Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2 (15 page)

“R’har!” she cried, her hands at her chest. “Jesus! You scared the hell out of me!” She looked back down the hillside they’d traveled up earlier. “Why didn’t you come up that way again?”

He blinked. “To better disguise our path.” He indicated the drop-off not far from where they stood. “I circled around and climbed.”

“You—” Hope took a few steps in that direction. Just peering over the edge made her stomach lurch. “You climbed up
that
? Without any climbing equipment? I didn’t even hear you coming up!” Her glance went over him but he didn’t look any more taxed than if he’d strolled up the hill. “You didn’t even break a sweat!”

He gave a shrug. “It was an easy climb.”

“Okay,” she said, drawing the word out with another glance over the cliff. “Sure.”

R’har smiled and held his hand out to her. “Come, I will set off the charges and we will enjoy our first forest together.”

When R’har destroyed the ship it wasn’t the tremendous attention-getting
kaboom
that Hope feared. The birds sure took off in a hurry when he set the thing off and even at this great distance she felt a startling wave of heat. For a moment there was nothing then the ship began to melt, collapsing inward into itself as it sunk into the now molten ground.

Her brow creased. “Just how hot did that thing get?”

“Hot enough to incinerate and disguise any organic material among the metal.”

A sudden thought stuck her. “Along with my engagement ring?”

“It is possible I forgot to retrieve the jewel before we abandoned the ship,” he rumbled.

Hope nipped her lip. “Apparently so did I.” She indicated the mass of superheated metal below. “But even if the Zerar do show up they won’t be able to tell us from the melted deck plating, right?”

“That is my objective, yes.”

R’har led the way, seeming determined to reach the thickest part of the forest the quickest way possible. The land was gently rolling and a bit hilly in places, the trees hardwoods, the air cool but not chilly. It reminded Hope a bit of the Northeast in early fall, although these trees didn’t show any sign of changing colors.

Except, of course, that the grass here wasn’t precisely green—more like a dark seaweed color and much softer to the touch. And, while some birds came in shades of brown, others glided among the branches in shades of bright scarlet, indigo, fuchsia. Even that might have seemed almost Earth-like—if their eyes didn’t glow too.

The forests had their share of furred creatures too, some in the trees, some on the ground. They didn’t come across anything the size of a bear but between the lengthened snouts and unnerving otherworldly eyes of the smaller creatures watching them as they passed, she really hoped they didn’t.

“It’s beautiful here,” Hope said, despite the uneasiness the animals caused. She breathed in the sweet, clean air. “Why did the g’hir want leave this place anyway?”

“There was no choice but to leave. The fall in population has forced us inward, closer to the homeworld. We cannot justify the expense maintaining outpost worlds, we are spread too thinly as it is. The decision was made to abandon many of our colonies so we might better protect Hir.”

“There’s really no one else on this world but us?”

It was a creepy feeling, knowing that it was just two of them marooned on an entire world.

R’har gave the tree cover above them a glance. “I pray so, for then the Zerar have left orbit and are searching for us spaceside.”

“If it was one of your colonies, then there are still buildings standing? Or cities?”

“They are empty,” he reminded. “And unmaintained. Even the largest settlements will have long since been overtaken by plant life and animals.”

Hope swallowed hard. “We’re on a world of nothing but ghost towns?”

He glanced back at her, his expression quizzical as he growled the English word. “‘Ghost?’”

“Some humans believe a person’s spirit gets—I don’t know—
stuck
to a place when they have suffered from a sudden death or great tragedy. That’s a ghost.”

“Then the Scourge has left every enclosure with such spirits.” He tilted his head. “Do you fear them, then, my Hope? The spirits that humans call ghosts?”

“My parents were doctors, R’har,
scientists
,” she sniffed. “They didn’t believe in any of that supernatural nonsense.”

He waited, his thick eyebrows raised.

“Okay, yes,” she mumbled after a long moment, her cheeks warming. “Yes, I think ghosts are real.”

“As do I,” he rumbled solemnly. “I have sometimes felt the souls of my family around me; my father watching with pride as I hunted, my mother’s hand on my cheek in times of despair, my sisters protectively following after me, even I as grew to be older than they ever did.”

A lump formed in her throat. “I don’t feel my parents. I used to wish that I did.” She pushed her hair back behind her ears. “Of course even if they are
spirits they wouldn’t let me know. That would mean I was right and they were wrong and there’s no way they’d admit
that
.”

“They were wrong to discourage you from being the artist you longed to be.”

Hope blinked. “They were just . . . they wanted me to be practical.”

He gave a disapproving huff. “There is nothing practical about a life spent unhappily.”

“There’s nothing yippee-skippy about not having enough money to eat either, R’har.”

