Deep, Dark & Dangerous

by Jaid Black

  “I can’t begin to imagine how difficult this is for you,” Agata said softly. “As wretched as Shanty Row is, I’d much rather be with the devil I know than the one I don’t.”

  “Exactly!” Madalyn said, spreading her hands. “It might not be the most ideal situation, but it’s still familiar to you.”

  Annikki clucked her tongue. “I have seen fifty and four years and many an Outsider bride in my lifetime. Every last one is possessed of the same mind-set when first they arrive.”

  Otar watched Madalyn chew on her bottom lip. Gods, he wanted her to accept life here—to at least give it a fair chance.

  “But I’ll tell you something,” Annikki continued, raising a finger. “All of those wenches are happy now, their lives bliss. The only difference between them and you, daughter, is time. They have come to terms with the will of the gods, and you have not.”

  Madalyn seemed to really be listening. Otar wanted to let his mother continue, for she seemed to be faring far better at changing his wife’s mind than he had. But he also realized ’twas not his mother’s responsibility; ’twas his own.

  Another thing Otar noticed was that Madalyn didn’t seem put off by his mother and sister, even though she now knew they were undesirables. Would her kindness extend to him, as well?

  Clearing his throat, Otar stepped into the hut. As always, his mother and sister greeted him with smiles. Glancing toward Madalyn, he awaited her reaction. Her expression unreadable, it felt nigh unto forever before she spoke.

  Her lips curved into a warm smile. “Welcome home,” Madalyn said, her gaze searching his. “Did you have a good day?”

  Otar was too relieved to speak. It took him a moment to recover. “Aye.” He scratched his chin. “’Twas passing fair.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  “And yours?”

  “It was pleasant. Your mother and sister are wonderful.”

  He wanted to ask about her aspiration to perform plays in Lokitown, but if he did so they would know he’d been listening at the door. “I should bathe before the evening repast,” Otar announced.

  “Aye,” Annikki agreed. “Agata and I shall go fetch the food and bring it over anon. Or would you two prefer to eat next door?”

  Otar looked to Madalyn, his expression inquiring.

  “Next door would be great,” his wife answered. “I could do with a change in scenery, even if it’s only a few feet away.”

  At Otar’s nod, Annikki motioned for Madalyn to follow her. “You know where to find us, son,” she said over her shoulder while heading toward the connecting door.

  Madalyn stopped at the door and glanced back, her gaze finding his. She stared at him for a suspenseful moment, then blinked and walked away. Otar stood gazing after his wife long after the door shut behind her.

  Chapter

  Twenty

  “Mayday! Mayday! I’m calling in a one-niner-niner! Hello? I’ve got a one-niner-niner!”

  “Uh…sorry, but I’m new. What’s a one-niner-niner? Hang on and I’ll look it up in the CACW manual.”

  Drake tore the mobile phone away from her ear and stared at it like it had sprouted horns. Either Big Brother had taken over CACW headquarters, or Chaz Thorton, the secret facility’s director, was letting one of his dopehead friends answer the phones again.

  “Nope,” the disembodied voice continued over the phone line. He inhaled deeply, taking a drag off what was presumably an illegal cigarette. “I don’t see nothin’ about a one-niner-niner. You better explain it to me.”

  Drake blinked. “I’ve been kidnapped with my sister, forced to marry an alien—or a man with an inhuman ability to sexually intrigue hapless women—and then I escaped. Now I need help.”

  “Weird! Are his eyes too blue?”

  She nodded grimly. “Unfortunately so.”

  Another inhale. “I read a story like that in the tabloids yesterday. Some chick in Arkansas gave birth to a fork-tongued half-breed. You can guess what color the baby’s eyes are.”

  Drake whimpered. She didn’t need to hear this on the heels of having thrown herself at Iiro like a possessed slut on speed.

  “Listen! I don’t have time to swap field stories. Right now I need help. I’m not out of danger yet and my sister is still a captive.”

  Silence.

  “Hello?” Drake frowned. “Mayday! Hello?”

