Ragnar - Lord of Jaegar

by Sasha Gold

“Can you get this tin crate to fly faster?” Ragnar muttered.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Natasha

  Before Elise left on her last mission, she’d asked Natasha to stay away from the Vrandarian guards, which meant remaining inside. Complying with the request was no great sacrifice. For the most part, other than a few well-placed gardens, the grounds of Cresenta looked rag-tag and depressing. She paced the rooms, trying not to think of Ragnar, or of her sister stealing from Gunnar.

  Just before dusk, she thought she heard a woman scream. Opening the door, she listened and heard the unmistakable sound of a woman’s cry for help. Natasha ran down the steps, toward the sound. As she came around the corner of a partially constructed building, she saw one of the guards tussling with a Nymph.

  With a single strike to the back of his neck, Natasha neutralized the giant Vrandarian. He fell to the ground and groaned. He wasn’t unconscious, but he wasn’t moving. Much.

  “You don’t want me to hit you again,” Natasha said. “Because the next blow will smart a little.”

  “Bitch,” he muttered.

  Natasha smiled good-naturedly. “Nice to meet you too.”

  The Nymph panted and trembled, but her terror didn’t keep her from landing a small ineffectual kick to the man’s gut. Her sandaled foot hardly had an impact, but Natasha admired her pluck.

  “You are Natasha,” the Nymph said, brushing her hair from her face. “When did you get here?”

  Natasha recognized the Nymph as Paula, the woman Birgitta had introduced her to.

  “I’ve been here for a few days.”

  “Thank you for coming to my aid,” Paula said. She turned her gaze to the guard, writhing on the ground. The man groaned and turned to his back. A bottle fell from his pocket and rolled onto the sand.

  Natasha lifted it and brushed the sand from the glass. “Wine from Zaandar. Where did you get that?”

  The guard grimaced but said nothing.

  “The Vrandarians are up to something,” Paula said. “There are others. They’ve been drinking and they’re passed out in their barracks. This one keeps saying everyone’s under arrest until Elise returns.”

  Natasha snorted. She couldn’t imagine the dim-witted Vrandarians could get far, trying to throw their weight around on Cresenta. Still, she worried about Elise. As usual.

  “Really? I suppose I’ll need to question you further.” Natasha glanced at the trembling Nymph. “Maybe we should have a glass of this while we talk to our friend.”

  Paula rubbed her arms to warm herself against the growing chill. “We should be inside. I don’t think the others will wake till morning, but they wouldn’t dare enter your sister’s quarters.”

  Natasha handed her the bottle and grabbed the guard’s legs by the boots. She dragged him along the sand toward Elise’s home. The man was heavy and it was challenging to pull him up the short flight of stairs. He cursed, his head thumping each step.

  Natasha gave the Nymph a look, pretending sympathy for the prisoner. “Ouch. He might feel that in the morning.”

  Paula’s lips tilted and her frightened expression softened.

  After hoisting him into a chair and tying him securely, Natasha found glasses and a cork implement. The cork pulled off with a pop, a sound that made the Nymph’s eyes widen with surprise. The woman watched as Natasha filled two glasses. Paula was pale and trembled slightly and the glass shook in her hand as she lifted it to her lips.

  Natasha sat down at the table, near the prisoner and across from Paula. She lifted her glass. “We should make a toast. Here’s to learning new things every day.”

  Paula flushed. “I’ve never tied a man up before.”

  Natasha glanced at the man seated between them. His wrists and ankles were tied to the chair. While he was bound tightly, he hadn’t been gagged and he glared at Natasha, a scowl twisting his lips.

  “Do you think you’ll remember the knots?” Natasha asked.

  Paula ran her fingers through her hair and frowned as she looked at her palm. The Vrandarian had pulled her hair and now a few clumps clung to her hand.

  “I think I’ll try my best to forget everything about this night,” she said.

  The sentry growled.

  “Nobody asked you anything,” Natasha snapped. “Except your name. Until you give me your name, you don’t need to say a single word.”

  The man sneered but his expression melted from his features when Natasha reached her hand toward him. He blinked and tried to recoil but he was too tightly bound.

