Alien Intent (Captured by Aliens Book 3) (10 page)

Waving
her arms and jumping up and down futilely, she stood staring blankly at the sky
before she remembered Dar had stuffed the dragon call into his pocket. The
silhouettes limned by the sun grew smaller, she realized. She had no idea how
far away they were, and if they would even be able to hear the call. Renewed
urgency quickened her search. She dropped to the ground and dug into his
pockets, grasping the small cylinder and victoriously withdrawing it. Sucking
in a deep breath, she blew as hard and long as she could before whistling again,
staring at the sky with hope bursting in her chest. The call made no sound her
ears could detect, but she knew from Dar’s previous attempt that was normal.

Overhead,
the shadows wheeled in the sky like vultures, circling in a downward spiral
straight for them.

The tree
canopy rattled from great gusts of wind. She squinted at the shapes, shielding
her face until the worst of the blasting wind died down. Jasmine never thought
the sight of dragons would make her happy, but when the three zhala finally lit
upon the ground, casting up dust and debris with their great wings, she ran
straight for them.

A man
with close-cropped ashen hair jumped off the lead dragon. “Jerik Warsong. Your
cousin, Samara, sent us for your rescue. Where is Captain Tagnon’s zhala?”

She
waved her hands. “It flew off to mate or something.” Words spilled out of her
in a rush. “Dar is hurt. He was gored by that thing over there. You need to get
him to a doctor as soon as possible. I already dug the horn tip out of the
wound.”

He
looked impressed and surprised. “That’s good. I need my field kit to do more.
Damned fool. I told him that zhala was ready to bolt, but he insisted. You two,”
he gestured to his comrades. “Stop gaping and come here. I’ll need you to lift
him to the zhala after I bind his wounds for travel.” Jerik grabbed a small box
from his saddle and rushed to where Dar lay unconscious. The other soldiers
followed them and watched silently.

Jerik’s
words didn’t register until relief began settling in that they were rescued.
When she finally thought them over, a sick sensation gripped her stomach. “Did
he know the zhala was ready to mate?”

Jerik
cut the shirt off Dar, revealing scattered contusions across his middle as well
as the raw, gaping wound. It wasn’t bleeding as bad as it was, and she wasn’t
sure if that was good or bad. Was he near death’s door? Jerik didn’t look up, sprinkling
a white powder that slowed the bleeding. He then placed gauze and tape over the
wound. “He had a good idea this would happen. I told him the creature was
raring at the bit to mate, but he took it anyway. Does it matter now?” He
motioned for the two men to lift Dar’s unconscious body. They grunted and
strained and carried him to one of the dragons.

“Not
right now it doesn’t,” she said in a quiet voice. Later. She would deal with
him later if this didn’t kill him first. For now, concern and near death were
his only protection.

***

Jasmine
didn’t see Dar when she landed with Jerik in the stables, but Samara and Cyndy
were there and they rushed her with tight hugs that temporarily erased the ice
forming inside her heart.

“I was
so worried about you,” Samara said, pulling back to look at her face. She
paused when Jerik hovered nearby, giving him a withering look. “Thank you for
bringing her back safe,” she said, tight lipped.

He
nodded, keeping his face impassive. “You should return to the palace now.
Arkane can see you back safely.”

Arkane
was obviously the guard standing nearby with a staff and a boyishly young,
unwrinkled face. Jasmine ignored him, looking at Jerik. “Where can I find
Captain Tagnon? I want to check on him and thank him for planning me such an
adventure.”

Jerik
visibly clenched his jaw muscles, holding his hands behind his back in a
relaxed military pose. Something indefinable flitted in his eyes. She was
certain it was suspicion. This guy was good at keeping secrets. “It’s not my
place to say.”

He was
covering for his boy. She
knew
it. She’d had enough experience with men
to know when they were lying or refraining from the truth. “Where are his
quarters? Or the hospital? I’ll go myself and find out.”

“That
information is with headquarters. In the palace.”

