Captive (25 page)
“I’d choose option one.”
“How about option three?” She threw the weapons over his head.
When he turned to get them, he heard “Mush” followed by the crack of leather. He left the weapons, pivoted around, and jumped on the side of the umiak grabbing the reins. “Whoa!” He jerked them back. The wolves stopped before they had a chance to move the sleigh.
Addy hit him with one hand and tried gaining control of the reins with the other. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Commandeering your vessel.”
“What are you, an ice pirate?”
“I’m a survivor.”
“Let go.” She hit him again. “I traded for this.”
“I traded for something, too, and look how that turned out.”
She stopped, gripped the reins in both hands and eyed him up and down, no doubt taking in the slashed gladiator suit and freeze-dried blood. She glanced over his shoulder in the direction of his weapons. Her gaze dropped.
Ah hell, he didn’t want her guilt.
“I know I should thank you for giving up your only protection for my safety, but you’ve got to understand something.” Her eyes met his. “I am going to the wildlife refuge, and you can’t stop me.”
Though she was dead wrong about that, Max couldn’t help but smile inwardly at her fighting spirit. “Well, that makes two of us.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, each with a tight grip on the reins. Neither one backing down. She might be strong for a pregnant woman, but her grip wouldn’t last. Of course, he was tired from trekking all night, and injured and hanging over the side of a boat by an armpit. He wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer, either.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she said. “I’ll share the umiak and sled if you promise, first, not to ditch me, and second, to fully disclose your game plans.”
“Or I could tie you up, gag you, and take the vessel.” What was her point? She knew he could do whatever he damn well wanted. Why make up an agreement as if she had any choice on the matter?
“Do I have your word on the deal or not?”
“Hell, woman,” he said with disgust. “What’s an animal’s word worth to you?”
“I’m not talking to an animal, Max. I’m talking to a man.”
* * *
She had called him a man two days ago and he’d nearly killed her. Would he finish the job now?
Staring with narrowed eyes, Max scrutinized her as though he could see her soul. His expression changed, and for the first time she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Would he agree or take the boat?
She waited, refusing neither to look away nor speak first. The silence grew past uncomfortable.
The hard angles of his face softened. The tension lines disappeared. She recognized this as his physical transformation into Max the man. He released the reins to touch his fingertips to his lips. “I give you my word.” He placed his hand, heavy and warm, on her chest. “I’ll see you to the wildlife refuge.”
The tension in her body ebbed. She covered his hand with hers. “In that case, get your weapons. Permission to board is granted. There’s a little food in the sack behind me and first aid supplies in the Tupperware bowl inside my backpack.”
He retrieved his weapons and climbed in. “Do you know where you’re headed?”
“Mush.” She slapped the reins. “Yakone said I didn’t need to know. The wolves do. They will pull the sleigh as far as the ice breakups. Then I unhook the umiak from the sled, feed the wolves and command them to go home with the sled.
“Did he tell you anything else?”
“Like what?”
“Like what to do at the ice breakups?”
Holding the reins loose in her hands, she turned to face him. “No. I figured I’d slide the boat into the water.”
Max cracked an I-know-something-you-don’t smirk before digging into the food sack.
“What?”
“He must really have wanted whatever it was you traded. Probably figured you wouldn’t have made the deal if you knew.” He pulled out two of her favorite Hyborean root vegetables, offered one to her. She shook her head no, so he put one back.
“Knew what? Remember what I said, Max. Full disclosure.”
“That you’d have to portage the umiak.”
“How far?”
“A few miles. But it’s not the weight of the umiak or the distance that makes it risky. It’s the ice cracking beneath your feet.” His teeth crunched into the vegetable.
How could Yakone forget to mention something as important as cracking ice? Or had she not understood all of Ahnah’s translations? Or maybe Max was right. Maybe Yakone did care more about the trade than her safety. “Why are men such intergalactic jerks?”
He patted her knee. “It’s easy to be a target when you don’t understand the planet.”
“Well, Mr. I-know-everything-about-this-planet-so-keep-your-Earth-ideals-to-yourself, too bad you didn’t know what to trade for an umiak and sleigh. Hmm?”
