Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3 (5 page)

“Have I hurt you?” Ke’lar asked at her frown. “I apologize. I did not intend to.”

“No.” She shook her head, relaxing her brow. “No, you didn’t.”

He bent to gather her into his arms. “You must tell me immediately if I do.”

But his hold was as careful as if he bore one of their precious few g’hir young as he carried her back to his shelter. He ducked inside and leaned down to place her on the sleeping pallet as if she weighed nothing at all. Apparently before he had returned to the river with the cleansing lotion and towel he’d taken the time to shake the furs clean of the mud that had flaked off while she’d rested here.

He settled her on the pallet sitting up, then adjusted the light so it would shine more directly on her. He had a case of medical supplies in hand and knelt in front of her, already lifting the lid.

“I will begin with the abrasions and bruises on your face. I have a mild oral analgesic suitable to human physiology.”

Summer rubbed at her sore shoulder. “I’ll take a handful, thanks.”

A frown touched his rippled brow. “That would be far too high a dose for your body weight.”

“I’m kidding,” she assured, putting out her hand for the medication. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got. And something for the damn bug bites too, if there is anything.”

“I have salve for that.”

He gave her a single pill and handed her the water pouch to wash it down. For each cut and blister he applied a sterilizing ointment and then a sealant to protect and cushion the flesh even as it sped healing. Summer sighed in relief as the salve took away the miserable itch from the bites.

“I do not even know your namesound,” he commented, his fingers gentle on her cheek. His glowing gaze met hers and he inclined his head to her. “I am Ke’lar, of the Erah enclosure.”

“Yeah, I heard Ar’ar call you that. I’m Summer.”

“Summer . . .” He applied healing salve to her shoulder, cradling her arm in his large hand. “Did they give you that namesound because your hair is as bright as the sun in that season?”

She gave a short, surprised laugh. “No, I was born bald. The blond happened later. Lucky thing too, they probably would have named me Marilyn instead.” At his puzzled glance she explained, “After Marilyn Monroe, the actress. A human female very famous for having blond hair.”

He tilted his head. “You would not have liked that namesound? It is pleasant enough.”

She gave another laugh. “Not really, too many expectations on me—to be this blond
and
named Marilyn. But to answer your question they named me Summer ’cause I came two weeks late—my birthday is June twenty-first. That was the summer solstice the year I was born, the first day of summer. Well, at least in the region of Earth I’m from.”

“You do not have a second name? The other human females seem to have a second clan name, as well.”

“My full name is Summer Elizabeth Mills. I was Summer Elizabeth Baker for a brief stint there but it’s Mills again.”

Ke’lar’s brow furrowed. “Were you adopted into another clan?”

“I’m divorced.” He looked at her blankly and she sighed. “Okay, ‘Summer’ we already covered. My middle name is to honor my grandmother, Elizabeth. My family name is Mills but when I married I took my husband’s family name, Baker.”

He blinked. “You have a human mate, Summer?”

“Oh, hell no! Not anymore anyway, and thank God that’s over with! Dean is some piece of work—as Uncle Lester says. Dean actually manages to make Ar’ar look good in comparison and Ar’ar is a kidnapping alien monst—”

Ke’lar’s luminous gaze met hers and she broke off, her face heating.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“A salve will aid the healing here,” he said, indicating the ugly purplish bruise on her shin.

He took his time, thoroughly examining and treating even the smallest scrape. And she had dozens of them. On her face from the branches, on her arms and elbows and shoulders where she’d caught herself against the balcony, and other injuries that she couldn’t begin to say where she’d picked up.

“You do not like my kind,” he said finally, applying a bandage seal to the blister on the back of her right heel. “The g’hir.”

Despite his mild tone, his gentle touch, her nostrils flared. “I didn’t get a chance to like—or not like—your kind! I was at my uncle’s house, just heading out to the shed for firewood, and then a humongous
demon
full of teeth and glowing eyes was coming at me and roaring. I was screaming, running for the house, and something hit me hard in the back. When I woke up I was fucking
handcuffed
! And when I
begged
to go home he explained how he and I were going to breed new g’hir! That’s why he took me away from—away from home! To breed with him!”

