Captive (The Survival Race) Read online

  “Are you holding me for ransom? What kind of single-celled pond scum takes advantage of the person he saved? You did save me, right?”

  “Son of a—” he whispered, then shouted at the wall, “How the hell do I explain this?”

  Addy stepped back.

  He drew out a long sigh then locked his eyes on hers. “I didn’t save you and I didn’t kidnap you.”

  “Then how did I end up trapped in this...this box with you? Who are you?” Please don’t be a serial killer...please don’t be a serial killer...please don’t be a serial killer.

  He stepped toward her then stopped when she flinched. Raising his hands in front of him, he pointed to the fireplace. “I’m going to throw a log on the fire. Okay?”

  She hesitated. Brighter light would make it easier to see him. That way she could give a more detailed description to the police artist. And if it was a trick, she was ready to fight. Her fingers curled into a fist. She nodded.

  The man moved to the small woodpile next to the fire. The three identical logs, each about one foot in length and four inches in diameter, appeared way too cylindrical to be real. Damn. If she could have identified the tree from which they’d been cut, she might have gotten a clue as to where she was.

  He tossed a log on the embers and the fire sprang to life.

  Addy stepped sideways—back sliding against the cool wall and bare feet squishing into soft pillows still warm from where he had slept—until she stood behind him. She stuck out her chin. “Okay, the log’s on. I want answers.”

  “My name’s Max,” he said, still watching the fire. “They took me, what, fifteen years ago, maybe? I don’t know. I lost count.”

  “Took you where?”

  He turned to face her and searched her eyes. “You really have no idea, do you?”

  She resisted the urge to shake her head. She’d do the interrogating, thank you very much. “You said they took you. Who’s they?”

  “The Hyboreans.”

  “Who are the Hyboreans? A cult? What do they want?” When he didn’t answer, she started to ask again.

  “Babies,” he said. “They want us to make babies.”

  His reply was so preposterous, she laughed. “What is this, some kind of prank? Am I on some reality TV show? Pierce put you up to this, didn’t he? Where is he?” She searched the wall for a hidden camera. Any minute the crew would open the door and they’d all have a good laugh.

  “If it is a joke, it’s on me. This is the first time I’ve been with a female who didn’t understand her role. Why would they throw you in here without bringing you to the Yard first?” he asked the question more to himself. “Well, hell. The only obvious reason is because you’re ovulating.”

  “Excuse me?” The smoke from the fire reached her. Its odd scent seeped into her head, making her dizzy again. Warm. Flushed.

  “You can’t get pregnant unless you’re ovulating. They probably examined you, realized you were ready, and didn’t want to waste an opportunity.”

  “Y-you’re not an actor. You’re psychotic.” Oh my God, maybe he escaped from an insane asylum. She pounded her fists on the wall. “Let me out of here,” she hollered. “Let me out.”

  “Whoa.” Max jumped up and grabbed her hands. “Settle down. Don’t make them angry.”

  His words sent shivers through her and a new fear exploded inside. She pulled her arms free, hit and punched him. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Hell, woman, control yourself!”

  Was that anger or panic flashing in his unnatural green eyes? What would he do to her? Was he capable of murder? She unleashed frightened fury on him in blow after blow, striking him with anything she could—fists, feet, fingernails.

  He tried muscling her but couldn’t get a solid grip on her limbs spinning wildly.

  Pain like a bolt of lightning struck her neck and ricocheted through her body. She screamed and collapsed to the ground, every muscle spastic from the jolt.

  Get up, Dawson. Weak and heavy, as if her body had been magnetized and stuck to a metal floor, she couldn’t move. Max crouched next to her, keeping some distance between them. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear him.

  An instant later, the spasms stopped. As she rubbed the pain from her neck, her pinky got caught in a...necklace? Where did that come from? She wasn’t wearing one last night. She rolled the thin, light chain between her fingers. Did it match his? Did he give it to her?

  Hot anger pulsed through her veins, and she jerked the chain. The damn thing didn’t break. Obviously, her strength hadn’t returned.