  The sound of faint snoring reached her ears. Her jaw dropped. Preparing to screech into the CACW-issued mobile, she saved her breath when a telltale buzzing sound ensued.

  The connection was dead. She swallowed roughly, fear lancing through her.

  Baaaaaaaa. Baaaaaa. Baaaaaaaaaa.

  Drake grunted at Victoria and Thor. Uncertain of what to do with the goats upon her arrival, she’d let them come into the log cabin with her. Spotting some apples that had been set on Madalyn’s kitchen counter, she tossed them over to the duo, then began to pace.

  She didn’t know what to do, where to go, or who to turn to for help. She had tried to alert CACW several times since she’d made it here an hour ago, but each attempt had been met with failure. She’d thought the heavens had answered her prayers when she finally heard another voice on the line. Wrong.

  Think, Drake, think! Iiro is going to come looking for you. You’ve got to leave this place.

  But where should she run to?

  There wasn’t time to think. There was time to snatch the camera from its hiding place and run like the devil was chasing her. With Iiro tracking her scent, the analogy wasn’t too far off base.

  There was something about that damn man, some potent poison he must give off. Only a toxic amount of alien pheromone could have caused her to behave the way she did. She frowned, recalling that she’d rode him more aggressively than the Lone Ranger had galloped on Silver.

  Hoisting up the floorboard, Drake snatched the camera out of its hiding place. Setting the board back in place, she stood up and barreled toward the front door.

  Baaaaaa. Baaaaaaa.

  Jarring herself to a stop, she looked at the goats. She muttered under her breath, figuring the pheromone had also made her a sap.

  “Let’s go,” she said dejectedly, sighing. “We’ve got a one-niner-niner.”

  Her eyebrows rose when Victoria and Thor baaaéd and followed. At least somebody understood CACW code.

  Chapter

  Twenty-one

  The days that followed were routine in structure but far from ordinary in practice. Madalyn spent much of her time with Annikki and Agata, practicing the play they hoped to put on in the alehouse very soon. She spent her mornings and evenings talking to Otar, getting to know him.

  The nights were Otar’s, too. He held her until she fell asleep or believed she’d fallen asleep. More than once Madalyn had feigned a deep slumber while he played with her nipples and softly worked her body into a fever pitch. It took all of her strength not to turn to him and beg him to finish what he’d started. Not just because he’d aroused her, but because along with that arousal, a trust and friendship were blooming.

  Hurry up and rescue me, Drake. I’m falling for these people and I’m falling hard.

  “’Tis your scene here, Mama,” Agata told Annikki, breaking Madalyn from her reverie. “This is where Hilda admits her love for Joonas.”

  Madalyn grinned as Annikki took the small stage they’d erected. As she’d wanted, Otar’s mother was the fetching widow coveted by so many warriors.

  Annikki was a natural. Madalyn loved to watch her perform. She would have made millions above the ground with her wispy, blond good looks and dramatic presence.

  “I suppose I’ll have to play the part of Joonas for now,” Madalyn said, walking toward Annikki. “We still have to find some male actors.”

  “I believe I would make the best Joonas.”

  The women turned at the sound of the male voice. A strong, tall, older Viking man stood by the door of the hut. A very good-looking man, he possessed an exceedingly powerful build. His gaze never s
trayed from Otar’s mother.

  “Nay, you would not,” Annikki said, rolling her eyes. “Do we need the part of a dunce, I will be certain to inform you.”

  Madalyn’s eyes widened. She’d never heard Annikki be so rude to anyone.

  “Mama,” Agata bit out, her voice chiding, “do not be so churlish to Vardo.”

  Vardo looked more amused than offended. “Ah ’tis fine, Agata. I am used to your mother’s vulgar ways,” he quipped back. He held a hand over his heart. “’Tis why I love her so.”

  Annikki frowned. “I am not vulgar. Now get the hell out of here.”

  Madalyn all but choked. Vardo did nothing but laugh. She got the feeling that they’d known each other a long time, and had been playing cat and mouse for just as long.

  Vardo clucked his tongue. “I did not come here today to exchange barbs with you, wench. Mayhap on the morrow I will come back for that.”

