Ravished by a Viking (21 page)

Birget blinked at the moisture welling in her eyes, and grasped the amulet, still warm from his skin, inside her fist.

He tucked a finger under chin to raise her face. “Be careful, little sister,” he said softly.

Tears continued to fill her eyes, and her nose burned, but she didn’t feel shame. She nodded, turned to Honora and gave her a little bow, then executed a sharp about-face. As she marched away, her heart soared. She, Birget of the Bearshirt clan, had earned the approval of the Black Wolf.

Baraq waited in front of the transport ship.

The sight of him gave her comfort and strength. She wasn’t sure she liked the fact she wanted to lean on a man. Her chin shot up. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just leave you on the dock?”

“You don’t trust me, Princess?”

“Don’t mock me, not now. I would know that you come willingly and without an ulterior purpose.”

“My reasons for falling in with the Black Wolf’s plans have nothing to do with you, even as attractive as I find you. I’m not a man whose principles will be swayed by a pretty face.”

Birget frowned as heat blossomed on her cheeks. She was setting out on a mission that, if successful, would be added to the sagas that chronicled her people’s history. However, a backhanded compliment from an Outlander warmed her, melting her insides.

A feeling that could prove disastrous. For the first time, she worried about whether she had done the right thing seducing him. “Then why?”

“Because I am obligated to find those men—to save my captain and myself, and to do the right thing.” Baraq turned on his heel and walked up the gangplank.

But he walked slowly, speeding up only when she stomped on the gangplank behind him. Birget smiled, her chest filled with happiness for the respect she’d earned, and for the man who would share the adventure.

Dagr watched her leave, giving a silent prayer to the gods he didn’t really believe in to protect Birget and aid her in finding his brother.

“Do you regret leaving it to her to find him?” Honora said, slipping her hand inside his.

He squeezed her hand, then dropped it. “She is a Viking. She will do everything in her power to succeed. Whether or not she’s happy with her future husband.” He glanced down. “Don’t we have a chase to lead?”

Honora closed her eyes for a brief moment, and then took a deep breath. “I wish we had more time.”

“We’ll have a lifetime, Lady Captain.” He would make it so.

Eighteen

Eirik braced his hands against the bars of his cage as the spacecraft shuddered and rattled around them.

“What is happening?” one of the Vikings farther down the row of cages cried out.

“My guess is that we’re entering a planet’s atmosphere,” Eirik shouted, holding tight to the bars of his own small prison.

Up and down the line, the men shared worried glances as the spacecraft continued to shimmy. Then it jerked, sending them banging against the bars before the glide path of the craft evened out. The sensation of a swift descent unsettled Eirik’s belly.

Without windows into the world they entered, Eirik could only guess at what happened, until the descent abruptly halted and the ship groaned and thudded, settling at last. The hum of the engines died away, leaving a silence that was as frightening as the moment he’d woken naked on the cage floor.

“We have no weapons, but we cannot let them take us from this ship,” said Hakon, the
Berserkir
in the adjacent cage.

Eirik eyed the tension in his fellow captive’s face and knew he must look every bit as stern. They hid their trepidation, tamping it down while they schooled their heartbeats into steady rhythms. Panic and fear wouldn’ t serve them now. They needed an opportunity. Just one.

“Keep an eye out,” Eirik said softly. “If they give us the break we need, I will signal you.”

Despite the fact most of the men here were Bearshirts or from southern clans, they had listened to him from the start, respect for his family’s name and reputation giving him an edge. Someone needed to be in charge.

“And if we don’t get that break?” Hakon said, his brown eyes flashing from beneath blond eyebrows. Hakon had become Eirik’s de facto second.

“If we don’t get an opportunity now, then we wait. We may be warriors and prone to act first, but we are also Icelanders. We have thrived on a planet where weaker men would have perished.”

Hakon’s lips lifted in a fierce snarl. “These
Utlending
bastards will not stand a chance against our might.”

“When the time comes,” Eirik cautioned.

Hakon’s jaws ground together, but he ducked his head, the closest to a nod of agreement he would give Eirik. Of a similar size and strength, Hakon wasn’t swayed by Eirik’s rank or reputation. Which was what made Eirik trust him all the more.

Footsteps stomping closer on the metal grate flooring drew all the Vikings’ gazes.

Fatin and the white-coated bitch, Miriam, strode at the head of a long column of soldiers, wearing helmets and armed with laser guns and stun batons.

Eirik shot a glance down the line of cages and gave a subtle shake of his head.
Not yet.
Maybe not at all this day.

Fatin stopped in front of his cage. Excitement glittered in her black eyes. “You really shouldn’t worry all that much.”

