Because I missed my blogging day last week (sorry about that), I'm going to include 2 chapters for you today. Yay!
The last episode ended with Max leaving Addy at the Tuniit village. He thinks she's safe. But Regan is hunting for her. Will he find her?
An abducted cop and a gladiator prisoner must learn to trust each other with their lives…and their hearts…to escape their alien captors.
Catch up reading on CAPTIVE here for free: Chapter 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Chs 10&11 Ch 12 Ch 13 Ch 14 Ch 15 Ch 16 Ch 17 Ch 18 Ch 19 Ch 20 Ch21 Ch22 Chs 23&24 Chs 25&26 Ch27 Ch28 Ch29 Ch 30
CAPTIVE
Chapter
Thirty-One
The early morning trek didn’t ease the lingering aches from a restless night. He’d been right to leave her behind. Her safety rated higher than a little sleep deprivation. Besides, he could survive alone. Hell, he’d been doing that for fifteen years.
The snow crunched.
Max’s neck hair prickled. Something nearby stalked him. He shrugged off his backpack, wary of the hiding places the trees and rolling icescape availed to predators.
Movement caught his attention. Camouflaged against the snow, a scrawny white smilodon, its fur mangy and flesh gaunt, crouched on his haunches. Even if the tiger was as sick and weak as it looked, he’d learned the hard way never to underestimate the might of a starving beast.
Weaponless, he slowly squatted to engage his boot’s crampons.
The saber-tooth charged.
Endorphins flooded his veins as three hundred pounds of muscle, claws, and teeth pounced.
He shuffled sideways and clubbed the beast in the head with his backpack, knocking the cat off balance. It fell to its side before rebounding to all fours. Whiskers flared, the tiger exposed a full seven inches of serrated canines as its booming roar reverberated inside Max’s chest.
He swung the backpack in figure eights in front of him, hoping to appear larger and more intimidating. “Come on!” He drew strength from his battle cry.
The tiger’s huge paw swiped, and hot pain tore across his chest. He landed hard on his back. Sucking in air, he drew his knees up, but only had time to engage one boot’s crampons before the saber-tooth leapt. He thrust the sharp spikes into the animal’s muzzle and across its face as the beast’s momentum followed. The tiger tumbled over him, roaring again, this time from pain.
He rolled, engaged the other boot’s crampons, and waited on his back, legs cocked and ready.
The smilodon attacked.
He thrust hard. One boot ripped the side of the beast’s mouth. The other pierced an eye.
The tiger roared and howled and attacked again, its heavy weight crushing him into the snow. He fought to breathe and to keep razor teeth away from his throat. He shoved the backpack into the beast’s ripped mouth while repeatedly punching its bloodied nose and eye.
The weight lifted off him. Precious cold air filled his lungs as the injured beast fled.
Why’d it give up?
Lying in the cold, gasping for breath, the answer cut through the thin air in the form of barking.
Wolves. Damn. He’d rather fight the smilodon. At least he would have had a chance.
The pack’s thunderous feet grew louder as they bore down on him.
Trying to catch his breath, Max didn’t get out of the snow. Maybe if they didn’t see him, they’d chase the smilodon. The thought was hopeful, but stupid. His hot blood would attract the wolves. He was easy prey.
He’d rest a moment longer and then spring to his feet and fight. Without a weapon, he wouldn’t survive the attack. A shiver ran through his bones. This time there’d be no Hyborean to bring him back from the dead.
This would be it. His ultimortem.
At least the woman was safe. Closing his eyes, he pictured her face. Her hair. Her sexy body growing with his child. He could almost hear her call his name above thundering footfalls and barking. Any second he’d feel their teeth and claws shred him apart. After fifteen years of torture, he’d finally die.
Adrenaline surged. Damn, he thought he’d be more willing to leave this world, but survival instinct ran strong.
He jumped to his feet, screamed his battle cry, and ran toward the pack. It took a few strides before registering that the wolves, running in two columns of four, were harnessed and tethered to an umiak sleigh.
He moved to the tree line as the fifteen-foot sleigh came to a halt. There she stood at the reins; the woman he’d left behind. The woman he had frightened into hating him. Her eyes weren’t terrified now. They were sharp with concern.
He was cursed.
“Max, are you okay?”
“Hell, woman, what are you doing here?”
“Saving your sorry hide,” she snapped back.
“I’m quite capable of saving my own sorry hide. Was I not clear in the ice cavern? I wanted you to stay where you’d be safe.” Why did she insist on making his life difficult? He refused to acknowledge the fact that he still had a life thanks to her scaring off the smilodon. She didn’t need the encouragement.
Her gray eyes turned as dark as the north sky before a storm. “I know what you wanted. But you fail to understand what I want. My freedom.”
“You would have had it there.”
“Yeah, right. I had the freedom to choose which of the three men Kaskae expected me to marry.”
Max paused, trying to understand her meaning, but as adrenaline ebbed, dizziness crept into his head. “You came after me looking for a husband?”
“Uh, no. I was on my way to the equator when I happened to see someone getting mauled. Unfortunately, it was you.”
Arctic air whipped across his chest wounds. They stung as much as her words. “How did you get this umiak?” He hoped his gruffness masked his idiocy.
“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
He gave her a cold, hard stare. “Did I say you stole it? I just wanted to know what you traded. Because they didn’t want what I offered.”
“Really? What did you offer?”
“My gladimort. Flesh-eater. You.”
