In a Fix (15 page)

Cripes. Bomb? Did I really hear that?

I tried to swallow, found I couldn’t, so I spit congealed turkey and bread into a napkin and shoved it between the seats. Geez, these clowns were supposed to be the great restorers of masculinity to Scandinavia?
Hey, guys, real men don’t use bombs!

Damn it all to fucking hell.
I tried really hard not to think about how much trouble I was in. And what if I wasn’t the only one? What about Billy? Had he made it to Gotland safely? Was he on Trey’s trail, or had the Vikings caught him, too? And Mark? Had they gotten him, back at the lake house? Did they shoot him like Pete? Jesus, I could
not
think about this now—I’d go crazy.

I closed my eyes and attempted to focus on something more pleasant, like how when I was out of this mess I was going to treat myself to a pedicure. I don’t even like pedicures. It’s boring as hell to sit there and stare at the top of somebody’s head while they mess with your toenails, but it was better than what I was doing now. Boredom had suddenly become a lot more appealing.

I must have dozed off—a residual effect from the drugs, I suppose—because next thing I knew Nils was shaking my shoulder. “It is time to ready ourselves for landing. If you will come this way?” He indicated the back of the plane.

“Can’t I just buckle my seat belt here?”

“First you must change your clothing.”

“Oh.” I looked from one end of the plane to the other. There didn’t seem to be anyplace that offered a great deal of privacy, other than the lavatory, and that would be a tight fit.

“I will hold up a blanket for you, if you like,” Nils said, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Um, thanks.” I got up and headed to the back. On the last seat was a pile of cloth that looked more like bed linens than clothes. I looked back over my shoulder at Nils and raised my brows. He nodded. I shrugged and reached for the garment, unfurling it as I lifted.

There were two pieces—an ankle-length, ivory-colored dress with a rounded neckline and long sleeves, and a dark brown overtunic made of some roughly spun fabric. Okay, this was weird.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Quite,” Nils answered, and offered no further explanation. He squeezed by me and retrieved a green, fuzzy blanket from the closet where I’d been stowed. Shook it out and held it between me and the male eyes on board.

“Hurry, please,” he said. Now would be a good time to do something, if I could think of a damn thing to do. But even if I could incapacitate Nils, I’d still have the other two to contend with, not to mention the pilot.

I sighed and began shedding my Maria clothing. I left on her granny panties (elasticized, so they wouldn’t fall off) and bra, since they were better than nothing. I did take an extra moment to unhook the bra and tie the back into a secure knot to make it fit a little better. Not perfect, but it was wearable. The ivory dress went on easily enough. The hem grazed the floor and the bodice was a bit snug, but all in all it was a good fit.

I checked to see if Nils was looking; he wasn’t. More “nice” points for him. How many nice points did you have to earn to counterbalance kidnapping someone? Not wanting to push his limits, I hurriedly pulled the brown, sleeveless tunic over my head. It hugged Mina’s curves pretty snugly, but I could breathe.

“Are you finished?” Nils inquired, still polite.

“Yeah, I think so. Unless you have some ancient shoes to complete the ensemble. So, what’s up with this outfit, anyway? Are we going to a costume party?”

He lowered the blanket. “Your own shoes will suffice for now,” he said, ignoring my questions.

Fortunately, Maria’s sensible walking shoes were not a bad fit for Mina, and I’d already proven I could run well enough in them. Not fast enough, obviously, but well enough. It remained to be seen if I could work up any speed in the medieval garb. I’d sure as hell test it out as soon as I got the opportunity.

Per interrupted us, a small, black leather bag in his hand and a smile on his face. That couldn’t be good.

“So, back to my seat?” I said brightly to Nils, deliberately not looking at Per.

Nils shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

Per stopped right behind Nils and opened the bag. He removed a syringe.

My heart walloped the inside of my rib cage. I
hate
needles. I’ve never even had my ears pierced—if I want to wear earrings, I adapt myself lobe holes. “Look, there’s no need—”

Nils took my hand, gently at first, but clamped down when I tried to yank it away. I pulled harder, putting my whole body into it. I lashed out with my free hand. It was captured and held fast. I kicked anything I could reach, but the damned dress rendered the attempts useless.

“Stop screaming. No one can help you here,” Per said.

