Alien Lord's Captive Read online

  “You do, and they’ll make themselves vomit,” Cat broke in.

  Tarrick looked up, meeting her eyes. “Oh?”

  “It’s called a hunger strike.” She moved away from the table, her movements graceful. Her own clothing was gone when she woke this morning, replaced instead with a thin dress that looked more like a silk nightie. Far from feeling half-naked though, the inner layer of fabric molded to her figure, giving nothing away as the outer layers swirled around her, bunching around her ankles. The effect made her feel like a fairytale princess and she had to resist the urge to twirl just to swish the skirts.

  Small pleasures, she reminded herself, don’t fall prey to the bigger concerns. Deal with them, don’t panic.

  “Humans aren’t stupid, and we have a pathological allergy to being enslaved. We’d rather starve to death than be slaves. Force feed them and they’ll expel whatever you make them eat.”

  The warriors exchanged startled looks around the table, but it was the big guy who spoke, his lips curled back to display his disgust. “They’d rather die than accept the shelter we offer. How twisted and barbaric is that?”

  “It’s called free will and choice.” She shrugged again. “And you’re a fine lot to talk about barbarism. Not a benevolent superior race, are you? Rather than helping a less able race to defend itself. Rather than guide and aid…you storm in and enslave. Humans, for all our primitive and barbaric ways, outlawed slavery centuries ago.”

  The warrior snorted and she rounded on him, anger surging through her. “What if it were the other way around and you were the slave. Would you find it so acceptable then?”

  Anger flashed in his eyes and he stood to his full height, glaring down at her. “You go too far, human!”

  “Go on then, hit me.” Her lips curled back into a snarl, but she refused to back down even though he was larger. Just one punch and that would be it. She didn’t care though. Let him try, she’d go down fighting. Maybe quickly but it would be fighting. “Do whatever you want. I’m a slave, remember? No choice, no opinion. Nothing other than a soft body to fuck. Not like we’ve got brains to use, now is it?”

  “Karryl…” Tarrick’s voice snapped out in warning, and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Karryl flopped into his seat, his expression unreadable, and Tarrick transferred his attention to Cat. Great, she’d pissed off the big-bad.

  “Go to my quarters, wait for me there.”

  “Yes, my lord.” She mock-saluted him, spun on her heel with a satisfying swish of her skirts and swept out of the door. A sliding door meant she couldn’t slam it, so she settled for strutting away with her head held high. Two bots peeled off to escort her, with metallic clicks against the deck plating, as she did her best to storm down the corridor in soft sandals.

  Asshole aliens, the lot of them.

  Laarn blew out a breath after the human woman left the room and broke the silence.

  “Anyone else think they’re a lot more like us than we bargained for?”

  “Seems that way, yes.” Tarrick sighed and shook his head. It had been less than a day since they’d taken the base and already he was realizing dealing with humans was fraught with headache. His.

  “Okay, Karryl, try and get the women in the cells calm. And leave them in there for now. Until Fenriis arrives with his war group. I don’t want the men distracted.”

  “Huh, just you then?” Laarn, as always, got the jibe in at light speed. “And just how did your night with the little human go? I see she’s dressed as befits the mate of a war commander. She accepted your claim, I take it?”

  Tarrick clenched his fists, resisting the urge to strangle his brother. He had a point though. They’d all been without women for far too long. To have them just within reach but not be able to touch them would be utter torture.

  “Explain that we have to quarantine them for the moment, to ensure their health and safety.” Just the mention of a threat to the women’s health would have his men toeing the line, no matter how eager they were to claim one for themselves. “Laarn, run full level tests on them to make sure they are all fit and well. That should placate the warriors.”

  “Of course.” His twin’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of being able to gather more data on the new species. Tarrick shook his head. Sometimes he didn’t think Laarn was male in the traditional sense of the word.

  “The rest of you, back to your stations. I want full level readiness drills run in case the humans arrive before Fenriis. Dismissed.”

