The Krinar Eclipse, page 16
part #0 of Krinar World Series
Harper smiled and waved at Jessie as they shared an amused shrug at the men talking football stats. She and Jessie were close in age, and she usually spent her free weekends hanging out with Jessie.
A lot had changed since the Krinar had arrived. They had shut down production of beef and poultry, for one thing. Enforced veganism, most people called it, and she had to admit, of all the jackbooted declarations she had expected to come down the pipe from their new overlords, that was pretty damn close to the bottom of the list.
But it had hit the Midwest hard. Many cities became ghost towns, and people had moved away and sold their grazing fields, which were unsuitable for crops and were now empty and valueless. It was why so much resistance had formed here against the Krinar. Mason and Liam had mobilized their friends who’d lost work when their homes had been sucked into the economic black hole the Krinar invasion had created. And their friends had brought other friends, and so on.
All because those damn aliens didn’t eat meat.
If I ever meet one of them, I’ll shove a cheeseburger right down their throat. The rebellious thought made her smile widen. Having to eat the plant-based protein burger patties made her gag.
“How’s it going?” she asked her friend as she joined her at the bar.
Jessie laughed, her dark-brown eyes bright with her natural joy. “Busy as hell, and Katie’s got the flu. You mind taking orders from those tables in the corner?” Jessie reached across the bar, where she placed a new drinks order ticket for their bartender, Neil, who was busy mixing.
“Sure.” Harper gave Neil a nod, and he flexed his tattooed arms as he shook the martini mixer. The wall behind him was covered with a hundred bottles of decent liquor, as well as some more expensive scotch and brandy. People came from miles around to King’s Bar—students, farmers, blue-collar workers, and even some upper-middle-class folk. Her parents had left a legacy of openness and welcoming to all. Harper could gripe about a lot of things with regard to her older brothers, but they were great at keeping the bar fun, except on nights they hosted resistance meetings in the back storeroom. Those always made her nervous.
Harper bit her lip and glanced toward the Employees Only sign hanging on the door. The closely spaced letters jumbled about and made her grimace. She’d tried to develop her own shorthand to work with Neil when giving him orders, but it still was a challenge.
“Sure, Jessie. I’ll cover the two tables in the back corner.” She picked up a pen and notepad from the bar, her stomach cramping at the thought of having to write down drink orders.
She reached the first table, where a tall man lounged back in his chair, watching the room. His blue eyes swept to her face as she approached, and Harper’s heart jolted as she felt the full focus of his stormy blue gaze. Damn, the man was fine. More than fine. He had long legs and narrow hips, but he also had those broad shoulders all women loved. His red plaid shirt hung open to reveal a gray T-shirt underneath that clung a little too snug to his skin, which hinted at a hard chest and chiseled abs.
Wow. Where had this hunk of man meat come from? Harper blushed and stared at her sandals. It was not okay to objectify a guy, right? She was a total feminist—she had to be around her overprotective brothers. But damn if this guy didn’t make her want to wolf-whistle.
Harper finally looked at the man before her again, and that was a mistake. “W-what can I get you?”
His golden-blond hair fell into his eyes, and he casually brushed it back. How could such a simple gesture make her knees buckle? The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the muscles of his forearms. Harper swallowed hard. Damn again—she was having a serious attraction to this complete stranger. Something that was totally not like her. She usually kept to herself these days. She’d dated a lot in the past, sure, but lately she’d been so focused on work she’d lost track.
“I’ll take an India Pale Ale. Whatever kind you recommend. Thanks.” His lips curved in a telltale bad-boy smile that scared her shitless. It was a smile that promised nothing but broken hearts. An IPA, that was easy enough to remember. She lowered her notepad in relief, not bothering to write that order down. She started to head back to the bar to grab his drink, but as she passed by the next table, a man grabbed her arm.
“Not so fast, sweetheart. We need drinks too. We’ve been here ten minutes already.”