That erased the smugness from his face. He unzipped his backpack and rummaged through it until he found thermal cream and medicine. “Are you going to enlighten me?”
“I gave Yakone instructions on how to make moonshine.”
He shot her a sideways glance that was the equivenet to asking
What the hell are you talking about?
“It was a pocket guide to moonshine, actually.”
“Let me get this straight. He gave you a sled and umiak, a team of wolves, a sack of food, and pelts”—he pointed to the other end of the boat, where animal pelts were piled thick—“and you gave him the
Pocket Guide to Moonshine
?”
“Yes. And he didn’t even care that it had a faint smell of garbage.” She couldn’t stop the smile from creeping up her face. “Too bad you didn’t know paper artifacts from Earth are valuable.”
“How was I supposed to know that? I’m a gladiator. My interaction with people is limited to mating and fighting. If I knew paper had more trading power than weapons, I would have stolen Duncan’s books instead of his firearm.”
“You mean you stole the gun for trading all along?”
“Hell yeah. I’ve never shot a gun before.”
“You’re a gladiator. You’ve fought with swords and knives and crossbows, but you’ve never fired a gun?”
He didn’t look at her when he shook his head no. He was trying to slather antiseptic ointment on his back. Should she offer to help?
“Didn’t even know the make until Lucky said it.”
“Even I knew it was a .38 special.” She slapped her forehead with the heel of her gloved hand. “You know what your problem is? Communication. Maybe if you talked a little more, we could’ve helped each other out. I know how to shoot.”
“So what. We only had three bullets.”
“That’s not the point. Whether we like it or not, you and I are playing on the same team. If we don’t help each other, we lose.”
He capped the ointment and the thermal cream, stuck both tubes in the backpack before zipping it up. Sad, serious eyes turned her way. “I’ve never been much of a team player.”
“Neither have I, but three lives depend on us being fast learners.”
“In that case—” He held out his hand for the reins.
Before surrendering them, she raised her eyebrows in expectation.
“The plan is to head for the Southwest Passage. The wolves will eventually make it to the ice breakups on their own, but if I drive them, we’ll get there faster. Maybe under ten days.”
Addy nodded her thanks and handed over the reins. “What about Hyboreans?”
“All the country south of the incinerator plant and to the passage is Tuniit land. We’re safe as long as we don’t run into poachers—.”
She scanned the land expecting to see evil Hyboreans hiding behind snow-covered foothills. Everything was barren as a frozen desert. Thank goodness.
“—or polar bears, or smilodons, or don't capsize when the ice breaks beneath us, or—”
Okay, so maybe Max’s full disclosure wasn’t proving to be such a good idea. Hopefully, having him for a teammate was.
A
glowing, yellow ball descended down a path in the Ice Mountain. Regan headed for it. As he neared the lantern’s light, he made out the form of a broad-shouldered man cradling a woman in his arms.
Max?
Adrenaline pumped through him.
He needed to get a closer look at the man beneath the thick, fur clothing.
Concealed by darkness, Regan retrieved the stolen knife from his boot, and quietly followed the man to a small icehouse.
The man’s labored breaths would no doubt cover any sounds of Regan’s footsteps. He melted into the shadows of the house, watched and waited.
The man carried the woman into the room to the left, laid her on a bed of pelts, and took off her coat. From this angle, Regan could only see her legs and swollen belly.
A rush awakened his groin.
Then the man moved and disappointment hit him. It wasn’t his broodmare or his rival.
Hiding the knife low behind his thigh, Regan stepped at an angle into the lantern light, making his presence known.
The man started, and jabbered in some language he couldn’t understand. Was the guy stupid? His tone didn’t even sound angry. In fact, he was probably asking,
Can I help you?
This confirmed Regan’s opinion. Peaceful people were fools.
“I’m looking for a gladiator and a broodmare who escaped from HuBReC a little over a week ago.”
The man cocked his head and squinted.
Idiot.
Regan spoke slower and louder. “I’m...looking...for...a...gladiator...and...a—”
“Yakone?” The woman in bed sat up.
