The Krinar Captive

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Emily waited for Zaron to return, her foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

After he left, she’d gone to that same wall and touched it, trying to figure out how it worked. Surely there had to be a sliding mechanism of some sort, and the wall only looked like it was dissolving.

To her disappointment, she hadn’t found anything, although she did learn that the wall had a strange texture. It felt warm under her fingertips—warm and smooth, almost like a living thing. She had entertained herself for a minute by stroking it, but then she got tired of that activity and sat down on the bed to wait for the strange not-exactly-doctor to return.

For the first time in her adult life, Emily had no idea what to do. She was always the calm, resourceful one—the one who could tackle any problem in an orderly, analytical manner and arrive at a workable solution. This situation, however, was not something she’d ever encountered. She had no idea where she was or how she’d gotten there, or even how she was alive. Everything about this felt surreal, from the exotically beautiful man with his foreign-sounding name to the room that reminded her of something out of science fiction.

Could this be some secret government research facility after all? Zaron had denied it, but then again, what incentive would he have to tell the truth? This whole place—whatever it was—might be classified, and he could potentially get in trouble for telling her anything.

The fact that she was entertaining conspiracy theories about secret government labs amused Emily on some level. She had always been a rational, common-sense person, not someone given to flights of fancy. Even as a child, she’d never believed in Santa Claus or things that go bump in the night; those possibilities had never seemed logical to her—any more than secret government labs in Costa Rica seemed now.

But what was the alternative? The question gnawed at Emily, adding to her impatience. She couldn’t think of anything that would explain her current situation—other than her mind making up the entire event. Could that be it? Was it possible she’d hit her head and was lying in a hospital with a brain injury?

Before she could pursue that train of thought, the wall opened again and Zaron entered the room, moving with the same strange, flowing grace she’d noticed before.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her a pale pink dress and a pair of white sandals. “You can get dressed if you wish.”

“Um, thanks,” Emily said uncertainly, taking the items from him. “Is there a restroom I could use?”

“Of course.” He crossed the room, heading to the opposite wall. “Come, let me show you.”

Emily followed him, wondering where the restroom could be hiding. As she got close to the wall, it dissolved again, creating an entryway into a small room. Zaron stepped in, motioning for her to join him.

“That’s the toilet,” he said, pointing toward a white cylindrical object in the corner when she came into the room. “You just sit on it, and it’ll take care of you. Then you can refresh yourself near that other corner.” He gestured toward a small sink-like protrusion. “If you need a shower later, I can show you how to operate it as well.”

Emily felt her face grow warm. “Okay, thanks. I should be able to take it from here. Can you please step out again? I just need a minute.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile. “Sure,” he said, and with one smooth motion, he was gone, leaving Emily alone again.

As soon as the wall closed, she dropped the blanket on the floor and pulled on the dress the man had provided. It was a sundress with thin straps. To Emily’s surprise, it fit her perfectly, gently hugging every curve of her body. Even her breasts felt comfortably supported by the thin yet sturdy lining in the bodice. The material was again something unusual. The texture was that of fleece, but with the lightweight feel of cotton. The sandals also fit her well; it was as though they’d been custom-made for her feet. There was no underwear, but Emily decided not to quibble about that for now. Just having some clothes was already a big improvement.

Next, she turned her attention to the strange toilet. It was an upright hollow cylinder with rounded edges. There was no water inside, nor was there any visible flushing mechanism attached. Zaron had said she was just supposed to sit on it. Emily hesitated for a minute, thinking it over, then hiked up the skirt of the dress and plopped down on the cylinder with a mental shrug.

A girl had to pee when she had to pee.

When she was done, she felt a warm breeze moving over her exposed flesh. Her skin tingled for a second, and Emily gasped, jumping off the cylinder. The tingling immediately faded. When she peeked back at the cylinder, she saw that it was spotless, as perfectly clean as it had been in the beginning. At the same time, she realized that she also felt clean and dry, even though she hadn’t used any toilet paper—another thing that was missing in this strange bathroom.

Frowning in confusion, Emily walked over to the sink-like object in the other corner. There were no faucets or buttons, so she just waved her hands at it, hoping it had motion sensors. Almost immediately, a warm stream of liquid came out, covering her hands with a pleasantly scented substance that vaguely resembled soap. Before Emily could rub her palms together, the substance evaporated, leaving her hands clean and dry.

A fancy hand sanitizer. Nice.

All pressing matters taken care of, Emily walked over to the wall where the entryway had been. At her approach, the entryway appeared again, as though it had sensed her coming.

“Right, okay,” she muttered, stepping through the opening before it had a chance to close again. As soon as she entered the bedroom, the doorway to the bathroom disappeared.