His expression was shuttered. “Other human women have found g’hir mates pleasing to them.”

“But you aren’t sorry, are you?” Summer narrowed her gaze. “For what he did to me. For what your kind is doing to other human women. None of you are.”

“You are our last hope,” he said, but he didn’t meet her eyes. “In all our searching only human women have proved compatible mates. You are our only chance of survival.”

“If the cost of your survival is the brutal exploitation of another species,” she gritted out, “what the hell makes you think you even
deserve
to survive?”

“What would humans do?” His eyes flashed blue fire. “If faced with this choice? Would you breed with another species like my kind or watch your own become extinct?”

“Oh, I’m not playing all high and mighty on you. Based on stuff like, I don’t know—the Holocaust—I’m sure we humans would be just as uncivilized, just as selfish and brutal, as you g’hir are. But that doesn’t make it right and I’d have a lot more respect for
your kind
if you’d just admit what you’re doing is wrong.”

His face was stormy. “No human female has ever been mistreated on Hir. You are honored, cherished, coveted—”

“Never mistreated—?” Her face went hot. “What the fuck would
you
know about it?”

“My brother’s mate, Jenna, is human,” he growled. “She loves Ra’kur and their daughter. She is happy and content living with my clan.”

“Jenna?” The name came like a punch in the stomach. “Wait, you don’t mean—Jenna McNally? Jesus, I
know
her! We were best friends as kids. We hung out every summer, whenever she and her grandfather came up from Asheville. We traded friendship bracelets when we were twelve. I don’t believe this! I mean . . . I haven’t seen her since I moved to Alexandria, not since before I—” She shook her head. “And when Uncle Lester told me last year that Jenna disappeared . . . I mean she was always so level-headed, so responsible, I
knew
she wouldn’t have just up and left. I—we all—thought . . . She’s
here
? Holy hell, everybody back home thinks she’s rotting out the woods somewhere!”

Summer’s whole body went cold.

And I’ve been gone a week already! What will they think—what would
anybody
think—with the house door unlocked, holiday cards on the table, the lights and TV on, and me nowhere to be found . . .

Oh my God, if they think I’m dead —

“You have become very pale.” He was frowning. “Do you feel ill? Or faint?”

“No.” Summer swallowed hard. “I’m—homesick. I just want to get back as quickly as I can.”

“I understand.”

Her gaze snapped to his. “You—you do? You mean . . . you’ll help me? You’ll help me get back to Earth?”

“And force my clan into a war with the Betari?” He shook his head. “No, little one, I am taking you back to your mate.”

Four

“
What?
”

“Ar’ar captured you in accordance with our customs and laws.” Ke’lar’s mouth was tight. “By your own word he has not mistreated you. You must be returned to him.”

Summer’s hands clenched. “You call kidnapping me, keeping me prisoner, not mistreating me?”

“Prisoner?” His bright eyes were alert. “How were you held prisoner?”

“How about not letting me go back to Earth?” she cried. “I wasn’t even allowed to leave the enclosure!”

He turned away, focused on gathering and repacking the medical supplies back into their case.

“Ar’ar would not wish to risk one so precious. Keeping you safely at the Betari enclosure would be prudent,” he said evenly. “You are a great temptation to unmated males. Likely even those within his own clan have coveted you for themselves but they at least are held sway under enclosure loyalty and clan directive. And there have been assaults on human women by the Purists—”

“Purists?” Summer stared. “Who the hell are the Purists?”

He met her gaze, surprised. “Did the Betari never speak of them to you?” At her headshake, he frowned. “The Purists are g’hir who have united in their disapproval of this new breeding with humans. They seek to end all such matings and purge our world of the human influence and offspring.”

“No,” she breathed. “Nobody said anything to me about that at all.”

Why am I so offended by that anyway?

