by Ann Gimpel
“The women and I,” she began, “we knew we were Shifters from our earliest years. We didn’t know right away what our bond animals would be. That information arrived when we were five or six, and they appeared in our dreams.”
Juan straightened. “Yes. I understand that part.”
“My point is”—she walked closer—“we were steeped in magic from birth. You never knew magic existed until Vampires removed your free will.” Aura took a breath before hurrying on. “Leveraging power is like any other skill. It’s learned and requires practice. I fully understand why you and the other men had little interest in immersing yourselves in being Vampires, but—”
“You can stop there.” Juan’s nostrils flared. “I already got a raft of shit about this from my cat. And I’m guilty as charged. I could have done a whole lot more learning about my new magical ability, but I didn’t. My slipshod ways are about to change.”
“Have you discussed this with Viktor and Recco and Daide?”
Juan nodded his head. “Yes, we just did. We’ll have some downtime while we ride out the storm. All of us viewed it as a good opportunity to get started rectifying our sins.” He narrowed his eyes. “I do wish we had books. I’m used to learning that way—by reading how something works and then putting it into practice.”
An image of one of the Shifters’ reference rooms in the basement of a hunting lodge outside Colorado Springs formed in her mind. “We have libraries, but obviously not here. Several are scattered throughout the United States, Europe, and the Far East in well-concealed locations where they’ll remain safe from prying eyes.”
“Good to know, but none of them will help me right now. Hopefully, your sourcebooks survived. Maybe someday, I’ll be lucky enough to stumble across a few, but by then, I won’t need them. Come on. One more deck to batten down, and then we can go back inside. Chilly out here, and that storm is nearly upon us.”
As if his words bent the weather to his will, a snowflake landed on her face, followed by several more. The wind developed a howling, keening aspect, reminiscent of a devil child crying. Not to be outdone, waves slapped the hull.
“I hear the wind. Why isn’t the water rougher?” She followed him up three sets of metal risers and along a walkway spanning both sides of the bridge.
“The geography of this cove protects it. The wind is above us. Most of it will remain there.” He flashed a smile her way. “Those old seamen who built these whaling stations were tough, but they were smart too. They understood the importance of having a place to wait out storms and keep their ships from foundering.”
Aura glanced at the huddle of buildings, what was left of Grytviken. Three ships were partially sunk in the shallow waters near shore, their masts rising from the bay like horns from prehistoric monsters. “Guess those boats weren’t so lucky.”
“Two were abandoned, and one ran aground.”
“My own personal guide.”
Juan shrugged. “Goes with the territory. You’re not the first person to ask about the wrecks.”
“I have an idea.” Aura stepped in front of him before he could pull open the door that led inside.
He moved so close their bodies were almost touching. Having him this near was intoxicating. He smelled like wild things and greenery with the sharp tang of the sea mixed in.
“I have a few ideas myself.” He latched his gaze onto hers. “You first.”
Her belly tightened with wanting him, but it wasn’t why she’d stopped him from going inside.
Focus!
Get a grip.
“I propose a trade.” She tilted her chin upward to avoid the temptation of crashing her mouth against his and sinking her hands into his glorious hair.
“What exactly will we be trading?” His voice was raspy, thick with promise and need.
“Don’t do that.” She took a jerky step back. “Damn, but you’re hard to resist.”
“Don’t do what?” The smoldering aspect fled from his eyes, replaced by a sly innocence.
“You know what. You’re oozing come-fuck-me vibes.”
Juan tossed his head back and laughed. “Oh, that. Good you noticed. I’m woefully out of practice. Sorry. I’ll do my damnedest to behave better, but you’re not making it easy.”
Aura took a ragged breath—and one more step back. “You know a lot about this part of the world. I know a lot about magic. The trade I had in mind was swapping knowledge.”
