Claimed by an Alien Warrior Page 6

  He stalked into the command trailer and pulled on a headset.

  “Call in some more hounds, gentlemen,” he ordered. “We have a Fox to hunt. We’re going to flush it out of this desert and throw it back in its cage.”

  Chapter Six

  Zoey cringed as she stared at the old, rundown motel in front of her. The mattresses were likely soaked through with unidentifiable bodily fluids and crawling with bugs. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Zoey didn’t exactly have an overflowing bank account. This place would have to do.

  “I need to go in and get a room,” she said, picking up her purse from its place beside the fast food bag on the passenger seat. The smell of cheesy, greasy hamburgers permeated the air inside the car. There were so many other choices she could’ve made, but cheap and fast had proven to be the primary criteria in choosing; she was eager to get off the road, and a being as large as Rendash was likely to eat a lot.

  She just wanted to get something solid in her stomach and get some sleep.

  “I will await your return,” Rendash said. He sounded exhausted. A few seconds later, he disappeared. Even though she already knew he could do that, it was a mind-breaking thing to watch.

  Zoey shook off the lingering shock of it, opened her door, and stepped out. As she settled the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she leaned into the car. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

  “On with it, human,” he muttered.

  “Zoey, alien.” She closed the door before he could respond, feeling a bit of smug satisfaction for having cut him off, and walked toward the office.

  The bright red neon sign in the window announced there was a Vacancy. Zoey pulled the door open and walked inside. The blended odors of smoke and must struck her immediately.

  The lobby was a relic of the 1970s, with wood paneling on one of the walls, a low, puke-yellow couch, and a brown and orange pattern on the worn carpet. The battered counter was the same color as the cigarette-burned couch. A short hallway ran off the side of the room. The door behind the counter looked to be heavy-duty, possibly oak, but the EMPLOYEES ONLY sign didn’t fully cover the hole punched in the paper-thin outer panel.

  “Hello?” Zoey called.

  She heard the muffled flush of a toilet. One of the doors in the hallway opened, and a woman stepped out. Zoey inwardly winced; coming out that quickly, the woman had likely skipped washing her hands.

  The woman had long, blonde, bleach-fried hair with dark roots. The thick makeup on her face didn’t quite hide the crow’s feet around her eyes and the lines near her mouth, and her heavy black eyeliner was smudged in one corner. She was thin. Her crop-top displayed a tanned belly and a navel piercing, and the hint of a tattoo peeked up from the waistband of her low-riding jeans.

  “What you need?” the woman asked as she moved to the counter. She picked up a pack of cigarettes, shook one out, and stuck it between her bright red lips.

  “I need a room,” Zoey said.

  “Course you do,” the woman said from the corner of her mouth. She took a lighter from her pocket, flicked it on, and lit the cigarette before tossing the lighter carelessly onto the counter. Was smoking indoors even legal? The woman took a long drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Fifty bucks for a single queen.”

  A single?

  Oh, no, no, no.

  “I need two beds.”

  “Sorry, honey.” The woman took another drag, held the cigarette aside between two fingers — the butt was smeared with lipstick — and turned her head to release more smoke. “I only got two rooms left, and they both got one bed.” Her eyes shifted past Zoey, looking toward the window. “You got someone waiting out there? Can book both rooms, if you really don’t want to sleep together that badly. But this is Vegas, hun.”

  As tempting as that was, Zoey couldn’t justify spending twice as much — otherwise she would’ve driven a little farther into Vegas and looked for a nicer place. “No, thank you. One room is fine.”

  The woman picked up an open ledger and plopped it on the counter in front of Zoey, pointing to a blank line with a red acrylic fingernail. “Print and sign here.”

  Zoey arched a brow. Apparently, the décor wasn’t the only out-of-date part of this place. Didn’t hotels do everything by computer these days? She glanced behind the counter; there was a single computer on a desk against the wall, a blocky thing with a glossy glass screen and a gaping slot for floppy disks. She hadn’t seen one of those things since elementary school.

