Under A Viking Moon

by Tami Dee

  Leif had been left with no choice but to commandeer his father's position after it became known that the physically impressive, once mighty ruler was ill, gripped by a cruel, invisible illness that made making sound decisions for his people no longer possible.

  Leif had not wanted to usurp his father's rule, but if he had not done so, Scipio of Iceland would have sought to set himself as jarl over his father's people. And that would have spelled disaster for his clan because Scipio was known as an impulsive man. One who took offence easily and retaliated at even a hint of an insult. In fact, the giant warrior had been dubbed Scipio the Mad by Norsemen far and wide, although none dared speak of him as such aloud in his presence.

  Lost in his reflections, Leif frowned. He should not be surprised that Katla had taken Scipio as a lover. As a child, she had followed him around devotedly. Although, at that time Scipio, all of sixteen winters old, had not been interested in the skinny, dark haired girl of six.

  When Katla's father Rollo had set off to conquer Iceland, taking Scipio and several hundred warriors and their families with him Scipio had been young, rash and power hungry. Likely, once he was older, he saw the jarl's daughter as a means of gaining status within the clan.

  Leif thought back to the morning of his wedding, as she stood on the shore awaiting his arrival. He had been pleased to see the awkward child he remembered had grown into a rare beauty, her dark hair and snow white complexion was a unique, pleasing contrast to the blondness of his people. Her appearance, and the remembered warmth of her open nature had made his blood sing.

  Unease seeped through him. Were those the reasons that Scipio had bedded her, or was it his way of exacting vengeance wrought from jealousy on Leif by soiling and planting his seed in his betrothed?

  Leif sighed and rolled his shoulders in an effort to shake off the weight of his troubling thoughts since well he knew he might never know the true reasoning of his arch-enemy.

  Furthermore, he needed to concentrate on the here and now.

  With that in mind he had no choice but to follow Singlee's advice and 'loosen up.'

  "This calls for a celebration," Singlee announced, his brown eyes gleaming.

  Kat and Rosie shared a smile, their eyes taking on the same playful gleam.

  "What do you think guys? Punk, Goth or Grunge?" Rosie asked cheerfully.

  "Goth," Kat and Singlee answered at the same time.

  "Goth it is then," Rosie called out over her shoulder as she headed back to her room, Kat following close behind. "Let's get ready."

  Leif had no idea what he was in for but by the look on Singlee's face he knew he would have to keep his newly adopted motto close in mind.

  *****

  An hour later, sitting in the back seat of his limo, facing Kat and Rosie, Leif knew what it meant to be 'Gothed' out for the night.

  Kat was a sight to behold. When she first stepped into the living room with her hair cropped to her ears and sticking up all over the place, Leif thought he might actually be sick until, laughing, she had explained that she was wearing a 'wig' and that her real hair was safely tucked away underneath it. Her perfect skin was covered by some sort of white powder, the only color on her face being the thick charcoal lines skillfully drawn around her eyes and the black cream she had put on her full lips. Three arrow shaped 'fake' piercings were glued to her forehead and chin, and she wore a small ring through her left eyebrow.

  The skirt she wore was short, Leif noted with an inward groan, leaving her legs exposed almost to the top of her trim thighs, and she was wearing something she called 'fishnet stockings,' although they looked nothing like the fishnets he was familiar with back home. Her feet were shod with strange, manly looking boots that tied up past her ankles, their thick heels at least four inches high, bringing the top of her dark head to his neck.

  And there was still more strangeness. Her black blouse, cut low at the neck and so amazingly high at the waist that it left her navel with its silver piercing to show itself boldly, was enhanced by the studded belt, wrapped loosely around her hips and slanted at a jaunty angle, that finished off her 'Goth' look. A look that aroused him in a way that, seated as he was, he found most uncomfortable, these 'future' garments leaving no room for the lust that raged through his veins.

