The Krinar Captive Page 14

  On Tuesday, Zaron had allowed her to send an email to Evers Capital explaining that she’d gotten delayed in Costa Rica by two weeks and asking to reschedule her interview. By Wednesday evening, they still hadn’t responded, and Emily knew that this was it: she’d blown her one chance to work with a hedge fund legend—not to mention, have a job in her field any time soon. With all the recent layoffs, Wall Street was drowning in analysts with her skill set, and everyone was competing for a rapidly shrinking pool of jobs.

  If the upcoming Krinar invasion didn’t end the world as Emily knew it, she’d be unemployed for much longer than she’d hoped.

  The thought brought her back to her senses. It was silly to worry about a missed interview when her entire species was facing a threat as serious as the Krinar. Over the last few days, Emily had tried to find out more about Zaron’s people, and what she’d learned wasn’t reassuring.

  She’d already known her captor was stronger and faster than a human man, but she’d ascribed some of that to his tall, athletic frame. His body was magnificent, his sleekly bronzed skin covering layers of lean, hard-packed muscle. Any man of his build would’ve been stronger than average, and Emily hadn’t realized the full extent of Zaron’s differences until their walk two days earlier, when she’d seen him lift a fallen tree with one hand and move it off their path.

  He’d done it casually, as if the thick trunk was a tiny branch, and Emily had stopped, gaping at him in disbelief. By her estimation, that tree was at least a foot and a half in diameter.

  “What’s wrong?” he’d asked, but she’d just shaken her head, struck mute by shock. Walking over to the tree, she’d crouched and pushed at it with all her strength, hoping it was somehow lighter than it looked, but the trunk hadn’t budged even a fraction of an inch. The tree was so heavy it was practically welded to the ground, yet Zaron had moved it with no more effort than Emily would exert to lift a two-pound weight.

  Her captor had observed her efforts with obvious amusement, his beautiful lips curved in a smile, and Emily had felt a cold trickle of fear as she recalled how fast he’d caught her that time at the lake.

  The Krinar didn’t just have superior technology; they were more powerful in every way.

  “How did you evolve to be so fast and strong?” she’d asked when they’d resumed walking, and he’d shrugged, stonewalling her. She’d noticed that while Zaron seemed hesitant to lie to her outright, he had no problem withholding information when it suited his purposes. There were certain topics he preferred to avoid, and Emily suspected it had to do with things he thought might scare her. Whenever she tried to ask him about the types of weapons his people possessed or what they were going to do once they settled on Earth, he directed the conversation elsewhere or distracted her with sex—and it seemed like the topic of Krinar evolution was one that was also off limits.

  It was the same when she’d noticed that all her meals at Zaron’s house consisted of fruits, vegetables, and other plant-based foods. At first, she’d thought it had to do with his profession—he loved plants and was always telling her interesting tidbits about Costa Rican flora—but then she’d begun to wonder if there was another reason for his diet.

  “Why don’t you eat any meat?” she’d asked, munching on a salad his house had prepared for their dinner. “Is that your personal dietary preference or a general trait of the Krinar?”

  “The latter,” Zaron had said. “Like humans, we’re omnivorous, but we prefer plants. On Krina, many plants are rich in nutrients and dense in calories, so we’ve never needed to eat animals to survive.”

  “Oh, I see.” That had surprised Emily. For some reason, she’d assumed that the Krinar had been hunters and gatherers at some point, similar to primitive humans. And then she’d realized why she’d made that assumption.

  There was something predatory in the grace with which Zaron moved, something that kept reminding her of a feline hunter. She had the disquieting impression that if provoked, he could pounce in an instant. His gaze, too, was sharp and clear, often tracking her movements with the intensity of a cat stalking a butterfly.

  “Are there a lot of large predators on your planet?” she’d asked. Maybe the Krinar had been prey at some point in their early history and had to develop their speed and strength to survive—though that still didn’t explain Zaron’s unusual way of moving.

