Alien Mine (9 page)

The other aliens were watching her with black, unblinking stares. Natalie shivered, a blush burning in her cheeks, and lowered her head. Maybe to them she appeared as strange as they did to her.

Zacar grunted something at his men and they hurried to comply, busying themselves with something from the huge chests they'd brought into her cave. She would've liked to find out what they were up to, but was too scared to look away from Zacar and the knife he still held in his hand. She only heard the thumps of something heavy being set on the floor behind her.

She finished chewing then insisted, "I can eat by myself."

He stilled and stared down at her for a moment. Then picked up another piece of bread and pointedly held it against her lips.

"I feed you always." His soft voice seemed to cocoon them into a private world of their own, yet his words indicated he expected her to have a depressingly long association with them.

She opened her mouth and allowed him to place another piece of bread on her tongue. How long did they plan to stay in her cave? And when they left, what would happen to her?

Please let them leave soon.

She swallowed. "What are you going to do with me?" At least he hadn't tied her up as she did to him. Not yet anyway. Maybe he'd let her go. Eventually.

Ignoring her question, he bumped another piece of bread against her lips. Too scared to refuse, she opened her mouth and allowed him to place it on her tongue. His fingers briefly touched her lips and she tasted salt and some unknown exotic spice.

Something fluttered low down in her stomach. Nerves, it was nerves. It had to be nerves.

"Zyrgin warriors are strong. Strongest in many galaxies."

"Uh, okay." Why was he telling her that? If he meant to intimidate her, he'd already succeeded.

He continued to feed her small bits of bread buttered just right. A couple times, she almost choked, swallowing pieces whole in her haste to finish the bread and get away from him. The seriousness with which he concentrated on his task would've been endearing in a human male, but it scared her when an alien holding a wickedly sharp knife did it. He fed her another piece then wiped her mouth with careful strokes of the cloth he found on the table.

"Zyrgin warriors protect their women," he said pointedly, again tapping a piece of bread against her lips.

She couldn't help glaring at him. When had she become
his
woman? She swallowed the piece of bread whole. "Is that why you killed those raiders, because your people protect women?"

"Yes. Woumbers like that not live." After days of him barely grunting, it disconcerted her to hear him talk in such complete sentences.

"That's not true, is it? You said you kill weak women." That piece of information still haunted her. What else was he capable off?

"You really strong."

"So if I'm weak, then you'd kill me?" Something pushed her, forcing her to press him for an answer she knew she wouldn't like.

He didn't respond, and that unnerved her more than any words he might have spoken.

He went to the bucket of water and scooped some into the glass she used for drinking. Swallowing half the water from the glass, he then brought it over and held the glass to her lips. "Drink."

She pressed her lips together, but quickly changed her mind about being stubborn. She'd rather not find out what he'd do if she refused an order. She didn't relish the idea of sharing his alien germs but figured it was probably safer than getting her head chopped off.

Some of the warriors watched her again. He growled a savage command at them and they grunted back before looking away. The scarred one stared for a second longer before he, too, returned to stacking crates against the wall.

Water leaked from the corners of her mouth in her haste to swallow and put some distance between her and Zacar again. He took the empty glass, put it on the table, and wiped her mouth with warm leathery fingers that stroked over her lips with exquisite care, following every drop of water escaping down her chin.

Her body got its signals mixed up again. Instead of freezing, or her skin crawling, she came alive everywhere those warm fingers caressed with slow sensual movements over her lips, and they parted without her permission, pouting slightly to get closer to his fingers.

She looked at his coppery neck with its thick veins, not quite brave enough to stare at his face.

Was his skin also sensitive to touch, like a human's? His leathery fingers were like rough velvet over warm steel. What did her skin feel like to him?

She tensed when he murmured something in his native tongue as his hand moved to the side of her face. He traced her ear with a finger, that small caress more intimate than any touch from her former fiancé.

The thought of Andre shocked her out of the spell he'd woven over her with his warm fingers and she drew back from him, disgusted with her reaction to his touch. "Please stop." The words emerged shakily, with what she wanted to believe was fear, not arousal. What was wrong with her? A few days ago, she'd seen him cut off people's heads with the grace of a dancer. The last thing she should be feeling was aroused.

He grunted at her. Ignoring her plea, his forefinger stroked softly, ever so softly down the side of her face to caress her neck. She quivered so much it was a wonder she didn't fall off the chair. Her breath choppy, she had to concentrate not to squirm in her chair. If only she could understand what he was thinking, but with practically zero facial expressions, it was impossible. Even the way he moved his body was fluid, graceful, and very decisive. Did his grunting mean he approved, or did he always grunt like that when he groped a woman?

