by Ann Gimpel
“Glad I missed that part. I was relieved when ye pulled the plug on our group grope,” Zoe muttered, her brogue thicker than usual.
“Aura?” Ketha stared right at her.
“My experience was a mixed bag.” Aura searched for a precise, factual explanation, one she wouldn’t dither through. But how could she assign facts to something as unexplainable as what she feared lay in wait for them? Ketha’s gaze never left her face, almost as if she were hoping Aura would say something to countermand her worst fears.
Aura swallowed around a narrow place in her throat. “What we’re all worried about is the Cataclysm, right?” Assent burned in the circle of eyes trained on her.
“Not so much worried,” Juan spoke up, “as confused. How could we break it in Ushuaia and have it remain active elsewhere? I didn’t see any evidence of it in Buenos Aires. Does it mean South America escaped? If that’s true, why not the rest of the world?”
A crooked smile wanted out, but she pushed it aside. Juan sounded a lot like graduate students in the life that had been ripped out from under her. Serious. Dedicated. Intensely focused on the problem at hand.
“First off”—Ketha stepped in—“we don’t know enough about what fueled the Cataclysm to answer any of those questions. My hypothesis was if we recreated the energy spawning it, the original casting would run through to its conclusion. I assumed that would fix things. It may have partially.”
She glanced from one man to the next. “The four of you aren’t Vamps anymore. Might mean the Cataclysm is in its death throes—if it remains anywhere at all.”
“The ones beneath the barracks seem alive and well,” Recco countered.
“Yeah. Why us and not them?” Daide added on the heels of Recco’s words.
Juan furled his brows. “Maybe something happens to Vamps in stasis. Some alterations at the cellular level might have made them resistant to changing.” He elbowed Recco who stood next to him. “What do you think? You have medical training.”
Rather than answering, Recco focused on Ketha. “What exactly did you filch from the lab in Grytviken?”
“Two decent microscopes. Chemicals. Slides. A selection of instruments.” She hesitated. “It’s possible the reagents won’t be particularly effective. They’ve all passed their expiration dates—by years.”
“The ship’s infirmary has a rather basic microscope,” Karin spoke up. “Sorry. I should have mentioned it earlier. I’m still taking inventory. I’d have been done, except I was busy taking care of everyone who got seasick.”
“Great. Means we have three,” Ketha replied.
“Reason I asked,” Recco went on, “is because we can compare biologic samples from the Vamps under the barracks with our own. Once we’ve taken them down, that is.”
“Not sure how much good it will do,” Daide broke in, “since we’re not Vampires anymore.”
Viktor made a noise somewhere between a snarl and a growl but didn’t clarify it with words.
Rowana moved to Ketha’s side and faced the others. “Science aside for the moment. I’ve been replaying the spell we hatched up to get rid of Vampires. What I fear is it altered the architecture of the world’s magical underpinnings. Have any of you examined the ley lines? Really looked at them?”
Aura shut her eyes for a moment, recreating the pattern the ley lines formed when she’d seen them near the gift shop in Grytviken. Nothing amiss stood out. She walked close enough to touch Rowana’s arm. “Tell me how they appear to you.”
The older Shifter twisted her mouth into a scowl. “It’s not immediately obvious, but if you study the junctions where the lines bisect, there are notches in the corners. Like a hungry mouse decided to feed himself.”
“Do you believe the lines are eroding?” Aura asked.
Rowana clasped her hands together so tightly, the knuckles whitened. “Yes. Worse than that, if we don’t intervene, make them whole again somehow, I have no idea what will happen.”
“We don’t have a clue when the damage happened or over how extensive a period of time,” Aura muttered. “It might have been a by-product of the Cataclysm.”
“Sure,” Rowana agreed. “Or it could have happened yesterday. No way of knowing, but I will keep a close eye on them now we know they’ve developed flaws.”
“What exactly are they?” Viktor asked.
“The short answer,” Ketha replied, “is ley lines are magical, mystical alignments. They’ve been around since the dawn of time. One school of thought believes they carry both negative and positive psychic energy. Where two or more lines converge, it paves the way for great power and energy to flourish. Sacred sites, places like Stonehenge, Glastonbury Tor, Sedona, and Machu Picchu sit at the convergence of several lines.”
Daide made a snorting sound. “I always thought magical anything was so much fluff. But then I didn’t believe in Vampires, either. Or anything beyond the world under my microscope.”
Aura spoke up and hoped she didn’t sound pedantic—or defensive. “Even without a shred of magic, you can detect a ley line by metaphysical means, like pendulums or dowsing rods.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t believe in them, either,” Daide said.
“None of us did.” Juan glanced at Rowana. “So the damage is where the lines converge?”
“Precisely, which is why it’s so dangerous,” she replied. “The places holding the most power are—or were—under systematic attack.” She pursed her mouth into a harsh expression. “I suspect the process began after that perverted spell in Siberia ten years ago, so it’s had a spot of time to establish itself.”
