Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3

by Danes, Willow

  She might even have taken it for a creek back home, with the sunlight dappling across the water, except that ursh trees, their limbs heavy with fernlike gray-green leaves, overhung the banks on either side and a bright nuaran bird that hopped on one of those branches, its glowing eyes darting her way before it flew away, belied any resemblance to North Carolina—or Earth for that matter.

  Ke’lar stopped and held up his hand in silent order for her to pause. His body was tense, his hand at the blaster he wore on his hip. He shifted his weight, pivoting as his glowing gaze swept the area. He took a few quick sniffs.

  Her glance darted about; she couldn’t detect any but themselves here but his senses were far keener than hers.

  “This place is secure,” he confirmed. “We are alone.” He gave another light sniff. “There have been no others save myself here for weeks.”

  “Weeks?” Summer muttered. “Jeez, what a nose.” She indicated the creek water. “Is it safe to drink?”

  “It is safe to rinse your mouth with,” he cautioned. “I have filtered the water we will drink.” He handed over the sack. “Here. There is cleanser and a cloth for your face, other things for your comfort.”

  “Thanks,” she said, taking the bag and hoping he would give her at least a little privacy.

  “I will be back in a few minutes,” he said. “Call out if you have need of me.”

  He left then, apparently confident she wouldn’t fall in and drown in the creek if he took his eyes off her for a second.

  Not wanting to get her clothes wet or ruin her new boots, Summer was careful to kneel where the bank was dry but she could still reach the water. She cleaned her teeth and used a corner of the cloth to clean her face so she wouldn’t get her shirt soaked either.

  She groomed herself as best she could and was already heading back toward the camp, the bag swung over her shoulder, making another half-hearted attempt at getting the knots out of her hair with her fingers as she walked, when he returned.

  “Always does this without a load of conditioner,” she said with a self-conscious laugh and gave up. “I’m probably just making it worse.”

  “The fault is mine.” He held up an intricately carved wooden comb, his grip on it gentle, almost cradling. “I meant to include it in your pack.”

  “Wow.” It was hand carved, the wood a natural deep, vibrant red, the decoration lovely even in its alienness. “It’s beautiful. It looks more like art than something you use on your hair.”

  “It was my mother’s.” Ke’lar held it out to her. “I gift it to you and hope it will serve to make you feel welcome on Erah lands.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks warmed. “Well, thanks. It’s such a rat’s nest, I’m probably just going to wind up tearing half my hair out.”

  She reached for the comb but before her fingers closed around it he moved with a smooth g’hir quickness, taking up position behind her.

  “It is not as bad as you say,” he assured her, his body warm at her back as he took the strands between his fingers.

  He deftly worked at the knots out, his alien dexterity allowing him to untangle them without so much as a tug.

  “You are fair enough to be born of the Yir clan,” he rumbled, his voice like soft thunder in her ear. “Some of them have hair this bright.”

  “I uh—” She cleared her throat. The brush of his fingers over the nape of her neck sent tingles running through her body. His gentle coaxing had some of the strands tamed already, the comb and his fingers sliding through her hair. “I didn’t know g’hir could be blond. I’ve only seen the Betari clan.” She looked back at Ke’lar. His hair was so dark it reflected blue in the sunlight. “And you.”

  He blinked and paused in his task. “The Betari did not let you see any not of their clan? How is that possible? You should have been taken to the medical center at Be’lyn City, at the very least, for a health evaluation.”

  “Well, I wasn’t,” she said shortly, facing away again. “Ar’ar kidnapped me, he imprisoned me at the enclosure, and Mirak made it clear I’d never leave it again.”

  “I am sorry, Summer.” His hand smoothed her hair, his touch soothing, his rumble soft in her ear. “It was not supposed to be this way.”

  “Really?” she asked, her throat tight. “How was it supposed to be then?”

  “You were to be treated with all honor, cherished, respected—”

  Her nostrils flared as she faced him and he dropped his hands at her glare.

