Captured: Warriors of Hir, Book 1

by Willow Danes

  She forced a laugh. “Yeah, I guess I . . .” She nodded out toward the woods. “But there wasn’t anything out there after all. So it’s okay!”

  His glance slid past her to the interior of the cabin. “Okay.”

  “Anyway!” she sang out. “Sorry I troubled y’all. I went through the woods, didn’t see smoke or nothin’.” She gave a shrug. “Must have been a tree falling. Done just startled me, is all.”

  Bill gave a slow nod and she knew his suspicion had just ratcheted up to high. “Coulda been.”

  “Right,” Jenna said after a moment. “So if there’s nothing else—?”

  “Actually, I’d be much obliged to you for a cup of coffee.” Bill indicated the snowy mountain behind him with a tilt of his head. “Awful cold this morning.”

  “Sure thing,” she agreed, nodding. “You wait right here and I’ll fetch you up some.”

  His hand shot out and caught the door before she could shut it.

  “You mind if I come inside and warm up a spell, Jenna?” he asked smooth as silk even as he held the door open against her push. “Like I said—awful cold out here this morning.”

  “Well, I’m not dressed . . .” He wasn’t going to buy that for a minute. Bill had seen her in a bikini out on the lake dozens of times over the years. Her robe and boots had her covered as anything.

  “Tell you what,” he offered. “How ’bout you let me in now, an’ you can go throw something on while’n I drink my coffee?”

  Her dad and Bill Riley had gone to school together. After her parents died he’d practically become an uncle. If she didn’t let him in now, he’d know something was wrong.

  “’Course.” She had to keep herself from looking toward the bedroom door as she stepped back. “Come on in.”

  He gave her a smile but his glance was already darting about and his hand hovered near the gun holstered at his hip as he entered.

  Shutting the front the door behind him, Jenna took a quick furtive look around the living room. The coffee table was still pushed out of place but she’d turned the TV off when she’d come out here this morning. Things looked pretty much like they always did.

  Bill sniffed at the air. “You baking something?”

  Jenna was about to shake her head but then she caught it too. The lingering scent of cinnamon.

  And sex.

  “Pancakes,” she mumbled, her face hot. “I—I was making pancakes. How about that coffee?”

  Halfway across the living room her stride faltered, as she remembered that Ra’kur’s breakfast was still sitting on the kitchen table.

  Two place settings? It would be plain as day she wasn’t alone here and with Pap gone Bill would take it onto himself to scrutinize any new boyfriend she had.

  If he knew there was a man in this house with her, Bill would want to meet him. And Bill Riley wouldn’t be taking no for an answer either.

  “Why don’t you have a seat?” Jenna threw over her shoulder. Bill was looking around, his eyes sharp. “I’ll be back in sec. You like it light and sweet, right?”

  She pushed the swinging door to the kitchen closed behind her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shut it and some of the paint flaked off the door when she did. From the cobwebs at the corner behind it had also been a long time since she’d remembered to clean there.

  Great, Bill will see I’m an alien-lover and a lousy housekeeper.

  She grabbed Ra’kur’s dishes off the table and threw his partly eaten pancakes into the trash. Jenna had his mug in hand, ready to toss Ra’kur’s coffee into the sink, when Bill pushed the swinging door open.

  Bill’s glance took in the room.

  “Sorry.” She forced a smile. “I got me a messy kitchen today.”

  “I seen worse. Thanks,” Bill said, taking the mug from her.

  “Oh, that’s—!”

  Bill paused, his eyebrows raised. “What?”

  Yeah, that’s what, Jenna? The alien’s cup o’ joe?

  “I think”—she tucked her hair behind her ear—“I might have added too much milk.”

  Bill took a sip. “No, I think it’s fine.”

  “Sure I can’t get you a fresh one?” she managed, watching him take a deep draft of Ra’kur’s coffee.

  “Nope,” Bill said, raising the mug a little in a toast. “Just perfect.”

  “Oh, good,” she said weakly.

