Page 10 of Chased By the Alien Mercenary
For a long moment, our eyes seemed locked together, time drawing out between us with every thud of my heart. Then, abruptly, he was the one turning away, retreating to the other side of the cave. The light clattered to the floor but did not break,shadows bouncing along the walls before it settled. My feral companion was pacing back and forth, his long legs crossing from one side and back in just a few strides. If he’d had a tail, I was certain he’d have swished it around like an angry cat.
By the cave opening, a pile of things lay: a blanket tied shut with a big knot, shapes pressing against the fabric. So he’d gone to get supplies, blankets. Which meant… he did understand what I said, and he’d gone to do as I wanted. The warmth around my head had begun to fade, leaving me cold and feeling lonely, but at this revelation, new warmth settled in my chest. He reallydidwant to help me.
From the corner of my eye, I watched him pace and growl, snarling like a tiger in a cage. My fingers were clumsy and stiff around the knot in the blanket, but when I managed to free the fabric, I was faced with a whole pile of things: blankets, clothes, a first aid kit, and a whole lot of food. It was as if he’d raided a bedroom and the kitchen pantry. There was only one place he could have gone to get these things. My head turned automatically to the small sliver of stars visible through the cave opening. He’d gone back to the mansion.
Looking back at him, I scanned his body for any sign of injuries, or perhaps more blood splattered on his armor and face. If he’d gone back, had he fought and killed? Had he gotten hurt to get these things? He raised a fist to his head just as I fully turned to look, and with a snarl, he thumped it against his skull. “No!” I gasped. “Don’t do that!” I was on my feet before I could think through my actions, leaping for his arm and grabbing hold of it before he could strike himself again. “You don’t need to do that. Please—don’t hurt yourself!”
Our eyes clashed, another one of those moments suspended in time. My hands clasped around his thick bicep, his arm curled, fist raised mid-motion. That arm flexed, even as his eyes stayed locked on my face. I felt myself being lifted into the air. Either I let go, or I would find myself dangling. My fingers dug into his armor, holding on. Stubbornly—maybe stupidly—I repeated what I’d already said. “Please, don’t hurt yourself. You’re okay, we’re okay. I’m not so cold anymore, and you brought food and water. You did good.”
He bared his teeth, hissing in my face, but then his arm lowered, and my toes touched stone again. Good, because my arms ached from holding on, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could have clung there. I did not release him entirely, but with one hand, I gestured to the floor. “Thank you. Now, shall we eat and drink something? I don’t know about you, but it’s been a while for me. I’m pretty sure I’m a little dehydrated.” Very sure, actually, my head was doing that warm, clenched thing again.
I felt scorched along my bare legs when his gaze dropped from my face to follow the path of my hand. His eyes lingered, sliding back up my legs to stare at where the oversized shirt covered the apex of my thighs. Heat slipped from my head down my spine, for the first time making me aware that there was some kind of interest in me that went beyond being a nice feral alien and possibly headed into... well, what? Sex in exchange for protection? I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, he was just staring at my thighs as if they held the answers to the universe. Maybe they looked weird to him. It was a stretch to jump to this meaning he was interested in sex, with me.
When I slipped my hand from his arm and turned to face the supplies, my skin prickled with awareness. My mind filled withthe recollection of being in his arms, cradled against his chest. Now, the heat was in my belly, but I was going to keep blaming that on the lack of water and food. I needed help—seriously—if I thought the feral alien was hot.
Kneeling beside the supplies, I gathered my thin blanket back around me, hoping to recapture body heat and modesty. He was still standing exactly where I’d left him, his head brushing the ceiling, his eyes locked onto me. Damn it, no, it was time to admit it, at least to myself. The guy was smoking hot. Even if his face was sorta creepy, it was also mysterious, with a to-die-for jawline. And his body; it was lean and muscled, a fucking work of art. I was definitely attracted to him, and the way he was looking after me, in his own way, was definitely what was drawing me to him.
Forcing myself to look away, I picked through the supplies until I held a chunk of bread and a bottle of water. I sipped slowly, swishing the water through my mouth before swallowing. I knew not to rush this, or I’d make myself sick, and with a limited supply, I could not afford to waste any of it. When I raised the bread to take a bite out of it, my silent companion abruptly shook off his paralysis and moved. His hand closed around my wrist, dark red skin contrasting starkly against the paleness of mine.
I froze, uncertain what was happening. Tilting my chin, I looked up at him, crouched over me. He was staring at his hand around my wrist, and then his thumb feathered over my pulse. That light touch felt so good—so fast I could have imagined it. Him, touching me, the rough heat of his palm against my skin.
He snatched the bread from my fingers with a growl, red eyes flashing in warning. Then he was suddenly on his knees next to me, and still he towered over me with his seven-foot-tall frame. I’d become desensitized to his growls, I realized; this one didn’t scare me one bit. Maybe it was because his hand was still gentle around my wrist, his thumb against my thudding pulse.
“Okay, not the bread?” I said. “Then what? I need to eat something—it’s been a day since I had anything.” There was a huff that sounded angry, but not in the same way his growls did. His stare was intense as he let go of me and began arranging and rummaging through the supplies. Once, his hand nudged the water bottle in my other hand, urging it back to my mouth, so dutifully, I drank more.
He procured another blanket and slung it around my shoulders, and this time I definitely thought the soft noise he made in the back of his throat was one of satisfaction. “Thank you,” I said, and then laughed when he offered me a bite of the bread after all, torn from the hunk and brought to my lips by his fingers. So he was upping his “taking care of me” moves, was he? I wasn’t sure where this was going to take us, but I leaned in and took the bread from his fingers with my lips. Couldn’t say I minded, this was miles better than what I’d been through the past week.