  “I’m a goddamn hunting prize, Ke’lar! A pelt on a floor, a head mounted on a wall. As long as I’m able to breed that’s all the g’hir care about.”

  “That is not so! The Betari should never have treated you this way, never made you doubt your worth.” His face worked for a moment. “Never made you fear us.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. It’ll take a hell of a lot more to break me.” Summer lifted her chin. “And I’m not afraid of the g’hir.”

  “No.” His blue gaze was raw, the comb clenched in his hand. “You simply hate us.”

  “After what they did to me? What the fuck do you expect?”

  “I am g’hir,” he rumbled, searching her eyes. “Do you hate me as well, Summer?”

  “You?” She pushed her hair behind her ears. “That’s not—Look, you’ve got to understand. Ar’ar—”

  His fangs bared. “I am not Ar’ar!”

  “I know that, goddamn it!”

  “Do you?” he demanded. “Do you truly know me to be a different man?”

  Summer threw her hands out in frustration. “You said yourself that you’d take a human mate if you had half a chance! That doesn’t make you much different, does it?”

  His blue eyes flashed. “I will never treat a mate as Ar’ar has! The arrogance! The ingratitude! I would never have let anyone—”

  He broke off and looked away, his grip tight on the comb.

  “Look—” She wet her lips. “Ke’lar, I really appreciate all that you’ve—”

  “By the All Mother, please do not thank me,” he interrupted, shutting his eyes for a moment. “These wrongs done you, Summer, I cannot ever set to right.” He offered her the comb and she took it from his hand. “The Betari sought to deny you a Day of Choosing, they kept you isolated, prevented you from receiving even the most basic medical evaluation by an impartial healer. They have acted unconscionably.” He took a step back, his voice hoarse. “And you have every right to hate my kind.”

  Eight

  “What’s wrong with her?” Summer asked, holding her hand up against the pelting rain as Ke’lar dismounted from his place behind her, keeping hold of the reins, his brow furrowed as he hurried to stand before the nervous animal.

  He didn’t answer, stroking Beya’s long nose to soothe her, searching her rolling eyes. It occurred to Summer then how much of Ke’lar’s life had been spent in silence out here, how much of it in quiet communication with this creature.

  The day had started clear enough, then clouded over. A few drops here and there had turned into a downpour.

  “The storm is worsening.” His face was grim. “We must seek shelter.”

  “It’s just a little rain!”

  It was a ridiculous way of describing this cloudburst. The skies had darkened terrifyingly and the wind was picking up fast but—

  “We can ride through this! We have to!” she insisted. “You said we need to get to the other side of the river before nightfall. How much farther is it?”

  “Too far.” He shook his head. “We will not make it in time to cross.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I am not,” he said. “Beya is sure.”

  She wiped the water out of her eyes. “So we ride faster. We ride real fast and we can get across the river, right?”

  Ke’lar glanced in that direction, his long blue-black hair lifted by the wind, his grip tight on the reins, Beya shifting nervously beneath her.

  “Right?” Summer prompted, her legs dangling on either side of the multa
ri’s powerful back. There were only two stirrups and Ke’lar used them as he rode, leaving her feet hanging. It didn’t take long for that to get pretty uncomfortable and they’d been riding for hours but she wasn’t about to give up.

  “No.” His glowing gaze met hers then, and he had to raise his voice over the sound of the storm. “If she has become this agitated we will not have time to cross the river safely before the waters rise. If they rise quickly we cannot let ourselves be caught in the valley like this.”

  “Wait, are we talking flooding here? But—” They weren’t even in sight of the river yet. “How bad? The bridge will still be there. We could still cross.”

  He shook his head. “There is no bridge.”

  “No bridge!” she exclaimed. “How the hell were we going to get across if there’s no damn bridge?”

  “I would swim carrying you, then return for Beya and our supplies.”

  “You were going to swim it?” Summer squinted against the rain. “Twice—no, three times?”