  The warriors filed out, but Tarrick remained in place. Dropping his head back, he closed his eyes for a second in frustration.

  They were ready to move onto the next target, the next base in the chain. All the information they’d gathered showed it was larger than the base the humans had designated Sentinel Five. Larger meant more women. More spoils. But they couldn’t move yet, not without ships to secure the sector.

  But he couldn’t hope to hold the entire area with just one war group. It meant bringing in another war commander, his cousin Fenriis, and sharing any spoils the sector might yield, but that was preferable to losing the lot to another clan. It had happened before, and it would happen again. But not this time. Not on his watch.

  But first, he had another problem.

  Pushing off from the table, he left the briefing room and headed toward his quarters. The two bots he’d assigned to Cat stood in the corridor. He nodded to them as he passed, his thoughts filled with the woman within.

  His little human. His little Cat.

  As soon as he entered the room, her scent surrounded him. Exotic, erotic, and familiar, all at the same time. She stood in the main room, by the window again. He drank in the sight of her, all sensual curves and softness. Her uniform was gone, replaced by the traditional robes of a Latharian woman.

  Gray silk clung to her curves, jeweled straps twinkling on delicate shoulders. The garment dipped low at the back to show the sensual curve of her spine. Jeweled clips held up her hair away from her neck, and bangles glittered on her narrow wrists. Not finery from the K’Vass family vault, just generic ornamentation. It was all he had. He couldn’t wait to take her home though, and dress her in the starlight sapphires that had marked his family for centuries.

  Unbidden, the image of his mother’s bonding necklace flashed through his mind. It was in the family vault, nestled on midnight silk. The most ornate piece of jewelry a latharian woman owned, bonding necklaces were intricate and detailed. His mother’s had been modeled after Herris Blossom’s, wrought in tri-pladium and set with sapphires. When she wore it, the jeweled flowers looked almost alive against her skin. They would look even more alive against the almost translucent, non-latharian ivory of Cat’s skin.

  He knew she was aware of his presence from the slight intake of her breath and the stiffness that invaded her limbs. She didn’t look at him. Every line of her slender figure radiated tension.

  “What was that about?” Crossing the room, he gripped her arm and turned her around to face him. She ignored the pull and yanked her arm free, leaving red marks from his fingers.

  “What was what about?” Turning with all the grandeur of an Empress, she gave him an innocent, yet haughty expression. “Back there? Just the truth. Sorry if it hurts.”

  “You’re sad.” The realization startled him. Reaching out, he tugged a strand of her hair loose and wound it around his finger. He loved her hair. The vibrant color and the feel of it against his skin was like silk. A sensual delight he hadn’t expected. “Why are you sad?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You can’t be that dense, surely?”

  She tried to pull the lock of hair loose, but he held on. A short tussle ensued, one that ended when he slid his free hand around the nape of her neck and tilted her head. The delicate bones of her neck felt so fragile in his large, warriors hand. He gentled his grip and leaned in to kiss her, heat simmering in his veins, but she bared her teeth in warning.

  “I thought we were past all this resis
tance.”

  “We are?” She blinked at him, her lips pursed into a stubborn little pout. He wanted to lean down and kiss it away. “No, that would have been the fact you drugged me. It’s worn off. Otherwise, I’d have been climbing those warriors in your office like a tree.”

  He sighed, and closed his eyes for a second. Damn stubborn humans.

  “Ker’ann doesn’t work like that, little Moore Cat. It eases…the differences between our physical sizes, but it can’t create something that’s not there.” He opened his eyes again. “And this…between us? It is there. Any idiot can see you find me attractive.”

  “Asshole. I think I like the healer more. He kinda looks like you...”

  Anger flared without warning. His hand tightened in her hair. She squeaked, her face paling and he eased his grip again.

  “Never look at Laarn again.” Jealousy dictated his responses. The thought of her in another man’s arms triggered a rage so deep it scared him. “The only man you should look at is me.”