  As for his own appearance, he was wearing a collar! He had on black leggings that, besides strangling his manhood, clung to his legs and hips. The 'button fly' stopping just below his own navel, and a skin tight black 'tank' with a long, black, 'trench coat' over it. The 'army boots' he now wore were heavy and confining, pinching his toes in a way that already had made them start to throb.

  Not only that, his own face, as with Kat, Singlee and Rosie, had white powder smeared all over it. Singlee had gotten carried away with the 'fake' piercings, having lined his entire forehead, temples and chin. Not to mention the line of piercings in his ear. His own eyes had not escaped the charcoal liner, and his lips were as dark as his companions.

  Rosie had braided his hair into several thick rows, all the while trying to convince him to let her spray some sort of black dye to cover the blond tresses.

  While everyone else seemed quite excited about the nights coming activities, Leif was certain that being tortured by his worst enemies would be more fun that he was destined to have this night. He only hoped he would survive it.

  "We're here, boss," Singlee called out cheerfully from the front seat. The limo came to a smooth stop in front of a tall brick building faced with bright, flashing lights that spelled out Goth-O-Mania.

  Leif squared his shoulders and took a bracing breath. He could do this.

  The crowd's lining up hoping to gain entry were much the same as that of the night before, only this crowd was all dressed in black. Leif decided to look on the bright side. At least he would not stand out, except, of course, he thought scanning the crowd, for his size and light coloring.

  Kat threw open the door and jumped out of the limo while Leif and Rosie, sharing a look, followed behind, leaving Singlee to attend to the 'valet' parking of the car. Kat did not bother to go to the back of the line. Instead, she approached the 'bouncer', seemingly ignoring the angry shouts hurdled her way and smiled up at him, unabashed.

  The giant of a man -- apparently being a bouncer is what large, healthy men did in this future time -- gave her a narrow-eyed stare before breaking out into a wide smile.

  "Kat," he said, in a booming voice. "I heard you've been stirring up a whole lot of trouble lately."

  Rosie strode up and stood next to Kat, "Hey, Steve," Rosie said, flashing him a brilliant smile. "How goes it?"

  "How's school going, Rosie?" Steve asked.

  "Aces all the way, Dude. How about you, you must be almost finished with school by now." It was more of a statement than a question.

  The giant's smile became even wider. "Getting my masters at the end of the semester. Then it's goodbye door-man, and hello ancient pyramids of Egypt."

  "That's great," she said and added seriously. "Just don't forget to wear a facemask and rubber gloves when you're digging up your mummies. They carry deadly molds and bacteria, you know, even the air that's been sitting in those sealed tombs can be deadly if you're not careful."

  Leif shook his head. This conversation seemed quite out of place considering their outlandish clothing and painted faces.

  "Dude," Singlee said, joining them. "You gonna keep us talking all night or are you gonna let us in?"

  "Well, I'll be!" Steve exclaimed. "When did your skinny butt get out?" And then, not giving Singlee a chance to answer he continued. "You looking for work?"

  "Naw. This is my new boss for now." Singlee clapped Leif on the back. "I'll let you know when I'm available."

  Leif had to blink several times before his eyes adjusted to the flashing lights inside. The club was loud and crowded. He expected Kat to disappear right away as she had last night, but instead she grasp his hand and smiled up at him. His chest swelled with an emotion he could not identify.
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  Maybe tonight would not be as bad as he thought it would be.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Leif gulped down the last swallow of his third 'Screwdriver.' In the hour they had been here, Kat had matched him drink for drink. He had to hand it to her, other than her words starting to slur the slightest bit, she seemed unaffected by the strong mead.

  The noise or 'music' as he continued to remind himself, was not hammering painfully in his ears now. In fact, to his surprise, he was starting to understand what Rosie had meant by 'feel the rhythm'. Once or twice, Leif even caught himself tapping his foot or nodding his head in time with the harsh 'rhythm'.

  Singlee plopped himself on the bar stool next to Leif and slapped his hand against the shining surface to gain the barkeep's attention. "Two Hurricanes," he said. "Pronto."

