by Ann Gimpel
The Cataclysm was the result.
After a final glance at the crane and the rafts—more to convince himself he hadn’t missed something than anything else—Juan made his way two decks up to the bridge, his thoughts skidding in a million directions.
Concern for Aura.
Killing the Vamps lurking beneath the barracks.
Where to take Arkady. After the storm was over, that is.
What the Cataclysm would do next...
He pushed through one of the glass doors at the side of the bridge. Recco and Daide were bent over nautical charts spread across a wooden table behind the wheel. Recco raised a hand in greeting. “Hey!”
“Hey, yourself.” Juan was surprised by how normal he sounded and blessed his tour guide training. He glanced at instruments clustered around the wall nearest the helm. Barometer, several types of compass, wind gauge, and the satellite feed, which had been dead for years. It didn’t take long for him to verify his suspicions about the weather turning.
“Even I can tell a hell of a storm is headed our way.” Daide glanced up from where he’d been drawing lines in pencil on a chart.
Juan straightened. “Nothing to be concerned about. We’ll remain here until—”
Daide waved him to silence. “You don’t have to do that. We’re not paying passengers.”
Juan’s face warmed. “Sorry. Old habits die hard and other assorted excuses.”
“Should we move the boat closer to shore?” Recco asked.
Juan shook his head. “This boat has a pretty big draft. We’re fine where we are.”
“I heard what you said.” Viktor walked into the bridge. “So your recommendation is we remain here?” A formal note lay beneath Viktor’s words. Maybe a carryover from their earlier discussion.
“Juan?” Viktor quirked a copper brow.
“Sorry. I’m tired. Yeah, it’s my official recommendation.”
“Where are we going when we finally do leave?” Recco asked.
“Not sure.” Juan shrugged. “Viktor and I were just kicking it around.”
Recco glanced from one to the other of them. “Feel like sharing?”
“We’re not Vampires anymore. Means we can talk with one another,” Daide added with a wry grin.
Juan waited for Viktor out of well-established habit. Besides, not much reason to launch into all the reasons not to return to Ushuaia unless Viktor was wedded to that option.
A corner of Viktor’s mouth twisted downward into a grim expression, and he shrugged, appearing self-conscious. “Can’t take the pressure.” He took a measured breath. “I talked with Juan about returning to Ushuaia. I’m not ashamed to admit today was a good, swift kick in the ass not to underestimate the dangers of continuing.”
“Is that what you want to do?” Recco crinkled his forehead into a thoughtful expression.
“In some ways,” Viktor replied. “A better question, though, would be if I believe it’s the proper course of action.”
“Do you?” Juan turned to face him and crossed his arms over his chest. He was finally warming up in the overheated bridge.
“No. Only a coward plots a course to save his own ass at the expense of everyone else.” Viktor inhaled sharply. “We could make a run back to Ushuaia, tails between our legs, but eventually it will be the wrong choice. If evil’s still running amok in the world—and I believe it is—”
“The best we could hope for in Ushuaia would be defending ourselves from whatever face it shows next,” Juan cut in.
“There have to be other people with magic left,” Recco said. “Daide and I were just discussing that.”
“Yes,” Daide spoke up. “We’re stronger with allies than on our own. While I’m delighted so many humans survived in Ushuaia, they wouldn’t have been much good standing against the Cataclysm.”
“Speaking of magic”—Juan cleared his throat—“my cat reminded me the four of us have a huge way to go yet, learning how to maximize our new power.”
Viktor shot him a pointed look. “Do you suppose it’s been talking to my raven?”
“Or my wolf?” Recco said.
Daide rolled his eyes. “My coyote said much the same thing—just before it quit talking with me at all. Hearing the same message from all four of our bondmates can’t be sheer coincidence.”
“Probably isn’t,” Juan said, feeling marginally better about his recent dressing down at the paws of his bondmate.
“I’m one step ahead of you.” Viktor adopted a knowing tone, the one that made Juan want to punch him.
“Well?” He unzipped his parka and slipped out of it, dropping it over a chair.
“I talked with Ketha. She agreed we could benefit from an intensive course in Shifter-dom. She was going to work out the fine points with the other women. We’ll be here for at least a couple days—maybe more, depending how bad the storm is.”
“Good use of our downtime?” Recco furled his brows.
“Something like that.” Viktor had the good grace to appear slightly uncomfortable. “Sorry for planning out everyone’s life. When I ferried paying passengers, they never minded. In fact, they expected a full-service operation, but this situation is different.”
“Did you happen to ask Ketha who she communicated with beyond the barrier?” Juan asked, harkening back to their earlier conversation.
Viktor nodded. “News wasn’t great. She did pick up broadcasts from inland areas, and they were just as trapped by the Cataclysm as we were.”
Juan focused on the barometer. It was still dropping, and the wind had picked up. Waves chopped against the hull, making a hollow, booming sound. “I’m going to check all the decks. Make sure everything is battened down.”
He snapped up his parka and headed for the door leading to his cabin across the corridor from the bridge. Before he left, he turned and let his gaze settle on each man in turn. “This keeps bothering me, so I’ll toss it out there. Before we leave King Edward Cove, I’m going back to the barracks to take care of those Vampires.”