“Why
can’t you just tell her?” Samara asked, lifting her chin.

He
remained silent.

It would
be so easy to give in to the violence she felt inside, but she’d been raised
better than that. These people wouldn’t make her revert to a mindless animal.
“Thank you for your services.”

“You’re
welcome, madam,” he said. He spun on his heel and returned to his duties.

“That
cat gave me the runaround earlier. Fucking asswipe. Come on, girl. Grail can
take us to the hospital, right?” Samara said. They all turned to the awaiting
guard.

Jasmine
sighed, raising a hand. “It’s okay. Let’s return to our room. I need to clean
up and eat before I do this. Give myself enough time to calm down.”

“Don’t
you want to make sure he’s okay?” Cyndy asked, twirling a strand of hair and
shifting foot to foot.

Jasmine
shook her head. She promised herself she didn’t care as much as she did—she
knew how to be hard and unfeeling. At least, she’d been successful at steeling
herself against hurt in the past. A betrayal was a betrayal. She had no idea
why he’d deceived her and plotted out this course of events. “If he made it
this far, he’ll probably be okay. Hell, for that matter, he might be better off
just croaking. I’m going to rest up, let him get good and rested, and go find
him so I can find out why he did this without worrying about him faking dying
to get out of my wrath.”

Samara
and Cyndy exchanged a look. Arkane audibly swallowed. Jasmine looked at her
hands, covered in Dar’s blood, as numbness crawled over her soul.

***

Jasmine
peered through the crack in the door, ignoring the guard she’d had to bring
with her to travel to the hospital. The fact that she couldn’t walk through the
streets without protection irked her nearly as much as seeing Dar’s nearly
naked form sleeping in the wide bed. Propped up on two thin pillows with a
blanket draped over his legs, his chest was left bare. Even with the distance,
she could see blue and purple smudges on his tanned skin from wrestling with
the animal, and a wide band of white gauze and tape circled his waist.

She
stepped quietly inside, flinching at the tiny squeak of the door as the lock
engaged. Turning, she breathed shallowly, as if that would lighten her steps
across the tiled floor. Luckily, her soft soled shoes kept her progress
silent—she didn’t want to waken him just yet. She stood within arm’s reach of
him, staring down. This close, dark circles were evident beneath his eyes—from
dehydration and lack of sleep. She hoped he’d been plagued by nightmares just
like her. Black bristles speckled his jaw, around his mouth, and down his neck.
His lips were chapped, and his hair hung in tangles around his eyes and
temples. He looked like hell. Like sexy, hurt, bed-ridden hell.

As hard
and vicious as she wanted to be right now, all she could dwell on was how much
pain he must be in and this enraging need to soothe that hurt away. She was
pissed that she felt any kind of softness towards him.

Almost
as though he could hear her cursing herself out, his eyes fluttered open. For the
first time she noticed they weren’t grey as she’d thought, but a gun metal
blue. Fringed by thick black lashes, they were entrancing, and she had to fight
to look away.

“Good
morning, beautiful,” he croaked, barely a whisper.

“It’s
afternoon,” she said, pouring him a glass of water from the bedside table. He
wasn’t hooked up to any machines like a standard hospital—in her experience at
least. The fact that he wasn’t hard-wired in with an IV, heart monitor and more
gave her the sense that he wasn’t nearly as bad off as he looked.

He
drained the glass greedily then shrugged. “It’s all the same in here as long as
the sun is up. Thanks. I needed that.”

She took
the glass from him and returned it to the table, taking pride with the fact
that she didn’t slam it down or break it. “So how bad is it?” she asked,
crossing her arms.

“I’m on
the mend, thanks to you and the others. You saved me. I owe you my life,” he
said quietly, holding a hand over the wound as he breathed. He held his free
hand up for her to take. She did, noting the coolness of his palm.

“Maybe
just an explanation would do,” she said tightly.

He
raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Of why
you’d take me on a tour with an animal that was ready to fly off and leave us
stranded at the first opportunity. I talked to Jerik Warsong. He told me
everything,” she lied.

