The Second Lie (Immortal Vikings Book 2) by Anna Richland Read Free Book Online Page B

untethered.
    “The situation’s changed.” Skafe must have read her thought on her face, because he shifted on his feet into a position she recognized as ready to spring and showed more of the knife blade. “Ivar’s changed. You’ll see. Leashes are off.”
    She lowered her chin, trying to make herself look meek as she carefully threaded her hand through both the holster and the empty sleeve.
    “With improved manners, maybe you’d have better luck with the fairer sex.” Stig flicked a speck off his white shirt. A hard flick that started with a circle from his middle finger and thumb and was almost audible in its crispness. Or maybe that was her heart pounding in the silent street.
    Skafe’s nose and cheeks purpled before he spoke. “My luck’s fine. Except for cheaters like you. You shouldn’t have taken Nora.”
    “She asked to come with me.”
    “That’s a lie! I gave her everything.” Anger seemed to increase the barrel-chested man’s size. “She wouldn’t have left me.”
    “She saw you hit her son.” Stig’s half smile almost dared the older man to continue arguing, as if he was picking a fight. He flicked his cuff, and Christina’s eyes followed the direction of his finger. Toward a streetlight that marked an intersection with a better-lit street.
    Three blocks away, a slow-moving car crossed, and it dawned on her that he was deliberately antagonizing the tightly wound man in order to give her an opening to run, and even a direction.
    The knife reflected the light into a blur, gray in the dark pool, gray like the fin of a shark cutting through night. Her stomach twisted in fear, and she didn’t think about her words, knowing only that Stig shouldn’t take the risk. “Don’t—”
    “He’s trying to get to you.” From beside her, Wend cautioned his partner.
    “Bastard’s succeeding.” Skafe’s shoulders had shifted forward and his feet spread. “He’s needed a beating for a long time. A very long time.”
    “Give it a try. I’m not as small as Robbie.” Stig widened his own stance. The sick feeling in her gut confirmed what their posture announced. They were going to fight.
    “Nooo.” She raised her free hand to cover her mouth.
    “She babied him. Weakling wouldn’t shoot a rabbit until I made him.” One side of Skafe’s mouth shifted up as he sneered. “He needed to become a man.”
    “He was the bravest boy I’d ever met.” Stig nearly vibrated on his toes. “Hitting a child indicates a lack of manliness to me.”
    Skafe’s hand shot out in a chopping move, and Stig ducked.
    This must be the opening he wanted her to take, so she brought her heel down as hard as she could on Wend’s foot, cradled her forearm in the opposite hand and slammed her elbow back into Wend’s gut. His hand loosened enough for her to pull away. She ran between the cars into the middle of the street, hoping to be spotted by police responding to the Bodeby’s alarm or anyone in a store, driving or looking out a window. A woman running like hell in the street, a man chasing her, in a huge city—people should see.
    Breathing behind her, the slam-slam of shoes coming faster than her own high heels, and she gave her all, swinging her arms, stretching her legs and tucking her head and shoulders forward into her dash. Why was she so short and slow? Why couldn’t she have been a runner instead of a gymnast?
    The impact took her down. Asphalt burned her cheek, hands and knees but it was the compression in her chest—she couldn’t breathe—that terrified her. Then the world spun as someone yanked her up until she barely touched the ground.
    She still couldn’t get air. This must be a heart attack, and anyone who said life flashed past was a liar. Each breath she tried, and failed, to get into her lungs must have taken a week. Since the dark man, Wend, was pulling Stig to his feet, the one gripping her neck and hustling her forward was Skafe. From bad to worse.
    Worse definitely described Stig.