Vanquished (The Hidden Planet Book 2) Page 2

  So that’s the way this is going to go, eh?

  “Listen here, girl,” I growl through gritted teeth. I stand up tall, making sure I’m showing off my full height. I haven’t been around many humans. I certainly haven’t been around one who wasn’t afraid of me. This girl? She’s not afraid of me. It’s quite strange, really. “Those berries are the most poisonous food on the entire planet. If you eat one, you’ll be dead in minutes. Do you understand?”

  She has no idea how close she just came to death. She has no idea that I just saved her damn life. How would she? This is the type of woman who comes from privilege, from wealth. She’s probably lived a sheltered life where the biggest problem she’s ever had to deal with was which color dress to wear.

  “Fuck you,” she spits out. She turns around and starts marching off along the creek. She’s got flimsy shoes on and her shoulders will be covered with bug bites before the sun sets in a shirt like that, but somehow, all I can focus on is the curve of her ass in those tight pants.

  “Shit,” I mumble under my breath as I watch her walk away. She’s angry and upset, but she still walks with a sway. She still walks with the confidence of a woman who is used to getting what she wants. She still walks like she wants a damn spanking, and fuck if I’m not the one who wants to give it to her.

  I should let her go.

  I should let this human wander off in the woods and get eaten. I should let her discover that the jungles of Sapphira are not a tourist destination. I should let her find out just how hard surviving really is.

  There’s just one problem: I don’t want to.

  I don’t want to let her go.

  I don’t want her to get hurt.

  I don’t want her to discover that the world is a dark and dangerous place.

  I don’t want any of that.

  This woman, this human, is delicate. She’s soft and sweet and adorable. There’s something about her that calls to me, that makes me curious. What the hell is she doing in the middle of the jungle without so much as a canteen? What is she doing without supplies, without proper shoes?

  Where did she come from?

  And why is she here?

  I start walking after her, but don’t say anything. After a few minutes, she seems to notice I’m trailing her. She turns around and glares at me. Then she starts walking faster, but only slightly.

  I keep up easily.

  My legs are longer than hers, and stronger. I’ve been on Sapphira for years and if I had to guess, I’d say she’s from Mars or another modernized planet that doesn’t have jungles or wilderness like this. I’d guess she’s from a place where she stays mostly indoors, where she doesn’t have to work hard.

  I’d say she’s from a place that doesn’t even know about Sapphira, if I had to guess.

  I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. Years of hunting has made me observant. It’s made me cautious. It’s made me aware. If you’re going to hunt something, if you’re going to catch something, you have to stay ahead of the game. You have to be ready for anything and you have to be able to predict the movements of your prey.

  You have to be prepared.

  But when the woman suddenly stops, turns, and starts running toward me with a loud scream, it’s safe to say I am not prepared. I don’t move as she barrels into me and starts pummeling me with her tiny fists. It doesn’t hurt and I’m more confused than injured.

  “Why are you following me?” She screams. She punches my chest. Punch. Punch. Punch. “Go away and leave me alone! I don’t want you here! Go away!”

  She yells and starts to cry, but soon her tears become too much for her and she stops hitting me and just keeps crying.

  “Why is this happening?” She says, sounding defeated. Then she sits down at my feet and wraps her arms around herself and just cries.

  And cries.

  And cries.

  And I don’t know what to do with her. I don’t know how to handle this sort of situation. This is unlike anything I’ve ever dealt with before. Animals are easy, predictable. Each type of animal has its own behavioral patterns that rarely vary or change. Whether I’m hunting in the northern or southern parts of the jungle, I can figure out how the animals will behave depending on the weather, the noise levels, the wind. I can predict these things and I can catch my prey accordingly.

  This woman, though?

  She’s nothing like what I’m used to hunting.

  And hearing her cry makes me feel a little sad.