A broad smile spread across his face, turning his striking appearance into something so beautiful she couldn’t look away. “Smooth. Very smooth.” He tilted his head to one side. “I accept, but if we’re going to turn Arkady into Hogwarts for adults, it should include all four of us brand new Shifters.”
Aura giggled and then began to laugh.
“What’s so funny, woman?”
She smiled back at him. “First off, it feels really, really good to laugh. There were years when I didn’t so much as giggle. I was laughing because of your Hogwarts analogy. There used to be a world out there, one all of us took for granted. Shared fictional places were part of it.”
Juan’s expression became serious. He extended an arm and cupped the side of her face in one calloused palm. “We’ll build a new world. Those of us who are left. And create our own mythologies, kind of like a phoenix rising from the ashes.”
“I hope so.”
She leaned into his touch. Maybe it was a bad idea, but he had the soul of a poet on top of all the other things she craved in him. For a tantalizingly delicious moment, she allowed herself to believe they might have a chance as a couple, that the world would hang together long enough to explore the attraction thrumming through her body.
Snow was falling harder, and the green-painted deck was almost white.
Juan pulled the glass door open and motioned her through.
“Why no sea doors up here?” she asked.
“Because the waves rarely make it to this deck. Now, the place you found me three decks down takes a real beating in rough seas.”
Memories of being seasick engulfed her at the mention of rough seas. Next time they ventured into the open ocean, she’d accept Karin’s ministrations right away.
Viktor glanced up from where he stood next to the chart table. “Back, I see,” he said to Juan.
“Excellent powers of observation.” Juan stared back.
Aura shifted her gaze from one man to the other. What the hell? They sounded like two tomcats circling one another, spoiling for a fight.
“Did you change your mind?” Viktor asked.
“Nope. Nor do I plan to.”
“Change your mind about what?” Aura was done keeping her mouth shut.
“We’re going to go snag us some Vampire ass,” Recco said brightly and punched Daide’s upper arm.
“What? The ones in the barracks, or did some others show up?” Aura closed her teeth over her lower lip. Vampires hadn’t been much of a threat to Shifters before the Cataclysm, but she’d be damned if she’d ever underestimate them again.
“Yeah, the ones under the barracks,” Juan confirmed. “I can’t see leaving them there. They’ll never go away. If the world recovers and ships stop here again, it’s not right for a gaggle of unsuspecting humans to fall prey to something we could have subverted.”
“Do you honestly believe there’s even one human left anywhere on Earth who hasn’t developed a healthy respect for magic?” Viktor inquired.
“Beyond the point.” Juan strode across the well-appointed space sporting polished wood panels and a nubby, non-skid gray floor. He stopped a foot away from Viktor. “Why are you so dead set against it?”
“We shouldn’t take unnecessary risks.” Viktor crossed his arms over his chest.
“I agree in principle, but it’s not much of a risk, and it will clear Grytviken of any taint, make it habitable again.”
The closed-off aspect in Viktor’s face altered. “You always loved this old whaling village. I’d forgotten.”
Juan nodded. “Yeah
. I fell in love with Shackleton’s heart and courage when I was still in short pants. He’d turn over in his grave”—Juan stabbed a finger at the windows providing a clear view of Grytviken—“if he knew we walked away from something that needed doing.”
“Walking away definitely wasn’t his style,” Viktor agreed, his tone carefully neutral.
Aura recognized an opportunity and jumped on it with both feet. “Hey! What a great way to practice some of the magic you’ll have learned.”
The door at the back of the bridge swooshed open, admitting Ketha and Rowana and Zoe. Ketha’s pleasant expression faded. “Jesus. You could cut the air in here with a very dull knife. What’s going on?”
Instead of answering, Aura fired back a question of her own. “Have you scryed the future lately?”
“Yeah. It’s why I’m here.”
“I cast a tarot spread to help tack some parts down,” Zoe added.
“I was only along for the ride.” Rowana shoved thick silver hair back from her face.