Viktor opened his mouth, but Juan waved him to silence. “Hear me out. It’s possible, actually likely, no one will ever set foot in Grytviken again. Ever. But if the world makes a recovery, and people come here again, we cannot allow those creatures to remain in stasis. Someone will discover them, and they’ll end up turned.”
He squared his shoulders. “Who knows? The event spawning the Cataclysm was fairly minor—maybe not from a magical perspective, but in the larger scheme of things. It’s possible leaving Vamps here could turn into a lynchpin producing another disaster. My vote is for us to be thorough, and I’m willing to go alone if no one else agrees. How hard could beheading a few Vamps in stasis be?”
“We’ll talk about it.” Viktor’s sentence held a closed-off aspect Juan recognized all too well. He’d decided the Vamps were more trouble than they were worth and was prepared to let them rot beneath the barracks forever.
“Nothing to talk about,” Juan shot back. “I’ve made up my mind. Not expecting you to agree. Or give your permission. These aren’t passengers”—he spread one arm to encompass Recco and Daide—“and I don’t answer to you. Not anymore.”
“Never said you did,” Viktor sputtered, “but—”
“No buts. The only question is if you decide to come with me or not. You have some time to think about it. No one’s leaving Arkady until after the storm blows through.”
“I’ll come,” Recco called after him.
“Me too,” Daide cried, his voice cut off by the door closing behind Juan.
Viktor didn’t say a word.
Juan stopped by his cabin and traded the insulated parka for a rainproof, hooded jacket. He’d always gone along with Viktor’s decisions when they were at sea. It was how things worked aboard ships. The captain gathered input from everyone and made all the important decisions.
On one hand, Juan felt vaguely guilty, like he’d done something wrong facing off against Viktor. On the other, he felt empowered, free
. He headed off to make sure Arkady was ready to face the storm.
He and Viktor would figure things out. Their rapport was strong enough to withstand a few alterations in the status quo. If it wasn’t, they’d never had much of a friendship at all.
Chapter Seven: Bargains
Aura spent the next hour floating pros and cons of various strategies with her cat. The discussion reflected a definite philosophical bent since neither she nor her bondmate had the vaguest idea what would show up next that wanted them dead.
Vampires. Demons. Or some perverse quirk of fate no one was expecting. Maybe Ketha could dredge up a few versions of the future with her glass. She was a seer, and information she’d gathered about the future was what made the difference and allowed them to take a bite out of the Cataclysm’s hold on Ushuaia.
A big one. Big enough none of them had expected to see Vampires ever again.
Yeah. Won’t make that particular mistake a second time. Aura pursed her lips into a sour expression.
“I’ve been in communication with the men’s bond animals.” The cat’s words held an ominous undernote, and its comment felt like a shot out of left field.
“Why are you mentioning it to me?” Aura was confused. Usually relationships between Shifters and their bond animals were private, not topics of discussion.
“Because, and let me make this abundantly clear, none of them are pleased with how things have gone so far.”
“Not pleased, how?” Aura’s confusion changed to alarm at the clear departure from normalcy. If the animals were complaining about their bonded ones, trouble was afoot.
“The men don’t understand what a gift and an honor it is to be selected by a bond animal.”
Aura didn’t have to think very hard to view the problem from both sides. “I’m not surprised,” she said, treading cautiously. “Those men had Vampirism stuffed down their throats. None of this group ever warmed to it. Hell, none of them even knew magic existed before they were shanghaied by Vampires on the heels of the Cataclysm.”
“Being a Shifter is nothing like being a Vampire. The comparison is disgraceful,” the cat protested, punctuating its words with a growl.
Aura could almost see its whiskers twitching with annoyance. She inhaled briskly. “It’s not the same.”
“I just said that.”
“What I meant was you can’t draw a comparison between Ketha or me or Rowana and the men. We were steeped in magic from the day we were born. I dreamed you as a child, for chrissakes. I welcomed your visits to my dreams and couldn’t wait for the day you broke through and I could actually shift. I’ve spent years studying and strengthening my magic. You can’t fault the men for taking their time embracing the idea.”
“Yes. I can. It’s time we don’t have. Juan’s cat and I go back millennia. It’s been waiting and waiting for him to pick up the banner and show some initiative with his Shifter magic.”
“He did. Today.” Protectiveness ran high, surprising her. Why would she feel the need to stand between Juan and the bond animal criticizing him?
“Finally. When his back was up against the wall, he solicited—and accepted— assistance from his bondmate.” A low, hissing snarl filled her belly. “We—that includes you and me—were almost lost to darkness. If any of those men had made the slightest effort before today—”
“Enough!” Aura snarled back. “They get it now. Blaming them for their shortcomings won’t help. No one can fix the past.”
The mountain cat subsided into whuffly snorts.
Aura swallowed around a tight place in her throat. “I truly am sorry about what happened earlier. I overestimated my magic—or underestimated whatever was driving the priest. I didn’t realize I faced a demon until it was too late to break free.”
“I know. I was there.”
