Enslaved by a Viking

by Delilah Devlin

  Her eyes filled, but her lips snarled. “I don’t understand. I can help you.”

  Eirik bent toward her, locking glances. “We finish this. As Vikings. And Vikings don’t retreat.” He cupped her head and tilted it back. “Do what you must to get through this, Fatin. I will also.”

  She shook her head, the corners of her mouth turning downward. “Eirik . . .”

  “I do know you care. To set aside your plans for me . . .”

  “You believe me? You believe I would have helped you?”

  Eirik didn’t answer her. It didn’t matter. Fatin’s body shook inside his embrace. She was afraid. For him. It was enough.

  He kissed her, mashing his lips against hers, circling as he stroked his tongue into her mouth, tasted her for what might be the last time.

  When he set her down, she swayed, which made his lips twitch. He raised his gaze to Adem, who arched a brow. “You see now?”

  “I do.” Adem returned the sword, then gripped his forearm. “You do know you may not have a chance to warn them once you’re back inside.”

  “My men aren’t letting themselves get fat. If they have a chance to act, they will. You have only to tell them the Wolf sanctions this. Every man will be eager to join the battle.”

  “Good luck,” Adem said, then dropped his arm. “Fatin, come with me.”

  He still had to grasp her arm and pull her behind him, but she didn’t fight. Her steps were slowed because she gazed behind her at Eirik, as though unwilling to miss a single moment.

  And he knew just how she felt.

  Alone now, he stood in the center of the room as the door crashed open and uniformed PG guards flooded inside, bodies crouching, weapons raised as they sighted on him, then searched every corner.

  Eirik stood, his sword raised, the calm in the center of the storm that was about to erupt.

  Seventeen

  A board the Daedalus, Birget eyed the mishmash of fur-covered and black-uniformed men crowded into the ship’s hold. Her army. Or Adem’s, depending on whose history would be written.

  Adem had arrived at her ship at short time ago, striding up the gangway bold as he pleased, demanding entrance. She’d been caught off guard, her attention snagged by his strange appearance, too distracted to hear everything he’d said.

  Baraq let him aboard, then sent out her Vikings to provide covert cover, should the ferals Adem brought with him require it. They’d run aboard, under the cover of darkness, in pairs, darting inside. Baraq had only just returned after ensuring Adem and his men hadn’t been followed. Now both contingents stood by as Adem related what had happened and why he’d abandoned the cannery.

  One fact caught her attention. “Eirik remained behind?” she asked, eyeing the leopard-man and trying hard not to stare.

  Adem’s nod was curt. “It was his own choice. He sacrificed his freedom to ensure we would escape.”

  She grunted, impressed. “As he should. Against how many?”

  “I don’t know. But my lookouts said the cannery was swarming with PG security.”

  “Not enforcers?” Baraq asked.

  At Adem’s nod, she turned to Fatin, who sat tied to a chair. “Why would that be so?”

  Fatin’s expression didn’t hold her usual sullen scowl. She was white-faced, her lips trembling. She looked frightened for the first time, as well she should. Birget wasn’t convinced she didn’t have something to do with the raid on the warehouse. Neither was Adem.

  “If Aliyah discovered where Eirik was before the enforcers,” Fatin said, her voice small, “she would want to bring him in herself to save face. And to maintain custody.”

  “What will happen to him now?”

  Fatin’s eyes filled with tears. “She will want to make an example, as a warning to the other thralls, especially those who followed him. Likely, she’ll send him to the lists. He’ll fight or die in the arena.”

  Birget noted the other woman’s stilted speech, her dull eyes. “Adem thinks you led them to his headquarters.”

  Fatin raised her head. “Not knowingly. I was careful. I changed trams. I skirted the sector, by foot, before making my way there. I don’t know how such a large force could have followed me undetected.”

  Birget met Adem’s gaze. His face was taut, his expression without any pity. “I would know if she tells the truth. If she’s responsible, we have no further use for her.”

  Adem nodded. “Clear the bay.”

