Chapter Twenty-Three

Natasha

Before Elise left on her last mission, she’d asked Natasha to stay away from the Vrandarian guards, which meant remaining inside. Complying with the request was no great sacrifice. For the most part, other than a few well-placed gardens, the grounds of Cresenta looked rag-tag and depressing. She paced the rooms, trying not to think of Ragnar, or of her sister stealing from Gunnar.

Just before dusk, she thought she heard a woman scream. Opening the door, she listened and heard the unmistakable sound of a woman’s cry for help. Natasha ran down the steps, toward the sound. As she came around the corner of a partially constructed building, she saw one of the guards tussling with a Nymph.

With a single strike to the back of his neck, Natasha neutralized the giant Vrandarian. He fell to the ground and groaned. He wasn’t unconscious, but he wasn’t moving. Much.

“You don’t want me to hit you again,” Natasha said. “Because the next blow will smart a little.”

“Bitch,” he muttered.

Natasha smiled good-naturedly. “Nice to meet you too.”

The Nymph panted and trembled, but her terror didn’t keep her from landing a small ineffectual kick to the man’s gut. Her sandaled foot hardly had an impact, but Natasha admired her pluck.

“You are Natasha,” the Nymph said, brushing her hair from her face. “When did you get here?”

Natasha recognized the Nymph as Paula, the woman Birgitta had introduced her to.

“I’ve been here for a few days.”

“Thank you for coming to my aid,” Paula said. She turned her gaze to the guard, writhing on the ground. The man groaned and turned to his back. A bottle fell from his pocket and rolled onto the sand.

Natasha lifted it and brushed the sand from the glass. “Wine from Zaandar. Where did you get that?”

The guard grimaced but said nothing.

“The Vrandarians are up to something,” Paula said. “There are others. They’ve been drinking and they’re passed out in their barracks. This one keeps saying everyone’s under arrest until Elise returns.”

Natasha snorted. She couldn’t imagine the dim-witted Vrandarians could get far, trying to throw their weight around on Cresenta. Still, she worried about Elise. As usual.

“Really? I suppose I’ll need to question you further.” Natasha glanced at the trembling Nymph. “Maybe we should have a glass of this while we talk to our friend.”

Paula rubbed her arms to warm herself against the growing chill. “We should be inside. I don’t think the others will wake till morning, but they wouldn’t dare enter your sister’s quarters.”

Natasha handed her the bottle and grabbed the guard’s legs by the boots. She dragged him along the sand toward Elise’s home. The man was heavy and it was challenging to pull him up the short flight of stairs. He cursed, his head thumping each step.

Natasha gave the Nymph a look, pretending sympathy for the prisoner. “Ouch. He might feel that in the morning.”

Paula’s lips tilted and her frightened expression softened.

After hoisting him into a chair and tying him securely, Natasha found glasses and a cork implement. The cork pulled off with a pop, a sound that made the Nymph’s eyes widen with surprise. The woman watched as Natasha filled two glasses. Paula was pale and trembled slightly and the glass shook in her hand as she lifted it to her lips.

Natasha sat down at the table, near the prisoner and across from Paula. She lifted her glass. “We should make a toast. Here’s to learning new things every day.”

Paula flushed. “I’ve never tied a man up before.”

Natasha glanced at the man seated between them. His wrists and ankles were tied to the chair. While he was bound tightly, he hadn’t been gagged and he glared at Natasha, a scowl twisting his lips.

“Do you think you’ll remember the knots?” Natasha asked.

Paula ran her fingers through her hair and frowned as she looked at her palm. The Vrandarian had pulled her hair and now a few clumps clung to her hand.

“I think I’ll try my best to forget everything about this night,” she said.

The sentry growled.

“Nobody asked you anything,” Natasha snapped. “Except your name. Until you give me your name, you don’t need to say a single word.”

The man sneered but his expression melted from his features when Natasha reached her hand toward him. He blinked and tried to recoil but he was too tightly bound.

“What’s this?” Natasha asked, pulling a package from his chest pocket. “Cigarettes? Oooh, I’m afraid I’ll have to confiscate them. I’m responsible for your safety until I release you to the proper authorities.”

The man bared his teeth and snarled. “That’s me last pack.”

“It’s a good thing too,” Natasha plucked a cigarette from the box and flicked the incendiary device to see the flame, but did not light the cigarette. “These are terrible for you.”

“Don’t waste them, you bitch,” the man said from between gritted teeth.

Paula rested on her elbows and watched with bemusement. “I hear those give a person terrible breath.”

“I’ve heard the same. You don’t want to smoke and kiss a man,” Natasha said.

“I’m not kissing anyone, ever,” Paula muttered.