  Bill took a seat at the table, his hands wrapped around the cup like he was settling in for a long chat. “So, you say you went out looking for the plane?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t find anything.”

  Even as she said the words she realized Ra’kur had to have come here somehow.

  God, there’s a fucking spaceship out there!

  Coming on the heels of that thought was the shocked realization that Ra’kur might not be alone. There could be dozens of his kind in the woods outside, spread through the mountains, heading for the town below—

  No, that didn’t feel right. Something in his eyes, the eagerness for contact, the struggle to communicate, told of a very lonely existence.

  “Did—did anyone else?” she stammered. “Find anything? Or call about it, I mean?”

  Bill shook his head. “Just you.”

  “Oh.” Jenna shifted her weight. “Well then, what are you doing here?”

  “You ain’t been answering your phone.”

  She glanced toward the avocado green dial-up that had hung on the kitchen wall for just about forever. “I had the phone turned off.”

  “I meant your cell.”

  “I dropped—I mean, I must have dropped it yesterday. Fell right out of my pocket. Out in the woods.”

  “Sarah Jane left a bunch of messages for you last night.”

  Jenna blinked then gave a little smile. “You and Sarah Jane a thing, Bill?”

  His face flushed. “I’m just saying she called you is all. Wanted to check up on you.”

  “Oh. Well, that was nice of her . . . and you. But, as you can see, I’m fine.”

  “We—a lot of people around here—been worried about you, Birdie.”

  Her throat tightened at hearing Pap’s nickname for her and her hand went to the charm around her neck. “I appreciate that.”

  “I know losing him was hard.” Bill tilted his head. “You doing okay?”

  The SUV’s keys felt heavy in her pocket. Twelve hours ago all she’d wanted to do was get ahold of them and make a run for it. Bill Riley, armed with a loaded gun, was sitting right here in her kitchen. All she had to do was tell him there was an intruder in the house, that some not-human was hiding in her bedroom, and Bill would rally to her defense.

  She and Bill could go through the mudroom and walk out the back door. Bill would call it in and the place would be surrounded.

  He was an alien, for God’s sake.

  He’d shot her, cuffed her to her bed, taken her keys to keep her from leaving.

  So why the hell am I still here? What is this, some kind of goddamn Stockholm syndrome thing?

  Jenna recalled how he’d held her hands yesterday, washing them as tenderly as one would bathe a beloved child. How he’d stroked her hair while she cried over Pap. How he’d solemnly growled their names, holding her palm over his heart, and later how he’d lain wide-eyed, naked and trembling in her arms, how he’d curled around her afterwards, cradling her against him.

  Bill would try to kill him. And even if Ra’kur were only wounded, they would call someone: FBI or CIA or whatever secret government department was set up in case of alien encounter and they’d take him away.

  They’d imprison him, study him, hurt him.

  The washroom was off the kitchen. She could grab some clothes from the dryer to put on, walk out the front door with Bill like there was nothing wrong, climb into the SUV, and drive away. Just not say anything to Bill about Ra’kur or to Ra’kur about leaving. She’d come back in a few weeks, after she was sure he was gone.

  Just walk away from this and not look b
ack.

  She swallowed hard. Somehow she knew how badly that would hurt him, enough he might rather have Bill kill him.

  “As okay as I can be,” she said hoarsely, then added: “I miss him like crazy.”

  Bill gave her a sad smile over his mug. “I know, Birdie. It’s never going to go away, it just doesn’t, but it will get easier.”

  If she wasn’t going to tell anyone about Ra’kur, if she wasn’t going to make a run for it, then she had to get Bill the hell out of here—and quick.

  She straightened. “Listen, I got a lot of packing to get to. Maybe we could meet up at Dolly’s Diner for lunch or something in a couple days? Talk some more then?”

  Bill took another swallow of his coffee then put the mug down and stood. “Sounds good. Want me to help you find your phone?”

  She had no clue where the vehicle or spaceship or whatever it was that brought Ra’kur here was but she sure couldn’t risk Bill seeing it.

