The Medusa Prophecy

by Cindy Dees

  He laughed then, drawing her close against him and burying his face in her hair. “God, I think I’m falling in love,” he chortled.

  She froze. And then he froze.

  “I’m sorry,” he said hastily. “I didn’t mean to—”

  She put her fingers across his mouth, stilled his lips. “It’s okay. No apologies necessary. It just slipped out in the moment. It’s all right.”

  “No. You don’t understand. I’m not retracting what I said. That’s what I’ve been feeling. I’m just apologizing for saying it in that way. I should’ve waited until there were candles and roses and…and we were warm.”

  She stared, stunned all the way down to her toes. And then, for lack of anything else to say, she stammered, “I’m okay with reindeer dung and dead grass as a romantic backdrop. And I’ve gotten so used to being cold I hardly notice it anymore.”

  He brushed his fingertips along her cheek. “Ahh, you’re my kind of girl. A true romantic at heart. It’s not the gifts but the gesture that matters to you, isn’t it?”

  She nodded slowly. “I don’t need much out of life. But I do want loyalty. And honesty. And genuine concern for me.”

  He shocked her by dropping to one knee, right there in the snow. “Karen Turner, I swear on the stars above that you have all three from me.”

  Holy cow. She reached down and tugged on his hands. “Stand up, you big oaf. You’re embarrassing me.”

  “I’ll take that as acceptance of my declaration, then.”

  She smiled shyly at him, peeking up through her eyelashes. She couldn’t believe that Karen Turner, commando and killer, was receiving romantic declarations from this guy. But then, she’d never have believed he’d go down on one knee and say something like that to her, either.

  She gathered the moment close to her heart. And then a blast of bitter wind caught her parka hood and blew it back, exposing her head. She snatched at it hastily and pulled it back up. She glanced up at the sky.

  “Those stars you just swore on are disappearing fast. I’d say our blizzard’s about here.”

  He glanced up as well. “I’d say you’re right. We’d better get back to the hut and batten down the hatches before the brunt of it hits.”

  They hustled back toward their dwelling, pushed toward it by the sudden and powerful wind. Man, that had blown up fast. As they hurried across the village, the locals scurried to put out the last of the bonfire and head for their homes.

  And then a scream cut through the air, barely louder than the rising howl of the wind, but a scream nonetheless. Karen and Anders exchanged alarmed glances with each other—just long enough to verify that they’d both heard what the other one had. They took off running in the general direction of the noise.

  “Any idea where that came from?” Anders grunted.

  “Off to our left, I think,” Karen replied.

  They veered toward the double row of permanent houses. Karen wasn’t surprised to see Aleesha, Jack and Vanessa racing toward them from the other end of the street. A woman in a doorway screamed again.

  Karen and Anders got there first. Anders bit out something fast in Sami. “What’s wrong?” no doubt.

  The woman jabbered something over her shoulder as she turned and hurried through the tiny living room and into the even tinier kitchen. The source of her panic was immediately visible. A teenage boy lay on the floor with a middle-aged Sami man sprawled on top of him. The older man was trying with no success to keep the youth from flopping around in the throes of a violent seizure.

  Karen recognized the boy. He was one of the kids who’d been “possessed” by the Viking warrior spirits a few days ago at the big bonfire. The ones she’d thought had been drunk. The ones she now knew to be infected with the same chemical she was.

  Karen and Anders helped the older man hold the teen down, but the boy’s strength was unbelievable. He arched up off the floor, lifting all three of them with him. Aleesha raced into the now-crowded space, took one look, and took over immediately, barking out commands like the emergency room physician she’d once been.

  In short order, they had the kid’s arm pinned down, his sleeve pushed up, and a hypodermic needle buried in a vein. Aleesha pushed in a chunking dose of an anticonvulsant. It took about a minute, but gradually, the youth’s body went flaccid. Everybody climbed off the kid.

  And then, just like that, the boy clutched at his chest and his face contorted.

  “He’s crashing,” Aleesha announced urgently. “Break out the cardiac kit.”

