Redeemed

by Ann Gimpel

  “Thanks. Sure and I’ll look forward to it,” Zoe wheezed. A worried look shadowed her dark eyes. “Your vulture?”

  Moira snorted. “Changed its mind. It’s not leaving after all.”

  “Aye, but is that good?”

  Moira released her hand. “We can talk about it later. Don’t tire yourself.” Switching her attention to Recco and Karin, she asked, “Will I see you two upstairs?”

  “Not me,” Recco said. “I’m not leaving Zoe’s side.”

  “I’ll stop by the bar in a little bit.” Karin smiled, but her copper eyes looked tired. She’d blown through boatloads of magic between fighting demons and healing Zoe. That she was still standing was a testament to her iron will.

  Daide strode into the lab. Addressing his words to Karin and Recco, he said, “I’m here to help. Let me know what you need.”

  “Good to see you, dear heart,” Karin replied. “You can take over what I’m doing, and I’ll catch a shower before I join the group in the bar.”

  Daide walked to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I left you some dry towels.”

  “Kind of you…”

  They were still chatting when Moira left and made her way to her cabin. Weariness dogged her, and she sat on the edge of her bunk. The cabin still smelled like Leif and their lovemaking. The rich, tangy ocean scent filled her with both hope and sadness. Hope because she loved him, and sadness because she still thought he needed a Shifter mate. She was supposed to be showering and putting on clean clothes, so she could meet everyone in the bar for a celebration, but so far all she’d done was visit Zoe and argue with her bondmate.

  “I still don’t see what’s wrong,” the bird pressed. “I assumed you’d be thrilled.”

  “At what?” Bitterness lined her words.

  “Us still being bonded. What else?”

  Getting slowly to her feet, she started stripping off clothing. Everything needed laundering, so she dropped the items in an untidy heap and walked into the small bathroom. It took time to coax all the dried ichor from her hair, but she felt better clean than she had before.

  At least the vulture hadn’t said anything else.

  Moira toweled off and then wrapped the damp terrycloth around her head to soak up water. Her stomach had twisted into a sour knot, and a headache pounded behind one eye. Her bird often had that effect on her. It was like any other dysfunctional relationship where she was expected to swallow crap without satisfactory explanations. She hadn’t laid down and let anyone else walk all over her. Why should this affiliation be any different?

  She dragged on clean clothes. Stretchy thick, black pants and a silver long-john top with a black vest over it. Once her trousers were in place, she shoved her feet into sheepskin slippers. Resolve moved through her in an inexorable tide. She’d put this to rest once and for all.

  “Why’d you change your mind?” she asked her vulture.

  “It’s better for you if I remain.” The bird’s normal, supercilious tone grated.

  “No,” she corrected. “It’s not. I don’t trust you anymore. What happens next time you get a wild hair up your ass and decide I’m not good enough for you?”

  “How about if we cross that juncture when it happens?” Compulsion lined the bird’s words.

  Moira’s mouth dropped open. “Do. Not. Use. Magic. To. Manipulate. Me. Got it?”

  The vulture squawked denials, but Moira was furious.

  “I’m done. Leave. I dissolve our bond.” Because she’d researched the incantation, Moira chanted in Gaelic, determined to end her travesty of a bond with the vulture.

  “No!” It squalled into her mind. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

  Understanding slapped her hard, and she broke off chanting long enough to say, “I know exactly what I’m doing. Ha! You’ve broken one too many bonds and face sanctions for your inability to get along with your bondmates.”

  She sucked in a breath, waiting for it to contradict her. It didn’t.

  “If you force me to leave, I’ll be exiled.”

  Moira tried to find compassion. Years of mistreatment, episode after episode where her vulture had run roughshod over everything she held dear, got in the way and rose to taunt her.

  “The one you are betrothed to requires a Shifter mate.” The bird tried another tack.

  She balled her hands into fists. “No. He doesn’t.” Closing her ears to the vulture’s pleas, she returned to her incantation. The one that would rip the bond loose from the spot it dwelt inside her magical center.