“I am your lifemate now. You need never fear hunger again,” he growled. “You may pursue any interest you wish.”

Hope blinked. “Wait, you mean I’ll—I mean, your mate—would be able to work on Hir? What about Jenna? Does she work?”

“I am told Ra’kur’s mate intends to sell her confections in Be’lyn City.” He frowned at her, looking more than a little affronted. “Did you truly think yourself nothing but breeding stock?”

“I guess I—I just assumed that—”

“There are races among our allies who separate work by gender but the g’hir do not. We do not bar females from any profession. I will encourage you to undertake any work you wish—if it brings you happiness.”

“If women are allowed to do anything—Are there any female warriors? Maybe I could do that.”

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling at his startled—and alarmed—expression.

“It is not a common choice for a g’hir female but it is not completely unheard of in our history,” he allowed reluctantly.  “There are many years of training but if you wish to be a warrior, little one—”

“I’m kidding, R’har,” she said, laughing at how his shoulders instantly fell in relief. “Becoming a Hir warrior is
so
not for me. I got lost taking a short walk on my own damn planet, remember? Can you imagine me out spending a year alone in the wilderness hunting? Trust me, I’m much more suited to urban life,” she said with a glance at the thick woods around them. “It was
Megan’s
idea that we rent a cabin or I never would have been in Brittle Bridge in the first place. Give me crazy drivers and street muggers and I’m fine. You put me in the woods and I see Death lurking behind every tree. Too many teen horror movies, I guess.”

“You have nothing to fear.” His glowing gaze was serious now. “I am a powerful hunter. I will provide for you. I will protect you. It is my privilege, my honor, to do so for you.” 

“Yeah, well—you could probably hike around for weeks in peace. Me? I take a ten-minute walk, get attacked by bears and kidnapped by an alien.”

“Two of the creatures were young and helpless. Only the mother showed herself a threat.” He gave her a smile. “And I hope the alien is less unwelcome to you than upon your first sighting.”

Hope winced, suddenly remembering how she’d knelt on the wet ground, sobbing. “And you got to see me fall apart.”

“Do you believe I think less of you?” he asked, surprised. “Your strength through this ordeal has astonished me.”

Hope’s brow creased. “You’re kidding, right?”

“The attack, the crash, my injuries.” He gave her a searching look. “I greatly admire how you have endured it all.”

Hope gave an embarrassed half-shrug. “Yeah, well, thanks, but I don’t think I handled it well at all and that’s kind of a thing with me. Keeping a cool head. You know.” She tugged on one of her curls meaningfully. “’Cause of the hair.”

R’har gave her a puzzled look. “I do not understand.”

“Because of my hair,” she repeated. “Because it’s red.”

He looked at her blankly.

“You know—because redheads are supposed to have bad tempers. Because we’re supposed to be all fiery and fly off the handle and crap.”

R’har’s eyebrows rose. “Humans think you ill-tempered because of the pigment in your hair?”

“Why, what do they say about redheads on your planet?”

“No g’hir has hair this color, my Hope.” A fond smile touched his mouth and he reached up, his fingers just brushing the nape of her neck as he let the strands run over his fingers. “It is glorious; even now the sight of it in sunlight can hold me spellbound.”

She ducked her head, her cheeks hot.

He caught her wrist, his long fingers gentle. “This is a compliment.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I guess I’m just not used to them.”

His smile was a little rueful. “To the g’hir manner of compliments, you mean.”

“To any.” Hope avoided his bright gaze and turned to continue their walk. “So what’s the plan here anyway? Now that our ride has melted into a big lump of metal?”

“The relay station is located at the base of that mountain.” He indicated a summit in the distance. “It will be equipped with food, supplies, and medical equipment. From there we will send a signal to Hir and request rescue.”

“Hold on, won’t sending a signal let the Zerar know that we didn’t die in the crash?
And
exactly where we are?”

He shook his head. “With the equipment there I can ascertain if the Zerar have left orbit. I will only send a signal if it is safe to do so.”

“What if the Zerar get there first and destroy the place?” she asked, frowning. “I mean, that would keep anyone from knowing they were even here.”

“This world is within our territory. If the relay goes dark, a Hironian warship will arrive swiftly to investigate. Our weapons and technology still outpace theirs. They will not risk a confrontation with one of our warships. Not for a small ship that they will think has been destroyed and a crew that has perished.”

Hope glanced toward the distant mountain where the station was located. “Still, that’s a hell of a hike, it’ll take us days to get there. No,” she amended. “It’ll take
me
days to get there. How long would it take you, R’har?” she asked, curious. “If you were on your own and trying to get there fast?”