The g’hir were huge, hulking, fanged alien beasts with rippled foreheads. The very idea of reproducing with Ar’ar was repugnant, but that some of their people should feel the same way about humans, the same way about
her
—

“Likely the Betari did not wish to worry you with talk of them.” He sealed the case and stood, holding it between his hands. “Their enclosure is well protected, you were safe there, in your home clanhall. I am actually surprised you were able to escape.”

“You can hardly call it my home
and
say I escaped from it in the same breath.” Her fingers clenched in the soft fur of the covers. “So that’s it, huh? You aren’t going to do anything about this? You’re just going to patch me up and send me right back to Ar’ar?”

“There is nothing to be done,” he growled sharply. “Not without breaking g’hir law. Not without causing a blood-soaked rift between two clans who have been at peace since the Scourge. Ar’ar captured you. You are his now.”

Summer felt her nostrils flare. “I’m not
anybody’s
but
mine
! And I want to return to Earth!”

“Then tell Ar’ar you wish to go home!” Ke’lar’s snarled. “Tell
him
of your decision to abjure a g’hir mate and return to your homeworld.”

“I
have
told him! I’ve told anybody who would fucking listen!”

He gave an impatient huff and his voice fell to a grumble as he began packing the foodstuffs within the shelter. “You have only a moon’s cycle of time with Ar’ar before your Day of Choosing. On that day announce that you wish to return to your own world. Your memory will be wiped of our world, of us. He must let you return then.”

“No, he won’t! Who do you think relays that ‘choosing’ crap to people
outside
the enclosure? A Council member! And guess who the Betari’s clanfather is? Council member Mirak! He’s already told me that it doesn’t matter what I say, he’s going to go out there and tell everyone I chose Ar’ar!”

That stopped him cold, his face shocked. “He cannot. It would break the All Mother’s sacred decree. It would be an offense to the Goddess and violate Hir law. Even Mirak would not dare!”

“Oh, really? Have you met the son of a bitch?”

She could see from his expression that not only had he met the Betari clanfather, he was sifting through what the man was capable of, what he might do to ensure the continuation of his own bloodline . . .

Summer folded her arms. “Yeah, probably starting to see the reason for the whole ‘escape’ thing, now, huh?”

“I cannot deny that they lied to me as to what they sought,” he allowed. “I still cannot fathom why they would not admit they sought the mate of Ar’ar . . .”

“Maybe because they’re a bunch of kidnapping, lying sleezebags.”

He studied her for a moment then gave a reluctant nod. “Very well.  You have persuaded me.”

Summer blinked. “You mean you’ll—”

“I will take you to the Erah clanhall,” he interrupted. “There you may make your decision known to our clanfather.
He
will see to it your choice is heard by the Ruling Council. You need only wait until the moon’s cycle ends and then you will be returned to your world.”

Summer’s hands clenched into fists.
Jesus, what does it take to get through to this guy?

“I shouldn’t have to wait at all! It’s my choice—my
life
—and I don’t have another—what, three weeks?—for this bullshit! I have to be back in Brittle Bridge in seven days!”

“
Brittle
Bridge?”

She waved her hand impatiently. “It’s the town—territory—where I come from.”

“Why?” he asked, frowning. “Why seven days? What demands you return within that time?”

Summer pressed her lips together and a heaviness seemed to settle over him.

“You do not trust me enough to say.”

“Look at it this way—” she began with a toss of her head. “I trust you a hell of a lot more than I’ve ever trusted any g’hir.” Her throat tightened. “Just believe me when I say I
have
to get back there in seven days. No matter what it takes.”

“I will take you to the Erah clanhall,” he promised. “I will see to it that you can make your plea to my father.”

“But—will he help me get home? Get home in time?”

“I do not know,” Ke’lar said quietly. “My father is a good man, a fair and compassionate ruler. I know he will do what is right.”

It sure wasn’t much, but at least it was something. At least he wasn’t sending her back to Ar’ar.

Still—

“How long will it take us to get to the Erah clanhall? I don’t have a lot of time.”

He considered. “Three days, at least.”

“Three days! Isn’t there a faster way?”