A noise behind her had her going rigid and she pulled away from his caressing fingers. He growled at her.

Desperate to divert his attention, she pointed in the direction of the other aliens she still could hear in the cave. "What are they doing?"

The distraction worked. With him no longer touching her, she could focus on what the other aliens were doing. When she turned her head to glance behind her, they were busy setting up camp--in
her
cave. She wanted to protest but didn't dare.

When they left the cave again, she glared at their backs. They were probably going to get more stuff to clutter up her cave. Just how long did they plan on staying? It wasn't like they needed shelter from the snow outside. Zacar had already proved them impervious to the cold.

Zacar gave a roar. Startled, she jerked her gaze back to him. He glared at her, his posture threatening, and she winced.

"My woman not look at other warriors." He'd gone back to caveman speak.

She clutched her heart. "You scared ten years off my life." She was tired of cowering. The emotional upheaval, together with the cold weather, wasn't doing her asthma any good either. She could already feel her chest tightening.

Zacar growled as two warriors returned, stacking more crates, then he stormed out of the cave. The two warriors stopped and stared at her, unblinking, not moving a single muscle.

Trembling, she brought her hands up to her face, hiding it as she fought the threatening tears. What had she gotten herself into? And why had she sat quietly, like some ninny, instead of fighting him?

She glanced around. If only those two weren't watching her so closely. If she was going to do something stupid, like walk over a mountain, knee deep in snow unprepared, now was the moment.

Rising on shaky legs, she edged closer to the hidden entrance at the back of the cave, willing to take her chances with the snow and start running. Although they continued to watch her, neither of the aliens tried to stop her. Trying to look casual, she walked toward the back cave.

She had almost made it to the entrance when Zacar rushed back with amazing speed, one of the aliens right behind him. She froze.

"Zzziggllr." Zacar pointed to the alien.

Why was he introducing the other alien again?

Then a ghastly thought occurred to her. Did the other alien want to feed her and feel her up, too?

She took a step backward. No way could she eat any more. And if he touched her, she'd scream the cave roof down and bite off anything that came near her mouth.

Why was she so repulsed by the thought of another alien touching her but not with Zacar?

"Viglar," Zacar said, giving the alien's name a more understandable pronunciation. He seemed to search for the right word before he continued, "He is what you name a doctor."

Natalie frowned at him and glanced at the other alien. "Okay." It was hard not to fidget under those unblinking stares. "Uh, why are you telling me this?" Did he realize she had asthma?

Without answering her, he grated something at the other alien. Natalie nearly jumped out of her skin when the doctor alien took a device from his pants pocket and pointed it at her. The object appeared small and fragile in his big hands. No lights or sound indicated the gadget was working but still, he stared at it and grunted, while Zacar made threatening noises at her.

"Why are you threatening me? What'd I do?" She hated the whiny tone of her voice, but she challenged anyone to go through what she'd gone through the last five days without whining. She stiffened. Would the doctor learn about her asthma from his scanner thingy, if he didn't know about it already? But more importantly, would they consider asthma a weakness they'd kill her for? Could his scanner tell him asthma was hereditary in her family.

"Not ten years lost," Zacar insisted, and she nodded lamely.

She had no idea what he was talking about and, with both of them looming over her, it seemed safer to agree with whatever he said.

She hoped whatever the scanner told him would satisfy him, but he growled something and the two aliens stopped stacking crates and walked outside.

Then Zacar had her coat off, her sweater and shirt pushed up before she could move. He growled, his eyes flashing red lightning at the purple and yellow bruises and bite marks the raiders had left on her body, a slowly fading reminder of the horrible attack the day the raiders had caught her.

Her face flaming, she tried to pull down her shirt and sweater.

The doctor growled as well. Plucking a small metal tube from his pocket, he rubbed something on the biggest bruise, located on the tender skin between her neck and shoulder, and she flinched. Zacar turned on him with a savage movement and the doctor quickly offered the tube to Zacar before moving away.

Zacar picked her up and walked to her tent where he laid her down on the bed. He had her sweater, shirt, and pants off her before she could even think to protest. Kneeling before her, he gently rubbed the horrific smelling, slimy green paste onto her bruises.

Trying to conceal the cups of her bra with her hands, Natalie cringed away from the smell.

"Still," he growled without looking up from his task.

If only she was brave enough to tell him she wasn't his dog.