  They worked frantically on the kid for upwards of twenty minutes, ventilating him, performing CPR, and eventually getting his heart beating regularly again.

  Finally, Aleesha sat back on her heels. “If we hadn’t been sitting right beside him when his heart stopped, he’d have died.”

  Karen stared down at the kid. Damn, that had been close! Aleesha was a hell of a fighter, though. She didn’t give in easily to death with any patient of hers. Warily, Karen continued to watch the teen’s chest rise and fall—when had the simple act of breathing become such an incredibly fragile thing? Was this what she had to look forward to? Seizures leading up to heart failure and death?

  Chapter 15

  Lakvik, Norway, March 9, 11:30 p.m.

  Anders held their hut door for Karen, which was no small feat in the gale force winds. She helped him wrestle the wood panel shut, and threw the bar that served as a latch into its slots. The door rattled its protest. The storm was upon them.

  The sudden stillness of the thick-walled hut surrounded Karen like a blanket. It stood in sharp contrast to the turmoil inside her. That Sami kid had nearly died, and she was loaded up with the same lethal drug he was.

  Oh, sure, Aleesha had tried to reassure her. Had reminded Karen that she had only rolled around in the stuff, fully clothed. She hadn’t swallowed it or injected it, and that potentially made a huge difference in how her body reacted to it and whether or not it would affect her the same way it had this kid. Aleesha had also reminded Karen that everyone reacts differently to different medications, LSD in particular.

  Not one bit of it made her feel any better. The drug inside her could still kill her.

  Yet again, Anders seemed to pluck the thought right out of her head. “It won’t kill you,” he said quietly. “You’re strong.”

  “I wasn’t strong enough to fight its effects when I went after Jack.”

  “But you didn’t kill him. You overcame the drug’s effects. Besides, I’m not going to let you be alone for a second. You’re not in this fight alone anymore.”

  “My own knight in shining armor, huh?”

  He shrugged. “I prefer to think in terms of your own furclad Viking warrior conquering all your demons.”

  “I’ll just call you Beowulf.”

  He smiled at her, and her insides reacted with their usual twist of attraction. “We’ve still got several hours before we have to leave. You want to try to lie down and catch a nap?”

  She sighed. “We ought to.”

  Skipping a fire since they were due to leave on their op in a few hours, they duly crawled into their sleeping bags. Karen stared up into the dark, her eyes wide open. Whether it was the insomniac effect of the drug or her disquiet over the idea of dying, she couldn’t tell. But either way, sleep was not happening.

  “You asleep?” Anders whispered after nearly a half hour.

  “Not even close,” she replied, surprised. “Why aren’t you out cold?”

  His voice floated out of the darkness. “Can’t get past the idea of losing you, I guess.”

  Karen jolted upright. “You’d have to have me first in order to lose me.”

  A rustle of nylon indicated he’d sat up, too, but he didn’t say anything. A flashlight flared, and Karen squinted into the sudden glare. She watched in silence as he got up and lit an oil lantern the Samis had provided. Her breath hung in the air in front of her, its fog obscuring the details of his expression. But she could still see he was dead
serious as he turned to face her, his fists planted on his hips. Actually, he looked annoyed.

  “Let’s get one thing straight, Karen Turner. I intend to have a relationship with you.”

  Her mouth flapped open and shut a couple times. What in the bloody hell was she supposed to say in response to that? She blurted the only thing that came to mind. “I can’t possibly have a relationship with a guy I can beat in a fight.”

  He studied her intently for several seconds. His eyes narrowed. “Fair enough, then. A fight it is. You owe me a rematch on that ambush, anyway. And I’m happy to take your twenty krone.”

  She felt a smile hovering at the edges of her mouth. “Hah! Who says you’re going to win?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  She stared over at him speculatively. “You’re on.”

  He stared back for a long moment, then sighed. “I’d take you up on that, except I don’t want to trigger another episode in you.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.”

  “I’m not,” he retorted.

  His words were a kick in the gut. He was afraid of her. She was so strong and so violent when the drug had her in its grip that he wouldn’t risk sparring with her.