  “Joyous news indeed,” Annikki said sarcastically. “Then why are you here? Tell me so you can leave.”

  “To meet Otar’s new bride, of course.”

  “How unfortunate for my daughter-within-the-law.”

  “Mama,” Agata scolded. “Mind your tongue.” She smiled up at the big man who was obviously head over heels in love with Annikki despite her attempts to thwart him. “Vardo, this is Madalyn. Madalyn, meet Vardo. Vardo is much like an uncle to my brother and me. He was our sire’s best friend from childhood until his unfortunate death.”

  Madalyn walked over to greet him with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Stopping midbow, Vardo’s eyes widened as he got a good look at Madalyn’s face. Grinning, he shook his head and chuckled. “I see why he wed you. You look like Victoria.”

  “Victoria?” Annikki said. “Otar knows naught of a Victoria. Do not attempt to compare her to another wench!”

  “I did not mean insult. ’Tis sorry I am—”

  “It’s all right,” Madalyn told them both. She sighed, then admitted, “He’s not comparing me. I am Victoria. I mean, I’m the woman who played Victoria in the movie he’s referring to.”

  Vardo swallowed. “You are Victoria?” He glanced down at her breasts, then back up to her face, and his grin returned. “Cheers for Otar. He always said if he knew where to find you, he’d steal you as his bride in a heartbeat.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Looks like he got his chance.”

  Madalyn shifted topics, not in the mood to relate how she’d really gotten here. “How long have you known Annikki?” she asked.

  “Too long,” Annikki muttered. “He is like an illness that refuses to go away.”

  “I love you, too, my beauty.”

  Annikki threw her hands up, exasperated. “I daresay you are the dunce I thought you to be. Leastways, you have met my daughter-within-the-law. Now be gone!”

  If there was one thing to be said about Vardo, he wasn’t easily offended. Or easily swayed. “Does this mean we will not be having sex this eve, my love? ’Tis fine. I prefer to wait until the eve we are wed to consummate.”

  “Since that occasion shall never arrive, so do I.”

  Bemused, Madalyn watched them exchange insults for another solid minute. Or rather, Annikki insulted Vardo and Vardo chuckled and enjoyed it. If Madalyn wasn’t mistaken, the gleam in Annikki’s eyes meant she relished their banter as well.

  Why did they go through all of this fuss? They should just get together; it was obvious they cared for each other.

  Agata said under her breath, “It usually lasts another minute or so, then he will leave and Mama will pretend she doesn’t care.”

  “Why? I don’t understand her reasoning.”

  Agata sighed. “She fears that Toki will have Vardo killed if she weds with him. ’Tis why she pushes him away, though he doesn’t know it’s her motive. The only reason I know is because I overheard her crying one morn whilst she prayed to the gods for the strength to turn her back on Vardo.”

  “That’s so sad.” Madalyn shook her head. “I feel terrible for Annikki.”

  “As do I. But her reasons are real, Madalyn, so do not push the subject.”

  “Why would Toki kill him?”

  “Because a marriage between them would raise our status. We could leave Shanty Row.”

  Madalyn looked at her quizzically.

  “Vardo is of the noble class.”

  UPON BEING SUMMONED, Otar entered the vast planning chamber in Lord Ericsson’s dwelling. Something important had to be brewing, or Nikolas would have waited until the end of the working day before gathering the men together.

  The Revolution sympathizers his cousin had sent for totaled twenty. All hailed from his private inner circle. All were trusted confidants, some of them to a greater degree than were others, but all were held in esteem.

  The ranks of the men varied from lords to soldiers. Only a handful of lords were present, but there weren’t many nobles left to speak of. Several of them had died in less than godly fashions after Toki claimed the throne.

  Below the ranks of the nobles were the warriors, the caste Otar belonged to. It was rare for a Shanty Rower to possess such a place in life; in fact, it had never been done before. But ’twas not Toki who had decorated Otar, but Nikolas.

  The warriors commanded the third caste, the soldiers, and together they were entrusted with the majority of the battling. ’Twas rare to find a noble who would fight. Nikolas and Vardo were the exceptions, but they were not weak and frightened as nobles were wont to be.

