Jac was scared. Any idiot could see that, and Rynn was definitely not an idiot.

Letting Keris take care of their ascent vector, he was free to turn his attention to the human woman standing next to him. She’d been shot at and then practically thrown over his shoulder and dragged aboard an alien vessel. Anyone in their right mind would be scared to death.

He made sure to keep still, not making any sudden movements as he tried to get a read on her mental and emotional state. From the sideways glances, though, she was far more worried about the ship’s optical extension. It was still watching them from the middle of the main cabin, its violet eye unblinking. Technically, Keris didn’t need it. It was part of the older, original ship’s systems before he’d had her refitted and internal sensors installed. When he’d asked why she still used it, she’d said she preferred it. That it felt more “natural.”

Natural was all well and good, but not when it was scaring their guest half to death. With a firm look and a jerk of his head, he ordered her to switch to the internal sensor array. He could practically hear the sigh as the eye turned and trundled away along one of the floor tracks to disappear into its wall compartment.

“Infiltration expert?” Jac returned her attention to him. “So you sneak onto other worlds and steal women?”

O…kay, the sharp tongue was back. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, feeling the prickle of stubble there for a moment before answering.

“Well, not exactly. Usually I…” he trailed off again. How the draanth did he tell her he killed people? It wasn’t an admission likely to inspire confidence, now was it? And the last thing he wanted was for her to freak out on him. Especially in an enclosed space like the Keris.

He cleared his throat as she gave him a pointed look, obviously waiting for his response. “Usually I’m only sent if the continued existence of the target is less than desirable.”

She frowned, her brows snapping together. “Continued existence… what does—” Her expression cleared and she folded her arms, a hard look on her face. The temperature in the cabin felt like it dropped at least ten degrees. “You kill people? So you’re an assassin?”

“Incoming contact from the Veral’vias,” Keris announced, saving him from answering for the moment.

“A Vias ship?” Rynn frowned as he turned to the command console. “That’s a K’Vass clan designation. Who commands it?”

At a press of his boot against the bottom of the pilot’s chair, it automatically moved back and aside, allowing a second chair, intended for the copilot, to rise out of the floor. At the same time the command consoles reconfigured themselves, just in case.

“Fenriis K’Vass,” the AI replied calmly, lights blinking in time on its housing in the center of the main console. “He’s hailing us. Should I reply?”

“Who is Fenriis K’Vass?” Jac wanted to know, sliding into place in the copilot’s seat.

She jumped a little as the harness dropped onto her shoulders, but then she reached up and grabbed the ends to strap herself in as she looked at him with interest. Rynn cut an approving glance to Keris’ housing. The AI could have strapped Jac in automatically, wrapping the harness around her body, but it hadn’t. Obviously, it had realized such an action would have scared the human woman.

“He’s a cousin to the emperor’s sister-sons… errr, the princes,” he decoded Latharian social structure into Terran as best he could. “Tarrick K’Vass was the war commander who captured the first of your kind from your base.” Lifting his voice, he addressed Keris. “Answer his hail but voice only on our side, please. Put him on screen, though, I want to see how he reacts.”

Keris didn’t reply, but the view on the screen in front of them changed from that of a rapidly dwindling Earth to the bridge of a Latharian war-ship. A large warrior sat, one hand rested lightly on the arm of the command chair, the other raised with his chin resting on his fingers. It was a calculated “relaxed” pose and one Rynn recognized easily. With his hand where it was, Fenriis could launch missiles in a heartbeat.

“Latharian vessel. Identify yourself,” the big warrior ordered, his gaze implacable as he looked at the screen. Even though he couldn’t see either Rynn or Jac, the direct look made it appear that he could.

A hand on the console, Rynn kept their side of the feed muted to explain to Jac. “Fenriis K’Vass. The leathers say he’s an experienced warrior and the short hair without braids means that he’s a war commander. He’s past the need to count personal victories. Instead he dedicates those acts to the empire.”

She nodded, her eyes wide. Rynn let go of the mute and spoke.

“Xaandrynn, son of Xaandril, of the Keris’tial,” he introduced himself. “What business is it of the K’Vass?”

There was no response on the view screen, but Rynn practically felt the intake of breath from all the warriors on the other bridge. It wasn’t often a war commander was spoken to that way, but Rynn was no ordinary warrior.

Fenriis frowned, but Rynn easily spotted the look of surprise before he covered it. “What does the emperor’s shadow want on Earth? And why can’t I see you?”

“That’s the emperor’s business, not yours,” Rynn replied, his tone brusque.

“Of course.” Fenriis inclined his head, exactly as Rynn expected him to. No one argued with the emperor, not unless they wanted to explain themselves to the man himself. “Then I hope your mission was a success. However, we are receiving reports from the Terrans about Latharian ships in their airspace.” He lifted an eyebrow in query. “I am assuming that is something to do with you?”

Shit. They’d been made. Rynn sighed. “Unfortunately, my mission met with some… resistance. There was a combat team waiting for me. Shots were fired and there was some property damage.”

Fenriis’ expression became grim. “To interfere with a mission from the emperor is treason.”