  “What’s this?” Natasha asked, pulling a package from his chest pocket. “Cigarettes? Oooh, I’m afraid I’ll have to confiscate them. I’m responsible for your safety until I release you to the proper authorities.”

  The man bared his teeth and snarled. “That’s me last pack.”

  “It’s a good thing too,” Natasha plucked a cigarette from the box and flicked the incendiary device to see the flame, but did not light the cigarette. “These are terrible for you.”

  “Don’t waste them, you bitch,” the man said from between gritted teeth.

  Paula rested on her elbows and watched with bemusement. “I hear those give a person terrible breath.”

  “I’ve heard the same. You don’t want to smoke and kiss a man,” Natasha said.

  “I’m not kissing anyone, ever,” Paula muttered.

  For an instant Natasha thought of Ragnar. Was he looking for her? Did he miss her as much as she missed him? Now was not the time to think about Ragnar. She had a man to interrogate. She needed information.

  She spun the cigarette between her fingers. “Maybe I should try one of these. You Vrandarians seem to enjoy them.”

  “Fuck, don’t waste my smokes,” the prisoner growled. “That pack is five days’ salary right there.”

  Natasha ignored his protests and regarded Paula. As much as she wanted to question her prisoner, she wondered why a Nymph would sound so bitter. “Why do you say you’re not kissing anyone, ever?”

  The Vrandarian snorted. “I offered to kiss her.”

  Natasha ignored him. “You don’t want to remarry, Paula?”

  Paula shook her head. “That’s why I’m here. I was married and I gave my husband no children. Who would want to marry me?”

  The prisoner snorted. Natasha turned to him and pressed his wrist between her fingers. His arm spasmed and a huff came from his lips.

  “Don’t be rude,” she said.

  “Quit fiddling with me smokes, you little whore.”

  Natasha sighed and shoved the cigarette back in the box, wrinkling her nose at the acrid odor of tobacco. “I think I should gag him.”

  The prisoner squinted at her. His scars looked even more pronounced. “I won’t let you gag me. Not you or the barren, frigid little witch there.”

  Natasha shook her head. “Elise will be back soon. I’ll tell her about you Vrandarians and she won’t be happy about your appalling lack of manners. Or the smoking. I bet Elise won’t like that either, and if you think I’m mean, wait till you see Elise when she’s miffed.”

  “Yer sister’s not coming back.”

  Natasha stared, wondering if she’d heard him correctly.

  The man grinned, exposing his yellowed teeth. “Me and the others are going to collect a reward for your sister.”

  Natasha jerked to her feet. “How so?”

  “The Jaegarian. Gunnar. He’s offered a fortune for the girl.”

  “I heard the same,” Paula said. “I don’t know if it’s true but I attempted to send a transmission to Jaegar, asking for help from Birgitta.”

  “Birgitta knows about this?”

  Paula nodded. “Maybe. If the transmission reached her.”

  Natasha turned to face the prisoner, jostling the table and knocking over her glass of wine. Her vision clouded with red rage. “You betrayed Elise?”

  “I made a business decision. For me and my men.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I
told one of my associates about her latest Jaegarian target.”

  Elise had left the day before. She hadn’t been in touch. Natasha just figured the trip had taken more time than Elise had planned. She gritted her teeth, wishing she could slap the sneer from the Vrandarian’s face.

  “Who did you tell?”

  “None of your fucking business.”

  Natasha brushed her fingers along his jaw. “Tell me.”

  More shouts came from outside. “We’ve got ships. Incoming ships.”

  Natasha whispered. “That might be my sister now.”

  He shook his head. “Nah. It won’t be. She’s in prison. Far, far away.”

  Natasha ran her fingers down his neck.

  He winced. “They ain’t going to hurt her.”

  Natasha eyed the scars crisscrossing his face. The man looked like a monster. He’d attacked Paula and betrayed Elise. Her temper flared and she fought the urge to hit him with his own bottle of wine. She wanted to hurt him. Badly.

  “I’m not taking your word that Elise won’t be hurt. Tell me who has her.”

  “I ain’t telling you a thing, bitch.”

  Natasha dug her fingers into his neck.