  “Whoa, whoa…calm down, big boy.” She stroked her hands over his forearms. Her touch was like cool water after the heat of the Arakaas deserts he’d visited as a boy. “I was joking.”

  “Don’t.”

  The order was short and sharp before he pulled her into his embrace. His mouth had barely covered hers before she tore away.

  “No!”

  Pulling back, he looked down at her. “No? Why no? We are compatible…you accepted my claim over you.”

  “Not like I had much choice, did I?” Her voice was sharp and her eyes glittered with angry tears. Why did the sight of them make his chest ache?

  “You took mine away to give them theirs. Not that they have much of a choice. Fuck a warrior or become a whore. Did it ever occur to you that humanity has been looking for other advanced races? That human women might find you guys attractive and come voluntarily?”

  He stilled, his expression setting into unreadable lines. She’d called him out. He hadn’t considered that.

  Shoving at his shoulder, she demanded. “You didn’t, did you? You just barged right in with bigger guns and took what you wanted.”

  He shrugged. “It’s always been the Lathar way.”

  “Well, the Lathar are idiots,” she huffed. “You’re an idiot.”

  He ventured a small smile. “It’s been said before. Laarn still maintains I was dropped on my head at birth.”

  “Huh. Makes sense.”

  Sensing a thawing in her attitude, he leaned down to brush his lips over hers. She didn’t move or respond. He didn’t like her lack of response. Humans were far more complicated than he’d first thought. Last night had been filled with passion and a responsiveness he’d never imagined before and he wanted more. She hadn’t pushed him away though, that was something. Under Latharian law, he was more than within his rights to take what he wanted, but he found he didn’t want that. He wanted her to open up to him, to give herself. To him.

  She lifted her chin. As a signal, it was tiny, but he had nothing else to go on, so grasped it like a lifeline.

  He didn’t push, instead seducing her with soft touches and kisses. His lips learned the shape of hers, teasing at the corners, all his senses alert for any reaction from her. She relaxed, a slight weight against him and he eased her closer. She fit into his arms so perfectly that it had to be by design. The ancestors had to have designed her just for him. There was no other explanation.

  Tilting her head back farther, he flicked the tip of his tongue against her full lower lip, then teased at it with a slight nip. She gasped, her lips parting. Softly, softly, he warned himself, not rushing in as he would have before. When she didn’t close them all the way, he kissed her again, stroking his tongue against the parted seam in a request for access.

  Her response was a small moan and then she kissed him back. Triumph and relief hit hard and fast. A rumble of need and pleasure in the back of his throat, he deepened the kiss. Tasting her again was as good as his memory, wiping out all other thought. All that mattered was the two of them, her touch, as the rest of the universe whirled around them with a rapid beeping sound.

  She pulled away, frowning. “What is that noise? It sounds like an alarm.”

  He blinked, shook his head and focused.

  “Fuck. It’s the red alert.”

  6

  Cat had to trot to keep up with Tarrick as he headed to the bridge. The low-level lighting in the corridor flashed red in rhythmic pulses. Warriors scattered as Tarrick stormed through, parting like the seas before him. She followed in his wake, slipping onto the bridge beside him. Her breath caught in her throat when all the combat bots turned at their entrance, arms spread and talons extended as they focused on her and Tarrick.

  Oh shit… Fear crawled down her spine at the memory of their sharp claws. They wouldn’t make mincemeat of their own commander…would they? He didn’t seem worried. Instead, he paused for half a second before a gleam washed over the surface of the octagonal pendant he wore. Interesting, it seemed their necklaces were less jewelry and more identification. Like a dog tag. She filed that nugget of information away and stayed close as he strode to the center of the bridge.

  The central view screen in front of them flickered to life and she sucked in a hard breath. There were more ships now, but these weren’t the same design as Tarrick’s ships. Black metal glimmered in the light of this system's sun, and weaponry, or what she assumed were weapon arrays, bristled on all surfaces.