Funny, I hadn’t even considered that. Nor did I particularly care. I got my mouth as close to Per’s ear as I could. Screeched loud and long. Mainly just noise, but I think I squeezed out an “asshole” and a “dickhead.” Possibly a “motherfucking, boy-buggering, shit-eating douche-nozzle,” too. My mouth was pretty much on autopilot, so it’s hard to say for sure.

My chain of description was unceremoniously interrupted by the back of Per’s hand slamming across my mouth. He didn’t leave it there long enough for me to take a hunk out of it this time, so the only blood I tasted was mine. It made me fight that much harder.

Didn’t do me a lick of good. Using both his arms and one of his legs, Nils immobilized me while Per pushed my sleeve up and jabbed the needle into my arm.

Chapter 14

When I came to again I was on a bed in a tiny, dimly lit room. My head hurt and I had to pee. But at least I wasn’t gagged, and I wasn’t on an airplane. I felt good about that.

There was a wooden dresser against the opposite wall, and a whitewashed nightstand with a quaint oil lamp on it to my left. A simple country bedroom, it appeared. I bounced once to test the mattress. It was comfy enough. If one of my wrists hadn’t been handcuffed to the iron headboard, it might have been a nice place to wake up from a nap.

I didn’t have an old rag stuffed in my mouth, so I supposed the Vikings expected a shout out from me when I woke up. “Hello?” I croaked. Guess I was a little hoarse from all that screaming right before Per jabbed me. I mustered some saliva, swallowed, and tried again. It was a bit louder this time, but still nothing to brag about.

“Is anyone there?”

Cue the crickets.

Suppressing an unreasonable flash of panic at being abandoned by my captors, I assessed my situation. I was still in medieval attire, with no idea why. Judging by the light filtering through the red-checkered curtains of the room’s lone window, it was either dawn or dusk. I’d know in a few minutes, when it either got lighter or darker.

Since I appeared to be alone, I figured no harm could come of taking a look around. I flipped through my mental files for an aura with the smallest hands possible. It would have to be Molly, Billy’s youngest sister. Ten years old and tiny, still anxiously waiting for the famous Doyle growth spurt to hit. She had long, dark hair, eyes exactly like Billy’s (all the Doyle kids do, courtesy of their father), and more energy than a hummingbird on crack. When I used to babysit her, the only way I could keep her entertained was by playing “twins” with her. Have to admit, that was fun for me, too. I loved having an excuse to bat the legendary Doyle eyelashes.

Molly’s hand slipped easily from the handcuffs. Once free, I almost changed right back into Mina so my clothes would fit, but decided I would be faster and lighter on my feet as Molly. I hauled up my dress, slipped out of my shoes, and tiptoed to the window. Peeked out, careful to keep my face from showing, in case anyone was outside. No tall blond men, no dour Native American, only a bunch of trees to one side, and a barn to the other. Beyond the barn was an old farmhouse. All right, then. A country farm. I must be in some sort of guest cottage.

Still treading softly, I scurried to the bedroom door, Molly’s teensy feet soundless on the wooden floor. There was no lock. They probably hadn’t thought they’d need one, what with the handcuffs and all. Little did they know what I was capable of … and my problem was going to be making sure they didn’t find out about those capabilities while I made my escape.

No squeak when I opened the door—good. The bedroom was directly off the living area, where the furnishings were pure Ikea. Inexpensive, modern, serviceable. The kitchen, if you can call a stove, a sink, a minifridge, and two small cupboards a kitchen, occupied one end of the room. A pine table with four chairs around it served as a room divider. If there was a bathroom, I didn’t see it.

The back window looked out over a small yard, with closely cropped grass blanketing the ground right up to the edge of the woods. Just beyond where the trees started I noticed a small building, barely wider than its door.

Ah-ha. An outhouse. Lovely. Well, any port in a storm. I didn’t want to risk getting caught, but not nearly as much as I didn’t want to wet myself, so I crept out the front door and scanned the area. All clear. I ran to the privy and slipped inside.

Ugh. It wasn’t a bad outhouse, as outhouses go, but the atmosphere left little doubt as to its function. The seat—basically, a hole in the wooden planks—looked well-sanded, so maybe I wouldn’t wind up with splinters in my ass. Lucky me.