Her hair—long, black, and disheveled—fell about her round face and swept down over ripe, heavy tits. Regan licked his bottom lip. “Hello, pet.”
Eyes widening, she pulled a fur pelt over her.
“You speak English?”
She nodded. “Y-Yes.”
He knew by her tentative answer and staring gaze that she already feared him. Why? He didn’t give her any reason. Yet. “Both of you?” He eyed the man suspiciously.
“Yakone no speak English.”
“Do you know the humans I’m looking for?”
The man said something to her in the native language and she answered. He started to say something else, but she held up her hand to silence him and then turned to Regan and shook her head.
The man spoke again.
“Who is this guy?” Regan asked. “Your father?”
“Yakone is husband.”
“Perhaps you should listen to your husband and tell me where my humans are.”
The husband’s voice turned deeper and stern as he again spoke gibberish.
“Shut up, I can’t understand you.”
“Yakone say he want stranger to leave.”
“I’ll leave after I get what I came for.”
“Ahnah don’t know who people are.” Her gaze shifted from him to a small table before going to the floor.
“You lie.” He reached for the only thing on the table other than a brush and hair combs. He thumbed the edge of the pocket-sized book. “Where is she?”
The lying bitch wrung her hands. It wouldn’t be long before she cracked.
Seeing his wife’s distress, dear husband moved toward Regan speaking in a stern tone, no doubt telling him to get out.
Regan revealed his knife, stopping the man in his tracks, and threw the book at the girl. “Where is my broodmare?”
Tears rolled down her face. “Ahnah don’t know. Go away.”
Regan grabbed the husband, pinned the man’s back against him, keeping him there by the knife blade pressed against his carotid artery. Any movement and the guy would slit his own throat. “So where did that
Pocket Guide to Moonshine
come from?”
Regan drew the knife, cutting the man in warning. He gasped and pleaded something to the woman, but Regan couldn’t be sure if he coached her to talk or to remain silent.
“Is their location worth me killing your husband?”
“Please.” She sobbed. “No hurt Yakone. He good man. I tell you. Put knife down. I tell you.”
“First you’ll tell me, then I’ll drop the knife.” But it was too late for that. The glorious scent of blood, and the power rush from holding life or death in his grip already brought him into the killing zone. Blood coursing and hormones raging, he knew he’d slit the man’s throat and fuck the woman.
“Max left one night ago on foot.” She wiped her tears. “Addy left today. Eat supper then take umiak sleigh.”
“Where are they going?”
“Southland. To Pele.”
“That’s more like it.” Regan drew the knife across the husband’s throat. The man dropped to the floor choking on his blood.
“Yakone!”
It was all she could scream before he jumped her, his tongue in her mouth.
U
sing pelts and her survival skills, Addy covered the back half of the umiak with a makeshift tent long enough to lie inside. Now they could sleep out of the harsh wind and bitter cold. She placed the last pelt on the floor for insulation, double-checked her handiwork and, satisfied, sat at the tent’s door flap watching Max drive the team.
The skin showing through his ripped gladiator suit had turned a blue-gray hue around his lacerations. What if she hadn’t come upon him out there? Or what if she had gotten to him too late? Chills shot up her spine. Best not to think about what-ifs.
Max hadn’t moved from the driver’s seat since she’d started on the tent hours ago. He drove the wolves hard as if something chased them. A smilidon? Or perhaps Ferly Mor.
From the moment Max had learned about her prenatal shots, he’d feared the alien had started his search. He had expected a longer head start, but because of her he hadn’t gotten it. As much as she wanted to, she really couldn’t blame him for leaving her behind. After all, he’d warned her of that possibility before she ever left the Hyborean’s apartment.
Max probably thought once Ferly Mor had found her, he would give up the search. Or if he didn’t give up, at least Max could travel faster without a pregnant chick stopping every hour to pee. Either way, taking her out of the equation meant Max had a greater chance of freedom.
Now, after promising to be teammates, her capture equaled his capture, and so he pushed the wolves to their limits.
Addy took a pelt off the floor and wrapped it around him, hoping it wasn’t too late to prevent frostbite. “You should put more thermal cream on your exposed skin.”