  It shouldn’t. I don’t know her. She’s not Hayden or Quinn or Fiona. Hell, she’s not Gaz. I don’t have any emotional attachment to her, so it doesn’t make sense that I would feel anything for her.

  Quinn is the gentle one, the compassionate one. My brother has a heart bigger than I can possibly imagine or understand, but I’m not that way. I’ve never been that way. No, I’m cold and calculating. I’m a hunter through-and-through. I’m cautious and callous because I have to be in order to catch my prey.

  It’s the way I was built.

  But seeing this little human is making me feel things I’m not prepared to feel. I don’t like the way she looks when she’s sad. I don’t like that I’ve frightened her. I don’t like that I’ve made her feel scared.

  So I do something I shouldn’t do, something I wouldn’t imagine doing in a thousand years. Instead of leaving, instead of abandoning her, I sit down in front of her, pull her easily into my lap, and wrap my arms around her.

  I don’t speak and she doesn’t resist. She just keeps crying and I’m not sure what to do. The only female I’ve ever held like this is Hayden. My little sister has been to hell and back again in her young life, and there was a period when all she did was cry. After her kidnapping, I used to hold her while she sobbed. I would rub her back and I would sing to her.

  Maybe that will work on this little human.

  I pull her closer to myself.

  I’m sweaty and covered in dirt and grime and jungle, but she’s dirty, too, and she doesn’t seem to mind the fact that I’m not pristine. Maybe she’s not as big of a snob as I thought.

  I begin to rub her back and she tenses slightly, as if she’s surprised at the touch. Her sobs slow a little bit, and I feel relieved. Good. This is working. I rub her back with my hand and try to remember the words to the song Hayden loves so much. My sister is very particular about her music and when she was lost and hurting, she was even more insistent on keeping things a certain way.

  I had to sing the same damn song every time I held her.

  Now I sing to the human.

  “When you were lost,” I begin. She instantly stops shaking and her sobs downgrade to sniffles. “You were never alone. You were never on your own. You were never truly lost, you know, because you were always in my heart.” The words come back to me and the melody carries in the air.

  The jungle seems to grow smaller, more quiet, as I sing to the girl in my arms. After a moment, she rests her head against my chest, but I keep singing, keep rubbing her back, keeping touching her while I finish the song.

  There’s something different about this girl, there’s something special that makes me want to know more about her. Why is she here? Why is she in such a rush? More importantly, where is she going?

  Or what is she running from?

  I realize suddenly that maybe I had her pegged wrong. Maybe she’s not here to ruin my hunting expedition or to explore the woods. Maybe she’s here because she doesn’t have a choice. Maybe she’s here because she’s afraid. Maybe she’s here because someone is after her.

  Maybe that’s why she doesn’t have a bag.

  Maybe she’s on the run, maybe she’s scared, and maybe she’s being hunted by something worse than me.

  I pull her closer and I keep singing.

  Chapter 4

  Dagger

  He’s not what I imagined he should be.

  He’s not hurting me, hitting me, torturing me.

  He’s doing the opposite, in fact. He’s gathered
me in his arms and he’s singing to me the way you would sing to a child who was scared. He’s singing to me and rubbing my back and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel safe.

  I feel secure.

  I feel like he’s not going to let anything hurt me, and I relax against his body.

  I’ve never been this close to someone like him. I’ve been around plenty of aliens, but none who were such a brilliant shade of blue, none who were so obviously aware of their surroundings, none who were so big.

  He’s big.

  He must be seven feet tall or taller.

  He makes me feel like a little pixie, like a fairy, like a tiny little woman. I should be uncomfortable sitting in this stranger’s lap, but something about him makes me feel like nothing bad can touch me.

  As long as he keeps touching me, singing to me, protecting me, I know that everything is going to be okay.

  Far too soon the song ends, but he doesn’t stop rubbing my back. He keeps touching me. The man doesn’t speak, but I feel like I should. I feel like I should say something, like introduce myself or tell him who I am. I don’t know why I feel this urge to fill the silence, but I do.