Harper gritted her teeth. She didn’t mind being called sweetheart by a boyfriend, but by some tool like this? She eyed the rough-looking man, and his friends all snickered at her open discomfort. She wanted to flip them off, but that wasn’t going to help. She plastered on a reluctant smile and lifted her pad up.
“What can I get you?” And by that I mean, “What can I have Neil spit in?”
The men all started throwing exotic drink orders at her, and she struggled, frantically penning down their orders, but within seconds the panic set in. Her pen froze, and she closed her eyes briefly.
“What’s the matter with you? Why aren’t you writing our orders down?” the first asshole demanded.
“I am!” she snapped. “I just need a minute. I” She turned again to list the drinks, but she couldn’t correctly spell some of the more complicated orders, and then it was too late. The letters began to almost quiver on the page, and she suddenly couldn’t decipher her own writing.
“You stupid or something?” one of the men asked her. His companions broke out into more laughter.
Harper grabbed the nearest water glass and threw its contents into the face of the man who’d called her stupid. He surged to his feet and backhanded her so fast she never saw the blow coming.
Pain ripped through her and she stumbled back, clutching her face in shock. A hush settled over the crowd, and Harper shot a glare at the man. She wasn’t afraid to throw a punch, but she was outnumbered. And with her luck, she’d break her hand on his jaw.
“You have a problem?” the man who’d struck her now snapped at her.
“Out! I want you and your asshole buddies out of here!” Harper yelled. While this wasn’t technically her bar, she felt like a part owner of it, the same way her brothers felt about her garage. And like the sign over the bar said, “We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone who’s an asshole.”
“Oh yeah?” The man spread his arms out wide, noting the lack of security coming to restrain him. Normally Neil would have been right there, kicking this guy’s ass, but he’d broken his leg last week on his motorcycle and was stuck on crutches behind the bar. “Who’s gonna make me?”
“Pardon me,” a deep masculine voice said right behind her as two large hands settled on her waist. She was lifted up and set aside by the gorgeous blond Adonis from the other table.
“I believe the lady asked you to leave. And your asshole buddies.”
The asshole and his friends all stood. Six to one—those weren’t good odds. “Is that so?”
“That’s so.”
“Hey, you really don’t need to” Harper touched the Adonis’s rock-hard shoulder.
The Adonis swung a fist fast, almost too fast to see. It connected with the asshole’s jaw, and he stumbled back, knocking over three chairs, and his head collided with the wall in a heavy thunk. He didn’t stir. One of his friends knelt down to check his pulse.
“Chase is out cold,” the other man said. They all turned to face the Adonis again.
“I suggest you get out. Now. And take your trash with you,” Adonis growled in a tone that sent shivers of dread through Harper. She’d seen plenty of men try to fake being a badass over the years, but this guy wasn’t faking. He was dangerous. Really dangerous. And he’d just saved her ass.
The group of jerks rushed out of the bar, only two of them stopping to lift Chase up and carry him out. Neil followed them to the door on his crutches, scowling the entire way. Adonis watched them go, his arms crossed. Once they were gone, the conversations in the bar went back to normal, and the stares of curious bargoers eventually drifted away from them.
“Are you all right?” The man cupped her chin as he tilted her face toward his, checking where she’d been struck. A flare of warmth seeped from his palm into her skin, and she tried not to shiver at the feminine awareness of him that made her shyly try to step away.
“He got me pretty good, but I’ll be okay.” She needed to escape the heat of his gentle touch. The man was gorgeous, but in a purely masculine way. A blush spread over her face, and her right cheek throbbed hotly with the added rush of blood.
“You’ll need to ice your cheek, or it’s going to swell and bruise. Come.” He caught her hand and started pulling her along behind him toward the bar. Too stunned to object, she followed along.
“Oh my God, Harper!” Jessie met them at the bar, along with Neil. “Should I get Mason and Liam?”