He eyed the distance. “The terrain is not challenging and the weather temperate. Six hours, perhaps seven. If not for the packs, I could carry you there easily but I am not willing to abandon our survival gear. The relay station should be intact but I prefer caution to speed.” He gave a half-smile. “Besides if the Zerar look for us they would be seeking a crew moving at g’hir speed, not a human pace.”

“Jeez.” Her brow creased. “It must drive you crazy to have to go so slow-pokey human speed.”

“I am honored—
blessed
—to walk beside you through this forest, through my life.” His fanged smile was joyful, his eyes soft. “I would have it no other way.” His smile faded. “Little one?”

She turned her face away quickly even though she knew he’d already seen her eyes welling up. “Well,” she said, forcing a light tone, “if we’re going to have to go at
my
pace, we should get started.”

Sixteen

R’har didn’t chide her about her speed—or lack thereof—though she tried to keep a brisk pace. He seemed perfectly content to walk beside her, asking questions about Earth. Telling her more about Hir, about life in his clan’s enclosure, about the other women who occupied it.

“Wait—” Hope broke into his story of when the next clanmother, Si’hala, came to the enclosure the previous year, her brow creased. “And with her there’s how many women in the Yir clan?”

“Five,” he rumbled, his bright eyes warm on her. “Now six.”

“But—” Hope began. “I thought you said there were a couple hundred warriors in your clan?”

“Yes, the Yir claim over three hundred.”

She stopped, her hiking boots covered with Olari’s dust. “There are three hundred warriors in your clan and only
five
women?”

“Six.”

“Are all the enclosures like that?”

“Most. Some have more females, as many as twenty. Some as few as one or two.”

Hope swallowed hard. “Are they fighting over women? I don’t mean contests and challenges over one woman, I mean whole clans fighting.”

“The Ruling Council has kept the peace between the enclosures,” he said guardedly.

“You mean just barely, right? And human women—how does adding us into the mix change things?”

“You are our salvation,” he growled. “And I vow you will be safe on Hir, little one. My clanbrothers will protect you from all threats.”

“All?” She searched his face, saw how his mouth settled into a grim line. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“Not every g’hir,” he began tightly, “has embraced the idea of our males lifemating with human women. There are among us some who are greatly opposed to the idea. They call themselves ‘Purists.’”

Hope put her hands on her hips. “Oh, that’s just fucking
grand
. A civil war brewing too? Just the kind of place to raise kids. I can’t wait to hear the news about the school district.”

“The Purists are a minority,” he said, a little sharply. “Fools who cannot see the past will never return. They do not pose a serious threat.”

“Right, just a nice, nonhazardous one.”

His jaw tightened and he indicated the way ahead. “We have another two hours before evening but I scent a running stream not far from here. We will stop early and make camp.”

Sighing, she followed as he made for a nearby clearing and hung back while he assembled their shelter for the night. In a few spare minutes he had the geodesic dome constructed and as soon as he finished the panels shifted in tone, perfectly blending with the landscape around it.

“Nice camouflage,” She was going to have be careful not to bump into the shelter even in daylight, it blended so well. “I’m guessing it’s waterproof?” 

“Yes, and can withstand wind speeds of up to four hundred kilometers per hour. It will hide our thermal signatures as well from even short-range scans.” He stood, holding the flap of the shelter open for her to enter.

She slid the pack from her shoulders and ducked inside. Meant to accommodate a g’hir’s size, the place was certainly spacious enough. “You spent a year in one of these?”

“This is an emergency shelter,” he said, taking her pack and organizing their supplies inside the space with quick efficiency. “It does not contain the comforts we will enjoy when we forest on Hir. That shelter will be larger, there will be multari to ride and to carry supplies for us. I will be able to bring a bed for you as the humans prefer.”

He laid out a single sleeping pallet for them, and just watching his broad, rough hands smooth it down for them to share sent a shiver of anticipation through her core

Just then he glanced up and his vivid gaze was hot. “Hungry for pleasure, little one?” His mouth curved a bit. “Or shall I catch us dinner first?”

Her cheeks burned. “Jesus, how do you do that—know when I’m thinking about sex the exact second I do? It’s seriously unnerving.”

“Your breath quickens, your pupils dilate a bit.” His eyes were amused. “Your scent warms . . .”

She cleared her throat. “You must be a good hunter. Clearly I can’t hide anything from you.”

“I am mate-bound to you. I am greatly attuned to you, to your physical changes.” He gave a wolfish grin. “And I am eager not to miss a moment of your heat.”

Hope looked down, suddenly and inexplicably shy. After all, he’d seen every part of her, and with his superior senses knew what she liked probably better than she did.

In the next moment he pushed open the tent covering to go outside.

“Come,” he said, offering his hand to her. “Tell me what would please you to eat and I will hunt it for you.”

Hope put her hand in his and joined him outside. “You don’t need to hunt, do you? Don’t we have food already in the packs?”