  “A few,” he’d answered without elaborating, and Emily had known he was stonewalling her again.

  Whatever Zaron was hiding had to be worse than his people’s colonization plans—and that made Emily very, very nervous.

  Still, as she was showering, her thoughts kept returning to the interview she’d missed and the job that was now out of her reach. Every day, she kept an eye out for an opportunity to escape, but Zaron watched her carefully during their walks, and there was no way she could get out of his intelligent house. And now it was too late: Evers Capital would never hire her.

  Sighing, Emily stepped out of the shower and let the Krinar technology dry her. Putting on one of the dresses Zaron had left for her, she headed back to the bedroom, where her drowned phone lay on the floating plank next to her bed.

  Sitting down, Emily picked it up. It felt dry, but the screen was dark and unresponsive. Automatically, she pressed the button on the side and held it, watching the screen without much hope.

  The screen lit up.

  Emily jumped up, her heart hammering, and stared at the screen in disbelief. The familiar icons loaded with agonizing slowness, but the phone was unmistakably alive.

  Emily’s hand shook as she swiped across the screen to unlock the phone. She’d paid for a roaming package before embarking on the trip, but there was only one bar of reception showing—likely because they were inside a cave. Not that the number of bars mattered: the battery was nearly depleted. At best, she had only a few minutes before the phone died, and she had to make them count.

  Whom could she call? Her friends back home? The Costa Rican police? Emily had prudently programmed a few emergency numbers into her phone before leaving the US, and she flipped through them now, her mind racing. She dismissed the idea of calling friends right away; there was no guarantee any of them would pick up, and it would take too long to explain her situation and ask them to send help. With the local police, there would be a language barrier. Emily knew basic Spanish, but there was no way she could convey everything and make herself understood.

  The best option was the American embassy, she decided after a moment. Odds were high they’d dismiss her as a nutcase, but if she could get through to them somehow, her warning could make a real difference.

  Holding her breath, Emily pressed the call button and held the phone up to her ear. One second, two, three, four… The silence seemed to stretch forever, but just as Emily became convinced the call wouldn’t go through, she heard the long beep of connection.

  “United States Embassy.” The female voice was pleasant and calm. “How may I direct your call?”

  Emily’s knees went weak with relief. “Yes, hi. My name is Emily Ross, and I’m an American citizen.” She spoke quickly, not knowing when the battery would die. “I’m being held captive in the Guanacaste region. I need you to listen to me carefully. The man holding me here has told me that there is a threat to our country. An invasion will happen in a matter of days. The people who are coming call themselves the Krinar, and they have weapons that are far more advanced than ours. You have to warn the President. I know this sounds crazy, but—”

  The quiet hum of background noise against her ear turned to silence, and Emily realized it was over.

  Her phone was completely dead.

  Lowering the device, she stared at the dark screen in frustration. Had the operator heard anything Emily had said, and if she had, would she pass along the message or dismiss it as the ramblings of a drunk tourist? Emily had purposefully avoided the word “alien,” but what she had said was not much better. Even to her own ears, she’d sounded like a lunatic.

/>   Emily’s palms were damp and her legs shaky as she put the phone back on the floating plank and sat down on the bed. She was still buzzing with adrenaline, and it took several minutes before she calmed down enough to reach for the tablet Zaron had given her. Whatever happened next was out of her hands. Either the operator would convey her message, or she wouldn’t. Emily had to be content with the knowledge that she’d done the best she could.

  Taking a deep breath, she told the tablet, “Independence Day, please,” and scooted back on the bed. The intelligent furniture immediately curved around her, intuiting that she wanted back support for her movie-watching experience.

  Emily’s choice of entertainment was masochistic, but she didn’t care.

  Maybe if she saw humans kicking some alien ass on screen, she’d believe Earth stood a chance against the real thing.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  As the days flew by, Zaron began to dread the ships’ arrival. It wasn’t because his team wasn’t ready—everything was in place on their end—but because every hour that ticked by brought him closer to the day when he’d have to let Emily go.