  Unwilling to waste any more time, Zoey signed her name and paid for the room. The woman ran Zoey’s debit card through on a tablet she produced from under the counter.

  Guess when it comes to getting your money in their pockets as fast as possible, even places like this are willing to upgrade.

  After sliding the book to its original place, the woman tossed a key onto the counter. “One-twelve. It’s around the back,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the door.

  Zoey snatched up the key and hurried out the door. As soon as she was outside, she sucked in a desperate lungful of fresh air.

  Returning to the car, Zoey got in and started the engine.

  The rear seat creaked as Rendash, still unseen, moved. “What is that stench clinging to you?”

  “Cigarette smoke. Nasty stuff. I don’t recommend it,” she replied as she pulled out of their spot and drove to the rear of the motel.

  “Your original scent is far more appealing.”

  “My—” Zoey looked in the rearview mirror, which was still angled to display the seemingly empty back seat. “You’ve been smelling me?”

  “You emit a smell into the surrounding air. Are human senses so dull that you cannot detect such scents?”

  “Of course not.” Zoey blushed as she parked the car and removed the key from the ignition. “We’re here.”

  She popped the trunk, snagged the fast food bag, and got out, slamming the door behind her.

  The car rocked; Zoey assumed it was due to the movements of her invisible passenger. She opened the back door and continued to the trunk. After tossing her blanket over her shoulder, she set the suitcases on the ground and tugged up their handles. The box of novels was likely safe; a thief would have to be desperate to go through the struggle of hauling them down to a used bookstore to sell for a dollar of store credit a piece, if that.

  She shut the trunk and — clutching the bag of burgers along with one of the suitcase handles — wheeled her belongings to the door of her room. She fumbled the key into the lock and turned it as Ren closed the car door. Opening the room door, she grabbed her stuff, stepped inside, and flipped on the lights.

  She didn’t notice anything skittering for cover in the sudden light; that was a good sign, even if it wasn’t a definitive all clear. The lamplight was dull yellow, revealing a room that was a good match for the lobby — the same brown-and-orange carpet pattern, the same wood panel walls, and baby-poop-yellow bedding. Directly across from the foot of the bed sat a dresser with an old tube TV — complete with rabbit ears — on top.

  “A blast from the past,” she muttered, setting her things down on the floor and tossing the greasy bag of food and her blanket onto the bed.

  The door closed behind her, calling her attention. She turned to see Rendash’s form bleed into view. Zoey’s eyes widened. The closest she could liken it to was dripping some dye into a glass of water and watching it diffuse to color all the water solidly, but that didn’t do the image justice.

  He was tall — like, duck-under-the-doorway tall. Seven feet if he was an inch. And damn, he was large. His shoulders were broad, and his arms — all four of them — were corded with muscle. He wasn’t bulky like a body builder, but there was no doubt he was strong.

  Where his scales weren’t covered in dust, they were a deep, vibrant emerald that made her think of a dense jungle. The size, texture, and shade of his scales seemed to change at various points on his body. On his belly and the insides of his arms and legs, they were fine like
snake skin and a bit paler. His shoulders and the outsides of his arms and legs had larger, darker scales, with raised ridges that would look at home on the back of an alligator.

  His hair was a duller than his skin, forest green rather than emerald, and ran from the top of his head in thick, dreadlock-like ropes that flowed down his back and brushed his shoulders. It bore subtle undertones of blue and yellow. The sides of his head were bare. His facial features were the embodiment of brutal sensuality and arrogance, almost elfin in nature — right down to his pointed ears. He had high cheekbones, a sharp, narrow jaw, and a wide nose. All four of his eyes were fixed on her, their color reminiscent of peridots.

  Zoey’s gaze traveled down his body. He was more or less humanoid in shape, but his musculature was different; everything was longer, leaner.