  “If the storm had not come I would not doubt my ability to get you safely across but—” He shook his head and mounted behind Beya again, turning the multari. “We must make for the mountains.”

  “No!” Summer cried, trying to catch the reins for the all the good it did her. Ke’lar had four times her strength. “That’s the wrong direction! We have to get to the clanhall as fast as we can!”

  “What we must do is reach higher ground—and quickly,” he said grimly. “Once the storm has passed we will take the mountain pass to the south and reach the clanhall that way.”

  “But—how much longer will it take to get to the clanhall if we do that?”

  Ke’lar’s arm went around her, holding her firmly against him. “It does not matter if the alternative is not getting there at all.”

  He kicked the multari and the beast took off at such a speed that Summer was clutching the saddle, her head bent to protect her face from the pelting rain as Beya galloped toward the mountains.

  Summer never knew rain could hurt.

  But this rain sure as hell did and this wasn’t a storm—it was a goddamned hurricane.

  Ke’lar’s arm was like steel around her middle as he fought to control the multari one-handed. Summer didn’t know how he could even see where they were going. She was forced to ride curled forward in the saddle, her head bent to her shoulder, trying with her other arm to protect her face against the pounding rain, utterly blinded by the downpour. She ached from holding this position so long but she didn’t dare shift. It was all she could do against the wind to hold on.

  She was shivering, the new boots he’d given her heavy with sopped up water. He’d thrown a blanket around her shoulders when the rain had started getting bad but the sodden fabric did nothing to keep her warm and her teeth had been chattering so long her jaw hurt.

  Summer screamed as a flash and instant loud crack electrified the air. Her cry was swallowed up by the storm and her ears were ringing. The stench of ozone and charred wood mixed with the dampness and mud made her choke. The tree beside them swayed, then there was a loud crack and a whoosh as the tree fell, nearly crushing them beneath it.

  Ke’lar strained to keep the beast from bolting as the terrified multari spun away, her huge body trembling beneath them.

  He swung down from the multari and Summer gasped as the freezing rain pounded against her unprotected back. He yelled something to her but his words were carried off by the wind. Nearly blinded by the darkness and the rain, Summer reached out, fumbling for him.

  His fingers caught hers, strong and steady as ever. He pressed her hand for a moment, then let go. Holding her palm above her eyes and squinting against the rain, Summer saw Ke’lar take the multari’s reins and bend his body against the storm. A moment later Beya started forward again, the terrified animal moving as if by her master’s will alone.

  It went on like that, Summer huddled over the saddle, her fingers cramping from gripping the wet leather, Ke’lar, his shoulder to the wind, pulling on the reins to keep the multari moving.

  They were ascending again, although slowly. From the rocky path they rode upon, the swaying trees revealed the valley beneath, the water swelling the already turbulent river. Summer had seen flash floods on TV, seen the devastation a wall of water could do. The valley was flooding fast and if Ke’lar hadn’t insisted they turn toward the mountains they too would have been swept away with it.

  I would have been out here alone if I hadn’t stumbled into his campsite. I’d be dead . . .

  Ke’lar yanked Beya’s reins hard, urging the animal to the right. A glance to the left showed why—the path had narrowed as they climbed and there was a drop sharp enough to make Summer swallow hard.

  The beast stopped moving as Ke’lar’s arm went around Summer’s middle. He hauled her down from the saddle as if it were effortless.

  “I can’t see!” she cried, thankful at least to feel firm rocky path beneath her feet as he pulled her along. She stumbled on legs that felt wooden from the long ride and his hold tightened, his strength all that was keeping her upright. “Where are we going?”

  The howling wind took his answer, the rain and wind so heavy they had to lean into it to move at all. Ke’lar gripped her waist tightly and she knew if he let her go she’d be lost here in a nightmare of lightning and never-ending water.

  Summer had to fight to take every step, blindly clutching at him, wondering in a jolt of panic if a person could actually drown standing up.