“I cannot prove my prowess to you by unwrapping a meal bar,” he said with a g’hir’s snort. “What will you have? Beast? Fish? Fowl? Name it.”

“I can name it, but I can’t cook it,” she warned. “I don’t even know how to build a fire.”

“To have a fire is an integral aspect of foresting.” He gave a regretful look. “But tonight we cannot risk a fire attracting our enemies eyes. I will use the portable cooker to prepare our supper.”

“If we can’t have a fire, that means you probably shouldn’t be shooting either,” she said with a meaningful look at his blaster. “How are you going to hunt anything?”

His fangs flashed in a grin. “With my own hands.”

“You’re going to hunt without a weapon?” she asked in disbelief.

In response he pulled a knife from his belt.

“My father’s,” he said in response to her unspoken question. He offered it to her with obvious pride. “It is the blade of a clanfather. I have been hunting with it since I was a boy.”

The blade was very sharp, about eight inches long, the heavily carved handle smooth from use.

“It’s beautiful,” she said honestly, handing it back.

He took the knife, his expression serious. “I am the son of a clanfather, little one, but I was too young to claim that place when he died. My father’s brother assumed the role of the Yir clan’s leader. His son has a lifemate, Si’hala, whom I spoke of earlier. She will be clanmother.”

“Oh,” Hope said, not really following. “Why do I feel like you’re apologizing to me about something here?”

“Lihr captured a female before I did, claimed a lifemate first. When my uncle dies and Si’hala’s mate becomes leader
she
will be clanmother.”

“So if the Scourge hadn’t happened or you’d been older when your father died,” she said, hoping she was getting it right, “or if you’d found a wife first then you’d be ruling the clan instead of this Lihr guy?”

“Yes.” His expression was guarded. “Are you disappointed that you will not have that role as you should, my Hope?”

“No,” she said, surprised. “Of course not.”

“There were some who protested my entering the competition to journey to your world.” The tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “There are many warriors in line to be clanfather . . . who do not yet have mates.”

She folded her arms. “I’m not going to throw you over to take a step up on Hironian social ladder, R’har. I’m just fine not being the lady of the castle, thanks.”

“Si’hala has not yet borne a child. If she does not before my uncle dies and you do, you will be clanmother.” His glowing eyes were worried. “Would being clanmother displease you greatly?”

What am I doing? It’s not like I’m really thinking of staying with him.

Right?

“Boy, I just can’t win here, can I?” she asked, covering her confusion with a short laugh. “Maybe we should just focus on dinner.”

“As you like.” He gave a faint smile. “What you would have me catch for you?”

Just then a flight of birds whizzed over their head, gone in an instant.

“I bet one of
them
would be tough to catch,” Hope said. “Human women must be a piece of cake in comparison.”

He gave a rueful smile. “It is not enough to capture a female. You must also keep her.”

“I meant to ask—the drink you gave me and the cookie-thing . . . was that part of it?”

“When a female takes food and drink from his hand, it symbolizes she acknowledges that warrior’s commitment to provide for her.”

“Well, that makes sense—now.” She considered for a moment. “Truth is I never really liked fish. So either meat or whatever on this planet tastes like chicken, I guess.”

His brow furrowed. “Chicken?”

“That’s a common Earth fowl. But for tonight I think meat would be great.”

He gave a nod and angled his body a little away from her. His bright eyes scanned the woods, and then, sniffing the air, he went very, very still.

Hope was about to ask what he was looking at when, with an explosion of speed, he took off. There was a crash of foliage as he plunged into the woods, the quick startled cry of an animal, and then he was walking back to her, his fangs showing in a grin, the brown furred creature hanging limply in the grip of his broad hand.

“Holy hell!” she gasped, her hand over her pounding heart. “That’s un-freaking-believable!”

He glanced at the animal he held. “The fregar is a small creature,” he allowed. “But we will not need to bring much meat with us. The planet was stocked with other, larger Hirionian animals when it was colonized but the carcass of a larger beast will attract scavengers.”

“R’har, you run like a fucking cheetah!”

His brow creased.

“Fast,” she got out before he could ask what a cheetah was. “Really, really—
fast
. I mean, I thought you were moved fast on Earth, but jeez, you’re—!”

R’har’s glowing eyes blinked.

“Never mind.” Hope shook her head. “Okay, so, yeah . . . you know”—she indicated the fregar he held—“good job hunting there.”

He gave her the same boyish grin he had on board the ship when she’d asked him if he’d caught her.

“I am glad it pleases you.” His eyes shone. “I would bring down any beast you ask, my Hope.”

She smiled back, knowing for once this was a g’hir’s idea of a compliment and a half, then glanced at the long-snouted creature with a dubious look. “You said you’re gonna cook, though, right?”