“God, Jerry, so this might be someone forced out here? Left for dead?” I realized the ice was melting as I pulled the heater closer. I could see bare feet now, bigger than Jerry’s own which were a size eleven. This was no lost traveler. A man, dragged out here without shoes, no clothes either that I could see. Probably doused with water to make sure he was encased with ice as the temperature dropped. God. The cruelty made me shudder.
“An enemy, I would say, with a vendetta. But it would take a small army to bring down a man of this size.” Jerry frowned. “The ice is melting. If your theory that he could come alive when he’s thawed holds true, then you’d better step back. Take one of my knives.”
“What? You want me to stab the ice man?” I couldn’t just step away of course.
“Son of a bitch!” Jerry exclaimed when the hand he was working on reached up and grabbed his wrist.
The legs near me moved, no, writhed. It was as if the man was desperately trying to work his way loose from the ice. Jerry looked conflicted, trying to decide whether to pry off the fingers that gripped him or stick them with his knife.
“Don’t stab him!” I did back up when one of the feet almost hit me in the face.
“He’s strong. I can’t believe how strong.” Jerry broke free then started digging around the man’s frozen head. “If I had been buried alive like that, I’d be going mad, trying to get air.”
I got on the opposite other side and began digging too. “Come on, whoever you are, you can do it. Hold on. We’re not here to hurt you. We want to help.”
“You think he can understand English? Someone buried here?” Jerry shouted some words in what I was coming to recognize as Swedish. I assumed he was telling the man we were here to help. The ice heaved, then the man was free. He looked like some kind of abominable snowman, his harsh features caked in frost. He shook himself like a dog and roared, throwing himself on Jerry like he was going to kill him with his bare hands.
Jerry yelled something in Swedish before knocking the man on his ass. Then Jer held his knife defensively, ready to cut the stranger if he had to, just to keep us safe. I scuttled through the snow to get away from the fight. The man staggered to his feet again then swore. Sounded like swearing to me anyway. Some things are universal. He looked down at his body before he collapsed like a felled tree, shaking and shivering. His hands and feet were blue and apparently useless.
“I’ll get the furs!” I ran for them as Jerry approached the man and kept talking. I was so glad my husband knew languages. I tossed the furs at Jerry and watched as he wrapped the man in them. The poor guy we’d uncovered wore little more than a loin cloth. He lay there shuddering and making feeble attempts to take swipes at Jerry but I could tell he didn’t have the strength to do any damage. Apparently his first efforts had cost him whatever energy he’d had.
I ran to the sleigh. Jerry had secured the reins with a stack of rocks next to the cave entrance and I pulled out the picnic basket. I could only imagine how hungry and thirsty the man must be. I found a container of chicken and bottles of water and carried them back to where Jerry was standing guard. Jer had pulled the heater close to him and the man was starting to look a little more human as the blue tinge left his lips and ears. Cave Man had long tangled hair and a beard.
“Here. Can you tell him I brought him food and drink? There’s wine if he’d rather have that.” I opened the container with the chicken. Roasted meat. The smell had to appeal to a starving man so I expected him to grab it. Instead he ignored it, looking at me and licking his lips. Oh, no. Surely not.
Jerry noticed and his Swedish was short and obviously to the point. “I just assured him that my wife is not on the menu. Can you believe this guy is thinking about sex before food? Maybe that’s what got him put in his ice prison.”
“Ridiculous.” I stayed well out of reach and on my feet. Yes, he looked harmless at the moment but that first burst of energy had been scary. “Has he told you anything? Like his name, what happened to him? Anything?”
“Not yet. He seems to understand Swedish but he isn’t speaking. I’m going to try something else. He looks Viking to me. I’ve seen pictures of the assholes and he has that look.” Jerry spoke a few words in Celtic. I recognized that language because Jer spoke it occasionally with his family in Scotland. The man’s eyebrows rose and he finally spoke.
“What did he say?” I was tired of standing and threw down one of the furs so I could sit. This night had been way longer than I was used to.