  “Don’t.” It sounded more like a warning than a command.

  Locking a defiant gaze on his eyes, she slid four fingers between the necklace and her throat and yanked hard. The chain dug into the back of her neck. It still didn’t break. What was it made out of, steel? She yanked again and again, each time harder than the last.

  “Stop,” he shouted. “Listen, woman, before they—”

  Another jolt of electricity pierced her neck and shot through her body. She curled onto her side.

  “Are you okay?” He moved closer, but still didn’t touch her.

  Addy’s forehead slid back and forth on the floor, as she shook her head no. “What’s happened to me?”

  “It’s the Hyboreans. Are you hurt? Can you see?” She must have given him an odd look because he explained, “Too much voltage can blind you. Or worse. Hell, woman, for your own safety, don’t anger the Hyboreans.”

  It wasn’t until he wrapped the blanket around her that she realized it had fallen off—at what point that actually happened, she had no idea and, quite frankly, was too beat to care.

  He scooped her up into his arms.

  “I don’t understand what happened,” she said, unable to stop the trembling.

  “Shock collar. It’s their way of keeping us in line.”

  “No, I mean how did I end up here? Kidnapped. Into white slavery. Where on Earth am I?” She could have sworn his face paled but couldn’t be sure through her tears threatening to escape.

  He eased her onto the pillows. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Drained, yet unwilling to shut her eyes, she fought heavy lids. It was no use. Exhaustion owned her. A hot tear slipped from the corner of her eye, making its way to her ear.

  The feathery weight of another blanket covered her. A finger brushed across her wet temple.

  “I won’t hurt you,” Max whispered.

  She drifted into darkness.

  * * *

  She was beautiful. Hell, what naked woman wasn’t? Though this one didn’t have the large breasts and wide hips typical of the women they had brought him in the past. This one was muscular, strong, and a ball of fire.

  Max grinned.

  She definitely could hold her own, with that knee to the groin and the kicking and clawing. He examined the stinging marks on his chest and knew he’d find the rest of his skin under her fingernails. The woman could draw blood. He’d give her that. But she’d never hurt someone if she didn’t learn how to throw some weight behind her punches.

  He watched her fight exhaustion...and lose.

  She looked vulnerable lying in his bed with her reddish-blonde hair spilled around her. He imagined her sweeping that long hair down his chest, and could almost feel the tickle. Blood pumped through him, bringing him to readiness.

  He could take her right now. She wouldn’t fight. She couldn’t.

  Their mating would please the Hyboreans. And happy Hyboreans didn’t punish people.

  Usually.

  Her breasts rose and fell with each fast and shallow breath. A tear slid across her face.

  Ah, hell. Only a beast would take a defenseless woman.

  Inhaling deeply and then letting it out slowly, he commanded his body to relax. With a gentleness he forced himself to control, he pulled the blanket over her and then wiped away her teardrop.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.

  It wasn’t long before h
er breathing slowed and its rhythm steadied. Her face relaxed and the lines of tension disappeared, making her appear younger than he originally guessed. Early twenties, probably.

  Poor kid. She had no idea what had happened.

  It’d been so long, he’d forgotten what it felt like to wake up in a strange world. But it had all come back to him when he’d glimpsed the terror in her eyes. His gut tightened as he remembered the range of emotions that had crossed her face in a matter of minutes: confusion, fear, anger, helplessness, pain, and finally defeat.

  There was only one thing worse than defeat. Accepting it.

  Pulling the blanket over himself, he settled onto his side with head propped in his hand. He studied the curves of her face and the handful of freckles on her tanned cheeks. What would he do with her?

  Besides impregnate her, of course.

  Maybe he should explain where they were. No. She’d never believe him. The truth would only frighten her more.

  Just keep your mouth shut, and do your job.

  “How can I do my job,” he whispered to her, “when you’re so damn feisty?” He drummed his fingers on his head.