  “Shit,” Anders muttered. He stood up. Walked over to where she sat glumly and held a hand down to help her up. “C’mon. Let’s do it.”

  Her gaze jerked up to him.

  “I wasn’t worried about my own safety. I was worried about yours. I have no doubt that I can take you, drug-induced rage or not. I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself. If you have a seizure, I’ll go get Aleesha. I’m game to settle this thing between us if you are.”

  She stared at his hand for a moment. She ought to be smart. Do the cautious thing and not chance losing control. Except she trusted Anders. He’d take care of her if she lost it.

  “But what if I win? If I go nuts then, you could be in real danger.”

  He shrugged, his hand still extended to her. “I’m willing to take that chance.”

  She hesitated a moment longer, then reached out and took his hand. Their palms grasped, warmth to warmth, easy strength to easy strength. He gave a tug and she rose to her feet. She looked up the few inches into his ice-blue gaze and was startled by the intensity she saw there. Without releasing her hand, he pulled her closer until they stood chest to chest with only their clasped hands separating them.

  “I will win, Karen,” he said quietly.

  “How can you be so sure?” Damned if she wasn’t feeling a little…sheesh…breathless. She didn’t do breathless. But here she was, panting like a dog after a rabbit chase on a hot summer day.

  “I’ll win because I’ve got so much riding on it. And I’m not talking about my health. I’m talking about us.”

  A slow smile unfolded on his lips that tempted her to reach up and kiss it. So distracted was she by the urge to taste that chocolate-and-roses smile, that she almost didn’t catch his next words.

  “You’ll lose because you want me, too.”

  Her eyebrows shot straight up. “Of all the nerve!” she exclaimed.

  He laughed. “And you love it.”

  She stripped off her outer sweater and pushed her sleeping bag against the wall. “So, what are the rules of engagement here?”

  He considered her for a moment. “Hand-to-hand. No weapons.”

  She snorted. “Good call.”

  He continued, “Yield the fight on a move that would incapacitate or kill, otherwise, no holds barred. We go until one of us cries Uncle.”

  In other words, this would be a free-for-all, just like the last time they’d fought. This would be a test of strength on strength, skill on skill. And this time she wouldn’t have surprise on her side. Her natural desire to win surged to the fore. Except…he had a point. Wouldn’t it be lovely if he could beat her? Regardless, she wasn’t about to hand this to him. If he won, he’d have to do it fair and square.

  “I’m not throwing the fight for you,” she warned him.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’d be tremendously disappointed if you did. I want to settle this once and for all. Here and now. And if you threw the fight, you still wouldn’t know if I could take you. We’d have to do it again.”

  She laughed. “Okay, now that might just be the argument that makes me give this fight away.”

  He took a step closer, invading her personal space, and glared down at her. He pronounced each word succinctly as he said, “Don’t you dare tank this on me.”

  Ahh, there it was. Now she had him good and riled up. In her experience, special operators didn’t scream when they got well and truly pissed off. They went quiet. Got real still and focused. Like a tiger about to pounce and kill. Pretty much like he was doing right now.

  Sparks flew as their gazes collided. “I wouldn’t dream of giving this to you,” she replied, her voice dripping with silky threat. “If you want it, you’re going to have to come and take it.”

  He stepped back, and his gaze raked down her, stripping off every stitch of clothing she had on. His eyes blazed with silver fire. And her body tingled from head to foot. The fight. She was talking about the fight when she told him to come and take it.

  Yeah, right.

  A hum of need started vibrating low in her belly. A need to lay her hands on him, to have him do the same to her, pricked her palms until they tingled.

  He nodded slowly, maybe in approval at what he saw as he blatantly ogled her, maybe in affirmation that he was, indeed, going to come and take everything she had—by force if necessary.

  Fair enough. After all, she was the one who’d put him up to this fight. A fight she was going to get.

  The two of them moved all their gear to one end of the hut and pushed aside the rocks that formed the fire pit. The whole center of the space was bare dirt now.