  “It hasn’t been all bad,” the bird pointed out. “We did good work together in Invercargill.”

  Damn! Her bondmate knew her like no other. Moira’s innate sense of fairness surfaced. “It hasn’t been all bad,” she agreed. “Problem is there’s been far more bad than good.” She went back to chanting. Not much more. Another five minutes, and the deed would be done.

  A knock at her door was followed by Leif opening it. He took one look at her, shoved the door shut, and asked, “What the hell is going on? Magic is so thick in here I can taste it.” He held out his arms, but she shook her head.

  “Let me finish. I’m doing what my bondmate couldn’t. We’ll discuss this once I’m done.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  He sounded so fierce and so protective, it warmed her. “No one said you have to.” She picked up where she’d left her incantation. The spell developed its own energy toward the tail end and passed a point where she couldn’t have cut it off if she’d wanted.

  Moira had no idea how the spell would end. How the world she’d tried to carve out with the vulture would end. All she knew was she had to see this through to its conclusion. A sharp jabbing pain doubled her over.

  Leif closed his arms around her, crooning in Gaelic.

  Searing agony tracked from her chest to the top of her head. When it faded, she reached for the place the vulture lived within her and found it altered. Part of her magical center, but no longer shaped to fit the bird’s energy. She slumped against Leif, and he held her close.

  “I had to do that.” Her words were muffled against his chest.

  “I know. When trust is gone, no relationship can survive.” He kneaded the tight muscles in her back and shoulders.

  She tilted her head back and met his blue-eyed gaze. “We don’t know much about how the bond animals’ culture is arranged, but someone told my bondmate it had to stick it out with me or face sanctions.”

  “It told you that?” A shocked expression spread over Leif’s even features.

  “More like I dragged the information out of it.” She shook her head. “Never mind. It’s over. We’ll see where things go next. I thought I’d feel worse, but mostly what I feel is relieved.”

  “Are you ready to join the others upstairs? I came from there to see what happened to you.”

  “I am. Tonight is a time for celebration. What we accomplished today was huge, so enormous I don’t fully appreciate it yet.”

  He let go of her and pulled the cabin door open. She walked through and waited for him in the corridor. Hand in hand, they climbed one flight up to Deck Four. The sound of voices and the smells of food reached her before they made it to the bar.

  “There you are!” Ketha ran to her and enveloped her in a hug. “Everything all right?”

  Moira nodded. “More than all right.”

  Tessa pushed a glass into her hand. “We’re in the midst of toasts,” she said, smiling brightly.

  “Extravagant toasts,” Viktor seconded. “To hear us tell it, we should join the ranks of every hero who graced the pages of a mythology book.”

  Moira took a sip of what turned out to be whiskey. It burned her mouth and tongue and throat but left a warm glow in her stomach. She raised her glass. “Cheers! To us all. We deserve warm waters, open fires, and easy sailing.”

  “Warm waters, open fires, and easy sailing,” echoed around the bar.

  Someone had brought snacks up from
the kitchen. Moira nibbled on cornbread and jam as toasts continued to flow around the room. She was surprised she felt as whole as she did. She’d figured it would take a long time to sort out who she was without her vulture in residence. During a break where Juan had vanished behind the bar to open more liquor bottles, she clapped her hands together.

  As eyes turned her way, she stood straighter. “You all may have heard that my bondmate changed its mind.” She pressed her lips together. “Problem was, by then I didn’t trust it at all, so I cast my own spell and dissolved our bond.”

  Sharp intakes of breath hit her from all sides.

  “It’s all right.” She held her hands in front of her, palms facing outward. “I still have magic, although I have no idea how much. I told you so you’ll know, not so you’ll feel sorry for me. Today was a long time coming, and I’m relieved that—”

  “But your bird returned to you,” Aura protested. “Surely that counts for something.”

  Moira shook her head. “It only sucked up to me because it’s broken one too many bonds, and whoever runs the animals’ borderworld threatened to exile it.”