  The other women had known their role and greeted him with open legs. Okay, so maybe one or two weren’t quite ready at first, but they always responded favorably after a little coaxing and the aphrodisiac fire.

  What if this one refused? Her spirit was strong. She was a fighter. Dread surged through his veins.

  He hadn’t been at stud in a year. And the year prior to that he’d only been in twice. He had to face facts. At thirty-five, he was no longer the young strapping alpha the Hyboreans wanted. Any noncompliance on the woman’s part was sure to be viewed as his failure. And failure equaled torture.

  Only at his age, he doubted he’d suffer a beating. Or starvation. This time he’d be sold on the black market.

  Shit. That was a death sentence.

  His head fell to the pillow and he stared at the ceiling. “You bastards,” he said, keeping his voice low, “why didn’t you take her to the Yard first? I can’t afford complications at my age.”

  He knew of other studs who forced themselves on the females. His stomach turned and dropped into his bowels.

  You’re not an animal.

  He cringed at his lie.

  Not a complete animal, anyway. That’s why rape could never be an option.

  Ever.

  The breeding box was the only safe place he could act like a man. If he lost that last bit of humanity, he lost everything.

  The heat of her body warmed his side. Rolling to face her again, he traced her soft lips with a gentle finger. There was only one thing to do.

  “Woman,” he said. “Prepare to be seduced.”

  Chapter Two

  Waking to the dull clank of something hitting the floor, Addy opened one eye. Still naked, Max knelt by the unlit fireplace with his shoulder toward her. Two pitchers and three cereal bowls sat at his side between them. A citrus fragrance wafted to her. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then retrieved a bundle she hadn’t noticed before from beside the fireplace, opened it, and ate whatever was inside.

  He had no idea she was awake. Good. Maybe she’d have a few minutes to check out her surroundings in the light and figure out how to escape.

  Her gaze shifted around a room void of light fixtures and windows. Large shadows moved across bright, translucent walls. Where was she? Inside a giant, plastic milk jug?

  In slow motion so Max wouldn’t detect her movements, she lifted her head off the pillow. Every sound grew louder; his crunching and sucking as he chewed, and her breathing that seemed to echo in her ears. She held her breath, listening.

  From the other side of the wall came a dull clank followed by faint crackling. Rice Krispies? She cocked her head toward the sound.

  “Morning.”

  Her gaze shot to her captor. He hadn’t moved from his place except to turn her way and flash a crooked, sexy smile. “How you feeling?”

  Let’s see: there’s confused, scared, angry, humiliated.

  “Hungry?” he asked, a little too cheerful after the horrible night they shared. He pushed the larger bowl closer to her.

  Holding the blanket tight around her, Addy sat up and eyed the bowl. Why hadn’t he eaten from it?

  Max crouched on the floor facing her. She couldn’t stop gawking at his nakedness, fascinated how in its relaxed state it wasn’t nearly as threatening. She felt his gaze on her. He knew she was checking him out, yet he didn’t bother hiding himself. The guy had absolutely no shame.

  “Go on,” he said. “Eat.”

  What woman could eat with that staring at her? She pulled a sheet off the pillowed mattress and tossed it to him. “I don’t suppose you’d mind covering yourself.” She was parched and the words came out rough. She coughed to clear her throat but that only made it feel scratchy.

  “Oh. Right.” He wrapped the blue satin around the lower half of his body. “Better?” His smile held amusement.

  Why was he acting so nice this morning? Maybe he wasn’t a crazed serial killer. After all, if he hadn’t strangled her in her sleep, he probably wasn’t going to. She hoped.

  He took a long drink from the pitcher, each swallow causing his Adam’s apple to bob up and down, making her uncomfortably aware of her growing thirst. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t.

  “Ahh.” He wiped his mouth.

  She eyed the pitcher.

  “Go ahead.” He pushed it toward her. “I know you’re thirsty.”

  Thirsty was an understatement. After a moment’s hesitation, Addy slowly brought the pitcher to her lips and sipped. Cold water refreshed her tongue and mouth. She drank deeply, rehydrating herself.