  Birget waved her own men out of the hold. Adem’s men followed. When it was just Adem, Baraq, and herself standing over Fatin, Baraq cut her free.

  “Strip,” Adem said. “We need your clothes.”

  Fatin’s face drained of what little color she had left, but she lifted her chin. She stood and slowly peeled away her trousers and the pretty silk shirt that had suffered through the escape, and which was now drenched with tunnel water and ripped. When she stood nude, she squared her shoulders and met Birget’s steady gaze, accusation in her dark eyes.

  Birget didn’t wince. Couldn’t show a moment’s remorse. Not even when Baraq aimed a glare her way, telling her silently to stop this.

  Despite the pallor beneath her burnished skin, pride burned in Fatin’s posture. Birget felt a moment’s regret that she couldn’t trust the Helio, that Fatin had made so many deplorable decisions. She had strength in her small frame, and courage.

  And she was achingly lovely. Slender and small-framed, warm bronze skin, dark oval nipples with perfectly beaded tips. Even her sex was pretty—neat and nude. A man would favor her looks. Seek to taste her exotic flavors.

  Birget dragged away her gaze, feeling ashamed for the other woman’s vulnerability.

  Adem picked up the clothing and pulled it through his hands, crushing it. When he was finished he shook his head. “Fatin, come here.”

  She stepped woodenly toward him, and he cupped her head, his fingers combing through her thick, dark hair, pulling at her ears to peer inside, opening her mouth, then smoothing his hands down her body to her toes.

  When still he found nothing, he came to his feet. “Spread your legs.”

  Fatin’s face screwed up into a terrible, anguished frown, which made Birget feel uneasy, squeamish for the indelicacy of the search.

  “Princess,” Baraq whispered harshly, “is this necessary?”

  Birget firmed her resolve and raised her hand to cut him off.

  “I swear there’s nothing for you to find,” Fatin said hoarsely, her gaze pleading with Adem.

  A tic pulsed at Adem’s square jaw. “I don’t want to do this. Truly. But they found us. If you weren’t followed, how did they track you? How can we be assured they won’t follow you here?”

  Fatin stomped her feet apart and gazed toward the far wall as Adem thrust his fingers inside her. “This isn’t any different than when I stood for inspection in the saray,” she said, bitterness strengthening her voice. “Except then, the men were only curious about how tight my cunt was, how well I’d squeeze around them.”

  “I mean you no harm, little one. But we have to know.”

  When he was done, he moved back and wiped his fingers on his thighs. He turned to Birget. “She’s clear.”

  Fatin snorted, but her mouth gave away her emotions. One corner trembled.

  “If it wasn’t her, then we have a bigger problem,” Baraq muttered.

  Birget gave a sharp nod, then turned a steady eye on Adem. “One of yours betrayed you. Are any unaccounted for?”

  “All my men are here. However, it’s possible that the driver who delivered Eirik to the warehouse might have been tracked through his vehicle’s onboard computer. That would explain it.”

  Fatin scoffed. “And you suspected that before you searched me?”

  His head swiveled toward her. His features were set, hard. “Like I said, we had to know.” Adem held out her clothes.

  Fatin pulled the soiled and wrinkled tunic over her head, then slid on the trousers. When she was clothed again, she tossed back her hai
r.

  Birget suppressed a smile at the deadly glare she gave to the leopard-man.

  Birget could hardly keep from staring at him herself. Baraq had told her about him, after he’d been released, and she’d seen many strange sights since she’d landed on this world, but the leopard was the most fascinating.

  He wore only trousers and boots. His torso was shaped like a man’s, but she wondered if the fine spotted down that covered those manly bulges also cloaked the masculine parts that were hidden by his clothing.

  “Shall I take off my trousers to indulge your curiosity?” Adem murmured.

  Birget’s gaze rose to meet his hard, unblinking stare. Heat crept across her cheeks. “I am sorry. I don’t mean to be impolite, but we haven’t anyone like you on our world.”