Pressing matters seen to, I stepped out and scanned the area, turning my mind to what I should do next. Run for it? Tempting, considering the bad vibe I’d been getting from Per. That man would take any excuse to slap me silly, just because of a little bite. What a baby.

Nils hadn’t hit me, but he’d sure as hell held me down while Per had jabbed me with the needle. Couldn’t count on him for help, no matter how polite he was. I needed to get gone, and fast, before they got back. Running was hardly practical, though, considering I had no idea where I was. How close was I to a town? Might be too far to walk, even if I had a clue which way to go.

Maybe there was a phone? I hadn’t seen one in the cottage, but the big farmhouse might have one. But what if that was where the Vikings were? Crap. Couldn’t risk it.

What I needed was a vehicle of some sort. A car, or even a motorcycle. A map that had a big “You Are Here” X-ed onto it wouldn’t hurt either, I thought wryly. Hmm … The barn? It was big enough to hold a car, or maybe there was one behind it. That was more likely—I’d check there first.

The only thing behind the big, old building was an equally old fertilizer truck. Full of shit, from the smell of it. Still, it had wheels, and I couldn’t exactly afford to be choosy. I morphed back into Mina (Molly was too little to see over the steering wheel) and reached for the door.

As I was climbing up onto the seat, I heard the sound of an engine in the distance.
Shit
. Someone was coming. I left the truck—regretfully—and peeked around the corner of the barn. Saw Per and Nonto get out of a Mini Cooper. No way would I be able to make a quiet getaway in the monster truck with them so close—I’d be caught for sure.
Damn it
. I’d have to get back to my bed and wait for a better opportunity.

Nonto retrieved a few sacks from the backseat—groceries, it looked like—while Per headed straight to the front door. Not a helpful sort, apparently. If he checked on me right away, I was sunk.

I waited until Nonto was almost to the porch, then made a dash for the cottage, moving as swiftly as my long dress allowed. The sky was definitely darker than it had been earlier, so we were on the downhill side of the day. Once around to the back of the house, I saw what I hoped was the window to the bedroom. If it was locked from the inside, I was screwed.

It wasn’t. It gave, with only minimal resistance and not a lot of noise. I heard voices from the front of the house, and the sound of cupboard doors closing. I might just have time.

Bracing my hands on the sill, I hopped up and swung my hip over. Ducked my head into the room, pulled my legs in behind me. The voices were getting louder, heading toward me. I couldn’t take time to close the window.

I changed into Molly as I dove for the bed, slipped my hand through the cuff, and was back to being Mina before I could complete a breath. Just in time, too. Per strode through the door, a pompous smirk plastered to his face.

“Well, well.
Den lilla hunden
has awakened from her nap,” he said.

“So it would appear,” I said, ignoring what he’d just called me. I figured whatever it meant, it wasn’t likely complimentary.

He looked from me to the window, where the cheap cotton curtains were moving with the breeze. His brow furrowed and he swung his head back to me. I kept Mina’s expression blank.

“Nils thought you needed some fresh air?” he asked, his tone making it clear he didn’t approve of his partner’s considerate treatment of me.

“How should I know? I just woke up.” I rattled my handcuffs. “Hey, can you undo me here? I could use a ladies room.”

“You will have to wait.” He walked to the window, closed and locked it. “When your hero returns, perhaps you can prevail upon him to see to your needs. Though I must warn you, we have nothing so fancy as a ‘ladies room’ here.” He smiled unpleasantly and left.

The son of bitch. If I hadn’t already taken care of matters, I’d pee all over his bed just to spite him. I found myself actually missing Nils. At least he was courteous. And he
had
kept Per from breaking my arm. That was nice of him. Where was he, anyway? The only voice I could hear belonged to Per, saying something about shampoo and body wash in English to Nonto.

What the heck? They were in the middle of a kidnapping and discussing toiletries? I listened harder, but wasn’t able to make out every word.

“… new product … unlikely women will … only men who need … be no problem,” Per said.

“Have you considered…” Nonto’s voice at last. Well, whaddya know. He wasn’t mute after all. “… could harm…”

“It’s a chance we must take,” Per said, his voice closer.

The front door opened and shut. “I sometimes think you are willing to take too many chances.” Nils’s voice. I was relieved to hear it.