“Is it spontaneous?” Juan asked. “Or part of a nefarious plan to create anarchy?”
“I have no idea.” Aura opened her fisted hands, stretching fingers that had begun to hurt. At least she had a hook to hang her earlier feelings of impending doom on. She turned back to Ketha and jerked her chin at the whiteboard. “Any more ideas about your sketch?”
“Yes. One. Maybe the ley line problem is why everything from here up”—she pointed north from the center of her drawing—“fuzzed out. Probably what I saw in Wyoming during my earlier trance wasn’t the least bit accurate.”
“Why would the twelve of you see something different from one another?” Juan asked.
Aura shrugged. “We’re all Shifters, but the gift manifests differently in each of us. It would be true of any Shifter. Our magic is similar in many respects, but unique in others.”
“Aye,” Zoe broke in. “’Tis why Ketha is a seer and Karin a healer. Some of us are more skilled with tarot than others. Beyond surface variations, we each work the four elements somewhat uniquely. For example, fire and air is my strongest blend.”
“And water potentiates my spells,” Ketha murmured. “Along with earth.”
“When will we discover special talents—or if we have any?” Viktor asked.
“You beat me to the draw, amigo.” Juan nodded at his friend.
“Those are all things we can work on when we begin our classes in Shifter magic,” Aura said.
“We’ll develop those sessions as a group,” Ketha spoke up. “All of us.”
Aura swallowed hard, remembering how she and Ketha had nearly come to blows over the same topic. “I can only speak for me, but I sense a negative undercurrent. We all seem edgy. It has to be more than a by-product of those miserable days crossing the Scotia Sea when I was hanging on by my fingernails.”
“Aye. I feel it too,” Zoe said. “My skill is as an empath. I see emotions as well as feel them. Everyone’s aura—visual energy field—appears far more intense and multifaceted.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Aura countered. “My bondmate is convinced the wickedness we faced earlier left a residue that’s affecting us. Or at least me.”
“It could be right. I kept quiet because we have enough problems, and I didn’t wish to add to them,” Zoe replied. “Besides, I wasn’t certain if it was me being hypersensitive because of how ill I was during
the crossing.”
“Maybe we’re reacting to emanations from the not-dead-yet Vamps,” Viktor muttered.
“Or the demon in the church,” Ketha suggested. “Churches have their own energy. Remember what Aura said about determining power points using tools available to those with zero magic?”
“Of course. What about the church?” Viktor asked.
“Most of them are built on places ley lines intersect,” Ketha went on. “Clergy use tools at their disposal to determine the most auspicious place to build. You know that sense of...differentness? The alteration you sense when you enter a church? Well, it’s a by-product of how successful the pastor or priest or whoever picked the particular spot was.”
Ketha grabbed an eraser and cleared her depiction of the world. Once she had a clean surface, she drew a line down the center of the board. On one side she wrote, Shifter Syllabus. On the other, Tasks in Grytviken. She hesitated and then added, Examine ley lines next to church and Vampires?? under the Tasks list.
Viktor strode to her side and hoisted himself up onto the broad, flat chart table. “Let’s talk about those Vamps,” he said. “It appears I’m the one with the strongest feelings about leaving them alone.”
“What do you think will happen if we open their prison?” Juan trained his hazel eyes on Viktor.
“What do I think? Or what am I afraid of?” Without waiting for Juan to respond, he went on. “The edginess Aura and Zoe alluded to? It’s had me firmly in its grip since I first got a whiff of Vampire when I was walking the beach road.” He paused for a beat. “At first, I chalked it up to not being in control. You’d think I’d have gotten used to it, playing lackey to Raphael”—he snorted—“but I managed my antipathy by promising myself I’d kill him someday.”
“What do you think now?” Juan asked. “Not about Raph, but about your uneasiness. And letting the Vamps out so we can kill them.”
“Yeah, I never exactly answered you, did I?” Viktor’s nostrils flared. “When you were insistent about taking care of them, my first concern was how the fuck I’d manage Arkady without you—”
“Why were you so certain I’d be killed?” Juan cut in and smiled crookedly. “You used to have more faith in me.”
“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure it out. I’m not usually quite so self-serving, either.”
“Did you ask your raven?” Ketha raised one brow into a question mark.
Viktor shrugged. “Now, there’s where the other list”—he angled his head toward the whiteboard—“would come in handy. Do we involve our bond animals at the front end of every problem?”
A chorus of yesses rang around the room, along with one aye from Zoe. Aura smiled grimly as she remembered the months they’d spent in Ushuaia after they’d trounced the Cataclysm. Time which could have been spent teaching not only the four men here, but every single newly-minted Shifter about their magic. Even Raphael had taken the time to ensure his brand-new Vamps understood what it meant to be a Vampire.