The gesture told Aura the other Shifter was underplaying her role, and that she was worried. She must have been with Ketha when she dropped into a trance, possibly supporting her vision with additional magic.
“Looks to me like we need all of us.” Aura spaced out her words for emphasis.
“I already said as much.” Ketha sent a sidelong glance skittering across the space between them.
“No, you didn’t,” Aura protested. “You said you were here because you’d gotten a hit about what’s coming down the pike.”
Ketha trotted to the microphone mounted above the chart table. Keying it, she said, “Bridge, everyone. Soon as you can.” She set the microphone back in its cradle. “This was why I needed to be here. So I could use that.”
“Focus, people,” Viktor raised his voice for emphasis. “For starters, how many plans are out there for teaching us more about being Shifters? Ketha has her ideas, and it appears Aura is working on something different.”
“Are you?” Ketha twisted until she faced Aura.
“I had something cooking.” Aura bristled, not liking Ketha’s tone or expression. “I have no idea if it’s the same or different from what you have in mind.”
“I was going to discuss it as a group—before I looked into my glass and got sidetracked.”
“I was too, minus the being sidetracked part.” Aura battled defensiveness. She inhaled raggedly to keep from blurting out words that would be even more divisive. Like telling Ketha to get lost. After all, Aura’s bond animal had been the one to bring the problem with the men’s bondmates to her attention—
Rowana stepped between them; soothing energy flowed from her, but Aura turned away. A part of her felt small, petty, but she didn’t want to kiss and make up. The magical curriculum was her project. She should take the lead—
“Stop it,” her cat growled. “This was never about you. You faced great evil today. Do not let its poison taint your judgment.”
Its statements brought her up short, but she didn’t trust herself to say anything. Not yet. Was residue from her skirmish with the devil affecting her? Making her suspicious of her dearest friend’s intentions?
They were so few, and their survival so uncertain, the last thing they needed were internal squabbles. She took a deep breath, blew it out, and did it again. “It’s all right.” She aimed her words at Rowana.
“Is it?” Ketha sounded as friendly as a wolf guarding a fresh kill.
“Yes,” Aura replied. “I’m sorry if I stepped on your toes. Let’s try this one again from the top.”
The harsh set of Ketha’s shoulders deflated, and she shook herself. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what got into me, but we need to dissect and interpret the vision I had.”
Chapter Eight: A Newer Evil
Juan didn’t understand the increasing hostility in the room. Everyone was on edge. Had they picked up some magical virus in Grytviken? One that would urge them to turn on one another like a pack of feral dogs? The thought was disquieting.
Did it have something to do with the Vampires, since they’d ousted the demon?
He focused his attention on Ketha to calm her concerns. “Before we get to your vision, Aura wasn’t trying to steal your thunder. She offered assistance, fast-tracking my Shifter magic. Earlier, Viktor mentioned you wanted to develop something along those same lines. I say the more the merrier. My cat’s not very happy with me, and it has every right to feel disappointed—and annoyed. Up until earlier today, I fooled around with the fun parts of being a Shifter and ignored everything else.”
Ketha walked to where Aura stood. “Why didn’t you mention it?”
“Because I just came up with the idea in the last hour, and you never gave me a chance.”
“Fair enough. Didn’t mean to jump all over you.”
“I know. Me, either.” Aura glanced around the bridge. “Are we all in agreement about lessons in magic, no matter how they happen or who ends up teaching them?”
“I’m in,” Recco said.
“Me too,” Daide seconded. “My coyote quit speaking to me a while back. I’ve been worried it deserted me.”
“Why didn’t you let one of us know?” Worry sparked from Aura’s eyes.
Daide looked away. Color rose from his neck to his forehead, making the sharp planes of his Native features even more pronounced. “I was ashamed. I understood what it wanted, and I kept promising it I’d do better. Except something always intervened, and I got tired of it nagging me. It’s a weak excuse, but we were pretty slammed in Ushuaia.”