Jessie’s gaze darted to Adonis, and she choked down whatever else she might have said next. She just blinked in a dazed way that Harper completely understood. This man was just the kind of perfect male specimen that would leave any girl gobsmacked.
“I’m okay, Jessie. Mr.…er…what’s your name?” Harper asked.
“Seth Jackson. Call me Seth.” His stormy blue eyes were still filled with concern.
“Thank you, Seth. Why don’t you go back to your table, and I’ll get your…IPA, wasn’t it? On the house.”
“Thank you. But first I want to make sure you are all right.” His lips slid into a slow smile that only intensified her blush. Seth looked toward Jessie. “Can you get me some ice, please?”
“Yeah, sure, hang on.” Jessie retrieved the ice and a towel and handed them to Seth.
“Sit,” he ordered. Harper found herself gently but firmly planted on a barstool. He wrapped the bagged ice in the towel and put it to her bruised cheek. She reached up, expecting him to let her take over, but their hands touched when she tried to hold the ice up. An electric pulse jumped between them, and her body seemed to hum inside from the connection.
Wow. She was turned on just being close to him. The ice had already started to soak the towel and drip down her arm and his. She was captivated by him and the way his gaze seemed to swallow her up, leaving her mind free of thoughts and instead focused only on sensations.
“Thanks. I think I’ve got it now,” she managed to say, embarrassed by how breathless she sounded.
“Okay, but I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on you. You might have a concussion.” He held out his hand. “Let me take your pad. I can get orders for you.”
“No!” she almost yelped. She did not want him to see her hastily scribbled and disjointed words. “I mean, thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
“Harper, he’s right, I shouldn’t have asked you to take orders. Not with your”
“Jessie!” She cut her friend off. She didn’t like people knowing about her dyslexia. It was a common enough condition, but there were always people who didn’t understand and who gave her funny looks or treated her differently when they found out. She did not want Seth to look at her like that.
Because I’m not broken, dammit.
She had to remind herself of that. Having severe dyslexia did not mean that she was damaged or not smart. Quite the opposite. People with dyslexia actually absorbed too much information at once, and while that made reading difficult, it did enhance her awareness of more details than the average person, especially visually. It made her one heck of a mechanic. She could rebuild practically anything mechanical from scratch, all by instinct.
“Seriously, go, I’m fine. I’ll bring you your drink in a moment.” She tried to wave him off, but Seth just grinned.
“You’re bossy, but cute as a button. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Keep your butt in that chair.” He held out a hand to Jessie. “Give me a pad and tell me which tables need orders.”
Jessie gave Harper an apologetic look as she gave a spare pad and pen to Seth.
“Just three tables near the door. We should be good unless someone waves you over.”
“Got it.” Seth headed over to a table, his back to Harper as he talked to the men and women there.
“Damn, that ass is tight enough to bounce a quarter off of.” Jessie giggled and nudged Harper, who was staring at it too. He filled out those blue jeans nicely.
“You need to hit that tonight,” Jessie said as she loaded a tray with a couple of margaritas.
Harper rolled her eyes and adjusted the bag of ice against her cheek. Her fingers were a little chilly but not frozen.
“I’m not tapping anything,” she muttered. “Not tonight, anyway.”
“Pity. He looks like he wants to eat you up…or eat you out.” Jessie was giggling again.
“Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Girl, it never left.” Jessie’s brown eyes twinkled before she trotted off to deliver the margaritas to a waiting table.
Harper watched Seth take more orders, and she sighed. God, she would love to sleep with a guy like that, but she was done with the whole dating-sexy-guys thing. It didn’t end well. Her last boyfriend, Xander, had been too cute for his own good, and he knew it. Eventually his hands had wandered off, and the rest of him had followed. Harper had gone home to their shared apartment the night of their one-year anniversary and spent two hours baking and cooking for their dinner. By ten p.m. she’d finally blown out the candles, removed her black high heels and her sexy little red dress, and put the food in the fridge. It had been obvious he’d forgotten and wasn’t coming.
