SCAR (LOST CREEK SHIFTERS NOVELLAS Book 2)

by Samantha Leal

  “That seems a waste.” he said.

  “I do not want anything to do with that - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - .”

  Alrek had no idea what she was saying, but he gathered from her tone of voice and expression that it wasn’t anything nice. Pulling Natalie back into his arms, he started petting her again. She nuzzled back into him, trembling with a combination of anger and despair. It was saddening to see her so distressed, but he was more pleased. If there was no husband or betrothed, he could do whatever he wanted.

  It also put an idea into his head. “Did your betrothed send you here? To punish you?”

  Natalie snorted. “If he has that power, I am a sow with piglets.”

  “You got here somehow,” he pointed out.

  “I keep hope this is a dream that I will wake up from soon,” she muttered.

  Alrek frowned. Taking her chin in one hand, he tilted her face up to look at his. Before Natalie could even gasp, his lips sank down over hers.

  She had expected him to kiss her roughly, to take her mouth by force, but he was surprisingly gentle. It was the soft, tender kiss of someone trying to give comfort. And it did. Natalie slowly closed her eyes, and he pulled her a little closer.

  When she didn’t resist him, Alrek pushed a little farther. He teased her lips with his tongue, until she sighed against him, and then he pulled away. Natalie blinked, and to Alrek’s delight, she looked a little puzzled that he had stopped.

  “Do dreams do that?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

  Natalie swallowed. “I usually wake up before reaching the good part.”

  Now it was Alrek’s turn to snort. Picking her up by the waist, he set her on her feet. “You will stay here. For now.” Standing up, he crossed to one of the chests along the wall and pulled it open. “Now take your clothes off.”

  “What?” It was more of a squeal than a word. When Alrek turned, Natalie was looking at him in horror, her face bright red.

  “You are covered in mud,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Take your clothes off.”

  “But—what are you going to—”

  Looking at her, the way she stared at him like he was some kind of monster, understanding dawned in Alrek’s mind.

  “You think I’m going to force you into my bed, don’t you?” he said, crossing his arms. Natalie looked away, but didn’t deny it. “Well, you can relax. I prefer my women not terrified. Now take off your clothes.”

  Alrek turned back to his chest, and began sorting through his spare clothes. There wasn’t a woman’s garment in the entire settlement, and there wouldn’t be until their comrades arrived in a few weeks with more settlers, or someone went upriver to trade with the Gaels. A man’s tunic would have to do for now. He selected a bright red under tunic of soft wool, woven by his sister back north. It would be shapeless, but it would be warm.

  When he turned around, Natalie was still staring at him, fully clothed. Alrek frowned at her.

  “If you do not wish to sleep on the floor with no blanket, change your clothes.” He tossed the tunic across the room, and she caught it, scowling at him.

  She took her shoes off first, laced boots of unfamiliar construction, then the black, quilted sleeveless tunic. To Alrek’s fascination, she opened the garment by taking hold of a tab at the top and pulling it down. The material split like a piece of paper being ripped. He picked it up from where she’d dropped it, experimentally pulling the tab back and forth.

  When he looked up again, she’d taken off her under tunic. She was wearing the strangest breast band he’d ever seen, two pockets put together to hold the breasts, with shoulder straps.

  “Strange thing,” he said, reaching out and hooking a finger under one strap. To Alrek’s amazement, Natalie squeaked and slapped his hand away.

  “Are you a child?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “No. I am a man, and you are in my house,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. Natalie continued to scowl at him, but she took the hint and kept her mouth shut.

  To Alrek’s disappointment, she put the red under tunic on over the breast band, then pulled her arms inside the garment to remove her trousers hidden from his view. That was even odder than the breast band, a woman wearing trousers.

  Her muddy clothes now removed, Natalie stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room, trying to tug the long sleeves of the under tunic up over her hands and make them stay there. Alrek took a couple of bronze pins from a smaller chest.

  “Hold still.” One at a time, he pulled the cuffs tight around her wrists, pinning them in place.