  “No, I think I know where I might have dropped it. I’ll get dressed and head out in a couple minutes.” She took the car keys out of her pocket and held them up. “And if I can’t find it or it doesn’t work or something, I’ll drive into town and get one of those pay-as-you-go ones.”

  Bill gave a nod. “You call me either way, okay? Let me have the new number or give me a ring so I know the old one works.”

  “Sure thing.”

  She followed him to the front door and risked a sideways glance at her still-shut bedroom door.

  Bill opened the front door, letting a blast of cold air into the cabin.

  “Bill, if you see Lester Mills, could you let him know I’m not going to be putting the place up for sale for a bit?” she asked. “Just if you see him over at Dolly’s Diner or something. I’ll give him a call later to let him know. Once I find my phone, of course.” She wrapped her arms around herself against the chill and offered a half-shrug. “I just . . . I need some more time here.”

  He gave her a respectful nod. “If I see him, I’ll let him know.”

  She locked the door behind him and waited, looking through a crack in the curtains as Bill got into his cruiser and called in. It seemed an eternity until he started the car and backed up. It wasn’t until his cruiser was out of sight that she let herself breathe easy.

  She hurried to open the bedroom door and gave a startled cry as a snarling blur leapt at her.

  Seven

  Ra’kur lifted her right off her feet, wrapping her in a bear hug, his face buried in her neck, and she could feel the trembling tension in his big body. She wound her arms around his neck and he nuzzled her throat, breathing in her scent as if it were the only thing in the universe that could comfort him.

  “Yeah,” she whispered, stroking his black hair. “I was really scared too.”

  He made a huffing sound and set her on her feet. He growled, his tone sharp, angry, his electric eyes and fangs flashing.

  “Oh, let me guess.” Jenna put her hands on her hips. “You’re mad at me now ’cause you were scared.”

  Ra’kur gestured toward the front door, growling in his own language.

  She couldn’t understand him of course but she was getting the gist just fine and she threw her hands out. “What do you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry’? A family friend—one armed with a gun, may I point out?—just showed up at the door. I couldn’t not let him in!”

  He gave a snarl punctuated with finality and with heavy footfalls stalked off to the kitchen.

  “Hey!” she cried, outraged. Goddamn it, why do men always do that? “You don’t just get to walk off in the middle of this!”

  She arrived in the kitchen just in time for his annoyed snorf at seeing the pancakes he hadn’t finished in the trash, and then his gaze fell on his coffee cup. He picked it up and took a sniff.

  He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Oh, come on! You didn’t even like—Yeah! He drank your damned coffee! It’s not like I gave it to him. Bill walked right in”—Jenna threw a wave at the swinging door and then at the cup Ra’kur held—“and there I was—holding a cup of coffee! Of course he thought it was for him, because no one else was supposed to be here!”

  Ra’kur’s nostrils flared. He put the cup in the sink and folded his arms to glower down at her.

  She glared right back.

  Then she bit the inside of her cheek.

  Finally, Jenna put her hand to her mouth but it didn’t do any good. She burst out laughing.

  “Look at us; we’re arguing and we can’t even talk yet,” she said, putting her face in her hands for a moment and then flinging her hair back. “I can’t wait for the fights we’ll have when we can actually understand each other.”

  He looked equal parts amused as if he caught the absurdity of the situation and offended as if he were still too mad to be conciliatory.

  In the next moment he caught her face in his hands and rubbed his nose against hers. He caught her mouth in a light kiss but he didn’t start that rumbling-purr again.

  Maybe he was worried Bill would come back.

  He touched his forehead to hers. “Sssttaayy mmeee.”

  She blinked. He hadn’t said a sentence, even a simple two-word one like that one, before.

  “What? What did you say?”

  “Jenna.” He held her face in his hands, his words rolling like soft thunder. “Stay me.”

  “I’m sorry, Ra’kur.” She searched his eyes. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

  He took her hand and pressed her palm to over his heart. “Jenna. Ra’kur. Stay me.”