  He yelped. “She’s in the Fargian prison, awaiting extradition.”

  Her heart seized. Fargian prison was a hell-hole teeming with criminal elements. Humans, aliens, shifters, all types of monsters were thrown in Fargian prison.

  “Extradition to where?” She loosened the pressure on his neck.

  “To Jaegar. Obviously. Stupid girl. But she’s going to be their guest until they get their money from Gunnar Helmsgaard.”

  Gunnar? She knew he wanted Elise, but would he go through the trouble of extraditing her? What if he just left her there to fend for herself? Panic twisted in her gut.

  The man went on. “Lots of men would pay a pretty penny for a girl with her pirating skill. They might even teach her a few other skills even though she be just a skinny Maiden.” He let his gaze wander down her body as he sneered.

  And then he jerked his head, baring his teeth as he tried to bite her. Despite her fury, her reflexes were quick and she pressed her fingers into his neck. He sputtered and gasped for breath. His body convulsed. His limbs jerked against his restraints. His eyes rolled back and he went limp.

  Natasha stepped away and drew a deep shuddering breath, trying to get the image of her sister in a prison cell out of her mind. Elise was shrewd. Surely, she’d evade capture. Natasha closed her eyes and hoped desperately her sister would be safe.

  “He just lost control of his bladder,” Paula said. “He wet himself.”

  Natasha turned back to the unconscious man. “He’ll be out till morning.”

  Paula stared at the spot on the prisoner’s uniform. “I’d like to learn how to do that.”

  Before Natasha could answer, two Vrandarians burst through the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ragnar

  By the time Ragnar and Gunnar approached the desolate planet, he was more than ready to unleash his fury. If finding his mate had brought out his protective instincts, losing her and being apart from her had set them ablaze. First, he needed to take down the men who threatened the small planet and its inhabitants.

  It was clear that Cresenta, despite the hard work and influx of donations, was still undeveloped. As they drew near, Ragnar could make out the details. Lit by only a few grimy lights, the community looked more like an abandoned mining town than a refuge. Ragnar shook his head and gritted his teeth as he fought the wave of anger.

  The place was dirty. Run-down. His mate had been brought here against her will.

  When Gunnar set the ship down, Ragnar pushed the door open and jumped to the ground. A cloud of dust billowed around him and a blow to his hand sent his telum into the gloom. A Vrandarian materialized, grinning and pointing his weapon at him.

  Before he could shoot, Ragnar threw himself at the Vradarian. The weapon fell from his hand. Ragnar threw a punch as his wolf snarled inside him. The man staggered back. When he turned around, he grinned, blood streaming from his mouth. With a jolt of surprise, Ragnar saw that it was Riddeal, leader of the Vrandarians.

  “Ragnar Helmsgaard,” he crowed. “Winner of the Blood Games in Andromeda.”

  Ragnar snarled and stalked across the sand.

  Riddeal circled. “I’ve come to take your prize, Ragnar. Again.”

  Ragnar answered with a deep growl. He kept his wolf down. Now was not the time. If he needed to take on a mob of soldiers, his wolf would serve him better. A single foe was better dealt with in his human form. He wanted answers from Riddeal.

  “Your little mate will keep my bed warm,” Riddeal taunted. He lunged.

  Ragnar ducked to avoid the blow and landed another punch, this time to Riddeal’s soft midsection. The Vrandarian let out a huff of surprise and fell. Ragnar grabbed his collar and jerked him to his feet. The material tore in his grip. Ragnar drove his head down to break Riddeal’s nose.

  Riddeal let out high-pitched yell. Stumbling backwards, he managed to regain his balance as Ragnar closed in on him.

  Blood streamed from his nose. He snarled, his words muffled. “Maybe I’ll tell your little mate the story about Thorsen’s tragic accident.”

  Ragnar shook his head and bared his teeth. Riddeal’s words spun in his mind. Thorsen’s accident? What did he mean?

  Despite his injuries, Riddeal still managed to gloat. His smile twisted his already grotesque features. "The only accident was that he got in my way."