  Natalie stood still, watching him. She couldn’t decide what to make of this man. He kept alternating between terrifying her and treating her with surprising gentleness. She was dependent on his mercy, and she couldn’t tell if he was dangerous or not. Both sleeves pinned, he stepped back, looking her up and down.

  “You look ridiculous,” he said, a smirk just teasing the corners of his mouth. Natalie scowled again.

  Okay, add being rude to the list.

  They were interrupted by an enormous long-haired cat slinking into the house. After giving Natalie an owl-eyed stare, she disappeared under the bed. A chorus of tiny mews emerged from the darkness. Alrek groaned.

  “That thrice-cursed cat,” he said, “has had her kits under my bed, and every time I move them, she puts them back.”

  Alrek forgotten, Natalie instantly crossed to the bed and sank down on hands and knees, peering underneath. More mews greeted her. One small kitten scampered out, a wispy-furred tortoise-shell, and sniffed her. While Alrek watched in wonderment, Natalie picked up the kitten and held it to her face, cooing in some unknown tongue. It wiggled around in her grip, meowing loudly and then alternately licking and biting her fingers. He found himself smiling as he watched. She was actually smiling, a wide, genuine smile, untainted by fear or confusion.

  “I wish I had known all it took to stop your crying was cats,” he said drily.

  Natalie looked up at him, scowling over the kitten. “Shut up.”

  Alrek laughed and sat down next to her, fishing another kit out from under the bed.

  Chapter 4

  The man peering between the door and the doorframe shook his head in disgust. There he was, Alrek, a Norse warrior and leader, playing with kittens like a child. That woman was turning him into a simpleton. Api angrily turned away from the pathetic scene and stomped into the main hall.

  The settlement had not yet split into individual households—that would happen this summer when more men and women arrived, and planned marriages between some of the Norse and the Gaels would take place, but for now, the men slept and ate communally. Api approached the fire and sat down, accepting a flagon of beer with an even more surly attitude than usual.

  “What is your problem, Api? Did one of the dogs bite your arse?” That was Geirr, the cook. Api had always suspected Geirr didn’t like him, he liked Geirr even less in return.

  “Our illustrious leader,” Api said, glaring at Geirr, “is being turned into a gibbering fool by that woman and her magics.”

  “What makes you say that?” Hattr asked, raising an eyebrow over his drink. “He probably just wants to fuck her. You saw that pretty face.”

  Hattr didn’t like him, either. Api scowled. “I also saw her make light brighter than the sun shine from nowhere. Alrek took her into his house, and now he is sitting on the floor with her, playing with kits.”

  That sparked surprised murmurs around the fire. Alrek was not the sort of man one usually associated with baby animals. His repeated attempts to rid himself of the old she-cat and her kittens was a running joke amongst the men, whenever Alrek was out of earshot.

  “It would take some kind of trickery to make him act so,” Api insisted.

  “Oh, I can think of a few reasons to play at making a woman happy,” Hattr said, smirking.

  “Who trusts a man who bends so easily to her will to lead people?” Api said, ignoring him. “It’s ridiculous.
Who knows what she might convince him to do.”

  “Have a problem with Alrek’s decisions, do ye?” Banki loomed out of the shadows. He was a highly skilled loomer, being a massive bear of a man with an almost as massive blonde beard, streaked with gray.

  Api looked a little ashamed, but didn’t back down.

  “Alrek is in there letting that magic-worker wrap him around her finger. I saw her tricking him with that device, the one that makes lights. Mark my words, Alrek is a fool and that woman is trouble.”

  Banki stared him down. He actually agreed with Api, as much as it pained him to agree with him on anything, but he wasn’t going to stand for him stirring up bad feeling in the men.

  “You are saying you distrust his judgment?” he said, arching a bushy eyebrow. Api broke his gaze, shifting his eyes to the floor. “Alrek is correct in being cautious. You’ve seen her powers. If she has such powerful magic, making her our ally may give us an advantage should the Gaels turn on us. If not, well, we can deal with her.”