  Suddenly they were out of the rain, Summer gasping at the dank air. She passed her hand over her forehead to clear the water from her eyes. The damp smell made her nose crinkle, the dirt soft and powdery under her new—now soaked—boots.

  “Oh my God,” she panted, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I never thought I’d be so happy to be in a freaking cave.”

  His bright glance went over her. “Are you all right?”

  “Soaked, freezing, but yeah. You?”

  “Also pleased to have shelter, even here.” His eyes narrowed as his gaze turned to the furthest reaches of the cavern. “If it proves unoccupied.”

  “Considering the alternative,” she offered with a glance at the wall of water at the cave entrance, “I’m willing to share.”

  “I am not,” he growled, pulling a luma from his belt to reveal the rock walls, the ceiling rising high above them. The cave extended many meters into total darkness. “Wait here.”

  “You got it. Not big on bats, personally. I bet on Hir they have glowing eyes too. Do me a favor, ’kay?” Summer, trembling a bit with cold and exhaustion, wrapped her arms around herself. “Don’t find any bats.”

  “I do not think we have that creature on our world.” Ke’lar advanced into the cave, his blaster in hand as he explored.

  She watched him go, his movements lithe, catlike, until the light he carried vanished and he was swallowed up by the darkness, leaving her alone in the gloomy, chilly cavern of an alien world. He moved silently, of course, a true g’hir warrior, but that was hardly reassuring. She’d feel a hell of a lot less creeped out if she could see or hear him.

  What if they weren’t alone in here?

  Crap, maybe I just should have gone with him and screw whatever Hir’s equivalent of bats is . . .

  Summer chewed her lip. Should she call out to him? Go after him? She didn’t even have a luma and her blaster was in her pack back on the multari. Her glance darted around, seeking a rock she could take along to defend herself if she had to go in search of him.

  “Are you okay?” she demanded at first sight of his light as he finally emerged from the cave’s depths to join her near the entrance. “You were gone so long!”

  He gave a short huff of disbelief as he joined her near the cave’s entrance. “A few minutes at most. Not long enough to distress you.”

  “Sorry, we humans have something called a horror movie.” Summer pushed her hair back behind her ears. “And trust me—being the braless blond
e in the wet shirt is always fatal.”

  Ke’lar’s vibrant gaze dipped to her breasts for an instant, to her nipples taut and apparent under the soaked material.

  Summer’s face went hot. Why the hell had she been talking about her boobs anyway? She might as well have just pointed at them.

  “This cave ends many meters from here,” he growled, looking back toward the darkness of the cave. “But there is no chance we would become disoriented or lost and we are alone here, thank the All Mother.” He holstered his blaster. “You are shivering, little one. I will set the heater to maximum when I return.”

  “When you—?” The cave opening showed nothing but gray rain and bursts of lightning. “You can’t go back out into that!”

  “Our supplies are out there.” He raised black eyebrows. “I think you will want to have food, a bed, as well as warmth tonight, will you not?”

  “I’d rather have you not dead.” She folded her arms. “You are not going back out there. We’ll just suck it up till the storm passes.”

  “I must find shelter for Beya as well,” he reminded with a gesture toward the downpour. “I will not leave her in this.”

  Summer shifted her feet. Leaving that poor creature out in that kind of weather wasn’t just cruel, it was criminal.

  “Can’t you just bring her in here? This place is huge.”

  “A smaller cavern would make Beya feel more secure. There are other caves nearby. I will find one to house her, settle her there, and return as soon as I am able.”

  She had barely started to warm up a bit but she gave a reluctant nod. “Okay, but I’m going with you.”

  “No, you will not,” he growled. “I cannot tend to a skittish multari and guard your safety as well. Going back with me endangers us both. You will remain here, where you are safe.”

  “Oh, yeah, nothing safer than two people trapped by a storm, miles from any help and with no comm, deciding to split up,” Summer snapped. “You know, you g’hir could learn a lot from watching a few human horror movies.”