by Jaid Black
Madalyn stilled. Her eyes widened. Under them?
She shivered, then quickly looked to Drake. Her sister’s face had gone rather pale for a woman so tan. She knew better than anybody that being taken down into such a remote, secret location didn’t bode well for their escape.
This wasn’t happening. It just couldn’t be happening.
Her heart beating like mad, Madalyn turned to dash away. Otar’s unyielding hands stopped her in her tracks before she could take one step.
“Help us!” Madalyn wailed. “Somebody hel—”
A callused palm flew to her mouth, covering it. “Shhh,” Otar told her, trying to calm her down. “All will be well.”
Madalyn raged against her subjugator with every bit of strength she could muster. She kicked him with her shins, buried her nails into his arms until she drew blood, and tried repeatedly to jerk away from him. It didn’t help. Nothing helped.
The next thing she knew, she was being hoisted up over Otar’s shoulder and carried toward the mountain.
“No!” she heard Drake scream. “Noooooo!”
The men carried the women through a hidden door, then the impenetrable boulder portal was forced shut behind them, chained and locked. As they were carried down the inside of a carved-out mountain, where their pleas for help would never be heard, Drake screamed like a banshee. Madalyn did the same, but from behind her captor’s powerful hand.
“KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN and your mouth shut,” Madalyn murmured to Drake. “Don’t get in any arguments. We need to pay close attention to everything around us so we know what we’re dealing with.”
“I never thought it would be you giving me survivalist advice,” Drake whispered back. She squeezed her hand. “But thanks, Maddie Mae. I’m big-time freaking out.”
So was Madalyn, but she kept that to herself. She was just grateful Otar had finally put her down and let her walk with her sister. Not that it was doing either of them a lick of good. It was pitch-black, and the only light sources were being emitted by the torches their captors were carrying. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t anything significant to see, anyway.
“Watch your footing, wenches,” Iiro commanded them. “’Tis tricky through here, lots of curves.”
Wenches. They’d been called that so many times in the past several hours that it was starting to sound normal. Where on earth had they learned their English?
So many questions and no answers. Madalyn needed to quickly put the puzzle pieces together so she and Drake could find a way home…wherever that was.
She had tried to find her place in Hollywood but had ended up feeling like an emotional shell. She had thought she was experiencing the real thing in Alaska, only to become a hostage. Madalyn dejectedly realized that she hadn’t had a real home since her mom and dad died. That was so long ago, she couldn’t remember what it felt like.
Her back straightened. She told herself to stop the self-pity. Anyplace where she was free was superior to being here, where she was a captive. As long as Otar controlled her, she would never find that elusive, magical thing called home. Hollywood might not have fit the bill, but at least she could still dream about it there.
“Ouch!”
Madalyn gasped as she tripped over a small rock. Luckily, she caught her footing before she fell face-first on the ground. Coming to a shaky halt, she stopped to rub her ankle. Otar, who had been in the rear lest they try to escape, quickly caught up to her.
“Are you injured?” he asked softly.
Something in his voice said he genuinely cared about the answer, which threw Madalyn for a loop. The expression in his eyes, partially illuminated by the flame of the torch he wielded, underscored the sincerity of his worry.
“No,” she reassured him. “I think I just bruised my ankle.”
“I will carry you.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
He didn’t look convinced, but thankfully, he let it slide. “Take my hand. I will guide you the rest of the way, or leastways until we reach light.”
Madalyn chewed on her bottom lip. She didn’t want the familiarity of hand-holding with him, but he would carry her if she refused him. Being toted around like a sack of potatoes was less familiar, but it was also more embarrassing, not to mention dehumanizing.
“You okay, sis?” she heard Drake whisper from somewhere in front of her.
“She is fine,” Otar answered for her. “I will care for her.”
Madalyn tensed up. She prayed that, for once, her little sister would keep her mouth shut. She subtly blew out a breath when she realized Drake was indeed biting her tongue.
“Take my hand,” Otar murmured.
She swallowed roughly as she looked down at his hand, which was at least twice the size of hers. His fingers were long and powerful. They looked like they could choke the life out of anyone, and her in particular.
You’re back to being a drama queen. You have every right to hate this man, but he hasn’t made one move to harm you. At least not yet…
Madalyn slid her hand into Otar’s grasp. He appeared to be placated, which was probably a good thing.
They walked that way together for another half hour or longer. Truthfully, she found herself glad for accepting his help. The terrain was getting rougher and began sloping steeply downhill.
A chorus of competing sounds reached Madalyn’s ears and she frowned trying to pick them apart. Cheers, whistles, voices. Lots of voices. Grinding metal. Animals. It sounded like…
Civilization?
Her teeth nervously sank into her lower lip. She recalled a reference Otar had made before that inferred there were more of his kind. What had he said again? Her pulse raced as she suddenly remembered.
Our people need more females.
Our people. As in, there were many, many more men like him in the place they were being steered toward. Oh, damn.
Light penetrated the darkness, signaling that the end of the journey was almost here. The sounds and smells grew closer, more pronounced.
Madalyn’s legs began to tremble, and she reminded herself of the need to stay calm. She couldn’t think rationally when she was worked up.