  “It will be hard to deal with her when Alrek is thinking with his cock,” Api muttered.

  Banki snorted. “I’d like to see the woman who can make a fool of him. Trust me, it won’t be a cowering little slip of a thing like that. Now try getting this place built up enough to get a woman of your own, instead of bitching every time someone else has one to warm their bed.”

  The men erupted into laughter, and Api sat back red faced. If he still had anything to say, he wouldn’t say it under Banki’s eye. The large man snorted and got his bread, sitting down amongst the other men. He hadn’t actually intended to eat in the hall, but now he would just to make Api uncomfortable.

  After a while, the men turned from the fire, stepping out into the night, seeking their beds. Banki, however, still had a few things to do. The door of Alrek’s dwelling was closed, and smoke rose from the vent. Even if he hadn’t had a task to complete, they needed to talk.

  He stepped into the room and found Alrek sitting at the table, eating a small piece of bread as he drank his beer. The woman seemed to have disappeared, until he noticed her blonde hair trailing out from the furs of Alrek’s bed.

  “Bedded her already, have you?” Banki raised an eyebrow.

  Alrek shook his head. “She started crying, drank half a measure of beer, played with those blasted kittens, and fell asleep.”

  “And you put her in your bed?” Banki said.

  “Where else should I put her?”

  “The floor?” The woman rolled over, and Banki looked a little closer. “Is that your tunic she’s wearing?”

  “Her own clothes are filthy. You saw her. Covered in mud.”

  “You treat her gently.”

  Alrek grunted. “I’ve a mind to bed her, but not tonight.”

  Banki began to wonder if the woman had addled his brains.

  “I brought the rest of her things.” He dropped a sack on the table. “The things she dropped in the field.”

  Alrek nodded. “Did you know,” he said, putting his flagon down, “that she speaks Norse? Very badly, and you have to talk like she’s deaf, but she does understand.”

  Banki’s eyebrows shot up. “Were you able to learn anything from her? Where did she come from?”

  At that question, Alrek took up his beer again and took a long drink.

  “She insists that she is human, not Elf or Dwarf or who knows what, and she said that she’s from 1100 years in the future,” he said flatly.

  “I see. So you have found a madwoman.”

  “I have considered that. I think it more likely she comes from another world where man lives, but does not understand how she got here. She is very confused.”

  “You would give credence to anything she says?”

  Alrek looked up at Banki, frowning.

  “You cannot deny that she has strange magics with her. You saw those lights yourself. I cannot decide if she’s a madwoman or one of the Æsir themselves.”

  Alrek shook his head, wonderingly. “She has this thing, this phone—” He leaned down to where the phone still lay on the floor and snatched it up. “I don’t know how it works, but she says it’s a toy. Everyone in her country has one.”

  Alrek twiddled his fingers on the glass until he managed to light it up, but he couldn’t make it show him the thing with flying vegetables.

  “She made it do this thing before where it made vegetables and you had to kill them.”

  Banki stared at him, mouth open.

  “Api was right.” he said, shaking his head. “That woman has robbed you of your wits.”

  Alrek snorted. “She will show you tomorrow. The more pressing question is what we are going to do with her.”

  “Unless you want to keep her yourself, I suggest we get rid of her.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not throwing her out to the wolves.”

  Banki leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “The men think she’s using you. Making you think with your balls and not your brain.”

  “Yes, I love it when women sit in my lap and go into hysterics,” Alrek said drily. “Nothing makes me harder.”

  “Why did you decide to let her live?” Banki asked. To his surprise, Alrek thought a long time before answering.

  “I wanted to see what she looked like when she wasn’t frightened.” He shook his head, sighing. “I may be thinking with my balls, but it’s through no magic of hers. She’s harmless. That, I’m sure of.”

  “You’ve taken a liking to her, then?”

  Alrek looked up at Banki, his eyes glinting seriously.

  “Banki, you are not just my second in command. You are also my friend. I have never hidden anything from you.”