For an instant Natasha thought of Ragnar. Was he looking for her? Did he miss her as much as she missed him? Now was not the time to think about Ragnar. She had a man to interrogate. She needed information.

She spun the cigarette between her fingers. “Maybe I should try one of these. You Vrandarians seem to enjoy them.”

“Fuck, don’t waste my smokes,” the prisoner growled. “That pack is five days’ salary right there.”

Natasha ignored his protests and regarded Paula. As much as she wanted to question her prisoner, she wondered why a Nymph would sound so bitter. “Why do you say you’re not kissing anyone, ever?”

The Vrandarian snorted. “I offered to kiss her.”

Natasha ignored him. “You don’t want to remarry, Paula?”

Paula shook her head. “That’s why I’m here. I was married and I gave my husband no children. Who would want to marry me?”

The prisoner snorted. Natasha turned to him and pressed his wrist between her fingers. His arm spasmed and a huff came from his lips.

“Don’t be rude,” she said.

“Quit fiddling with me smokes, you little whore.”

Natasha sighed and shoved the cigarette back in the box, wrinkling her nose at the acrid odor of tobacco. “I think I should gag him.”

The prisoner squinted at her. His scars looked even more pronounced. “I won’t let you gag me. Not you or the barren, frigid little witch there.”

Natasha shook her head. “Elise will be back soon. I’ll tell her about you Vrandarians and she won’t be happy about your appalling lack of manners. Or the smoking. I bet Elise won’t like that either, and if you think I’m mean, wait till you see Elise when she’s miffed.”

“Yer sister’s not coming back.”

Natasha stared, wondering if she’d heard him correctly.

The man grinned, exposing his yellowed teeth. “Me and the others are going to collect a reward for your sister.”

Natasha jerked to her feet. “How so?”

“The Jaegarian. Gunnar. He’s offered a fortune for the girl.”

“I heard the same,” Paula said. “I don’t know if it’s true but I attempted to send a transmission to Jaegar, asking for help from Birgitta.”

“Birgitta knows about this?”

Paula nodded. “Maybe. If the transmission reached her.”

Natasha turned to face the prisoner, jostling the table and knocking over her glass of wine. Her vision clouded with red rage. “You betrayed Elise?”

“I made a business decision. For me and my men.”

“What did you do?”

“I told one of my associates about her latest Jaegarian target.”

Elise had left the day before. She hadn’t been in touch. Natasha just figured the trip had taken more time than Elise had planned. She gritted her teeth, wishing she could slap the sneer from the Vrandarian’s face.

“Who did you tell?”

“None of your fucking business.”

Natasha brushed her fingers along his jaw. “Tell me.”

More shouts came from outside. “We’ve got ships. Incoming ships.”

Natasha whispered. “That might be my sister now.”

He shook his head. “Nah. It won’t be. She’s in prison. Far, far away.”

Natasha ran her fingers down his neck.

He winced. “They ain’t going to hurt her.”

Natasha eyed the scars crisscrossing his face. The man looked like a monster. He’d attacked Paula and betrayed Elise. Her temper flared and she fought the urge to hit him with his own bottle of wine. She wanted to hurt him. Badly.

“I’m not taking your word that Elise won’t be hurt. Tell me who has her.”

“I ain’t telling you a thing, bitch.”

Natasha dug her fingers into his neck.

He yelped. “She’s in the Fargian prison, awaiting extradition.”

Her heart seized. Fargian prison was a hell-hole teeming with criminal elements. Humans, aliens, shifters, all types of monsters were thrown in Fargian prison.

“Extradition to where?” She loosened the pressure on his neck.

“To Jaegar. Obviously. Stupid girl. But she’s going to be their guest until they get their money from Gunnar Helmsgaard.”

Gunnar? She knew he wanted Elise, but would he go through the trouble of extraditing her? What if he just left her there to fend for herself? Panic twisted in her gut.

The man went on. “Lots of men would pay a pretty penny for a girl with her pirating skill. They might even teach her a few other skills even though she be just a skinny Maiden.” He let his gaze wander down her body as he sneered.

And then he jerked his head, baring his teeth as he tried to bite her. Despite her fury, her reflexes were quick and she pressed her fingers into his neck. He sputtered and gasped for breath. His body convulsed. His limbs jerked against his restraints. His eyes rolled back and he went limp.

Natasha stepped away and drew a deep shuddering breath, trying to get the image of her sister in a prison cell out of her mind. Elise was shrewd. Surely, she’d evade capture. Natasha closed her eyes and hoped desperately her sister would be safe.

“He just lost control of his bladder,” Paula said. “He wet himself.”

Natasha turned back to the unconscious man. “He’ll be out till morning.”

Paula stared at the spot on the prisoner’s uniform. “I’d like to learn how to do that.”

Before Natasha could answer, two Vrandarians burst through the door.