Eirik grunted and gave her a sharp, deadly glare.

“Posturing still, I see.”

She came closer, close enough he could have reached through the bars and broken her neck, but the glint of humor in her eyes said she knew he wouldn’t risk the consequences.
Not yet
, he repeated to himself.

“Don’t get so worked up, Eirik Wolfskin. Your life won’t be so bad. You could have a very comfortable one, filled with privilege, if you cooperate.”

“You have said I will be a whore to the women of your world. How can I accept such a fate?”

“By making the best of the opportunities you will have. As long as you live, Viking, you have a chance to earn your freedom.”

Why she said such things to him while her expression brought to mind of one of the soulless creatures from Hel’s cold realm confused him. As did his reaction to her presence. The thin fabric of his pull-on pants couldn’t hide his automatic response to the spicy scent of her skin or the sight of her slender curves.

Her lips curved into a lush smile. “Such a shame we have no time ...” Then she laughed while a low, warning growl rumbled from his chest. “They will love you. Give them raw. Let them think they tame you into tenderness.” She turned.

Eirik watched as she waited for a door to be opened at the side of the ship. When it swung open, she grasped both sides of the doorframe and leaned out, her chest rising as she inhaled. A trill of laughter erupted, and she flung back her head.

Eirik continued to stare. Wondering. The woman seemed triumphant. Was it only the successful delivery of her cargo? He didn’t think so. So many things didn’t seem to align—not her coldness or her quiet concern. Not the cool demeanor when she stood a distance from him and the other men or the heat that rolled off her skin and darkened her eyes when she stepped closer.

He’d take heed of her warning. Play the game she suggested. By rights he shouldn’t trust a word she said, but he’d watch and wait.

Fatin flung him a dark, enigmatic glance, then stepped into the sunlight that gleamed through the open doorway.

Honora sat once again in her captain’s chair, fidgeting, adjusting her seat up and down, making the cushion plump, then deflate. For some reason, her chair didn’t feel as comfortable as it once did. Worse, her authority didn’t feel natural. Just days had passed since she’d acted as the rightful captain of the
Proteus
, but her entire life had changed, even her way of thinking.

All due to the man who stood behind her and whose large, warm hands cupped her shoulders, calming her as they crashed through the armada’s front line at light speed. “Rear view,” she said quietly, waiting as the microscopic creatures in the viewing screen realigned to give those on the command deck a visual as Consortium ships peeled away one by one to join the chase.

“Turk, how long until we make the wormhole?”

He didn’t reply immediately, the set of his shoulders—hunched toward his console—indicative enough of his worry that she didn’t ask him again.

“For ward view.” Gods, she felt the need to vacillate endlessly between the two views, but decided to keep her focus on their destination—as far as they could get from the other transport making its way now through the gaps they’d widened in the armada’s coverage. Cyrus would have to worry about his own ass now.

She pressed her forefinger into the long indent beneath her finger to call the computer. “Can we tap into the chatter on the command freqs?” she asked.

“We are being jammed, Captain Turgay.”

Dagr’s thumbs pressed into the back of her neck, just beneath her hair.

Honora groaned and let her head fall back. “You shouldn’t do that,” she breathed, watching him watch her. “I need to concentrate.”

“There is nothing you can do. I would ease your tension.”

Searching his face, she wrinkled her nose. “Your touch doesn’t soothe.”

A smile stretched across his features.

Gods, he was a handsome man. His fingers sank into her hair and pulled back her head even farther. Then he bent and kissed her, still upside down. Softly. Just lips rubbing against hers, his nose pressed against her chin.

Her mouth stretched now, and when he pulled away, she realized she did feel less tense. “Thanks.”

“Captain!”

She jerked upright.

“A ship is bearing down from straight ahead,” Turk said, excitement raising his voice. “They’re pinging our calling freq.”

Honora pressed her forefinger indent. “Go ahead and open the channel,” she said, and then turned to Dagr. “All you have to do is speak.”

“This is Dagr, the Black Wolf.”

“I am Commander Arikan,” came a terse response. “You have violated Consortium laws. Surrender now, or we will be forced to destroy the ship and kill everyone aboard.”

Honora lifted her finger to break the connection. “How far to the entrance of the wormhole, Turk?”

“Three minutes. They must know that’s where we intend to go. They’re trying to cut us off.”

“They won’t give us three minutes. They’ll have us surrounded sooner than that.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Dagr, what do you want to do?”

“Let me speak.”

She hesitated, her gaze taking in the determined set of his face.

“Trust me, Honora.”

She opened the circuit again.

“Commander Arikan,” Dagr said, his voice taking on a sly tone. “I am considering my options. I am a businessman and would strike a deal with you for the return of your valuable ship and crew.”