  Of course it’s different. He’s a four-armed alien!

  His lower arms were several inches below the upper pair, which created an overlapping set of pectorals, their lines blurred by his scales. His long torso tapered down toward a narrow waist. Despite the texture of his skin, all his muscles were well-defined — especially his twelve-pack of abs.

  Better by the dozen, right?

  She’d never seen so many muscles in her life. They were positively lickable.

  Did I seriously just think that?

  She hadn’t merely thought about it, she’d imagined it, had pictured running her tongue over every ridge of muscle on his torso, lingering at his belly to offer individual attention to every ab. Her pussy clenched, and a sudden rush of arousal flooded her.

  Her eyes dipped, and Zoey gasped, jaw agape. It was several seconds before she was able to overcome her shock and turn away from him.

  “Oh, my God, you’re naked! And you called me primitive!” She snatched up her blanket and blindly threw it at him. “Cover yourself!”

  It wasn’t like Rendash covering himself with her favorite blanket could erase the image from her mind — that would be scalded into her memory for the rest of her life. The size of his cock was breathtaking; she was frightened to guess what it was like at full attention. Though it had to be at least six or seven inches flaccid, it wasn’t only a matter of length that had shocked her. It looked as thick as her wrist, and there were ridges along the top.

  She could just imagine what those ridges would do inside her, all the spots they’d perfectly brush. She squeezed her thighs together as though it could ease the sudden throbbing of her sex.

  Talk about ribbed for her pleasure…

  Oh, my God, what is wrong with me? He’s an alien!

  She inhaled deeply. This was just her body telling her it’d been too long, that was all. A severe case of sexual frustration. Her body craved intimacy and sex and it didn’t care who — or what — it came from.

  “I do not understand why you are upset,” he said.

  Zoey wrung her fingers together. “I take it nudity isn’t a problem in your society?”

  “Why would it be a problem?”

  “It’s just that… No one—” She groaned. “Here, people don’t just walk around naked. It’s…indecent. Are you covered?”

  “Which part do you prefer I cover, human?”

  “Are you serious right now?”

  “I am covered.” His voice held a hint of mirth. “I hope you will forgive me. I wasn’t satisfied with the clothing options when I fought my way out of the back of a transport and ran into the wasteland.”

  Zoey turned her head and chanced a peek at Rendash. He’d wrapped her blanket around his hips like a kilt; it looked startlingly natural on him.

  “You just surprised a girl, is all.” Her eyes helplessly roved over his body again before she forced them up to his face. She motioned toward the bathroom. “Do you need to, um…”

  He blinked — his side eyes first, and then the front pair, just slightly out of sync. “You’ll have to be more specific. What is back there?”

  “A bathroom. Do you need to…pee or anything?” Zoey’s cheeks felt like they were on fire.

  “I believe I understand your meaning, human.” His gaze swept over her, slowly, and she shivered under its intensity. He walked past her, pausing only to remove the blanket and toss it onto the bed.

  “Ren!” she exclaimed, turning away, but not before catching a glimpse of a very firm, very fine ass.

  “I will return. I’m sure you prefer I not soil the fabric.”

  “Yes, I prefer you don’t. But you better cover yourself back up when you’re done,” she called, bending to pick up her purse from the floor and slipping its strap over her shoulder. “I’ll go get us some drinks.”

  She walked to the door and opened it.

  Rendash was suddenly behind her, catching her arm in his firm grip and slamming the door shut before she had a chance to step out. Zoey’s heart leapt into her throat again; that feeling was becoming a little too familiar for her liking. He spun her to face him and placed his lower hands on her hips as he pressed her against the door.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  Zoey tilted her head back to look up at him. His upper lip was drawn back to reveal an elongated pair of canines to either side of his mouth, like doubled-up vampire fangs. It wouldn’t take a big leap in imagination to picture him using them to tear out someone’s throat.