Emily stared at it for a few seconds, then shook her head. She needed to talk to Zaron and get some answers soon. This was ridiculous.

Spotting a movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned and saw that the entryway leading out of the room had appeared again. Zaron was standing on the other side of it.

“Come,” he said, motioning for her to step through the opening. “I’d like you to join me for lunch.”

“Okay, sure.” Emily cautiously stepped out, this time looking at the sides of the wall to see if she could figure out the way it operated. To her disappointment, there was no visible mechanism here either. The edges of the opening were smooth and polished, with no grooves or ridges to indicate any kind of sliding doors.

As soon as she was on the other side, the wall re-formed again, solidifying right in front of Emily’s eyes.

Unbelievable.

Turning toward Zaron, Emily glared at him in frustration. “How does this thing work?” she demanded, tapping at the wall. “What kind of material is that?”

Zaron looked at her calmly. “I could tell you its name, but it wouldn’t mean anything to you. As to how it works, I’m not a designer, and I wouldn’t be able to give you a good explanation.”

Not a designer? What did he mean by that? “Well, what are you then?”

A hint of a smile appeared on his gorgeous lips. “I’m what you would call a biologist, with an extra specialization in edaphology. I study all manner of living creatures as well as the soil that nourishes them.”

Emily blinked. “I see.” So he was a researcher of some kind. “And is this your lab?”

“No.” He shook his head. “This is my temporary home.”

Home? Emily looked around the room with disbelief. Like the bedroom she’d just left, everything around her was decorated in shades of ivory and cream, with a soft light coming from some indeterminate source. There were no windows or doors, and the furniture was again minimal. Other than a long white plank in the middle that resembled a flat bench and some blooming plants in the corners, the room was essentially empty.

Frowning, Emily took a step toward the bench-like plank. She was pretty sure her eyes were deceiving her because— “Is that thing hovering in the air?” she asked incredulously, kneeling down to peer underneath the plank. “Is it held up by some kind of magnets?”

“Of course not,” Zaron said, walking over to stand next to her. “It’s utilizing force-field technology.”

Still kneeling on all fours, Emily looked up at him. Looming over her, he looked even bigger—and powerfully male. An unwelcome tendril of fear slid down her spine again. “Force-field technology?” she repeated slowly, feeling like she’d fallen down a sci-fi rabbit hole. “What are you talking about?”

He watched her with a cool, dark gaze. “Why don’t we eat something and I’ll explain,” he suggested gently. His tone was soft, but Emily could hear the steel underneath. He had no intention of answering her questions right now.

“All right,” she said warily, starting to rise to her feet. “I just—” And then she almost gasped because his hand was on her elbow, helping her get up. His touch was light, solicitous, but there was something possessive in his grip, in the way his fingers lingered on her arm for an extra couple of seconds before letting go.

Her heart jumping into her throat, Emily took a step back, staring at him. As illogical as it was, she felt branded by his touch, her skin tingling where he had touched her. He was looking at her too, his eyes gleaming with some strange emotion. For the first time, Emily noticed that his irises were not dark brown as she’d initially thought—they were black.

Feeling completely off-balance, Emily did what she had always done during difficult times in her life.

She put on her cheerful mask.

“Okay,” she said brightly. “Let’s eat and chat.”

Amused by the girl’s sudden enthusiasm for the meal, Zaron led her to the kitchen.

He was glad he’d had the opportunity to touch her in a casual, non-s****l manner. It was important to get her accustomed to his touch. In many ways, seducing Emily would be like domesticating a wild creature. He needed to approach her slowly and gain her trust. She needed to believe he wouldn’t hurt her; otherwise, she would panic at the first hint of s****l intent on his part.

The good thing was that she was aware of him. It was the primitive female awareness of a healthy, attractive male. She might’ve been startled by his touch, but she had also been subtly aroused. It had been there in the slight dilation of her pupils and the rapid increase of her heartbeat. Her feminine scent had strengthened, too. If Zaron had touched the delicate folds between her thighs, he would’ve undoubtedly found her warm and slick, her body instinctively preparing itself for the mating act.

His people had discovered their s****l compatibility with Homo sapiens a long time ago. Although their species’ DNA was different enough that no interbreeding was possible, the efforts of the Elders had ensured that humans would be quite similar to the Krinar in terms of their outward appearance and body structure. Nobody knew why the Elders had chosen to do it that way, but the end result was a species that many Krinar found quite desirable as bed partners—especially given the aphrodisiac qualities of human blood.