  Max picked a pink, juicy cube from the bowl of colorful fruit and held it out to her. “Here.”

  “What’s that?” Her voice still sounded horse. How was she going to ask him the million questions rattling around in her brain if she could barely talk?

  “Food. Try it.”

  She took her own chunk from the bowl and sniffed it; a citrus fragrance filled her nostrils. Her stomach growled, making her realize she wasn’t just hungry. She was ravenous.

  Seemingly unaffected by her snub, he popped his proffered food into his mouth, and watched her study the cube.

  Heat radiated inside her hollow stomach. It cried out again for nourishment. The fruit looked harmless enough and he did eat some, so it couldn’t be poisoned. Besides, sharing a meal might make him more inclined to answer her questions.

  She nibbled. Sweet nectar with a hint of spice trickled over her taste buds. Juice and saliva pooled in her mouth. She swallowed and greedily took a bigger bite. Juice dribbled down her chin. “It’s good.” She wiped her chin with her fingers. “And messy.”

  He grinned, and his weird green eyes brightened with the joy of a little boy showing off a new fishing pole. “Pop the whole thing in.” He tossed another piece into his mouth.

  She bit into another cube, squirting juice on him, and tried not to snicker as the pink liquid rolled down his chest into the nail marks she had left from yesterday’s attack.

  He drew in a quick breath, his pain giving her a perverse satisfaction. “Nice shot.” He wiped his chest with his hand. “You might want to close your mouth before biting, next time.”

  “What’s going on here, Max?”

  “Nothing. Just breakfast,” he said in a sorry attempt at feigning innocence.

  “You know that’s not what I meant. You said we’d talk in the morning. So talk. Where are we?”

  He finished chewing before he answered. “Hyborea.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “I can’t exactly say where it is, but I can tell you where it’s not.”

  “Okay. So where isn’t it?”

  “It’s not in the USA. Here, try this. It’s my favorite.” He handed her a cracker as long and wide as a graham but with the texture of a Triscuit. “Dip it in here.” He indicated a bowl of l
ittle round black balls stuck in a heap of thick pasty stuff. Was it caviar? For breakfast?

  “Eew. What the heck is that?”

  “It looks gross, but tastes great. Try it.”

  “No thanks.” She bit into the plain cracker. “Do you know how I got here?”

  He shook his head. “What do you remember?”

  “There was a forest fire. I tried escaping in the river but was caught in the rapids. I was getting banged up on the rocks. The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was a huge shadow over me. Then I woke up here.”

  “Sounds like the Hyboreans pulled you from the rapids.”

  “Are the Hyboreans a cult?”

  Max choked on his cracker. He covered his mouth and coughed. “Something like that.” He coughed again. “More biscuits?” He offered another Triscuit-thingy.

  “Are the Hyboreans out there, now?” She pointed to the wall.

  He nodded.

  “What are they doing?”

  “Feeding us breakfast.”

  “Knock it off,” she said with more anger than she intended to show. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “I want answers. Real answers.”

  He stopped eating and looked her square in the eye. He dropped his shoulders slightly and leaned toward her. “If I explain everything, do you promise not to flip out?”

  She nodded slowly, unsure if she’d be able to keep that promise.

  “Okay. The Hyboreans want babies. They take people, put them naked in a room together and let Mother Nature take her course. There is no escaping. Ever. If you do what they want, you’ll survive. If you piss them off, you won’t.” He spoke as if he were explaining the rules of a card game.

  Addy scooped another cube of fruit from the bowl and ate it, hoping this basic life function would ground her in reality. She had to keep her wits in order to figure out where she was and how to escape. “So what do the Hyboreans do with the babies?” She really didn’t want to know but had to ask.

  “Sell them.”

  “This is a baby ring? You mean instead of kidnapping newborns, they enslave adults to make the babies for them? Oh my God.”

  She couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea. It was so crazy and disgusting—like that fertility doctor who gave his patients his own sperm in order to save money. “People are sick,” she spat the words in disgust.