“His name. He’s called Gunnar.” Jerry shook his head and sat beside me though he kept his knife in his hand. “I can’t believe this. The man has actually raided Scotland enough to know the old language.”
“That means he’s been frozen here for a long, long time.” I rested my hand on Jerry’s taut back. I knew how he felt about the Viking raiders. They’d done a number on the Highlands, centuries ago. “Ask him when he was brought out here.”
Jerry did ask the question. More than one if the length of his speech was anything to go by. Gunnar stared at him, his eyes narrowing as he obviously got his second wind. Finally Jerry said something I understood. “Speak English?”
“Little.” Gunnar picked up the container of chicken, smelled it then tossed it aside. “Must feed.”
“Feed?” I couldn’t believe he knew English. He had to have raided all the way past the Scottish border and along the English coast. There was only one species that used th term “feed” that I knew of. I inhaled, finally realizing that there was more than just the familiar in the air. “Are you--” I couldn’t say it. Didn’t want it out there if it wasn’t true.
Gunnar inhaled too then snarled, showing us an impressive set of fangs. “Like you, I am vampire.”
“Well, hell.” Jerry got up and fetched a bottle of synthetic blood. “What are the odds we would dig up a fucking vampire?”
“Jerry!” I glanced at Gunnar. “Is that why they froze you? Because of what you are?”
“Mayhap. And how they caught me. In my death sleep. I was betrayed by a human lover.” Gunnar stared at the bottle Jer had tossed in his lap. “What this? Did I not say I need to feed?”
“Blood.”
“Nay. I don’t believe you.” He looked at me. His eyes, so blue they might have been painted to match a fjord, raked over me. “I will take the woman.”
“You want me to cut off your cock?” Jerry moved his knife, making it clear he could take care of that business if provoked. “I told you, the woman is my wife. You will not touch a bloody fang to her.” Jerry snarled, showing his own fangs. “Drink from the bottle or die for all I care.”
“I need real blood.” Gunnar stared at the bottle.
“Jerry.” I squeezed my husband’s hard bicep. “I don’t think he even knows how to open the bottle.”
“Give me a break.” Jerry took the bottle and twisted off the cap. “Now drink.” He practically threw it back to Gunnar, spilling some on the fur. It was a premium brand and one of my favorite flavors, AB-Negative.
“Try it. It’s delicious.” I dragged a finger through the puddle on the fur and licked it off.
Gunnar growled and I realized I’d made a mistake.
“Gloriana, I’m going to have to kill him if you keep doing things like that.” Jerry pushed me behind him. “Gunnar, drink from the fucking bottle.”
Gunnar put the bottle to his lips and tasted. Then he drank, gulp after gulp until the bottle was empty. He tossed it aside and belched, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Not bad. But not the woman.”
“I agree. But that’s all you’re getting.” Jerry stayed between me and the Viking. “Now what the hell are we going to do with you?”
Gunnar stood, almost hitting his head on the cave ceiling. He was huge, bigger than Jerry, and that was saying something. I was really afraid that if he got his strength back and still wanted me, we’d have a bad situation on our hands. Luckily I had some powers that could freeze him in hi
s tracks. Not that I wanted to use them. But I would.
“I must needs wash off my filth.” He ripped off the little he wore, ignoring my gasp as I saw that all of him was giant-sized. Then he staggered past me to the cave entrance, fell into a snowbank and rolled around with a grunt of either pleasure or pain.
“Is he crazy? What’s he doing?” I had to admit he was a solid hunk of a man, ripped, from his broad shoulders to his narrow hips and down his long legs to his big feet. His hair and beard were wild, but I guess that was to be expected after what were apparently centuries of being on ice. Amazing that he hadn’t lost any muscle tone.
“Bathing. And he’s not shy about it. It’s his culture.” Jerry grabbed a fur throw and stalked out to hand it to Gunnar. “Cover yourself.”
“This is a problem, isn’t it? He needs everything and what are we going to do with him?” I ran out to the sleigh when I realized Gunnar was eyeing Rudolph like he was his next meal. “You are not drinking the reindeer’s blood!”