  “I shouldn’t exist,” Adem growled. “I’m fourth generation. My ancestors were born in a dish inside PG’s laboratories. The same place your Viking’s sperm will be mixed with Helio eggs to breed their next batch of atrocity. But while it will be human mated with human, they will treat the results the same. They will warehouse the children, test them, train them, and then one day unleash them on your world.”

  “Lord Dagr, Eirik’s brother, suspected that was the purpose. I thought he was insane. For anyone to scheme with that sort of patience . . .”

  “Patience? The creatures they will create, are creating now, won’t be allowed to grow according to nature. They have learned to quicken maturity. Your planet doesn’t have twenty-five years to prepare. Accelerated harvesting is their latest product.

  “Already Helios who’ve lost children can have them cloned and replaced within months. That same technology will be turned to grow an army.”

  “Dagr had heard this, but even my father didn’t believe it was possible.” She shot a glance at Baraq. “Were you ever going to mention this to me?”

  Baraq’s shoulders stiffened, and he stared straight ahead.

  Birget walked closer, anger building inside her. “Baraq? Helio! Did you know?”

  His jaw tensed. “I knew of the experiments, but I’ve been a ship’s security officer for some time. Those matters aren’t my concern.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I didn’t believe they could do it yet. And I wanted to spare you the added worry.”

  Anger boiled over. He’d wanted to spare her? Like some woman in need of gentle coddling. Had he learned nothing about her? “What? I am in command. Everything is my worry. You disappoint me. I thought I had your respect.”

  “You do, Princess.”

  She waved her hand, cutting him off again. “Join the others,” she said, her voice tight.

  Baraq clicked his heels and turned, striding away. She didn’t watch, instead tamping down useless, confusing emotions to stare at Fatin.

  In the other woman’s gaze, she saw compassion, which maddened her. She didn’t need the bounty hunter’s pity.

  “Adem,” she said, grinding her teeth, “tell me why we shouldn’t kill her.”

  Adem’s smile was thin, barely a curl at one corner of his mouth. Bitter. “Because I would have to tell her sister I stood by while she was murdered.”

  “Why do you care?”

  Adem grunted. “I shouldn’t. She’s more bird than human. I should eat her up and spit out the feathers.”

  Fatin snorted. “You still want her. How priceless. You had the means to save us from the Garden, and you let us go.”

  Adem’s hands curled into fists. “I wanted you both safe, fed, clothed,” he growled. “I had nothing.”

  Birget cocked her head, her gaze swinging from one to the other. “You know each other well?”

  Fatin glanced away in disgust. “We were children on the streets, in the slum sector.”

  “Where the half-breeds lived,” Adem added.

  “Our mothers had abandoned us or died. We roamed in packs. Like wild animals, until the enforcers had us rounded up. Without families, we should have been fostered out.”

  “Enslaved to human families, you mean,” Adem bit out. “To bring out to show their friends their new pets.”

  Fatin curled her lip. “When I was arrested for stealing, with my sister, we were auctioned to the Garden. But this one,” she said, waving a hand at Adem, “had long before found a way to make some money. He could have paid the man I robbed, and had us set free, but he let us go.”

  “I wanted you both safe.”

  “And like a man, you thought nothing of the fact we’d have to spread our legs for anyone willing to pay.” Fatin shivered with rage. “It’s just sex to you. Not important. Our pride meant nothing to you.”

  Adem’s jaw clamped shut.

  Birget shook her head. “That is it? This happened years ago, and still you hold a grudge?”

  Adem raised his chin. “When she earned her thrall-price, she came to me.”

  Fatin raked a hand through her wild hair. “He was angry that I had left my sister alone. We fought, but the fight turned . . .”

  Birget nodded. “You became lovers . . .”

  “Not for long. He loves her. But now he’s crossed a line he can’t erase. We both have.”

  Adem glanced away. “I liked you better when you were just a street thief, Fatin. You weren’t always such a selfish bitch. I thought I held that girl.”

  She bared her teeth in a feral grin. “You just wanted a taste of everything I’d learned inside those walls. Well, I don’t play those games anymore.”

  “You do with the Viking.”