Unfortunately, the stone I was on now wasn’t one that heated to my presence, and my knees were starting to ache from the hard surface. If not for that tiny complaint, this would have almost been romantic. A picnic with mood lighting and a very solicitous partner. He kept giving me pieces of bread, interspersed with chunks of dried and lightly spiced meat or dried fruit. Not once did he take any food for himself, and I eyed his sharp teeth a fewtimes, wondering if he ate raw meat fresh from a kill rather than this civilized stuff he’d stolen for me.
Between bites, his eyes dropped to the hateful collar still snugly wrapped around my throat. After a week of wearing the thing, I had almost forgotten it was there, but I hadn’t forgotten the pain it had inflicted. The way my wordless companion growled at the sight of it told me he knew what it could do, just like I did.
I’d been warned not to touch it by Keya on that first day; it would shock me if I tried to tamper with it. So when my intimidating companion pulled a tiny but sharp tool from his belt, something that looked remarkably like a miniature screwdriver. I flinched back. But he wouldn’t let me retreat; he was too fast for that. Catching me by the back of the neck, he forced me to expose my throat, and the collar.
I froze, bracing myself for the worst pain imaginable. But it didn’t come. With a few quick, deft twists of that tool, the collar came loose from my neck.
My alien companion snatched it up and, in one swift motion, tossed it out through the narrow cave opening. Just like that, I was free. He resumed feeding me choice bits of the food he’d stolen. Okay. I could definitely live with that development. I never wanted to see that collar again; it was part of the ordeal I would pretend had never happened. Still, my fingers rubbed the newly exposed skin for several minutes.
“Will you at least tell me your name?” I asked around a mouthful of sweet and sour berries. He didn’t answer, but he sat back on his haunches and watched me with his head cocked. I couldn’t read his expression well, but I thought that perhaps he was alittle frustrated. When he reached for more bread, I raised a hand and shook my head. “No, thank you, I’m full now. Why don’t you eat?” I caught his wrist and pressed it up toward his face to make it clear I wanted him to eat—not necessarily the bread he was holding, if he couldn’t have that, but something. His mouth tilted—an almost-smile—and then he chomped onto the bread with those sharp teeth and started chewing. Okay, whew. Good. He could eat more than just meat.
Shifting uncomfortably on my knees, I tried to find a better position and gave up. Rock was rock; it just didn’t make for good seating, and this one was cold to boot. At least the cave felt noticeably warmer with my protector inside it. “Fine, no talking. Let me see what you brought.” If I couldn’t be comfortable, I might as well make myself useful. I was exhausted but not ready to sleep on a rock floor just yet.
If he wasn’t going to speak and was eating surprisingly neatly and quietly, I might as well fill the silence. I spoke the name of each object I picked up, remarking on its use as I shifted it from the current pile and sorted it in order of usefulness. “Blankets, good, I’ll need those to stay warm. More clothes would be nice, shoes especially.” I counted ration bars and water bottles, pleased with the amount. “That should last us a few days.” I glanced over to see him polishing off the last of the bread he’d brought and was almost certain there was a slightly guilty look on his face now.
“The landscape outside is pretty, but it also looks dangerous. I wish I had my camera. The dawn will make it all look magical, I’m sure. Do you know where this is, or how to get somewhere safe?” I glanced at my companion, but he didn’t answer. He’d fixated on my toes, peeking out from beneath the blanket. Iwriggled them, and he hissed as if startled. My laugh sounded oddly loud and bright. In response, he narrowed his eyes at me, then abruptly reached beneath the blanket and curled his fingers around my ankle. Ouch, his hand was so warm against my cold skin that it stung. He seemed just as surprised, growling as he dropped my foot and leaped to his feet.
He stormed from the cave as if his tail were on fire, and I huffed in frustration, staring after him into the dark with stinging eyes. Again? What was he doing now? And did he have to act like my foot had personally offended him? I really hated that I had no way to talk to him. Was he mute? Was that it? Maybe he could write to me…
Cold, but no longer thirsty or hungry, I evaluated my options. I was sort of stuck in this cave unless I found a way to traverse the sharp bits outside. That either meant being carried by my non-talkative friend or finding some shoes. Nothing in the pile of haphazard supplies would help me with that. Then my eyes landed on a piece of silver peeking out from beneath the pile of ration bars. How had I missed that? It was a communication device.
My fingers felt clumsy against the small screen, but it lit up, indicating a full battery—and that was it. Locked. Blast. Gazing around the cave a little helplessly, I sighed. I guessed I was going to wait and rest. At least I had more blankets, and I could curl up on the heating rock again to stay warm. I missed my alien; I wished I knew where he’d gone this time. To get shoes? Had my prattling about things we needed to survive caused him to run off? Please, I thought a little forlornly, I didn’t even need shoes that badly. I just wanted him to come back.
Chapter 10
Lyra
I must have dozed a little on my warm rock, because when I blinked, the cave seemed darker. The light could be going out, and I didn’t know what to do about that. Turn it off to preserve the battery? Groggily, I cast about to locate the little lamp, but it had rolled behind the pile of bottles and was oddly distorted through the transparent surfaces.
Then my protector suddenly slipped back into the cave, and the light abruptly flared brighter. Motion activated, then. He was carrying a handful of things this time, including a coat he shook out—stained with blood on the collar—and a pair of too-large boots. Yup, he’d heard what I was missing and gone to fetch it. What a goof and a sweetheart. He was trying so very hard to please me. How had I ended up with a guy like that? Sheer luck. Maybe I wasn’t all out after all.
