a deeper copper color, he was built much the same as human men. Except that he lacked body hair. Didn't that mean he was from a warmer climate, or did it have something to do with evolving to withstand heat? When he'd warmed her with his body heat after she nearly froze to death she'd felt him, thick and hard, against her. But it hadn't prepared her for this.
Clearly, Andre hadn't been very blessed in that department. Her alien was big and erect. She gasped in what she insisted was horror, not awe. Then she spun around to leave.
He tightened his arms around her before she could move away from him.
"Let me go. You're not coming near me with that...thing."
"Thing fit," he said in a growly, overly intimate voice. He pressed her back
against the wall of the shower stall until every ridge and bulge pressed against her from shoulder to ankle.
"It won't work. You're too large," she protested. "You said you wouldn't hurt me." But oh, if it worked, wouldn't it be wonderful to be that close to someone again? And with Zacar, she knew she would experience pleasure as well.
"We will fit perfect. Viglar measured."
What? She moaned and hid her face in his chest, praying for the earth to open up and swallow her whole. Or sacrifice her to a volcano. How on earth could she ever look the doctor in the face again? "Please, Zacar, we need to know each other better before we become intimate," she said, trying to convince him as much as herself.
"I wash you now," he said.
He was talking the way he had before his language chip kicked in. Was she affecting him enough to interfere with his speech? It was a seductive thought. With her fiancé, she always had the sense that he was much less enthusiastic about her than she'd been toward him.
When he reached for the towel she'd wrapped around herself, she held it tight over her breasts and drew back against the silver wall.
"Zacar wash Natlia," he insisted in a thick, barely comprehensible voice. He snatched the towel away and threw it over the wall of the cubicle then growled something. The shower came on instantly, hot water pouring over them.
Briefly diverted from her body's clamouring needs, she frowned up at Zacar. "I had to touch it for the water to turn on. Can I make it work with only my voice, as well?"
"No." He didn't elaborate and instead picked up her bar of homemade soap.
As carefully as he'd fed her earlier, he washed every inch of her with the lightest of touches, his movements almost ritualistic. She shivered as those rough fingertips stroked over her sensitive flesh, leaving trails of fiery pleasure in their wake. Never had she been this intimate with anyone. She'd had sex before, but there was never this sense of being treasured.
His hands surprisingly gentle, nothing of her body was private or forbidden. His fingers moved over her ribs and she heard him count. Was he complaining about her being too thin, just like Andre had?