  “Sheilds to full. Are those T’Laat clan ships?” Tarrick’s voice was sharp and cut through the noise on the bridge. “Who heads T’Laat now?”

  Cat tucked herself in by an empty console just behind Tarrick and kept quiet. So far, her presence had been accepted but she didn’t want to call attention to herself and be taken back to Tarrick’s quarters. The more she saw, the more information she could gather. Never knew what could come in handy.

  Jassyn looked up from a console on the opposite side of the bridge. From what she could work out, he appeared to be the latharian equivalent of the tactical officer; one trained in strategy and tactics.

  “Varish T’Laat.”

  Silence fell over the bridge at the name. It was a telling silence. Whoever this Varish was, no one liked him much.

  “Draanth!” Tarrick swore, his tone dropping to a growl. “That changes things.”

  “Incoming call from the T’Laat flagship, the Jeru’tias. Looks like they want to talk,” another warrior announced, his hands flying over the console in front of him.

  Cat eyed hers with interest. She had always been good with computers. Perhaps she could switch hers on and get a peek at their system. Waving her hand over it did nothing, neither did touching it. The surface only lit up when she put her hand flat on it. Jumping, she yanked her hand back, but the imprint remained in bright blue. Words scrolled across the screen.

  Unknown operator, please present identification…

  It flickered once, then her handprint disappeared to be replaced by an octagonal outline. She blinked. Okay, so the pendants could access the computer systems. Today’s little outing was proving more fruitful by the minute.

  “Stall the transmission. Use interference from the human systems.” Tarrick was still talking, rattling off orders in quickfire sentences. “Someone put out a call to Fenriis. See how far away his war group is. We will need backup here. I don’t trust Varish.”

  “Accessing the human comms relays.” A warrior closer to the view screen kept up a running commentary. “Boosting to full power.”

  “Got it. No, wait…” Jassyn flicked his hair back over his shoulders and frowned at his screen. “Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s this bloody repeater pattern again. Can you shut it down, Talat?”

  “Yeah, cleaning now. There you go…”

  Tarrick prowled the central part of the bridge as his warriors worked, his gaze on the view screen. It was as though she wasn’t even there, which suited her fine. She could study him without him being awa
re.

  That he knew what he was doing was obvious. An aura of command surrounded him; unmistakable and sexy. For a moment her lips tingled, reminded of the gentle and oh-so-seductive kiss he’d treated her to before they were interrupted. A kiss she shouldn’t have given into. Where had the asshole alien gone? She could handle him, compartmentalize to complete her mission, but when he acted all nice… fuck. She’d be screwed.

  No falling for the alien, she told herself. He’s an asshole and you’re his slave. Remember that.

  “Bring group configuration to hanrat-five-nine,” Tarrick ordered, hands clasped behind his back in the classic at-ease position. Huh, seemed certain things crossed not only cultures but galaxies and species too. “Are their weapon arrays active?”

  His words brought her attention to the nasty looking canons on the other ships. She assumed they were canons anyway. The basic design didn’t seem to differ much from human models. Still a barrel to fire whatever nastiness at the enemy. From what she’d seen, the Lathar used energy-based weapons.

  “Powering up. They outgun us.”

  Shit, this was serious. Cat’s lips moved as she counted the canons facing them. If Tarrick’s ships were of a similar configuration, then yeah, they were outnumbered. And if this lot were worse than Tarrick’s group…fuck. Better the devil you knew.

  “Use the base’s weaponry,” she lifted her voice so it carried. Tarrick pivoted to spear her with a hard gaze.

  “What?”

  She met his look. “Give me access to the base’s mainframe. With the weapon arrays, you’ll have a better chance against…those.” She waved her hand toward the opposing war group.

  “She’s right,” Jassyn commented, not looking at her, his hands busy on his console. “They’re crude but have a decent yield. Our shields took a hammering from them yesterday. Firing systems are…well, unique. We can’t figure out how to work them at the moment. Been trying to crack them since yesterday, so yes, if she gives us access, we have the advantage.”