“Did you tell it to leave you alone?” Rowana asked. The kind aspect left her face, and she could have passed for one of the Furies with sparks flying from her dark eyes.
“’Fraid I might have,” Daide admitted. “I’ve tried to apologize, begged it to return, but the place it lives in my head has been empty.” Naked pain carved into his features. “I miss it. I’d give anything to have it back.”
“It will be all right.” Aura grabbed Rowana’s arm.
“How can you know?” Rowana demanded. “The bond is fragile when it first forms. Daide might have angered his bondmate to the point it—”
“I know because my cat’s been in communication with the men’s bond animals. All of them.”
Ketha’s eyes widened; so did Rowana’s.
“I’m guessing that’s unusual?” Juan ventured.
“Very,” Aura replied, but stopped short of adding anything further.
“If you know something about my coyote, tell me,” Daide pleaded. “I love animals. It’s why I became a veterinarian.”
“Sure wasn’t for the money,” Recco muttered.
“Truer words were never spoken.” Daide elbowed him.
“The bond animals are willing to work with all of you.” Aura moved her gaze from one man’s face to the next. “But they need to see immediate and sustained effort on your parts. Actions to convince them they didn’t choose badly when they bonded with you.”
Daide’s dark eyes filled with optimism. “I can do it. No. I commit to doing it. Please have your cat convey the message.”
“No need,” Aura said. “Your coyote never left, and it knows what’s in your mind and heart.”
Juan was encouraged by Daide’s naked display of emotion. It gave him hope they hadn’t damaged their relationships with their animals beyond repair. He focused on Viktor. “While we’re waiting for the others, what’s up with you?”
The other man dragged a hand down his face. “Not an easy question to answer.”
Ketha moved to his side and wrapped an arm around him. “You haven’t said anything, but your sleep’s been restless.”
Concern streamed from Viktor as he regarded his wife. “Have I kept you awake?”
“No, love.”
A corner of his mouth twisted downward, and for a moment he seemed like the old Viktor with a sardonic sense of humor on display. He hadn’t answered the question about what was bothering him,
though. Before Juan could come at it from another direction, the eight other women filed into the bridge in groups of twos and threes.
“What was so important?” Tessa glanced around the small space. Her dark hair was in its usual collection of braids, and her dark eyes brimmed with curiosity. Like the rest of them, she was dressed in a collection of insulated outerwear appropriated from the ship’s supplies. A rust-colored jacket was zipped to her chin.
Ketha walked to the windowed side of the bridge and turned to face everyone. “I did what I could to tease out what we’ll face when we leave here. It’s easier to only say this once when we’re all here and can discuss what it might mean.”
Viktor set his jaw in a tense line. “Discuss what it means? The last vision you had about the Cataclysm was clear enough.”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “Each experience is different. Then I asked a very specific question about what would be needed to defeat the Cataclysm. Today, my search was more general. I wanted to know if the Vampires here were an anomaly, or if others survived. I also wanted some sense of what we might find if we sail farther east, as opposed to west toward Australia or north along the South American coastline.”
Juan leaned forward, intent on not missing a word. “What’d you find?”
Ketha screwed her face into a frown. “It’s not an easy question to answer.”
“I’ll say,” Rowana muttered.
Viktor made come-along motions. “Start with the Vampire problem.”
A flash of annoyance flared from Ketha’s golden eyes, and Juan bit back a smile. Viktor might be her husband, but she didn’t take kindly to being ordered about.
Viktor must have picked up on her irritation because he added, “Please.”
Ketha nodded; a muscle twitched beneath one eye. “The place I searched first was our old home near Jackson, Wyoming. Figured since I had ties there, it might come into focus for me.” A shadow flickered across her face, pain laced with resignation.
“That bad?” Juan asked.
“Worse,” Rowana answered in a taut, no-nonsense tone.
“If my vision was accurate—and there’s no way of knowing for certain—not much is left. I didn’t see any of our Shifter kin, but I did see a Vampire.”