“Indeed.” Rynn’s hands moved easily over the console in front of him, collecting all the sensor readings and visuals Keris had recorded. “I’m sending you over a data-burst. We could have a purist incursion here already. I took care of most of the team sent after me, but you might want to offer aid to the Terrans to rout out the rest. I’d stay and sort it myself, but I have my orders direct from Daaynal himself.”

“Of course. Consider it done. Goddess speed, Shadow.”

The feed cut out, the screen in front of them changing to a view of the satellite that orbited the Earth, the moon Rynn recalled idly, and then as it moved out of the way, Fenriis’ War Group came into view.

“So close…” Jac whispered, surprise on her face. “How do we not know these are here?”

Rynn shrugged, still busy at the console. “Our technology is much in advance of yours. It’s a simple feat to keep ourselves hidden. Besides, your leaders know Fenriis is there. They’ve already opened negotiations.”

“If that’s the case…” She leaned on the arm of the copilot’s chair, watching him. “Then why didn’t you tell that guy there, Fenree or something, I was here? Why didn’t you let him see me?”

Crunch point. Rynn didn’t look at her as he checked the bearing that would take them to Lathar Prime and switched from the thrust engines that had taken them out of the planet’s orbits to the FTL ones that would take them the rest of the way.

“I didn’t want him to see you because I was only supposed to pick up one female, not two. And I don’t plan on taking either of you back.”

Shock coursed through Jac. What did he mean, he wasn’t taking them home?

Suddenly all the stories about the Lathar on the news banded together and ambushed her, playing through her mind and resurrecting all the old “abducted by aliens” paranoia that had been fed through the media in recent years. Even before the Lathar had kidnapped the Sentinel women.

The Lathar had no women of their own anymore. So they “claimed” women, each warrior taking his pick from the captives to become his. His woman. His concubine. His to bed and to bear his children. The reports that had filtered back from the Sentinel women said that some of them had married their captors and were happy. Jess, Lizzie’s sister, was one of them.

Had Rynn just claimed her?

A shiver ran over her skin, heat rolling through her body at the thought of being claimed by the big, well-muscled alien warrior. What would it be like to be with one of the Lathar? What would it be like with… Rynn.

“Don’t panic,” he said, his voice little more than a brusque growl. “I’m not going to force you or anything like that. My only interest lies in getting you back to Lathar Prime. You’ve seen my ship. Our technology.”

He levered himself up out of the chair without warning, a burst of movement that would instantly have given away that he wasn’t human. It seemed he’d dropped all pretense now they weren’t on Earth anymore.

“It’ll be the emperor’s decision what to do with you. Not mine.”

He hadn’t taken her because he wanted her. Heat hit Jac’s cheeks at light speed and she bit her lip in mortification. Thank god she hadn’t actually asked him if he was claiming her. Blurted it out and embarrassed herself. Never mind that the idea wasn’t entirely unwelcome. She guessed she wasn’t his type. Men built like that, no matter the species, didn’t go for small-town curvy women like her. She was less girl next door than homely and had gotten used to the fact that after thirty… well, she’d just become invisible.

Men like Rynn… they went for skinny blondes with tits that defied gravity and no cellulite.

She kept her sigh to herself and followed him to the back of the cabin. He was busy checking some kind of readout on the top of the blue tube that encased Lizzie.

She watched him curiously. For all that the Lathar were obviously a warrior race and the images she’d seen on the news from the attack on the Sentinel were scary as hell, Rynn didn’t scare her. He was big and obviously a soldier, as well as extremely dangerous if his reactions during the attack at the Kallson house were anything to go by, but she wasn’t scared of him. Something about his manner and reactions told her that he wouldn’t hurt her. He might scare the ever-loving daylights out of her, yes, but she didn’t think he’d actually hurt her.

“Why did that Fenry guy call you the emperor’s shadow?” she asked. But once she’d asked the first question, she found she couldn’t stop.

The words tumbled out, almost all over each other, as all the worries that had occurred to her over the last few minutes made themselves known.

“What is that thing around her? Is she okay? Why do you want her anyway? You guys already have her sister…” Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god, Amanda! Those men will get her! We have to go back!”

She’d half turned to rush back to the… wheel? Joystick… whatever the hell navigated this thing and turn it around so they could go and rescue Amanda. She wouldn’t stand a chance against the warriors that had attacked them. They’d kill her.

“Goddess’ tits!” Rynn hissed behind her and a large hand clamped around her upper arm and hauled her around.

She squealed in shock, lashing out, but he easily avoided the blows by the simple act of yanking her up against his hard chest.

His expression was fierce, but concerned, not scary.

“I knew human women talked a lot,” he told her, the corner of his lips quirking up a little.

She watched in fascination. He was panty-wetting handsome and for a moment, she could believe the light in his blue eyes was all for her.

“But you’re obviously gifted in that regard. Now, sit down.”

Jac refused to cave in to her instincts and nestle against him. Instead, she looked up at him stubbornly. “Nuh-uh, I’m not sitting down until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

He sighed, frustration crossing his handsome features. He lifted a hand to brush her hair gently back from her face. His fingertips came away red with blood.