  Singlee gave Leif a rakish wink as a tall blond walked up behind him to twine her arms around his neck.

  "This is Megan," Singlee announced over the noise, as she clutched him with her black fingernails.

  "It's Ragan," she shouted, unwinding one hand and holding it out to grasp Leif's.

  Resorting to a Norse custom, Leif grasped her forearm and gave it a firm squeeze. A look of surprise crossed her face and was quickly replaced by pleasure as she grasped his own forearm in return. Not only did she mimic his squeeze, she followed up by rubbing her thumb suggestively against the sensitive skin just above his wrist. Leif was amused by her boldness, but not the least bit interested.

  From her perch next to Leif, Kat reached over him, her breasts pressing against him as she did so. Leif sucked in a sharp breath as darts of pleasure shot throughout his body, right down to his confined, throbbing, toes.

  With both her hands, Kat pried Ragan's fingers away from his arm.

  "Touch him again, Ragan, and you'll lose a hand." She followed the threat with a cold smile.

  Leif's brows shot up in surprise. What was this? Jealousy?

  Singlee laughed. "Pull back your claws, Kitty-Kat. We're going to dance." Singlee took Ragan's untouched drink from her hand and put it on the bar before dragging her to the crowded dance floor.

  "Lady," Leif said, grinning. "May I assume that you're jealous?"

  He tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the laughter out of his voice.

  "I'll have you know I don't have a jealous bone in my body," Kat assured him haughtily. "I just didn't like the way she came on to you when she was sucking up drinks Singlee bought her. But, hey, if you want her, then by all means, go get her." She gestured drunkenly towards the dance floor. "I don't give a rats--"

  Leif gave her no time to finish what she had been about to say, although he was curious as to why she would be muttering about a rodent. With one flick of his wrist, he twisted the stool she was sulking on around until she faced him and pulled her painted face into his palms.

  Her quick gasp of surprise filled him with an urgency he had never felt before. The sounds of music and boisterous laughter faded away. Leif felt as if he and she were the only two in the room as he leaned in to kiss her.

  She did not resist. In fact, as his lips touched hers, she melted against him.

  The moment suffered a sudden death as Rosie plopped herself into the stool her cousin had just left.

  "Get a room, you two," she joked, only to squeal a moment later as a man, dressed, painted and pierced like everyone else in the club came up behind her and grabbed her by the waist, hoisting her off the stool and into his arms.

  Instantly Leif was on his feet. The crack of his fist against the assailant's face was, he found, extremely satisfying. Leif caught Rosie by her waist before she crashed to the floor with the man.

  Laughing, Kat hopped off her stool and knelt beside the stunned assailant while Rosie, her eyes wide and her mouth forming a silent 'O', stared unblinkingly at the cursing man on the floor.

  Kat tweaked the man's spiked hair. "Look at the bright side, McCarty," she said cheerfully. "My bodyguard doesn't only look after me, he looks after my friends, too."

  "Touch my hair again and I'm going to card you," the police officer sputtered as he struggled to get up, grudgingly accepting Leif's outstretched hand.

  "The fact that you thought you were protecting Rosie and didn't know who I was is the only reason I'm not running you in," he growled, massaging his jaw.

  Leif gave him a half smile. He considered teasing him about his ridiculous clothing until he caught the sight of his own reflection in the long mirror over the bar and snapped his lips shut.

  "Come on, sweetie," Rosie soothed McCarty, grasping him by his arm. "You could have taken him if you had seen him coming. Let's dance."

  "That was really nice of you," Kat said when they were gone. "You have some pretty strong protective instincts, don't you?"

  "I'm twenty-nine winters old," Leif said stiffly, still shocked that McCarty was 'Gothed out'. "I have been a ruler for more than half my life. Protecting those under my care comes naturally. Which is why I must try to return to my time Kat, as soon as possible. My protection is needed there."

  She studied her ringed hand as she held her mead. The ice clicked against the glass as she lifted it to her lips and took a long drink.