They rounded a final bend. The path suddenly ended and they were thrust out of the darkness…
And into a surreal place she’d never dreamt existed.
“What the…?” Drake muttered. “Holy shit.”
“Oh my God,” Madalyn whispered. Her heart began to race, her teeth to chatter. Her mouth worked up and down, but it took a long moment to get anything out. “What in the world is this place?”
Chapter
Nine
“’Tis called Lokitown,” Otar answered. “My home.”
Madalyn heard him speaking, but nothing computed. She was too busy staring, unable to believe what she was seeing. This place couldn’t be real…it just couldn’t be.
A few years ago, Madalyn had visited the underground barricade Drake called home. She had thought that tiny place in Utah was an elaborate little getup. The science facility wasn’t even in the same ballpark as this fortress. If Drake’s open-jawed expression was anything to go by, she was making the same comparison.
The inside of the mountain had been carved out for as high up as the eye could see. In the place of its guts a huge civilization had been erected, a culture that was as advanced in appearance as it was archaic.
The people dressed like actors in a movie that had been set in medieval times. Animals roamed about, stopping to eat hay and oats that were scattered around on the floor, further bringing to mind life in antiquity.
In striking contrast to the Old World atmosphere, there were also modern, if crude, conveniences. Elevators, computer-generated voices speaking in that odd tongue, and a highly advanced machine that grew fruit and vegetables as though it were a living womb.
Unbelievable.
Madalyn blinked. It took her a minute to grasp the full picture, to understand what it was she was staring at. In essence, she was watching people
shop at their version of a mall.
Men and women walked hand in hand, laughing and happy. The males were dressed like ancient Vikings, the females like sex kittens. They flitted from primitive store to primitive store, their demeanors festive. Fruits and vegetables here, odd jewelry and clothing there.
“What is going on?” Drake rasped out. “How could a place like this exist without somebody knowing about it?”
“There are more such bartering colonies on different levels of New Sweden,” Otar announced. “This is one of the favored of my people.”
“New Sweden?” Madalyn dragged her dumbfounded gaze away and up to her captor. “You are all Swedish, then?”
“Vikings.”
She swallowed. “The Vikings have been dead for eons.”
“Apparently not.”
“Great,” Drake snarled. “Nothing like being captured by retro rapists and pillagers to pep up a slow day.”
Madalyn didn’t know what to say to that. She also didn’t know how much longer she could stand up. Her belly was buzzing with butterflies and her legs felt as rubbery as wet noodles.
Thankfully, Otar said, taking her by the elbow, “You may ask questions of your new home later. Right now you need to rest.”
“DID YOU HEAR what that bastard said to you?” Drake asked. She sounded as hysterical as Madalyn felt. “He said, and I quote, ‘You may ask questions of your new home later.’ Your new home. Hells bells, Maddie Mae! What do we do?”
She wished she knew. Right now she was so dazed she could barely recall her own name.
Madalyn frowned as she tucked a golden-red curl behind an ear. “We’ve got to think, Drake, and we’ve got to do it fast. There’s no telling how long they’ll let us stay together.”
Drake’s eyes were unblinking. “For all we know they might separate us for good, never to lay eyes on each other again.”
Fear lanced through Madalyn. She hadn’t thought of that possibility, but it was a real one. Especially considering the fact they wanted the camera. It was the first thing Otar had asked for when they’d arrived at this room.
Their captors believed that either Madalyn or Drake had the digital camera hidden in their clothes, but were refusing to hand it over. Otar had become irate when Madalyn swore to him that the camera was not with them. She had told him part of the truth—that it was back at her cabin—but hadn’t revealed its precise location.
“What if they separate us until we tell them where to find the digital?” Madalyn asked. “I think we should tell them rather than be separated.”
“No way!”
Madalyn huffed. “You said yourself that nobody would even realize their images were in that photograph unless they knew to look.”
“Hopefully CACW will figure it out.”
“And if they don’t?”
Drake sighed and glanced away. “I don’t know.”
Madalyn dropped the subject for the time being. Her gaze darted about the tiny room they were locked in.
It was small and sparse, but the bed was comfortable and the food that had been left for them was tasty. At first, Drake had been afraid to eat it. Madalyn had been too hungry to care.
Other than the bed, there wasn’t much more in the room. A wooden chest that doubled as a nightstand was pushed up against one side of the bed and a lamp was on the other side.
Otar, Iiro, and Luukas had been gone for over an hour, but Madalyn deeply suspected that at least Otar and Iiro would return soon. She’d have to be a raging moron to not realize that Otar wanted her, and she’d seen Iiro gaze lustfully at Drake more than a few times. Either that or he’d been fantasizing about ways to shut her up.
She began to pace. Their time alone together could be very limited.
“Do you know what I think?” Drake asked, sitting up on the bed.
“What?”
“I think there are only two reasonable explanations for who these psychos are.”
Madalyn stopped to listen. “Go on,” she breathed out.
Drake narrowed her eyes, which meant she was very serious. “The first possibility is that Big Brother runs this show, and these people brought us here to turn us into those medieval Stepford Wives we saw in that shopping place.”