“Right now I’m going to deal with your injuries. Then I’ll send a message to Fenriis to have Amanda Kallson picked up. You’re quite right. She should be with her daughters. Especially with Lady Jessica’s con—”

“Lady Jessica’s what?” she demanded when he trailed off and looked guilty.

“That is not my truth to tell,” he answered, walking her backward. Something bumped against the back of her legs and she squeaked again before she realized it was just another seat emerging from the metal floor of the ship.

“I wish it would stop doing that!” she hissed and sat down heavily. She looked up at Rynn as he collected something from yet another compartment that had opened up in the walls. It was a large box, which he set down on the seat next to her. When he opened it up, she realized it was a first aid kit.

“I do not have the scars of training of a healer,” he said, his hands gentle as he began to clean up the cut on her temple. “But I’ve picked up a few tricks here and there.”

She kept her head still, watching him as he worked. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He didn’t look at her, frowning as he concentrated on cleaning her temple. “Which particular question. You asked rather a few…”

“Why did that Fenry—”

“Fenriis.”

“Yeah, right, Fenriis. Why did he call you the emperor’s shadow?” she asked, curiously. “On Earth we use that for kids or dogs that tail their owners. Like, they’re always in the object of their fascination’s shadow? Somehow, I can’t see you tripping over this emperor’s heels. You’re a bit big for that… Well, unless he’s huge, I guess.”

Rynn smiled a little, the small curve of his sensuously full lips hijacking her attention for a moment. Seriously, a guy shouldn’t be allowed lips like that—ones that made any red-blooded woman think of sex—no matter what species he was.

“Daaynal is a large male, yes,” he replied, smoothing something cool and soothing over the cut on her temple. Instantly it stopped stinging and she breathed a sigh of relief. “But he’s only a little larger than I am. The emperor’s shadow is a title, like the emperor’s champion… or as humans would say, the king’s champion, or the like? It means that I use the shadows to my advantage and go where others cannot.”

“Oh.” Her lips paused on a little “o” as she realized what he meant. “Because you’re an assassin.”

He shrugged, packing the first aid kit away. “Assassin, spy. Call me what you will. I do what the emperor needs done. My family has always served the Imperial line.”

She nodded, filing the information away. “You guys have large families, don’t you? You call them clans?”

“Usually, yes. My clan was mostly wiped out during the War of the Nine Wastes, though. There aren’t enough of us left to claim a clan name anymore, so we don’t use one.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t help reaching out and putting her hand on his arm in sympathy. “It’s an awful thing to lose a family.”

He shrugged, his gaze clear as he looked at her. “No need to be. I don’t remember any of them. I’m oonat-born, only sired because my father needed an heir.”

He stood, lifting the first aid kit and putting it away in the compartment he’d taken it from. The movement gave her a front row seat to his abs flexing and bunching as he moved, and she bit back a little moan. His Earth-style pants rode low on his hips, revealing the v-things ripped guys had at the sides and the hint of a trail of hair that led downward. Screw being kidnapped and claimed. She wanted to do some claiming of her own…

But his words brought her attention back to the present and stopped her making an idiot of herself. “Oonat-born? What does that mean?”

He closed the compartment and busied himself checking Lizzie again. Jac almost thought he wasn’t going to answer her, but then he spoke, his voice calm and level but without the warmth it had held previously.

“The Lathar have no women. They were all killed in a genetic plague years ago,” he explained. “Since then we have used another race, the oonat, as gestational carriers.”

“Okay…” Something was wrong here. She could sense it. “So you’re half Lathar and half, what did you call them? Oonat?”

“No!” He turned, and she caught the edge of anger and frustration in his eyes before he blanked his expression. “Oonat are a passive race, akin to your bovines… your cows. They’re not the same level of intelligence as humans or Lathar, but with genetic manipulation they are capable of bearing Lathar offspring. All the oonat born are a hundred percent Lathar.”

“Got it.” Shit, she really had hit a trigger there. Deeming it wise not to push, she smiled and reached up to the goop over the cut on her temple. “Thank you. It feels much better now.”

“No problem.” He still didn’t smile but seemed less angry than he had been a moment ago. A good sign. Then he sighed and allowed a small smile. “What sort of host would I be if I allowed my guest to remain injured?”

“Am I?” she asked, suddenly standing in front of him to look up into his face.

He paused, barely touching her, but she could feel the heat of his half-naked body beating at hers even through her clothes.

He’d gone still. Careful. She could feel the power coiled in his bigger body, just ready to be unleashed. “Are you what?” he asked, his voice little more than a rumble between them.

“Your guest?” She couldn’t help the worried note that crept into her voice. She needed something… reassurance… confirmation…. She wasn’t sure what. “You said you weren’t taking me back. That sounds more like a prisoner to me.”

Heat flared in his eyes for a moment, and a darkness flowed across the back of the blue, rendering them in shades of midnight. He leaned down, bringing his lips level with her ear.

“Be very grateful you’re not my prisoner. I doubt you’d like it much.”