  “Ready?” Anders asked, all business.

  “Yup. Any time. Take your best shot.”

  She stared in dismay when, instead of attacking, he shrugged out of his shirt. Now that was a hell of an unfair tactic. How was she supposed to fight with all that gorgeous, bare-skinned guy standing in front of her? Good grief, she could stare at his chest forever. It was all smooth skin, rippled bulges of bronze muscle and no body fat. None. The vibration of need low in her gut ratcheted up a notch to an insistent tickle.

  “How in the heck do you manage to have a tan in this country at this time of year?” she demanded.

  He grinned at her. “Thanks for noticing. After the Olympics, I spent a few weeks in the Caribbean. Remind me to take you there after this is all over. I know the most gorgeous beach. Totally deserted. You can strip down to your skin and sleep in the sun for hours.”

  Oh, Lord. What an image that called to mind! Her and Anders naked together. No tan lines. Turquoise and emerald waves lapping up on soft, white sand. Just the two of them and a beach towel with the sun and the heat—

  Holy cow.

  “Shall we get started, then?” he asked politely.

  Norway. Hut. Dark and cold. She grasped at her fragmented thoughts, pulling them away reluctantly from her island fantasy. At least Anders remained. And he was the only part that mattered.

  He stepped forward, his hands held out in front of him, relaxed, but clearly at the ready.

  “Is that a Krav Maga stance?” she asked conversationally as she circled him, relaxing into her own fighting stance. She pushed him to the left and what she knew to be his weaker side. Not that either side of an Olympic athlete would be all that weak at the end of the day.

  “Yes, it is. I spent a year in Israel training with one of their counter-terrorism teams,” Anders answered casually as he jumped forward.

  She jumped back fast from the feint. He didn’t follow it up with an attack. Measuring her reflexes, apparently.

  “You’re quick,” he commented on cue.

  “Thanks.”

  They circled once more around the hut in silence, each watching how the other moved, their balance, how they shifte
d weight, the way they used their eyes. He was superbly coordinated. Totally aware of where his body was at all times. She could only imagine what making love with someone like that would be like. Someone who was aware of every millimeter of their own body and hers…damned if that tickle in her gut didn’t kick up to a rather uncomfortable tingle.

  The fight, dammit!

  Anders was giving her precious little by way of openings to exploit. But then, Krav Maga—the street-fighting technique developed by the Israeli Defense Forces for quick, effective take-downs—wasn’t about giving your opponent openings.

  “You look lovely in this light,” Anders remarked, his voice sliding across her skin like velvet.

  “Do you make love as smoothly as you talk?” she replied.

  A dark smile was all the answer she needed. “Only one way to find out. Shall we take a rain check on that?”

  Okay, the tingle had just become a shiver that shot up her spine. “You’ll have to beat me, first.”

  “We have a plan, then. Win the fight; ravish the girl.” A pause while he forced her to reverse directions in their circling dance of stalk and retreat. Then he added, “Remind me to drive you out of your mind with pleasure before I’m done with you.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You need a reminder of that?”

  He laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “Hardly. I’m no inexperienced boy.”

  That made her gulp. Knew his way around a woman, did he? And didn’t that just send the shiver shooting out to the tips of her fingers! And then he leaped in on the attack.

  The move was designed to hit her off center and knock her off balance. He was too fast for her to dodge completely, so she stepped into the lunge and met him head-on. She grunted as his body slammed into hers. He tried to grab her wrists, but she evaded him with a nifty wrist slip. She jerked hard and spun, dragging his hand across her belly, electrifying her with the intimacy of it…and she was free! She jumped back, breathing hard.

  He lunged again.

  This time she dropped low, slipping under his attack and reaching for his legs as he went past. Her hands slid across his thighs. Registered rock-solid muscles. He’d have the capacity to make love hard and deep with all that muscle to back him up. She could just feel his thighs flexing against hers as he pounded into her. And given his cross-country skiing training, she’d bet he could keep the rhythm going for hours. He did a slick, midair direction reversal within her grasp and leaped clear.