And this particular human was more desirable than most, Zaron thought, watching as Emily stared in wide-eyed shock at the table and chairs in the kitchen. Like the couch in the living room, they were held in place by a force field of sorts, giving the impression that they were hovering in the air. To a typical twenty-first-century human, such technology had to seem rather magical—although most humans were now enlightened enough not to attribute everything to the supernatural.

Zaron was still debating how much he should tell the girl. Over the past two days, while he’d been taking care of her, he had thought about the possibility of revealing nothing—of pretending to be human. He had even considered taking her back to the bridge and leaving her there before she regained consciousness. Let her attribute her survival to a miracle or her fall to a dream, whatever was easier for her mind to accept. He had hesitated, however, his growing lust for her battling with his desire to avoid a potentially tricky situation—and then she had woken up, a couple of hours earlier than he’d expected.

Now he had a wary, confused human on his hands—a human who was regarding him with a frustrated look in her clear aquamarine eyes.

“Let me guess,” she said, waving toward the table. “More force-field technology?”

Zaron’s amusement deepened at the thinly veiled sarcasm in the girl’s question. “Yes, exactly,” he said, walking over to sit down on one of the floating chairs. The intelligent material immediately adjusted itself to his body, assessing his posture in order to provide the most comfortable sitting experience possible.

“You want me to sit on that?” Her voice rose. “On a board that floats in thin air?”

“You won’t fall, I promise,” Zaron said, stifling his urge to smile as the girl approached the table with all the enthusiasm of someone about to be tried for murder. “It’s quite nice, in fact.”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, cautiously lowering herself onto the seat. Then her eyes widened. She must’ve felt the chair moving as it adjusted to her. Within seconds, she was sitting with her back fully supported, looking quite shocked.

This time Zaron couldn’t suppress a chuckle. He hadn’t expected to be enjoying this part, but he was. Introducing this little human to his world might be pleasurable in more ways than one, he thought, watching as she twisted around trying to see the back of her chair. Of course, the intelligent chair twisted with her, the back disappearing just as Emily tried to study it.

When she turned back to face him, the look on her face was indescribable. “Seriously, what is this stuff?” she demanded, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “Where am I?”

Zaron laughed softly. “You’re in my house, Emily,” he said, patiently repeating the information he’d already given her. “And this stuff is my furniture.”

“What kind of furniture does that? The thing moved. It disappeared on me.”

“Yes, it did,” Zaron agreed. “It’s designed to shape itself to your body in order to provide the most comfort. When you turned around, it was no longer comfortable for you, so it adjusted itself.”

“Right, of course.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she rubbed her temples with a pained expression on her face.

Immediately concerned, Zaron reached across the table and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” Humans were unbelievably frail, their bodies weak and prone to all kinds of maladies that were utterly alien to his people. Headaches, for instance. Zaron had never suffered from one except for a few brief moments after a head injury, but he knew it was a common affliction among Emily’s species.

At his touch, she jerked back, her eyes flying open. “Of course,” she said with that same false brightness. “I’m just peachy.” When Zaron continued looking at her doubtfully, she added, “No, seriously, I’m fine. I’m pretty sure I fell a couple of hundred feet, but I’m totally fine.”

Zaron chose to ignore the last part of her statement. “All right,” he said, leaning back. “But if you do have a headache, let me know. I can fix it for you.”

She drew in a slow, deep breath, drawing his gaze to the soft swell of her breasts. “Fix it how?” she asked, and Zaron forced himself to refocus on her face.

Now wasn’t the time to give in to this attraction.

“Did you heal me before?” she persisted when Zaron didn’t respond right away. “How is it that I’m perfectly okay after falling that far?” Her eyes widened as though some thought had occurred to her. “Wait a minute, what day is it? Was I in a coma or something?”

“No, you weren’t in a coma,” Zaron said, understanding her concern. “Today is Thursday, June 6th.”

“So I was out for two days.”

Zaron nodded. “Yes, precisely.” He was getting hungry, and he was certain the girl had to be, too. Explanations could wait. Switching to Krinar, he swiftly ordered a salad for them.

Emily frowned at him. “What did you just say?”

“I requested some food for us,” Zaron explained. “I’m afraid my house is not programmed to respond to commands in English.”

“Uh-huh.” She was looking at him like he was insane. “But your house is programmed to respond to commands in whatever language that was?”

“The language in question is Krinar,” Zaron said, finally reaching a decision. He could continue keeping the girl in the dark, but that wasn’t really necessary. Given how much she had seen already, he wouldn’t be able to let her go anyway—and she would learn the truth soon enough.

“Krinar?” She looked confused as she repeated the word with a faint American accent. “What part of the world is that?”

“Krinar is the language spoken on Krina,” Zaron said softly, watching Emily’s face. “My home planet.”