He kept
his face carefully neutral. “Jerik talked to you? I have my doubts.”

“So I’m
a liar now?” She tried to jerk her hand free, but his grip tightened, refusing
to relinquish his hold. As much as she wanted to fight, she didn’t want him to
strain and hurt himself any more than he had.

“No. It
is only that he has a general dislike for women and strangers. This is the
truth. I did choose the zhala.”

“Why?”
she asked, loud and angry.

He sighed
heavily, wincing and holding his stomach as if the deep breath pained him. “To
strand us. I thought if we were forced out on our own, I would shine as your
hero. It was a stupid boy-minded antic to win the girl.”

For some
reason, she believed him. She laughed at that. “You’re an idiot. Why the hell
would you think traipsing me through the wilderness would win me over? We could
have died!”

“Better
to see our world from the ground than the air. Is it not the same on your
planet? On foot, you can see how far we’ve come, and what we are trying to
save. It is the truth I tell. I sensed an adventurous soul in you.”

She was
silent for a moment, digesting his words. She wanted to believe he was telling
the truth. The whole story was so stupid she couldn’t believe he was making it
up.

He
tugged her hand, drawing her closer. “Stop fighting me, Jasmine.”

“You’ve
got me at a disadvantage. I pull too hard, I’ll hurt you.”

Dar gave
her a heavy lidded look, and she recognized it immediately from their kiss before.
“You’re right. You could reopen my wound. I may bleed to death in this bed.
Come closer. Let me hold you lest I die from want.”

Jasmine
chuckled and rolled her eyes, allowing him to lead her into the bed beside him.
His cool skin warmed as she snuggled into the crook of his side. “You’re going
to hurt yourself.”

“It’s
worth dying if I can taste your lips one more time,” he said in a hoarse voice,
cupping her jaw and coaxing her lips apart for his kiss. His lips were
surprisingly soft and cool. She felt no tongue, only the soft nibble of his
lips on her bottom lip and the stroke of his thumb near the corner of her jaw.

“I
think…you’re being melodramatic,” she breathed as he kissed the corners of her
mouth and chin. She placed her hand on his chest, felt his heart pounding. She
knew she should push away, but curiosity was winning over good sense. On the
edge of the bed, she had nowhere to go but the floor or the cradle of his arm.
She snuggled against his uninjured side, felt the spasm of his oblique and the
steady rhythm of his heart. He turned with difficulty and a pained hiss, enough
that he could reach her hip with his long arm.

“If
infection sets in, I could be gone tomorrow. Would you deny a dying man his
last request?” he murmured. He sucked on the lobe of her ear, sending
delightful shivers coursing over her skin.

“And
what would that be?” she said quietly, struggling to keep control of her desire
and locking eyes with him as she turned her head to free it momentarily from
his kisses.

Dar
toyed with the waistband of her pants, roaming along until he found the buttons
that centered in a line leading to her crotch. He skillfully unbuttoned the
first and second. She sucked in a sharp breath as a sudden, unwanted ache
pulsed in her core.

“I feel
this urge to see my baby in your belly,” he said on a hoarse whisper, dipping
to nip her earlobe as he pushed his hand into the opening of her pants. She’d
gone commando—since this culture seemed to conveniently have no knowledge of
underwear, and thus there was no further barrier to him sinking his fingers
into her wet slit but her closed legs, and that only protected her vagina. Her
clit throbbed with her heartbeat, wantonly swelling under his direct touch. He
groaned when it plumped under his questing fingers.

“No
babies. You’re crazy.” She gasped, wanting to fight, knowing she’d stupidly put
herself in this position, and he damned sure knew she wasn’t going to risk
further injuring him by acting like a fool. Within moments he’d coaxed her
thighs apart by pushing his hand fully inside her pants. Cupping her mound, he
alternated rubbing her clit with his thumb while stroking the edges of her hole
with his middle finger.