  Birget’s gaze homed on Fatin. “What is he saying?”

  “Her and the one called Wolf,” Adem said, lifting his chin. “They cannot share a room without scratching away their clothes to mate.”

  Birget felt her face freeze. Eirik was the one they spoke of. Her future husband had slept with this dirty urchin.

  No matter that she’d taken her own lover; at least she hadn’t taken an animal to bed! “Again, tell me why I should not kill her?”

  Adem fisted his hands on his hips, then dropped his head between his shoulders. His black hair fanned forward. When his face tilted up, his steady gaze fell on Fatin. “You should not kill her because she’s not responsible for his recapture. Because she may still be of use. And because the longer she lives, the more she will suffer for her sins against you.”

  Birget’s small smile matched the one creeping across Adem’s mouth. “Yes, reason enough right there.” She dropped her glance to Fatin. “I will give you to Baraq. Somehow, I do not think he will disappoint me again. Should you betray us, he will kill you.”

  Once again, Eirik stood in the mouth of Hel. Another dingy cell in the bowels of the arena. Only this time, in addition to a barred door, he was chained, hands and feet in manacles, strong metal links running through loops in the walls and on the floor.

  More than simply restrained, because he had escaped once. His captor was taking no chances. And she’d left him naked, hoping to humiliate him, but he didn’t care. It was sweltering. Even the loin skirt would have felt too heavy.

  As before, he was being bathed by two wide-eyed girls who appeared too frightened to do more than dab at his skin before they left. Then Bethel arrived, her cheeks blushing this time to perform the obligatory milking.

  “No words of hope this time, little one?” he teased, trying to lighten her grim expression.

  Bethel’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “Do you know what will happen?”

  “Aliyah’s men said nothing. But I was warned by your friend what fate would befall me.”

  She glanced away, then firmed her chin. “They watch. I cannot give you what you prefer.”

  “Hands?”

  “I’ll be quick.”

  He nodded and braced apart his legs. Her small warm hands wrapped firmly around his shaft and began the rhythmic tug and pull.

  He cleared his throat. “Have you seen the others? Are they well?”

  “Privileges of the ground have been rescinded,” she w
hispered, not pausing as she built his arousal. “They are restricted to their quarters. But yes, all are well. This morning, Hakon said to tell you that something was afoot. That their furs and breastplates had been returned to them.”

  “They will be presented for the spectacle.”

  “To watch, no doubt.”

  “Should you have a chance for a private word, tell Hakon command is his.”

  Bethel’s lips quirked. “He’s already taken it. Said to tell you that.”

  Eirik smiled.

  Then she worked him in silence, and he let his mind roam. To Fatin as she’d appeared in Adem’s headquarters, her hair wild around her shoulders, her eyes wide with fear—for him.

  He hoped she hadn’t discovered a streak of sacrifice inside herself. Not yet. She would come through the trials ahead, stronger than before.

  He wished he would be there to witness it. No matter that an accident of birth made them incompatible in some fundamental ways, he couldn’t imagine a universe without her in it.

  “There is a chance you could win,” Bethel said, although her tone was riddled with doubt.

  “A chance?”

  “A normal man would have none, but you are stronger, larger. Surely you will be a match.”

  “I am a Viking, Bethel. And a Wolfskin on top of that. I do not intend to die. But if I do, I will not cower from my fate. I will meet it with my sword raised. My brother, my people, would expect no less.”

  Her manipulations quickened, her fist drumming on his cock until he bent his head to watch as she brought a beaker beneath him and caught the pearly ropes jetting from his balls.

  The door crashed open. The guard with the golden teeth ducked through it, then stood at attention as Aliyah swept inside.

  Bethel struggled to her feet. “Mistress, I am finished here.”

  “Leave us.” Aliyah was dressed in a long silk gown, this one a dark midnight blue. The back of it was pulled over her head like a cowl to hide her face. She tossed it back, and strode forward, slapping a short whip against her leg.

  Eirik schooled his face into a mask, unwilling to show her even an ounce of emotion.