“Not a good choice but fresh.” Gunnar smiled at me, showing decent teeth for his time period, “At least ‘tis not out of a bottle.”
“You speak pretty good English. How?” I still kept my distance.
“My father had an English mistress. She taught all of his children her language.” Gunnar finally wrapped the fur around himself. “Two vampires here. Are there many vampires now? What year is this? How long was I,” He swept his arm toward the cave, “here?”
I told him. He swayed then just sat, right in the snow.
“You lie! It cannot be.” He looked up when Jerry came to stand beside me. “She say it is the year two thousand and sixteen. Is she making a foul joke?”
“No. What year did they put you in the ice?”
“A thousand years ago. No, more than that. It is too much! I cannot think!” Gunnar moaned and leaned his head onto his knees. “My family, my children. All gone.” He sat there for a long time, his shoulders heaving.
“Weren’t they vampire too?” I barely resisted the urge to touch him. His grief was real and hard to watch.
He raised his head, his eyes bleak and red-rimmed. “No. I could not do it. At first, when I was made while raiding, I tried to keep it a secret.” He drew his hands through his wild hair. “But such a thing has a way of coming out. Vampires are monsters, are they not? Even my wife feared me. My villagers were scared of me.” He pulled at his beard. “I could not blame them.”
“I would. Since you ended up here.” Jerry stared down at him. “What they did to you…”
“Not my village. I had enemies, whispering about me until even my friends and my liege turned against me.” Gunnar looked away to stare at the hills in the distance. “They must pay. Of a certainty they are all dead now but their descendants will feel the edge of my sword.” His face seemed carved from stone. “You will give me one. I saw your knife. You handled it like a warrior.”
Jerry shook his head. “I was one. Once. Still can be if I need to fight. But no, I’ll not arm you now.”
“Why not? What are your names?” Gunnar’s eyes narrowed on us, but he was glaring at Jerry. “I demand you say them!”
“Why?” Jerry held up a hand when I would have answered. “Are you thinking we are your enemies? Saving you only so we can torture you some more?”
“It is possible.” Gunnar stood, staggered then sat again. He muttered something in a foreign language that even Jerry didn’t seem to know then reached for another bottle of blood and stared at it. “They wanted me in hell. But that seemed too easy. Buried me here instead. Snow and ice would not kill me but I cannot get out without help.” He flinched when Jerry took the bottle and opened it for him then handed it back. He took a deep swallow then gave Jerry a narrow look. “You found me. An accident? Or a plan? Explain yourself.”
“First, you are in no position to demand anything here, Viking.” Jerry was getting wound up and I grabbed his hand.
“It was an accident. I was exploring.” I had to calm things down here. “We don’t want to hurt you. We will help you.” I ignored the warning squeeze I got from Jerry. “If we can.”
“Why should I trust you?” Gunnar drank some more. “Why won’t you tell me your names? Is it Brodin? Did one of the Brodins send you?”
“Brodin?” I looked at Jerry. “No. I am Gloriana St. Clair. This is my husband Jeremy Blade or Jeremiah Campbell. He goes by both names. But neither of us is a Brodin.”
“Don’t bother, Gloriana. The man isn’t going to believe you unless you let him read your mind.” Jerry faced Gunnar. “We are not from the Brodin family. I swear it.” He dropped my hand and held his out to Gunnar. The Viking gave him a hard look before he finally took it. Mind reading. Of course. “Get inside next to the heater and drink some more blood.” Jer tossed him another bottle of synthetic. “You need your strength before you can think about revenge.”
“Heater. The box that makes heat.” Gunnar nodded. “Yes. I need more strength.”
I stared at him as he walked barefoot across the snow and into the cave. “What now, Jerry?” Of course we were going to help Gunnar. Vampires helped each other if they could. But how?
“First, we’ve got to go back to the hotel.” Jerry suddenly seemed to snap to the fact that our coats were inside the cave. He stalked inside and brought them out, wrapping me in mine. At least it was relatively free of rock dust from the cave-in. I shook out my hair, dismayed by what fell out of it. I put up the hood on the coat. What would the people at the hotel think when they saw us like this?