  “Aw crap. Really?” Aura rolled her green eyes. “That’s pretty low.”

  “That would be my ex-bondmate,” Moira agreed. “Self-serving to its core.” She snorted. “I feel the same way as if I got divorced from an egotistical bastard.”

  “On a happier note”—Leif crossed to where she stood and draped an arm around her shoulders—“Moira has agreed to become my mate. Those of you who returned in our raft already know, along with my pod, but the rest of you don’t.”

  “Told you.” Juan elbowed Aura, who turned to kiss his cheek.

  “I’m getting pretty good officiating at weddings,” Viktor strode toward them, hand extended.

  Leif shook it; so did Moira.

  “Before we get lost in weddings,” Leif said, “maybe we could talk a bit about what comes next.”

  “Good idea.” Viktor turned to face everyone. “My preference would be to remain aboard Arkady, exploring the world, but I’m sure that life won’t be a good fit for everyone.”

  Boris got to his feet. “We talked about that while you were off jousting at windmills and decided we were happy aboard the ship.” A chorus of assent rolled from the other eight humans.

  “It’s not as if we don’t have choices,” Viktor said. “We could return to Ushuaia. We were building something viable there with the humans who survived the Cataclysm.”

  “Or we could return to Invercargill or some other city we haven’t checked out yet,” Ketha added.

  “My pod and I have discussed this,” Leif said. “Not in depth, but we’ll remain with the land Shifters.”

  “But it means you won’t spend as much time in the sea.” Viktor latched gazes with him.

  “We were moving away from that, anyway,” Leif said. “Our reasons for retreating to the sea vanished after the Cataclysm wiped out most of Earth’s population. Plus, Moira’s not a sea Shifter, and I’m committed to spending as much time as I can with her.”

  Lewis leapt to his feet. “She could be,” he said.

  “Aye.” Two whales headed right for her, hands extended as if they meant to lift her bodily off the deck.

  “Stop right there.” Leif leveled his sharp eyes on his pod members. “She doesn’t know about that yet, and this isn’t the way I’d have chosen for her to find out.”

  “Sorry, Alpha.” The whales didn’t come any closer, and Lewis looked away, cowed by Leif’s rebuke.

  “What is it I don’t know about?” Moira asked. Her tone was even, but she had the squirmy, uncomfortable feeling they’d been planning her future without including her. Not unlike her vulture might have done.

  Out of the frying pan, into the fire…

  Lewis squared his shoulders, staring down his alpha. “This was my doing, Moira. As such, it’s my tale to tell.” He took a few steps nearer her. “Please know I meant well. Back when we believed your bondmate was waiting out the battle before leaving, I put out a call. Several dolphins were very interested in bonding with a strong, courageous Shifter. I told my alpha, and he said he’d find the proper time to let you know.”

  His nostrils flared. “I had no idea your vulture would change its mind or be railroaded into trying to make things up with you. Nor did I have any idea you’d take things into your own hands and break the bond yourself.” He bowed. “That took a great deal of valor. Not many would have had the strength to push through what must have been a difficult and painful spell.”

  The unsettled places inside her receded. Leif and his pod held her dear. It wasn’t a bad thing. She cleared her throat. “It’s all right. Earlier, on the battlefield, when I sensed the link to all of you, I was overwhelmed by a sense of family. You did what you did because you care about me. How can I fault you for that?”

  Leif smiled and hugged her. She hugged him back.

  “What about it?” he said low, near her ear.

  Emotion threatened to swamp her, and she clung to him before letting go. What she had to say was for everyone, not just her brand-new mate. “I’m humbled and delighted for the opportunity to bond with a dolphin. I’m a Shifter. It’s what I was born to be. I had no idea what it would be like to not have an animal form to morph into, but I was trying not to get too far ahead of the curve.”

  “So you accept?” Leif couldn’t contain the eagerness that spilled from him.

  “I do. How will this work? Will they come to me in dreams?”