  “You’re asking me to stay with you? Is that what you mean? Or you noticed that I did stay with you?”

  His frustration was evident and he looked pretty discouraged.

  “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “Jenna stay.”

  He gave a faint smile then, as if he knew this abbreviated language wasn’t what she would use either.

  “Sorry about your breakfast,” she said with a nod toward the trash can. “Can you hold out until lunch? I need to grab a shower and try to find my phone.”

  He gave a regretful look at the lost pancakes but he let her lead him back to the bathroom. Ra’kur stuck his hand in the water when Jenna turned on the shower. He was busy spreading his fingers under the warm spray and missed her pulling off her boots and robe.

  “’Scuse me,” she said, sliding past him.

  He blinked at her as she stepped into the shower, his blue eyes flaring with interest and desire. She pulled the curtain partway closed, allowing him to see without completely soaking the rest of the bathroom. Jenna stepped into the water and tilted her head back to let the shower wet her hair.

  She couldn’t help but smile at Ra’kur’s longing expression and held out her hand to him. “Want to join me? Best get in while the water’s good and hot.”

  He hesitated, then glanced at the water running over her breasts.

  “Come on, you don’t have any objection to getting wet, do you?”

  He turned his head toward the door, sniffing, then threw her a hot smile.

  “I guess that means Bill won’t be paying us another visit,” she said as he pulled his clothes off.

  It was her first time seeing him like this, standing naked in the light of day. He was so beautifully male. He had to duck a little under the shower curtain but the ceiling over the shower was plenty high enough. She was now extra glad that when they made the addition to the house they’d kept the old-fashioned tub separate and added this large shower stall instead.

  Still, there wasn’t a ton of room in here once you added a seven-foot-tall alien to it.

  He blinked against the spray coming off her shoulders. She urged him to switch places with her so his back was to the water instead. By reaching around him while he ducked she managed to get his hair wet using the blue plastic cup she sometimes used to hold homemade hair conditioners. He watched as she poured shampoo into her palm and rubbed it between her hands.

 
; He bent obediently when she gestured so she could reach, his face close to hers as she washed his hair.

  He was over a foot taller than she, heavily muscled, and all the while his alien eyes reflected innocent curiosity and complete trust. He held very still for her ministrations, closing his eyes briefly, and made a rumbling sound of pleasure as she massaged the shampoo into his scalp.

  She rinsed his hair, careful to keep the soap out of his eyes and followed with conditioner just in the ends of his hair.

  Jenna lathered up the soap. “Close your eyes.”

  He tilted his head and she held two fingers up toward her own eyes then closed them to demonstrate what she wanted. As soon as his eyes were shut she started soaping his face.

  He tensed a bit when she first touched him but soon relaxed. His skin was smooth, the bones and ridges of his forehead very different from a human’s, but his cheekbones and jaw felt similar. She still didn’t feel any stubble on his face or neck. He had light hair on his chest and very little hair below.

  Maybe they just don’t get beards.

  She rinsed his face and he shook his head a little, blinking against some of the spray in his eyes.

  She moved with the soap over his neck and chest, over the taut muscles of his belly, and then, with a mischievous grin, lower still. He was already aroused and his gaze went hot, his rumbling starting even before she wrapped her fingers around his shaft. His mouth parted in a half-moan half-purr as she stroked him with soapy hands. His hands clasped her shoulders, his cock growing harder still in her grasp. He rumbled deeper, his breath picking up speed, and he pressed his shaft into her hands. She cupped him where he was soft and a few more strokes had him coming in hot spurts against her belly.

  He was still gripping her shoulders, gasping with his release. She slid from under his hand and went on tiptoe to press a kiss to his mouth. He gave a clumsy nose rub in return and she noticed his legs were shaking. She got another lather and finished washing him, even his feet, an action that really had his expression delighted.

  He caught her in a hug and dropped a kiss to her wet hair. Then with an absorbed, focused expression he repaid her in kind.