  Once the Krinar made contact with the human leaders, he’d no longer be able to use the non-disclosure mandate as justification for keeping her.

  Ever since Zaron had told Emily about his people’s true intentions, she’d done her best to keep him at a distance—emotionally, at least. There was no more talk about her past, no more sharing of painful experiences. But little by little, Zaron learned more about her, and every new tidbit he uncovered intensified his fascination with the human girl—a fascination that was beginning to border on obsession.

  She liked strawberries but hated blueberries, enjoyed sci-fi movies but preferred to read nonfiction books. Her mind was sharply analytical—she was at home with numbers and spreadsheets—but she needed nature and the outdoors to feel complete.

  “Whenever I have some free time—which is pretty much never—I like to go to the park,” she confided as they sat by the lake, for once talking without arguing. “It energizes me, helps me rest my brain and shake off all the cubicle cobwebs.”

  Zaron understood that; his enjoyment of the natural environment was a key reason for his choice of specialization. Even as a child, he’d been fascinated with living things, both plants and animals. However, something about what Emily had said bothered him. “Why do you have so little free time?” he asked, frowning. “Don’t most humans work nine to five?”

  “Not the investment banking humans,” she said wryly. “My breed works eighty-hour weeks, and that’s when our workload is light. On one project last year, I had to work a hundred and forty hours a week for three months straight.”

  Zaron did some quick mental math. If she was working a hundred and forty hours a week, then she had only four hours a day when she wasn’t working—less than half the daily sleep requirement for humans. He could work that much because the Krinar needed significantly less sleep, but Emily’s health could suffer from that kind of pace.

  “You shouldn’t have put in those hours,” he said, unable to keep the censure out of his voice. “You could get sick if you don’t get enough sleep.”

  Emily gave him a puzzled look, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I didn’t plan to do it forever, just until I could get a similar job with better hours—which the job at that hedge fund would’ve been, by the way.”

  Zaron felt an unwelcome pang of guilt at the reminder that he’d cost her the job she’d wanted so desperately. It was only as he’d gotten to know Emily better that he’d understood why that interview had been such a big deal for her. The human girl was fiercely independent, and she’d achieved a great deal in her twenty-four years despite having a rough start in life. From Zaron’s initial background check on her, he’d known that she’d graduated from Northwestern, one of the highest-ranked US colleges, and gotten a job with a major investment bank right after graduation. However, it wasn’t until two days ago, when Zaron had read up on the institution of foster homes, that he’d realized how difficult Emily’s path must’ve been without any family to support her.

  “Who paid for your college?” he asked, his frown deepening as the question occurred to him. “Those institutions are expensive in your country, I believe.”

  Emily nodded. “They are. I got lucky: I ran track and cross country, so I was offered a scholarship that covered the majority of my tuition. For the rest, I used a combination of government grants, part-time jobs, and loans.”

  “Your aunt didn’t help you?”

  Emily’s eyebrows rose. “Aunt Wendy? No. She passed away from a stroke when I was seventeen, and for several years before that, she’d lived off a disability pension. She couldn’t have helped me even if she’d wanted to.”

  “I see.” Zaron struggled to keep his tone level. He felt angry on her behalf, and he didn’t know why. “So you have no one you can turn to.”

  Emily blinked. “That’s not true. I have my friends and my cat and my boyfr—” She stopped mid-word, but it was too late.

  Zaron’s anger transformed into white-hot jealousy.

  “Boyfriend?” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded dangerously low. “You have a boyfriend?” Zaron had assumed Emily was single because she lived alone in a studio and was traveling by herself, but now he realized the folly of that assumption. As independent as Emily was, she could easily have a man waiting for her in New York—a man she hadn’t mentioned until now.

  To Zaron’s relief, she shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice tight. “I don’t have one. Not anymore.”