  “My name is Dagger,” I say. The man doesn’t speak or react, so I keep going. “What’s your name? Do you have a name?”

  Still, he’s silent.

  Okay, so maybe aliens don’t have any manners. Is that what this is? He can tackle me and then protect me, but he can’t tell me his name.

  “Do you understand me?” I ask, wondering if there’s a language barrier to overcome. “Can you hear me?” I look up at him, and I’m surprised to see him watching me carefully. His eyes are so blue, so brilliant. They’re the brightest things I’ve ever seen, like stars on a clear night.

  He stops rubbing my back, but doesn’t move, and I don’t leave his lap. Instead, I reach up and touch his face, wondering what it is about him that has drawn me to him so. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s so big, but gentle. He’s not what I expected. I thought a man this big would be violent or aggressive, but he’s not. He’s sweet. He’s a protector.

  He’s my protector.

  I try to banish that thought because this alien couldn’t be mine. I don’t know how the species of this planet feels about interplanetary relationships. Maybe he has to marry a girl who looks like him. Maybe he already has a mate. Maybe he doesn’t like women at all.

  But I want him, suddenly, more than I’ve ever wanted anything else before.

  “Thank you for comforting me,” I say. My words are a whisper, but they’re clear as day in the quiet jungle. Suddenly, all the other noise has faded away and it’s just him and me. It’s just the two of us in this moment.

  It’s just the two of us and I kind of want it to stay this way.

  “I was very scared.”

  He reaches for my face and gently touches my cheek. I close my eyes and lean into the tender touch.

  “I know,” he says, and my eyes pop open.

  “You can understand me,” I accuse.

  “Of course I can understand you. I’m no Mirroean.”

  “What do you have against Mirroeans?” I ask, but he just scoffs. Curious. “Honestly,” I tell him. “I’ve met plenty of Mirroeans and there’s nothing wrong with them. They’re nice, friendly.”

  The alien cocks his head at me. “Are you Mirroean?”

  “What? No!” I tell him, surprised at the question. “I’m from Mars.”

  “A human from Mars? How interesting. You weren’t born on Earth?”

  It’s a fair question. I know plenty of humans from Earth. My parents are both from there, but I was born on Mars. I was born after the planet was destroyed, after our home world was gone. I was born a refugee, a child on a planet that will never be hers. I’ll never be a Martian. I will always be a lost girl.

  “No. I wasn’t born on Earth.”

  “Why are you here?” He narrows his eyes, and once again, I’m caught off guard by how beautiful they are. This man, this being, has eyes that can see to my very soul. For some reason, I feel very naked around him. I feel like I have no secrets when he looks at me like that.

  “I’m just a traveler,” I lie, and I’m surprised when he laughs loudly. He doesn’t push me off his lap, though. He doesn’t make me move.

  “A traveler with no luggage,” the alien says. “A traveler with no luggage who just happens to be wandering through the most deadly parts of the Sapphiran jungle? I don’t think so, sweetheart. Try again.”

  He’s not wrong that I’m lying, but I hate being called out on it. Who does this guy think he is? Suddenly, I forget about his eyes or how he took care of me when I was scared and overwhelmed. I push off his lap and land ass-first in the dirt. Then I turn around and look up at him. Even sitting, he towers over me.

  “Why I’m here is none of your business,” I say. “Now, if you’ll just point me in the direction of civilization, I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Out of my what?” He reaches for his head and touches his locks. They’re blue, like the rest of him. “What are these words you speak of, human? You are not in my hair. Nothing is in my hair. There is only hair.” He pats his head, and I roll my eyes. Sometimes it’s easy to forget I shouldn’t use Earth slang around non-humans. It only leads to confusion and miscommunication.

  “It’s just a saying,” I tell him. “It means I’ll leave you alone. Just tell me which way to go.” I point to where I was walking. “Is that the right way?”

  He shakes his head.