  Banki nodded slowly.

  “I have taken a liking to her, and I want to keep her. If she does not prove dangerous, I will have her join my household.”

  “Why not find her people and return her?” Banki asked. Alrek stood, crossing to where Natalie’s clothes lay piled on the floor.

  “Banki, look at these garments.” He picked up the quilted tunic, thrusting it into Banki’s hands. “Have you ever seen a material like this in your life? Or this?” Now he grabbed the strange breast band, which she’d taken off before sleeping, and stretched it back and forth. “Look at it. It’s slicker than silk and it stretches like bread dough.”

  Banki fiddled the tunic in his hands. The texture was like nothing he’d ever felt before, woven, yet… unreal. The firelight gleamed strongly on its surface, as though it were some coal-black cloth of gold.

  “This… is strange,” he admitted.

  “No woman of earth wove that cloth,” Alrek said. “Wherever she comes from, it is not of Midgard. I doubt we can return her to her home.”

  “Unless her fellows come for her,” Banki said.

  “And then where will we be when we must tell them we turned her out? My logic stands.” Alrek shook his head. “We do not know enough about her to know what risks she brings.”

  “You don’t know what risks taking her to your bed brings.” Banki pointed out.

  “Then we will learn more about her,” Alrek said. “When she’s proven harmless, I can bed her as much as I please.”

  A patch of brown on the bed stirred and hopped to the floor, revealing itself to actually be a well camouflaged kitten.

  Banki raised his eyebrows. “Kits in the bed, too?”

  “They keep her calm,” Alrek said evasively.

  Banki sighed deeply.

  “I will take your word that she is harmless, but be on your guard. Api was spying upon you tonight, and he needs no more fodder to challenge your leadership.”

  Alrek instantly became serious.

  “Do you think he would really act against me?” he asked. Alrek lead the settlement well, and had earned his position. Api was older than him—the only man older than him—and he did not appreciate following the orders of a younger man. He had always grumbled, but if he went farther than that…

  “He
spoke against you more openly than I’ve ever heard him do. Be on your guard,” Banki repeated.

  Alrek nodded, and with a clap on the shoulder, his friend left. Returning to his beer, he dropped into his chair and fumed.

  Api? Spying on him? Spying on her? What right had he, or any of them for that matter, to care if he spent time with a woman? Just because he enjoyed her, which he did, it did not mean he had lost all the thoughts in his head.

  Api would find himself with a hard days’ work tomorrow.

  Alrek drained his flagon and stood. Spreading the coals out evenly, he stacked new wood in the fireplace and pulled ashes around it to slowly burn overnight. That done, he stripped down into his own under tunic and eased into bed behind Natalie. If she woke in the night, she’d probably beat him, but he had no intention of sleeping on the floor. She would just have to get used to it.

  It occurred to him, as he was falling asleep, that he no longer cared much that the woman was frequently disrespectful.

  Chapter 5

  When Natalie awoke, the room was empty. A green over tunic had been placed beside the bed, along with a band-woven belt in yellow and red. A piece of flat bread sat on top of them. Groaning, she pulled the furs back over her head.

  It would appear she was still in a 10tth century Viking settlement.

  After opening and closing her eyes a few times, hoping that, eventually, she would find herself back in her bed at the hostel, she sat up. She might as well get on with it. Moving the piece of bread to the table, she picked up the tunic and pulled it on, then hitched both under and upper tunics up to belt them around her waist. The end result was rather puffy and undoubtedly far from flattering.

  At least Alrek had provided her with clothes. Even after a night’s sleep, in which nothing had happened, she didn’t know what to make of him. She was dependent on his kindness for everything, and he was kind. It didn’t take years of study for her to realize Alrek wasn’t obligated to let her into the village at all, much less take her into his own home and put her in his own bed. Oh, he wanted to have sex with her, that was obvious enough, but he still behaved himself. Natalie wanted to trust him, not just because she needed to believe her rescuer was a good man, but because she wanted to enjoy his attention. He was a surprisingly good kisser.