  "I understand, Leif," she said quietly. "I'm sorry that Benny and all that got in the way of my helping you. I promise that tomorrow we can go to the bank. I really think that somehow the matching safe-deposit keys will give you some answers."

  She sounded sad, but determined. Leif grasped her free hand and gave it a small squeeze. "Assisting you with your problem was my pleasure, lady," he said, wishing that he knew what she was thinking. He wondered if she would miss him when he left, because he had an awful feeling he was going to miss her to the point of distraction.

  *****

  Kat marveled at the darts of electricity that shot through her hand when Leif squeezed it.

  What was it about this man? Never in all her life had someone caused such havoc to her senses. She could barely think straight when she was near him, and given the life she led, thinking straight was essential.

  She was still kicking herself for offering to go to the bank with him tomorrow. As soon as she had spoken the words she had wanted to take them back. Her grandmother's words were screaming in her head. "When he comes you must not let him return without you."

  Kat had no doubt that Leif was the 'he' her Amma had spoken of. What she had plenty of doubts about was how she was supposed to get a ticket on the mysterious time-traveling train he was ready to board the minute it pulled into the station.

  Sheesh.

  And how on earth would she manage when she got there? Assuming that she got there at all. She had done just fine surviving in the concrete jungle she knew, but would she know how to survive in the land which he had come? The terrible truth was, she had no choice but to admit to herself, that she had spent the most of the last five years pretending that she wasn't afraid of anything, when in truth, she was afraid of almost everything. The entire persona she showed to the world was nothing but a fraud.

  "What are you thinking, lady?" Leif asked her.

  Pushing her painful confessions aside, Kat smiled up at him and grabbed his hand. Giving it a mighty tug, she pulled him off his stool and dragged him to the dance floor.

  "Let's have some fun!" she shouted over the music.

  And by the end of Linkin Park's Numb, they were.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kat opened her eyes with great effort. Where was she anyway? A careful look around her answered that question quickly enough. Rosie's of course. She smiled, remembering why her head was pounding.

  Leif dressed in Goth and dancing. Wow! Who would have thought a thousand year old Viking, make that Norseman, would have it in him? And to think he had actually looked like he was enjoying himself. Admittedly, he had sucked down the booze like it was water, but still he'd enjoyed himself.

  Slinging her legs out of bed, she grabbed her tote and with her free hand clutched the edge of the nightstand as the floor
rolled beneath her feet.

  Too fast.

  That was when she remembered her promise to take Leif to the bank today and apprehension gripped her. Would Leif find his way home? Did she even want him to? Thirty minutes later Kat, feeling much better thanks to the hot shower, made her way into the kitchen and started the coffee, breathing deeply the comforting scent of freshly ground coffee beans.

  "It is a pleasant aroma," Leif said in a low voice. He was already dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a forest green t-shirt that clung to his massive frame. Kat's fingers itched to trace the exposed hollows and crevices of his well-defined, muscled arms and neck. His hair was loose and combed straight back to hang like a golden curtain down his back. He looked wild and deliciously dangerous. As if knowing the direction her thoughts were taking her, his blue eyes twinkled in amusement.

  "If you think you can wake up your driver, we can go over to the bank," she said briskly.

  Leif smiled, treating her to the full brunt of his charm. Her heart did a complete flip and the temperature in the kitchen suddenly rose by several degrees. Kat quickly pulled open the refrigerator door and all but fell into it reaching for the eggs.

  Leif laughed. She felt his presence behind her before he put his hands around her waist. Gently he tugged her out of the refrigerator and into his arms, her back pressed against his front. Kat sucked in a breath. She imagined this was as close to swooning as she had ever come in her entire life.

  She should say something. Anything. But for the life of her she couldn't think of a single word. He turned her around to face him, his smoldering blue eyes intense. He lowered his head, her lips parted. Kat held her breath. The touch of his lips to hers all but sent her into another dimension, a dimension where only he and she existed, a dimension that she never wished to leave.