  “What about there?” I point another way.

  Once more, he shakes his head, indicating I’m not even close to figuring out where I should be going.

  “Then where do I go?” I ask.

  “We’re in the jungle,” he sounds shocked by my questions. “You’re at least a two day hike from anywhere: three if you don’t have transport waiting at the jungle’s edge.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter. I pick up a rock and throw it down, frustrated and angry. I escaped one hell-hole only to be thrust into another. I don’t really consider this place to be hellish, though. Not if I’m honest with myself.

  Sapphira – if that’s the planet I’m on – is beautiful. Everything is so much prettier than Mars. Everything smells better, sweeter. Aside from the berry incident, it seems safer, too. Even if returning to Mars was an option for me, I kind of think staying here might be nice.

  And the men don’t seem to be that bad, either.

  I shouldn’t be attracted to the big blue guy, but I can’t help myself. Even if he’s a little bit of a jerk, he’s also nice and thoughtful, and I sort of like that. I sort of like the way he took care of me and sang me a song when I was scared. It’s just a pity I’m going to have to leave him.

  He probably has a wife and a family and a job that doesn’t involve saving random humans who get lost in his forest.

  “Where are you going?” The man asks me.

  “Where are you going?” I turn his question on him, but he doesn’t answer, once again resorting to silence. Is that how this guy works? He’s quiet until the other person gets uncomfortable enough that they just start talking?

  I don’t want to play that game anymore.

  I growl at him because I’m frustrated, because I have nothing else to say. I just want to know what to do. Life was simpler when I was a child, when I had parents, when I had friends. Life was easy when I was little and there was always someone to tell me exactly what I was supposed to be doing.

  Now that I’m an adult, the world seems much more difficult, much more challenging. The world seems like it’s not so great. The world seems confusing. The world seems like one wrong choice could be the end of everything, so I’m scared to do anything.

  Finally, I stand up. I can’t stay here. I know that much. It’s probably going to start getting dark soon and I need to find somewhere to sleep for the night. I look at him and nod.

  “Thank you for saving me from the berries,” I tell him. “That was v
ery nice of you. Also, the backrub was pretty good. Thank you for that.” The man still doesn’t speak and I still don’t know his name, so I nod at him, turn around, and start walking.

  I’ve only gone a few feet when I feel his hand on my shoulder. I jump because I didn’t even hear him. He moves that quietly.

  “What?” I ask, turning back. “What is it?”

  “You’re going to die out here, Dagger.”

  Chapter 5

  Ezra

  She’s going to get herself killed and I’m not okay with that. Perhaps I should be, but I’m not. The human has no idea where she is or where she’s going, so the real question is, how did she get here?

  “What?” She asks, her jaw dropping. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that night is coming,” I point to the sky. “Soon it will be dark, and that’s when the monsters come out to play. Unless you have a way to keep yourself safe in the darkness, which it doesn’t look like you do, then you’re going to die in just a few hours.”

  Dagger bites her bottom lip. She doesn’t look like she’s pouting. She looks scared, worried. She looks like she’s lost in the world and for some reason, I want to be the one who saves her.

  “Do you have somewhere you’re going?” I ask quietly, and this time, she shakes her head. It’s as I thought. She’s running from something, not to something. She’s scared and afraid and she needs protection.

  I will protect her.

  “My name is Ezra,” I tell her. “You come with me.”

  “I…what? I can’t come with you. You’re a stranger,” she seems so serious, and I laugh.

  “Come on, human. Try to keep up.” I start walking quietly away from the creek. I don’t turn around to look at her and I don’t slow down. If my instincts are right, she’ll hesitate for a moment and then run to catch up.

  Sure enough, before I count to “ten,” I hear her crashing through the brush. She’s loud and untrained. It’ll be difficult to do any hunting with her here, so I’ll need to start teaching her to be quiet. Surviving is difficult even for the most experienced of hunters. That’s why there aren’t many of us.