“Hmm. I wonder how Kaskae ended up with your sword, your knife, and me while you ended up boat-less? Looks like you got hosed on that deal.” Why did her smugness irritate so much? What game was she playing? “So, Max.” She folded her arms and rested them on her little round belly. “If you didn’t trade your weapons for a boat, what did you trade them for?”
He could tell by her tone and body language she knew damn well. She just wanted him to say it. Well, he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. He did what he had to do, and if she was too stupid to realize it was for the best, then the hell with her. She was nothing but trouble, anyway.
“Kaskae told me you gave him your weapons in exchange for me staying.”
“Looks like I got hosed on that deal.”
“Funny.” She bent down to retrieve something in the umiak then held up his gladimort and flesh-eater. “Since I wouldn’t let Kaskae keep his end of the bargain, he wouldn’t keep the weapons. You look like you could’ve used them just now.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, well...” So that was her game, gloating. She had managed to get her hands on transportation, weapons, and food—he smelled seal blubber. Plus, she had saved him from being smilodon chow.
Ah hell, after the way he treated her, he deserved her ridicule. He might as well stand there and let her give it to him. He felt like crap, anyway. At least it would make one of them feel better.
She didn’t say anything more. She stood there with sword in one hand, survival knife in the other, head tilted to the side, red-blonde hair whipping across her face, intense gray eyes deep in thought.
Lord, she was sexy as hell. “Will you be returning my effects then, or do I have to retrieve them from you?”
She blinked and righted her head. “I’m sorry. I was deciding whether I should hand them over or run you through.”
“I’d choose option one.”
“How about option three?” She threw the weapons over his head.
He turned to get them.
“Mush!” The leather reins cracked.
He pivoted back, jumped on the side of the umiak, and grabbed the reins. “Whoa!” He jerked them back. The wolves stopped before they had a chance to move the sleigh.
Addy wrestled his grip for control of the reins. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Commandeering your vessel.”
“What are you, an ice pirate?”
“I’m a survivor.”
“Let go.” Her smack stung his cheek. “I traded for this.”
“I traded for something, too, and look how that turned out.”
Gripping the reins in both hands, she 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 protection for my well being, 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, admiring her fighting spirit. “Well, that makes two of us.”
Refusing to back down, she glared, her grip on the reins every bit as tight as his. She might be strong for a pregnant woman, but her strength wouldn’t outlast his. Though, the sleepless night, the smilodon fight, his injuries, and hanging over the side of a boat by an armpit quickly depleted it. 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. What’s an animal’s word worth?”
“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 plastic 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 have really 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 and offered her one. She shook her head no, and he dropped it back into the sack.
“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 akin 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.”
“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 can shoot. Pretty well, actually.”
“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, and then stuck both tubes into 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 frozen land expecting to see evil Hyboreans hiding behind snow-covered foothills.
“—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.
CAPTIVE
Chapter Thirty-Two
A glowing, yellow ball descended down a path in the Ice Mountain. Regan headed for the light. As he neared, he made out the form of a broad-shouldered man cradling a woman in his arms.
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, watching and waiting.
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 see her legs and swollen belly.
A rush awakened his groin.
When the man moved, 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 startled man jabbered in a weird foreign language. Was the guy stupid? His tone didn’t sound angry. In fact, he was probably asking, Can I help you? 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 sat up in bed.
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?”
“Y-Yes.” By her tentative answer and frightened gaze, she already feared him. Smart.
He eyed the man suspiciously. “Both of you?”
“Yakone no speak English.”
“Do you know the humans I’m looking for?”
The man jabbered to her in his native language and she answered, probably translating what Regan wanted. When he jabbered on again, she held up her hand to silence him. She turned to Regan, eyes downcast as she shook her head no. He knew a lie when he saw it.
The man spoke more gibberish.
“Who is this guy?” Regan asked. “Your father?”
“Yakone is husband.”
“Listen to your damn husband and tell me where my humans are.”
The man addressed him directly, his voice deep and stern.
“Shut up. I can’t understand you.”
“Yakone say he want stranger to leave.”
“I’ll leave after I get what I came for.”
“I don’t know who people are.” Her gaze shifted to the contents on a small table—a brush, hair combs, and a pocket-sized book—before dropping to the floor.
He grabbed the book, A Pocket Guide to Moonshine. “Where is she?”
The lying bitch wrung her hands. It wouldn’t be long before she cracked.
The idiot husband approached him speaking in a stern tone, no doubt telling him to get out. Regan revealed the hidden knife, stopping the man in his tracks, and threw the book at the girl. “Where’s my broodmare?”
Tears rolled down her face. “I don’t know. Go away.”
Regan grabbed the husband and 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. “Where did that book come from?”
Regan drew the knife, cutting the man in warning. He gasped and pleaded with her, 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 brought him into the killing zone. His blood coursed. Endorphins raged. Nothing could stop him from slitting the man’s throat and fucking the bitch.
“Max left one night ago on foot.” She wiped her tears. “Addy left today morning. Eat then take umiak sleigh.”
“Where are they going?”
“Southland. To Pele.”
“That’s more like it.” In one quick movement, he drew the knife across the man’s throat. He slumped to the floor, choking on his blood.
“Yakone!”
It was all she could scream before he jumped her, his tongue in her pretty, little mouth.
#
Regan is scum! And he's getting closer to Addy and Max. Can they get to the refuge before he finds and returns them to captivity? Find out in next week's episode Chapters 33 & 34 or read the full story now for only $2.99 at your favorite retailers.
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