  “Nay,” Lewis spoke up. “They’ll come to you in the sea. You’ll merge with them, and it will be just like it’s always been.”

  Excitement kindled. She was thrilled at the prospect of a bondmate who wanted her, unlike the vulture who was only trying to prove its superiority.

  “I know that look.” Aura laughed. “Before we lose the entire pod to the waters of Pevek’s harbor, let’s get some closure on our next steps.”

  “Good idea.” Viktor gazed around the room. “What’ll it be, folks? Sailing or settling somewhere?”

  “They’re not mutually exclusive,” Karin said from where she’d planted herself near the bar. “We can sail until we find a spot we’d all like to call home.”

  “Even if we stop somewhere,” Recco cut in, “nowhere is it written we have to remain there forever.”

  “Is the vote to be vagabonds?” Viktor grinned. “Wanderers in the open sea?”

  Ayes and yesses surged around the bar.

  “Looks as if it’s settled.” Viktor drank deep from his glass and went to refill it, returning with the bottle and topping off glasses.

  Leif turned to Moira and gripped her hands. “Are you certain, darling?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  Whoops and cheers rang from the sea Shifters. Rising as a unit, they streamed out of the bar amid cries of, “See you in the ocean.”

  “How will that work for me?” Fear joined the excitement churning in her belly. “I can swim, but that water is cold.”

  “The pod will keep you warm until the bonding is complete,” Leif said. “We’ll warm the water with magic, and we’ll be ringed around you. No harm will come to you. Do you trust me?”

  She nodded, suddenly solemn, and followed him out of the bar. They walked down one flight to Deck Three and paused next to the door leading outside. “I will shift and join my pod. Give us about five minutes and then teleport to us.”

  “What do I use for a destination?” Nervous tension made her voice shrill. What if she miscalculated and drowned?

  “Me. Think of me, and all will be well.” He kissed her on the lips before racing outside.

  Moira waited through what she thought was five minutes before skinning out of her clothing. Too late, she thought about returning to her cabin. If she’d been there, she could have put her clean clothes away, folding them neatly.

  An anxious laugh bubbled out. She was scared. Leif had asked if she trusted him. She did, and she put that trust front and ce
nter in her mind as she visualized him and activated her teleport spell.

  Water closed over her until flippers lifted her, so her head was above water. The pod surrounded her, dolphins close and whales farther out. The patch of water where she floated was indeed warmer than she’d expected.

  “Close your eyes,” Leif said in the garbled speech he employed as a dolphin. “The new bondmates will come to you.”

  He supported her body with a flipper, and she shut her eyes, opened her magical well, and waited. Her breathing slowed, and she recognized a trance when it enveloped her. The energy felt strange, but welcome, different from the vulture’s harshness.

  A dolphin swam through her mind’s eye, blue-grey and delicate. It stopped in the center of her psychic view and bowed. “I would be honored to bond with you.”

  It faded from sight, replaced by a slightly larger dolphin with more green in its hide. “I would be honored to bond with you.”

  The process repeated twice more. “How do I choose?” Moira asked Leif. “They all seem kind and wonderful.”

  “Employ your psychic senses,” he said. “Look for the one that glows brightest. That is the one meant for you.”

  She wound her fingers around the flipper supporting her and sent magic through her third eye. The four dolphins ranged in a semicircle, waiting for her to choose. It was hard. She was touched by their selflessness, and she didn’t want to hurt any of their feelings. She understood the sting of rejection.

  Leif must have been in her mind because he said, “It’s all right. We will have children. This isn’t their only opportunity for a bond.”

  Moira sent her power zinging toward the magical dolphins. The first one who’d approached her glowed in an enticing array of color. Not understanding how she knew what to do, Moira let the magic take her and left Leif’s side to swim to the dolphin who would be her mate.

  Power raced into her like high-voltage magic, and she felt a shock as her magic blended with the dolphin’s. Only moments had passed, but it felt as if they’d always been together. Leif butted her gently from the side, and joy shot through her.