He shook his head. “I cannot allow the Betari proof of your presence in our territory, not until we have reached the stronghold of our clanhall, not until we have spoken to my father. We must go deeper into Erah lands first to avoid the places where our territories touch those of the Betari, then we will head south to the clanhall. To do this—to keep you safely from their sight—will add a day to our travels. I have only one mount and she must carry the supplies of the camp, as well as us. We can only push her so hard for so long. She will need the nights to rest.” He glanced toward the shelter’s opening, to the moonlight brightening the landscape beyond. “It is late but I think she will be able to carry us a few hours tonight. The sooner we are away from the border of their lands, the safer we will be.”

Sure wasn’t what she’d hoped for, but riding with him on a multari was going to be a hell of a lot faster than trying to get anywhere alone on foot. And there was a chance, maybe even a good one, that she could convince Ke’lar’s father to intervene on her behalf, to get her home in time . . .

“Okay.” She gave a nod. “What can I do to help?”

“Stay out of my way,” he said bluntly. “I can break camp faster if I work alone. I will begin by saddling the multari and getting her ready to load our supplies.” He glanced at her. “You said you had other clothes. You can get dressed.”

Summer’s face went hot. She’d almost forgotten that she was still sitting here in just a towel.

“Right,” she mumbled. “Uh, my boots and my other clothes are still out on that rock—”

“I will tend to your clothes but you should not wear the boots until the medpatches have had some time to repair the injuries to your feet. ” He started pulling things from where they hung about the shelter, pulling packs and supplies together. “We will likely travel hours before I judge it is safe to rest in any case.”

He offered her the pack she’d brought with her, still covered with dried mud. “Empty this and I will clean it as well.”

She reached out to take the bag but he kept hold of it and, confused, she met his eyes.

“Do not underestimate the risks we take,” he growled. “The enmity between our clans is ancient and runs very deep. Despite the treaty that forbids their trespass into Erah territory I do not trust the Betari not to breach our borders in search of you.  If we do not reach the Erah clanhall and the protection of my clanbrothers—if they find you with me, the Betari will be incensed; they will accuse me—and with good cause—of stealing you. It will give them every right by law to invade our territory, exact revenge, and take you back by force.”

Summer’s mouth tightened. “I don’t suppose anyone will even stop to consider that I might have a say in this.”

A flash of . . .
something
passed over his features, gone so fast that she, who had so little experience with their species, couldn’t begin to discern it.

“They must not find us,” he continued. “And if we are to succeed, if we are to reach the Erah clanhall, you must vow to follow my orders at all times. You must obey me instantly, without question.”

“Like a slave? Like a good g’hir mate?”

“Like one who is wholly unfamiliar with the wilderness of Hir,” he said, annoyed. “If a fethon slithers within inches of you I cannot take the time to formally ask that you hold still before I shoot it. If I ask you to stop, you will stop. If I say run, you will run. Are we agreed? Or shall we pass the night here so that you may think on it till morning?”

She wanted to argue, she really did, but Summer was practical enough to admit that she’d been lucky as hell when she’d run into the cay’ik. If she’d missed, or just wounded it, she’d be a cay’ik snack right now. Like it or not, this was an alien warrior who knew his own world very well. He knew the way—and the dangers—and he was willing to risk his life to take her to his family’s clanhall, the safest way he knew how.

All she had to do, for once in her life, was shut the hell up, follow the rules, and they would both come out of this fine.

Man, we are so screwed . . .

“Sure.” She gave a nod. “Fine. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the Jungle Jim of Hir.”

Clearly he caught the sarcasm, even if he didn’t get the reference. His jaw tightened.

Suddenly she sobered. There was a countdown happening and just talking here was wasting precious time.

“Yes,” she said, solemn now. “You lead, I’ll follow. I’ll do whatever you say. Just get me to the Erah clanhall. Help me get home.”

“I will bring you safely to the clanhall and to my father,” he said, plainly unwilling to promise more.” His gaze swept over her. “Get dressed. We depart as soon as I finish breaking camp.”