“We don’t deal with pirates.”

“I take offense to that term. And I understand you must set standards or the riffraff of the universe would think your ships fair game. However, I seek no ransom. Nothing is damaged, no one killed. So far.”

“You captured our ship. That brands you. Surrender first; then we will talk.”

“How foolish would I be? I would lose any advantage I currently hold.”

Honora’s stomach tightened until she thought she might vomit. Arikan’s voice was hard, merciless.

“From where I sit, wolf, you have no advantage. The
Proteus
has only limited defenses. My vessel is a warship and fully armed. If I give the order, you will be obliterated.”

Dagr grunted. “Then you will not only lose this ship and her crew, but something else even more valuable.”

“I haven’t time for you to be vague.”

“Then I won’t waste words. I’m a businessman. I traded
Proteus
crew members for a king’s ransom in pure light.”

“Are you trying to bribe me?” Arikan said slowly.

“Never,” Dagr said, arching a brow at Honora, who shook her head at his audacity. “I’m only proving that I have a working relationship with the leadership of the strongest kingdom on New Iceland. I and my men will surrender to you, and you will give me your word to hear me out before you decide our disposition. I have a proposition which I will not discuss where anyone else might be listening.”

Honora stiffened. The thing he’d alluded to before. The plan he hadn’t wanted to share in front of anyone else so that if questioned, they wouldn’t be able to divulge any of it. She hoped like Hades he knew what he was doing.

A long silence ensued. Then the viewing screen changed, without Honora having done a thing. The Commander’s face appeared, so large every wrinkle and even the hook of his aging nose were amplified.

“They’ve taken over the controls,” she said calmly, assuming a neutral expression now that Arikan was watching them.

“Silence!” Dagr bellowed, his hands clamping harder on her shoulders.

She understood. The deception had begun. She was back to being the captive. At least while in sight of others. Honora didn’t have to pretend to feel trapped and defeated. From here on out, she was flotsam, drifting on the whim of the higher-ups. Her life was bound to change, possibly to end.

“My men and I are prepared to gather for transport to your vessel,” Dagr said.

“That’s not acceptable. We will send a boarding party to the
Proteus
.”

“And my men will capture them or die trying. You will do this our way. The
Proteus
was only a stepping-stone in my plan. I needed your attention. Now that I have it, I would speak with you directly.”

Honora wondered what he could possibly say that would stave off death or imprisonment. And why be stubborn over the location of the surrender? Did he think she would be better off if her ship wasn’t invaded by her own people? That might be true.

Arikan’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. Fury glazed his leathery cheeks. “Captain Turgay.”

She straightened her shoulders, ignoring the press of Dagr’s hands. “Yes, sir.”

“You will resume command of your ship once the pirates are transferred. When I give the order, you will proceed directly to the Heraklion port on Helios.”

She nodded her acceptance of the command, even knowing he was telling her she delivered herself into custody. Heraklion wasn’t the military port. Any military ship forced to dock there would be overrun by law enforcement.

Arikan thought she wouldn’t balk at the order. And the old Honora would not have thought twice, regardless of the personal price.

“Black Wolf, make your way to the cargo bay. We will transport your entire party aboard at the same time. Captain Turgay, you will verify the ship is free of infestation.”

The viewing screen darkened.

Dagr grabbed her arm and forced her from the chair, bending her arm painfully behind her, making her grimace. But once he’d walked her into the corridor, he pulled her into his arms. Vikings walked past them, having heard the instructions, their faces grim.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him hard, sinking her face into the corner of his neck to hide her tears.

“I will find you,” he said, his voice roughening.

“You’ll be dead.” She sniffed. “Fuck, we’ll both be dead.”

His hand clutched the back of her hair and pulled until she met his gaze. “I have something your commander will not be able to resist.”

Tightness clogged her throat and she swallowed hard. “You don’t know them. He will follow protocols. He has no flexibility to act.”

“He has pride and ambition. He will hear me out. Do not do as he commands, Honora. Do not head to Helios.”

“I must. They will track the ship. I can’t deviate from the path without drawing fire. And to cloak again ...” She shook her head.

“Find a way to escape. Make your way to Karthagos.” His gaze was intent, searching. “I will find you there.”

Honora nodded, knowing she’d do no such thing.

Dagr glared, his hands tightening on her upper arms like he wanted to shake her.

She gave him a small, trembling smile and cupped his cheek. “We will both do what we must to survive. That’s the best I can promise.”

He nodded, then grabbed her hand and headed down the corridor to the ladder leading into the cargo hold. A portal had already been opened; his men stood to the side of it, waiting.