“That doesn’t seem very plausible.” Just once, could her sister not have a conspiracy theory that involved the government or aliens as an explanation?
“I don’t think so, either,” Drake agreed. “And that leaves only one conclusion.” She waved a hand toward the door. “These weirdos are aliens.”
Apparently, she couldn’t. “Drake—”
“I know how crazy it sounds, Maddie Mae, but think about it for a second. If you don’t see my rationale, then I’ll explain it to you.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
Drake began checking off the most salient points on her hand. She raised her first finger. “The men here are wayyy taller than normal. And not just one or two of them, but every single man we’ve encountered.” Another finger. “None of the males ever show emotion. Even when they yell at you, they seem to do it à la Leonard Nimoy’s Spock.”
“Hmmm.”
Finger three. “It’s impossible for a race of humans to live in such an elaborate civilization without anybody finding out about it.”
“How do we know the American government doesn’t know about this place?”
She waved that theory away. “Let us just say that CACW knows all.”
Madalyn rolled her eyes. “Good grief, Drake, stop it already! These people aren’t Big Brother and they aren’t aliens, either. They are a bunch of throwbacks that mean to keep us as some sort of sexual chattel.” She threw up her arms. “I wish they were aliens! Right now getting my brains sucked out through a straw by little green men sounds more palatable than what we both know is coming!”
Drake’s gaze fell to the floor. She looked more the scared, lost little girl than the together woman she typically was.
“I’m sorry I yelled.” Madalyn forced a smile and tried not to cry, though her voice shook a little. “I’m just terribly scared.”
“Me, too.”
She walked over to the bed and sat down next to her sister. “One way or another, we’ll get through this. I promise.”
“But how?”
“I don’t know, but I do know this…”
Drake glanced over to her. “Yeah?”
“Promise me, if you ever get the chance, you will run. Even if it means leaving me behind.”
Drake’s eyes rounded. “Maddie—”
“It might be our only hope,” Madalyn said patiently, but with conviction. “One of us has to break free and get help.” She searched her sister’s gaze. “Promise me?” she whispered.
Drake stared at her through big eyes. “I promise,” she whispered back.
Madalyn nodded. “Hopefully it won’t come to that, honey. Maybe we’ll get lucky and we can escape together.”
“God, I hope so.”
“Me, too.”
They were quiet for a long while as they sat on the bed together, lost in thought. Madalyn knew the best way to escape was to do the least desirable thing—become familiar with the layout of the entire underground colony.
“Maddie Mae?”
“Yes, Drake?”
“Did you notice how blue Iiro’s eyes are?”
“No.”
“I did. They’re too blue.” Her eyes narrowed as she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Alien blue.”
Madalyn sighed. “You’re being a paranoid schizophrenic again.”
“In the words of a great philosopher, ‘Just because you’re paranoid, it doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you.’ ”
“Which philosopher?”
“Okay, so I read it on a bumper sticker.” She splayed her hands. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”
HIS JAW TIGHT AND MUSCLES TENSE, Otar vigorously pumped his cock with his hand. Lying on his bed, he fantasized about storming into Madalyn’s bedchamber an
d having his wicked way with her wee body.
’Twas the same fantasy he’d possessed of her for years. The difference now was Madalyn was really here, just a few levels away.
Wanting to give her some time to come to terms with all that had transpired this day, he had taken Madalyn and her sister to Otrygg’s dwelling and locked them into a spare bedchamber where they could be alone.
On the morrow, after she’d had time to calm down, Otar would move her into his own dwelling. He feared ’twould never live up to what she was accustomed to, but he had to have her regardless.
Otar had told himself he would only wed after the Revolution, assuming he survived it. Had he not encountered Madalyn, he would have held true to his word. But, Madalyn…
If he didn’t marry her, then by the laws of New Sweden, another warrior would be permitted to. The thought of any man touching her was enough to make him spit nails.
Putting those thoughts away for the moment, Otar picked up the speed of his masturbation. He moaned as he pretended it was Madalyn’s warm, wet pussy milking his shaft.
He came on a loud groan, his hot seed spurting all over his hand and belly. Opening his eyes and steadying his breathing, he reached for a wet rag to clean himself with.
Afterward, he stood up and took a thorough look around his home. He frowned.
Madalyn, accustomed to the finer things in life, would never take a liking to this tiny hole-in-the-wall. Once, many years ago, Otar had lived in a vast dwelling, with every privilege available his for the taking.
But the palatial holding that was rightfully his upon his sire’s death had been confiscated the day his cousin came into power. Otar’s ancestral home had been gifted to one of Toki’s favored lords, a sadistic arse named Nothrum.
Otar’s nostrils flared. One day very soon he would reclaim his dwelling.
Mayhap then he would be deserving of Madalyn.
Chapter
Ten
“I am more than a little curious to find out what transpired aboveground.” Nikolas Ericsson’s expression was unreadable as he motioned for Otar to follow him. After checking that his men were busy at work in the grindstone, he turned to give Otar his full attention. “The rumormongers, namely Old Myria, are abuzz.”