“Did you recognize the magnitude of what we faced?” Aura waited. The cat didn’t have to answer, but if it did it was bound to tell the truth.
“No. I decided it was a human who’d been possessed by wickedness. I didn’t sense Vampire presence, and I didn’t dig any deeper. I should have.”
“It’s all right—” she began.
“No, it isn’t. Part of my task is to use my senses, which are sharper than yours, to protect both of us. I was so focused on Vampires, I overlooked that they’re far from the only evil walking in this world.”
Love for her bond animal rushed through her.
“I’ll make certain the men understand the most valuable part of being a Shifter is our partner’s unquestioning loyalty, but that it must be earned.”
“Promise?”
“You have my word.”
“I’ll let the other animals know.”
Aura started to tell it not to but changed her mind. The animals had already broken an unspoken taboo with their earlier conversation. Maybe her cat could do some good, reassure the other animals of their mates’ good intentions.
She hoped so.
Very little about becoming a Shifter was written down. Being born to it meant she’d taken a whole lot for granted. She stood and walked to where she could peer out the porthole. Juan strode along the walkway outside her window, looking like a man with a purpose.
His proximity on the heels of her conversation with her cat was fortuitous, something she should jump on. She wasn’t under the impression she could make up for his and the others’ lack of magical roots, but she could offer to teach them the basics about their animals and how to work in tandem with them.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she snatched up the parka she’d draped over a hook and hurried out her cabin door. When she pitched facedown on her bunk, she’d chided herself for being slovenly and not taking her sweaty clothing off, but it was convenient to not have to layer up again.
How best to approach Juan? She couldn’t tell him his cat had been trash-talking him behind his back. It had to be one of the reasons such conversations weren’t encouraged. Absolute trust was the bulwark upon which bonds were built. When you cut to the heart of things, if you couldn’t trust your bond animal, why be a Shifter?
Aura winced. She and her cat had gotten into it more than once. They didn’t always agree, and the resulting arguments left a bitter residue. It had made a strong pitch to make a run for it and leave Ushuaia during the leading edge of the Cataclysm. After conferring with the other women, she’d told her bond animal they were going to sit it out. Surely, the darkness and menacing energy would clear eventually.
Once it did then they’d leave.
Except, her cat had been right. The Cataclysm had done nothing but grow stronger, its rise empowering Vampires and propelling them into the light of day.
What if I’d heeded my cat and the twelve of us had left?
Aura didn’t have an answer. She had no idea how Wyoming had fared. If Vampires had risen there as well, or if the Cataclysm had ever held the Rocky Mountain state captive. Plenty of Shifters lived in Wyoming. Hundreds. Surely, they’d had sufficient resources among them to stave off Vampires and whatever other evil rose to challenge them.
She pushed at the polished wooden double door at the end of the corridor. It didn’t give, so she aimed a quick shot of magic its way.
Juan stood waiting when she walked through, eyeing her speculatively. “I was securing Arkady to ride out the storm. It won’t be particularly rough in this harbor. It’s why the old whalers built Grytviken here, but I’m still doing things by the book.”
Aura smiled. He sounded so earnest, it touched her heart. “Why tell me?”
“Because part of securing the ship includes locking the sea doors. See there?” He pointed at metal doors standing open right outside the wooden ones. “You just unlatched them.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know. We should tell everyone to leave them alone. Does it mean we’re confined to inside?”
Juan shrugged. “It’s the safest place. We could get some unexpected gusts through here. Enough to knock someone who wasn’t attentive overboard.
”
Aura narrowed her eyes and tilted her head back. Borrowing from her cat’s senses, she scented the increasing wind. “Smells like snow.”
“To me too.” He smiled. “Want to walk with me while I finish this up?”
“Sure.”
She fell into step next to him and searched for the best way to offer him lessons in magic and being a Shifter without alienating him. Men were touchy like that. They labored under the illusion they knew more than they did. It was a survival skill, but a hard one to work around.
“Today was a pretty close call,” she ventured.
He stopped walking and spun to face her, gripping her shoulders. “Too close. You will never—” He let go abruptly and started walking again. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s not my place.”
Curiosity skewered her. “I will never what?” She caught up to him.
“I didn’t like it that you came so close to being captured—or subsumed or immersed, or however you’d label it.” His eyes glittered dangerously when he glanced sidelong at her. “Would there have been a way back if you’d been dragged to wherever the demon was herding you?”
Aura felt heat rise to her face. “Um. No. Probably not.”
“Even worse,” he gritted out.
“Look.” She tried for a placating tone. “Nothing happened.”
“This time. I have a feeling what we faced off against in Grytviken’s church is the first of many warped curiosities lying in store as we continue our journey.”
“Warped curiosities, eh?” She snorted. “Pretty fancy term for plain old evil.”
“You’re sidestepping the issue.”
“Maybe I am, if the issue is my ability to take care of myself.” Aura squared her shoulders. “This is a decent lead in to why I came out here. I saw you outside my porthole, and it seemed like a good opportunity.”
“Opportunity for what?” Juan’s tone was carefully neutral. They’d reached the broad, open decking area at the bow end of Deck Three, and he coiled large, thick ropes, securing them.