“Then where do we put him?” I stuffed my gloves in my pocket, needing to touch Jerry and feel his skin against mine more than I needed to get warm. “I’m not sharing my honeymoon suite with him.”
“No, of course not.” Jerry kissed my palm.
“You cannot just leave me here.” Gunnar was outside again, watching us. He must have decided that we were his ticket to civilization. Or we were tricky so he was keeping an eye on us.
“We could but we’re not. I don’t know what we’re doing with you yet.” I went back into the cave to collect our stuff. We’d put a deposit on the furs and the heater. I wasn’t used to being married to a rich man and I wasn’t about to let Jerry lose any money because of this new development.
“Where are you going?” Gunnar’s fur kept flapping open.
I wasn’t about to look. It would drive Jerry insane, he’d do something crazy and then where would we be? First thing on our list would be clothes for Gunnar, size big and tallest.
“Our hotel.” Jerry picked up our picnic basket and stowed it in the sleigh. “Rudolph can’t pull three of us back there.”
“What is a hotel?” Gunnar slammed a bottle against a rock, his solution to opening it, and drank until it was empty.
“An inn. A palace actually. Made of ice.” I sighed. “Be careful, Gunnar. You’ll cut yourself.” I could smell his blood which meant he already had.
Gunnar grinned. “Aye. You would like my blood I think.” He winked, backing up when Jerry growled. “But I heal fast.” He tossed away the empty and picked up another bottle from a stack on the ice beside him. “I need more. This is good.” He staggered back to the cave and smacked open a fresh one.
I realized he was into the champagne blood now. Great. A tipsy Viking. And obviously a horny one. I kept my eyes on Jerry who wasn’t letting Gunnar within ten feet of me.
“One of us should shift and fly back.” I could tell this suggestion wasn’t going over with Jerry. “But then we’ve got to get Gunnar into the hotel, explain him, put him somewhere that doesn’t cramp our style. After we find him some clothes.” At Jerry’s stormy look I quit listing.
“Yes.” Jerry loaded the last of the things into the sleigh. “I have to drive the sleigh, remember? You can’t and I’m sure not having Gunnar handle the reins. I don’t know a damn thing about the man.”
“I can drive a sleigh.” Gunnar stomped toward us, his eyes not quite focusing.
“Not this one.” Jerry helped me into the sleigh then got in beside me. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’m driving Gloriana back to the hotel and turning in the sleigh at the barn. You shift and follow along but stay out of sight until we get to our room at the Ice Palace. Then we’ll work on what happens next. You can shift, can’t you? Into a bird or bat or something?”
“Of course I can shift. But I am tired of being cold. Why do you stay in a palace made of ice?” Gunnar shivered.
“Our room is warm. You’ll see.” I patted Jerry’s hand when he stiffened. “Temporarily.”
“So I will shift to follow you. I will become something with fur. A wolf. I can be a magnificent wolf.” Gunnar had no more than said it than he tossed the fur he wore at me and shape-shifted.
Rudolph went crazy. His eyes rolled back into his head, he squealed then peeled out like he was being chased by a whole pack of wolves. In this case it was only the one wolf, loping along and laughing like a freaking hyena, a drunk one. Which made Jerry’s arrival in the stable yard something of a spectacle. He was barely controlling his animal, disgraced in the eyes of the stable master and the gathered sleigh drivers who witnessed the scene. At least the wolf vanished before anyone else saw him. But that didn’t help. Jer was definitely hot under the collar by the time we arrived in front of our door. Luckily the hallway was empty. Because a very naked Viking arrived right behind us, grinning as he clapped us on the backs.
“That was a good time. Now what do you have for me in here?” Gunnar pushed us aside and walked into the room as soon as Jerry threw open the door.
“Mr. and Mrs. Blade?”
Jerry and I turned to see a pale Viktor carrying my cape and boots. “Um, your clothes are clean and ready for you, Mrs. Blade.” The bellman thrust the cape at me and the boots at Jerry then ran away down the hall before Jerry could dig a tip out of his pocket.
Real Vampires and the Viking Page 4