  Otar’s eyebrows drew together when Otrygg and his nephew Erikk entered the planning chamber in lieu of Nikolas. The men were devout loyalists of Lord Ericsson. Still, ’twas not like his cousin to fail to show up to his own meetings.

  “What goes on here?” Vardo grumbled, frowning at the men. “Where is Niko?”

  Otrygg held up his hands to command quiet when others began to ask questions as well. “Silence!” he bellowed, a tic working in his jaw. “We don’t have much time to prepare!”

  His announcement produced the desired effect. ’Twas hushed enough to hear a rat sneeze.

  “Lord Ericsson treks to New Norway as we speak,” Otrygg told the men. “He will barter for more weapons and return anon.”

  Otar’s eyes widened. That voyage wasn’t slated to happen for another fortnight.

  “Prepare your men for war!” Otrygg cried. “We hold up our swords upon Nikolas’s return from New Norway!”

  Shouts of approval punctured the air. The men grinned, slapping each other on the back.

  “Why now?” Otar asked. “We agreed on two fortnights from now.”

  “There are many reasons,” Erikk answered for the elder Otrygg. “We had thought to discuss all of them this eve with the lot of you, but some disturbing news has reached our ears since Lord Ericsson set sail in the Underground waterway. We must speak of this instead.”

  “Get on with it, then,” Otar said, not one for suspense. “What has happened?”

  Otrygg’s face hardened. “We’ve a traitor amongst us.”

  Silence.

  “What?” Vardo shook his head. “’Tis hard to credit, Otrygg. None amongst us can stand Toki. Verily, most of New Sweden would like to see him dead.”

  “Apparently not everyone in New Sweden,” Erikk bit out. “I do not believe the traitor stands in this chamber, but ’tis someone that we believed to be faithful to our cause.”

  “Whispers of the Revolution have reached Toki’s ears,” Otrygg said. “He readies himself for battle as we speak.”

  Otar’s thoughts turned to Madalyn. How would he tell her he had to leave? Should he even tell her?

  The past week with his wife had been the greatest of Otar’s life. A deep friendship was forming, a mutual respect and trust. ’Twas more than he had expected so early in their relationship. He had hoped they would have more time together before the inevitable came to be, but time had run out.

  “Two days,” Otrygg announced. “You have but two days left
to you before we strike.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-two

  “Hi.” Surprised Otar was home so early, Madalyn stood up to greet him. She had been cutting up the apples Annikki had brought her to make tarts with this evening. “An early day?”

  Otar nodded, his appearance distracted. “Madalyn, we must talk.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly, setting down the knife. “What’s going on?”

  He was dressed in his usual clothes—brown animal skin braes tucked into heavy black boots that stopped just below the knee, a chain-mail tunic that showed off his impressive musculature, and ornate bangles clasped around his biceps. And, as was usually the case after a day’s work, perspiration soaked his hairline.

  Until Otar, Madalyn hadn’t realized that sweat could look so good on a man. Perhaps because it didn’t on most men.

  “There are things you must know.” His expression was disconcertingly solemn. “Ordinarily a new husband would not confess to a new wife the things I must tell you now, since he wouldn’t yet know that he can trust her to keep quiet. I trust you. And I must have a discussion with you.”

  His faith in her discretion pleased her, but his intense appearance was alarming. She motioned toward an empty chair. “Is it okay to talk here? Or do you want to go somewhere else?”

  “This is fine. You needn’t look so frightened. I did not mean to worry you.”

  “Too late. I’m worried. So tell me what’s going on, already.”

  Otar sat in the chair next to Madalyn. “Has my mother ever mentioned the Revolution to you?”

  Madalyn folded her hands on the table and looked Otar in the eyes. “Yes, she did.” She hesitated for a second. “Was that okay?”

  “Nay, but ’tis done. And it keeps me from having to explain what the Revolution is to you.”

  “I’m well aware of what it is and why it’s going to happen.”

  “What else did she tell you?”

  “That you intend to fight against Toki. And that she doesn’t want you to have any part in it.”