  “I-I was just going to get some water from the vending machine. Drinks.”

  As he stared down at her, something in his face softened, and he eased his hold. “I cannot keep you safe if you are not nearby.”

  “The vending machine is near the office,” Zoey said, her fear dwindling. He said he wanted to keep her safe; okay, sure. Great. But part of her suspected his reaction was because he didn’t trust her not to run, and that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if he believed she was going to betray him. “It’s not far, and I won’t be long. You can…do your business while I’m gone. Use the toilet and maybe…” Her attention shifted to the dried blood on his face and shoulder. “Maybe take a shower? We can eat when you’re done.”

  “You will return soon?”

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d say there was the tiniest shred of desperation in his voice.

  “Yes,” she replied. “I’ll be right back.”

  His thumbs moved in small, soothing circles over her hips, and he removed his hand from the door to cup her chin. The scales on his palm were rough, but not painfully so; they were just enough to elicit a thrill in her at every point of contact.

  He lowered his face, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled. “Quickly then, little human.”

  Was she mad about him calling her human before? This time, his words ignited a fire deep inside her, his voice gently stoking the flame like a soft breath.

  “Okay,” she rasped.

  He released her reluctantly and stepped back. She made the mistake of letting her gaze dip.

  Oh, yeah. He took the blanket off, but never made it into the bathroom.

  And he was hardening!

  Eyes wide, Zoey spun to the door and fumbled for the handle. “Make sure you cover yourself before you come out,” she said hurriedly, escaping the room the instant the door was open wide enough for her to fit through. Once she was out, she slammed it shut behind her.

  Zoey hauled her purse strap back up and clutched the bag to her chest, taking a deep breath. Not in a million years could she have guessed how this day would go. Eighteen hours ago, she’d been getting ready for work, telling herself things were hard, but it would all work out while she brushed her teeth. That felt like a lifetime ago, now.

  She walked along the building, rounding it to head for the vending machine. If nothing else, it felt good to be up and moving. She was so used to being on her feet for ten-plus hours a day, every day, that sitting in her little car for long stretches could shift from uncomfortable to painful rather quickly.

  There was a loud thump from the inside of one of the rooms as Zoey passed. She jumped and veered away as a man and woman began shouting
at each other, their voices barely muffled by the wall.

  How many times had she heard arguments like that in some of the foster homes she’d lived in, or from the surrounding apartments back in Santa Barbara?

  “Right at home,” she whispered.

  When she arrived at the vending machine, Zoey opened her purse and reached in for her wallet. Her fingers brushed over the candy bars she’d stuffed inside before bumping against the slender case of her phone. She’d silenced it after loading her stuff in the car and hadn’t checked it since. Closing her eyes, she took several fortifying breaths before taking the phone out. She held it in the palm of her hand for several seconds. There was nothing to be afraid of on the phone. It held nothing but words.

  So why the dread in her gut?

  Opening her eyes, she pressed the side button and looked down at her notifications. The screen was filled with texts and missed calls. Sighing, she unlocked the phone and went to the home screen. She had six missed calls and the little text icon showed twenty-six messages waiting for her in the corner. She pressed it.

  Joshua was at the top of the conversations list, with twenty-five unread messages. Zoey bit her lip; she still felt something for him, even after what he’d done, and she hated that. His betrayal had stricken deep.

  Will I ever be enough?

  She checked the only other message first — a quick text from Mel telling her to be safe.

  Knowing it was stupid, Zoey went back to the list of conversations and pressed on Josh’s name.

  im sorry zo. i was a jerk. plz dont b mad.

  we can still b friends. i want 2 b.

  zo, plz answer me. i didnt mean 2 hurt u.

  Zoey scrolled through the messages. He begged her to forgive him, begged for another chance, told her they could remain roommates – even had the nerve to suggest a threesome. He didn’t seem to know what he wanted, but Zoey had figured it out by now.