  Zaron’s jealousy blazed back to life. It was obvious that whoever this male was, he’d hurt Emily—which meant she’d cared for him.

  She might even be in love with him still.

  “Who is he?” The rage searing Zaron’s chest was irrational, he knew, but he couldn’t shake off the conviction that Emily belonged to him, that she was his and any man who touched her deserved to be ripped apart. Krinar males tended to be territorial and possessive about their mates, but Emily wasn’t Zaron’s mate. He had no reason to feel so strongly about a human girl who was with him only for the next few days. Still, no amount of rational reasoning could keep the fury out of Zaron’s voice as he demanded, “What is his name?”

  Emily gave him a wary look. “What does it matter? It’s over. We broke up over four months ago.”

  Four months? Red specks edged Zaron’s vision. A mere four months ago, some puny human had been touching Emily, kissing her… making love to her.

  “Who is he? How long were you two together?” Zaron could hear the dark edge in his voice, and he knew Emily could too, because she rose to her feet and took a step to the side, staring at him like he was some kind of feral animal.

  Zaron forced himself to take a deep breath. He might’ve felt like said animal, but he didn’t want to scare Emily. Getting up in a slow, controlled motion, he stepped toward her and caught her hand, keeping his grip gentle. “Tell me, angel,” he said in a softer tone. “Tell me about this former boyfriend of yours. What happened between you two?”

  Emily looked uneasy. “You… you won’t do anything to him, right?”

  Fuck. She was perceptive. The ancient predator within Zaron had already been planning to track down this human male and end his existence. Now he couldn’t—if only because it would upset Emily.

  “Of course I won’t do anything to him,” Zaron said with a calmness he didn’t feel. “Why would I?”

  The question was directed as much at himself as at Emily, but it had the desired effect. She relaxed slightly, though wariness still lurked in her gaze. “I don’t know,” she said. “You just seemed… angry for a moment.”

  Zaron took another deep breath and pulled Emily toward him, molding her slender curves against his body. “I’m not,” he assured her. And he wasn’t—not anymore. The primitive urge rising within him now was quite different in nature.

  Sliding his hands into Emily’s silky hair, he bent hi
s head and took her mouth in a deep, voracious kiss.

  * * *

  Zaron didn’t get the answers to his questions until a couple of hours later, when Emily lay tired and replete in his arms. Before they got completely carried away, he’d brought her to a grassy meadow just beyond the rocky shore of the lake, and they rested there now, watching the water sparkle in the sun some fifty feet away.

  “So tell me about this mystery ex-boyfriend of yours,” Zaron said, keeping his tone light despite his persistent desire to tear the unknown man into pieces. “How did you two meet?”

  “It was in college,” Emily answered without lifting her head off his shoulder. She sounded relaxed and mildly drowsy, and Zaron knew he’d succeeded in getting her mind off his earlier behavior. “Jason and I were friends at first; then he asked me out. We were both Econ majors, had the same circle of friends, and were applying for the same kinds of jobs. It made a lot of sense for us to be together, so we started dating. It was casual at first, just two college kids hanging out, but then we both ended up getting jobs in investment banking after graduation and moving to New York City. To save money, we decided to live together, and so we did—until four months ago, when he told me he couldn’t handle my hours and moved out.”

  She spoke calmly, as if the breakup didn’t bother her in the least, but Zaron felt the tension creeping back into her slim frame.

  “Why couldn’t he handle your hours?” he asked, keeping his tone even. “Wasn’t he in the same profession as you?”

  “He was, but he got lucky. About a year after our graduation, before the market tanked, he got offered a job at a venture capital firm, and his hours improved. So yeah.” Emily glanced up at Zaron. “That was it, the whole story. Very low drama.”

  Except it wasn’t, not for her—Zaron could tell that much.

  “How many years were you together with this Jason?” he asked, fighting the jealousy that still threatened to consume him. “When in college did you start dating?”