Read Online The Second Lie (Immortal Vikings Book 2) by Anna Richland - Free Book Online
Authors: Anna Richland
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platforms that opened to the dark morning at the far end. Air rushed past, as if the station was a wind tunnel. A glass enclosure to their left separated several small shops from the empty chill of the train area, but nothing was open or lit.
At least it was dry, even if she wasn’t. At least there were two other people, even if neither was looking at their group. At least she wasn’t dead, even if that circumstance was probably temporary. She didn’t believe these two men would let her go when they boarded the train to Heathrow Airport. While they might leave her behind in a bathroom, she wasn’t naïve enough to believe it would be in a condition that would let her describe them to the authorities.
Maybe fear was like the tide, coming and going in waves of different heights, because all she could think about as they marched her and Stig past a closed deli was the sandwich pictured on the sign. The brownish-pink slab under the orange cheese and green lettuce must represent meat. Doing the math to figure out how many hours it had been since she’d had real food wasn’t possible. She couldn’t count past fourteen or twenty or whatever until she had something to eat, and she didn’t care what type of meat was on that picture, she wanted it.
“They’re open.” Wend pointed to a blue-signed pharmacist. “Stig’s not the only one who’s hungry. I’ve had a long night too.”
“You two buy food,” Skafe ordered Wend and Stig as he shoved a shopping basket in her hand and frog-marched her in and to the back of the pharmacy where no one could see her. It was a struggle to breathe naturally as he pointed at cough medicine. “Grab three of those.”
He didn’t have a cough. Her hands trembled, but she followed his instructions.
“Two stretch wraps.”
She had a picture of herself, drugged and tied, and she froze.
Pick them up,
she told her hand,
or he’ll do that squeeze.
Slowly she dropped one, then another, into the basket.
His orders went on. Each item—surgical tape, nail scissors, ear plugs—made her temperature drop until she wondered if she would become an immobilized block of ice here in the store.
They turned at the end of the row, Skafe keeping himself between her and the cashier, and started up the next aisle past magazines, sticky notes and pens. At the end of the office supplies section, a pregnant woman focused on restocking shelves from a rolling cart.
“Get a roll of that.” Stig pointed to packing tape.
Suddenly the memory of the nerve pinch didn’t matter, because she couldn’t let him wrap her in tape. “I won’t.” The glittering darkness in his eyes was as impossible to decipher as a stone. “If you’re going to kill me, do it here, because I’m not touching that tape.”
“Listen up, little girl.” He crowded her backward until the metal edges of the shelf unit pressed against her spine and the back of her thighs. “I don’t kill women. Not unless they try to kill me first. But I have a job. Shut up and let me do it, and I’ll leave you tied up in a bathroom on the Heathrow train. It’s that simple.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her right arm twitched as if to remind her that she could slip a hand under her jacket and find a gun.
The sour smell coming from him grew stronger as he leaned closer. Even through Stig’s jacket and her dress she could feel the pressure of his knife low between her ribs and her hip. She’d be filleted on the floor before she had the weapon clear of the leather straps.
“Look past me,” he said.
The pregnant lady put a hand to the small of her back, making her belly look huge.
“Have you ever seen a cesarean birth?”
Time stopped. She’d seen him nick Stig’s throat hours ago when the tension hadn’t been as high. Her eyes rested on the other woman. No. Not a baby.
Making the right decision was her total defeat, and she slumped under the weight of her silence.
“Put the tape in the basket and everybody’s happy.” He
At least it was dry, even if she wasn’t. At least there were two other people, even if neither was looking at their group. At least she wasn’t dead, even if that circumstance was probably temporary. She didn’t believe these two men would let her go when they boarded the train to Heathrow Airport. While they might leave her behind in a bathroom, she wasn’t naïve enough to believe it would be in a condition that would let her describe them to the authorities.
Maybe fear was like the tide, coming and going in waves of different heights, because all she could think about as they marched her and Stig past a closed deli was the sandwich pictured on the sign. The brownish-pink slab under the orange cheese and green lettuce must represent meat. Doing the math to figure out how many hours it had been since she’d had real food wasn’t possible. She couldn’t count past fourteen or twenty or whatever until she had something to eat, and she didn’t care what type of meat was on that picture, she wanted it.
“They’re open.” Wend pointed to a blue-signed pharmacist. “Stig’s not the only one who’s hungry. I’ve had a long night too.”
“You two buy food,” Skafe ordered Wend and Stig as he shoved a shopping basket in her hand and frog-marched her in and to the back of the pharmacy where no one could see her. It was a struggle to breathe naturally as he pointed at cough medicine. “Grab three of those.”
He didn’t have a cough. Her hands trembled, but she followed his instructions.
“Two stretch wraps.”
She had a picture of herself, drugged and tied, and she froze.
Pick them up,
she told her hand,
or he’ll do that squeeze.
Slowly she dropped one, then another, into the basket.
His orders went on. Each item—surgical tape, nail scissors, ear plugs—made her temperature drop until she wondered if she would become an immobilized block of ice here in the store.
They turned at the end of the row, Skafe keeping himself between her and the cashier, and started up the next aisle past magazines, sticky notes and pens. At the end of the office supplies section, a pregnant woman focused on restocking shelves from a rolling cart.
“Get a roll of that.” Stig pointed to packing tape.
Suddenly the memory of the nerve pinch didn’t matter, because she couldn’t let him wrap her in tape. “I won’t.” The glittering darkness in his eyes was as impossible to decipher as a stone. “If you’re going to kill me, do it here, because I’m not touching that tape.”
“Listen up, little girl.” He crowded her backward until the metal edges of the shelf unit pressed against her spine and the back of her thighs. “I don’t kill women. Not unless they try to kill me first. But I have a job. Shut up and let me do it, and I’ll leave you tied up in a bathroom on the Heathrow train. It’s that simple.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her right arm twitched as if to remind her that she could slip a hand under her jacket and find a gun.
The sour smell coming from him grew stronger as he leaned closer. Even through Stig’s jacket and her dress she could feel the pressure of his knife low between her ribs and her hip. She’d be filleted on the floor before she had the weapon clear of the leather straps.
“Look past me,” he said.
The pregnant lady put a hand to the small of her back, making her belly look huge.
“Have you ever seen a cesarean birth?”
Time stopped. She’d seen him nick Stig’s throat hours ago when the tension hadn’t been as high. Her eyes rested on the other woman. No. Not a baby.
Making the right decision was her total defeat, and she slumped under the weight of her silence.
“Put the tape in the basket and everybody’s happy.” He
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