  Ragnar roared. His vision narrowed and he tensed his muscles to force his wolf back. Red mists of rage clouded his vision. He moved in for the kill. Riddeal’s eyes widened as he stumbled and flailed his arms. Ragnar closed the distance between them. A shriek pierced the air. Unsure if it was Natasha or another woman he jerked his head to find the source of the scream.

  “Natasha, be careful,” a woman screamed.

  Riddeal scrambled backwards, scuttling like a crab. He leered at Ragnar.

  “Better go make sure your little Maiden is untouched.”

  His need to kill Riddeal faded. In it’s place the instinct to protect his mate took hold. Without a conscious thought, he ran towards the sound of the screams. Somewhere behind him, Riddeal’s laughter faded into the night. Unless Gunnar caught Riddeal, his nemesis would escape. There was a time when revenge was the only thing he craved. Blood. Violence. Retribution.

  But that was before he had a mate to protect.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Natasha

  Two more Vrandarians lay on the floor of Elise’s chamber. Paula had cried out as the first one flew through the door and lunged at Natasha, only to have a staff crash down on the back of his head. The second one had been more cautious, circling Natasha, hoping to get ahold of her, only to receive punishment from both women. Paula hit him in the back of the head with a candlestick, a smack that impressed Natasha greatly. There was hope for this Maiden yet. The Vrandarian bent forward and grabbed the back of his head. Natasha reached forward and squeezed his neck, sending him to the floor in his own puddle of urine.

  Paula hurried to the door and closed it. “There are dozens of them. And they have guns. We can’t beat them all.”

  “I’m not worried about the Vrandarians. The other women, though. We need to go to them.”

  A shout came from just outside the door.

  “Get behind me, Paula.”

  Another Vrandarian flew through the door, not by his own power, but because he’d been thrown. With a sickening thud, the man landed in the middle of the room. Crumpled in a heap, his limbs at odd angles, he didn’t move.

  “Ouch.” Paula gave a half-smile and shrugged.

  Ragnar stepped into the doorway. Outside, in wolf-form, Gunnar made quick work of the Vrandarians, throwing them all into a small hut, a makeshift prison.

  Ragnar’s gaze fixed on Natasha. His expression looked dark and dangerous, but softened as he kept his atten
tion riveted to her.

  “Natasha,” he whispered.

  “Ragnar,” she breathed.

  Ragnar eyed the three, incapacitated Vrandarians. A look of surprise stole over his features. His lips parted. His eyes widened. The expression faded and his lips curved into a smile. He glanced at Paula, giving her a polite nod.

  “I’ve come to rescue my mate,” he said. “But it doesn’t look like she needs rescuing.”

  “Ragnar is your mate?” Paula asked, turning to her.

  “I am,” Ragnar said, before Natasha could answer. “Leave us.”

  Paula’s expression hardened. “This is Cresenta. The women of this outpost don’t take orders from men.”

  Ragnar’s gaze shifted back to Natasha. “Please allow me to speak privately with Natasha.”

  Paula crossed the room, passing him and pausing at the door. She nodded, smiling demurely. “Certainly, Lord Ragnar.”

  Natasha watched the exchange between Ragnar and Paula. Every part of her body responded to the sight of him standing there in her sister’s home. She wanted to rush to him. To throw herself in his arms, but she held back. Her sister might be in trouble and she needed to negotiate a deal with him. A deal that would ensure her rescue and safety. Her heart drummed in her chest.

  The noise outside diminished quickly. A lone ship could be heard leaving the planet. The screams from the Vrandarians were replaced by snarls and growls from a single, terrifying beast. Gunnar.

  “Elise is in the Fargian prison,” she whispered.

  Ragnar pressed his lips together in a grim line. “I promised you before that I would find her. That still stands.”

  “And then what?”

  “I won’t harm her. You have to know that.”

  “I’m not afraid of what you would do. I’m afraid of what Gunnar would do.”

  “I can talk to him. He’s reasonable.” Ragnar moved closer.

  A wash of relief swept over her. Her knees felt weak and a soft murmur slipped from her lips. “I believe you.”

  He used her momentary distraction to move closer.

  Out of instinct, she darted behind the table. She knew that the moment he touched her, any bargaining power she possessed would vanish.