She’d crawled into bed and cried so much she’d smeared mascara all over her pillowcase. The next morning, she’d called him and he’d apologized, and then she’d heard the other woman’s voice in the background asking who it was.
She’d never trusted any good-looking man after that, and if she was being truly honest, she didn’t trust any man fully after that. It wasn’t in her nature to leave herself so vulnerable, but Xander had made her want to trust him, and their chemistry had been so good that she’d let her hormones make all the decisions.
Still, she wasn’t opposed to dating or even casual sex with nice, normal guys. But a man like Seth? No. He was trouble. She was done with guys like him for sure. They were too easy to fall for, and she was done with being a sucker for a good-looking guy. Seth was trouble, and she was going to stay the hell away from him.
Chapter 2
The mission was in jeopardy.
Sef was supposed to be keeping a low profile, posing as “Seth,” a human male ready to join the resistance that the King brothers, Mason and Liam, were running out of the back of the bar. Instead, he was taking drink orders after having almost killed a human who’d struck their sister, Harper, the curvy little human with sweet eyes and a scent that made him want to growl with longing. He was lucky he had pulled his punch; otherwise, he would’ve crushed the man’s jaw and possibly killed the bastard. Though he probably deserved it, that would have created even more complications for the mission.
Focus on being calm. She’s okay. The idiots are gone. She’s safe.
If there was one thing he hated, it was violence toward a female. From the moment Harper King had walked up to his table, he’d caught her sweet feminine scent untarnished by heavy perfumes and had gotten hard fast. She was definitely his type. Small, curvy, and feisty. But she was off-limits.
Normally when he saw a female he wanted, he would seduce her, with her willing cooperation, and then fuck her for a week straight until he’d gotten her out of his system. But if he did that with Harper, it risked his ability to earn the trust of her brothers. For now he would have to play the gentleman, to use a phrase he’d picked up recently. But damned if the little female didn’t tempt him almost beyond reason and control.
As a Krinar male, he could claim her as a charl, which was the Krinar term for a human companion, but he had never taken a charl. It was too lasting, too intimate of a relationship. He was eight thousand years old, and while he’d had hundreds of lovers over the years, he had never chosen to be a cheren to any of them. He wasn’t so foolish and impulsive as his twin brother, Soren. Taking a charl would be permanent. Any human taken as a charl would be given nanocytes, which would extend their lives indefinitely at peak age and peak condition, keeping them forever young. Sef had never considered any female he’d met to be someone he would share forever with, but Harper King was making his mind and desires stray into dangerous territory.
How had this human so suddenly captivated him? Perhaps he was getting soft spending so much time on Earth. Or maybe it was the fact that Soren had recently taken a human charl, and through their shared bond he was sensing such feelings of contentment that it made him long for a charl of his own.
If that was the case, he was going to punch his brother the next time he saw him. Such feelings of desire, sentimentality, and intimacy were harmful to his mission.
He zoned out, writing down drink orders and waiting patiently for the humans to finish ordering. Then he walked back to the bar and slipped the bartender the order.
“Thanks, man. We appreciate the help tonight. I’m Neil.” The bartender held out his hand over the polished walnut counter.
Sef slapped his palm into the other man’s. He seemed strong, for a human. “Seth Jackson. Happy to help.”
“Thanks for saving the kid. Harper’s sweet. If I’d been closer and not dragged down with these damn crutches, I would’ve done exactly what you did and thrown out that trash.”
Sef nodded and smiled, but a flicker of a strange emotion shot through him as Neil called Harper sweet. For one split second he imagined punching Neil and breaking his jaw.
Was he jealous? Over a human female? If Soren ever found out, he would never live it down. Soren was the Krinar ambassador to Earth, and he had recently done a very human thing and gotten engaged to the American president’s daughter, Bianca Wells.