Damn, but they’d been remiss. Part of her screamed they should return to Ushuaia immediately to correct their lack of foresight, but wicked powers were in ascendency. The Shifters left in Ushuaia would have to figure things out on their own. At least some of them would manage, and it was too late to worry about the others. Icy heat still tingling the length of her back was a sure sign she was on the right track: they had to focus all their energies on making sure they remained alive.
Once they’d killed its vessel, the fucking demon had run straight back to Hell for reinforcements. Whatever showed up next would do its damnedest to interrupt their planned exploration to discover what was left of the world.
“Aura.” Ketha snapped her fingers under Aura’s nose.
She started. “Sorry. What?”
“I asked if any of this ties in with a particular prophecy,” Juan said. “Perhaps an end-of-the-world one.” Concern pinched the corners of his eyes into a phalanx of lines.
“I haven’t looked.” Her voice came out flat and strained. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I was kicking myself for not having the foresight to push lessons in Shifter magic to the front end. It’s not just you four. A lot of new Shifters live in Ushuaia.”
“And they don’t have anyone to teach them,” Karin said.
“Och.” Zoe set her lips in a tight line. “Sure and it’s obvious now. Why didn’t any of us think of it then? Two months elapsed before we left the city. We were busy, but we could have prioritized...” She shook her head.
“We can’t go backward.” Aura kept her tone brisk. “How long will this storm last?” she asked Juan.
The snow and sleet battering the glass had been joined by hail. When she peered through the combination, she couldn’t see Grytviken at all.
“My guess, and absent satellite weather feeds it’s not more than that, is two days. Why?”
She took a measured breath and blew it out. “We have to return to the church. We ran out of there so fast, we probably missed a bunch of clues.”
“Clues to what?” Ketha asked.
“The evil doing its damnedest to drive a wedge between us. The deeper we sink into feeling annoyed, irritated, and exasperated with each other, the less chance we’ll figure out what’s really going on.” She paused for a beat. “It’s what’s driving Viktor’s certainty that taking on the Vamps in stasis is wrong. Something wants them to remain right where they are.”
“How can you be certain?” Juan asked.
Aura turned her hands palms up. “Intuition. Hunch. Instinct. Those things drive my magic. I could search for a prophecy, but there’s not much point.”
“How do you sort it out?” Juan asked.
“Sort what out?” Aura looked at him. The earnest expression on his face melted a place deep inside her.
“What’s real and what’s fueled by something trying to control you?”
“It’s a big question,” she replied. “One that fits in with knowing more about your Shifter side. We don’t really need all of us right now. I suggest pairing up with one of the women and spending the next little while working on the blank column on the whiteboard: Shifter Syllabus.”
“Good idea,” Ketha seconded. “This isn’t like Calculus 101 where we need to follow the exact same path for each man. I’ll work with Viktor.” She beckoned, and he walked to the far side of the bridge with her.
“Are you comfortable working with me?” Aura asked Juan.
He smiled broadly. “We already agreed, didn’t we?”
Recco angled his gaze at Zoe. “Will you teach me?”
Color washed across Zoe’s delicate cheekbones. “Certainly. How about if we settle in the dining room? Plenty of space down there.”
“Guess that leaves me.” Daide stood straight, as if he invited closer inspection.
Karin walked to his side. “If you’ll have me, I believe we’d work well together, given our mutual medical backgrounds.”
A relieved smile lit his face, and Aura understood he’d been worried no one would want him because of the dissension between him and his bond animal. “Want to join Recco and Zoe in the dining room?”
“Of course.” Karin turned and led the way out of the bridge with Daide, Recco, and Zoe behind her.
Aura turned to Juan. “Where would you like to settle?”
“The bar on Deck Four? It has space to move around.”
“Perfect.” She set a course for the nearest staircase—the ship was riddled with them—and walked down two decks and along a corridor to the well-appointed bar. Couches lined three of four walls with small tables bolted to the floor. When she’d first boarded Arkady, she’d wondered why all the furniture was attached to something. Not anymore.
A chuckle escaped her.
“I’d like in on the joke,” Juan said as they made their way to a couch. He waited until she was settled to sit near her but left a respectable amount of space between them.
“Nothing important. Musings about things unique t
o ships. Like the furniture being bolted down.”
He muffled something like an amused-sounding snort. “If they weren’t, they would have fallen on a passenger, who would have proceeded to sue us.”
“Yes. I get it now.” Aura turned to him. “That’s not why we’re here, though. Is your mountain cat front and center? It needs to be part of what happens next.”
Juan shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he said, “Yes. And it sounds excited. I’m guessing it’s been waiting for this ever since it hooked up with me.”
“It has. We go to school to learn about our Shifter magic. An extra class once a week at night that begins after we formally bond and continues until we’re done with high school.”
Juan’s eyes widened. “Really? There’s that much to learn? How will I ever hope to absorb so much in the short time we have?”
A rush of warmth raced through her. His humility was quite a counterpoint to the competence she’d seen him demonstrate. Men like him were often resistant to admitting they didn’t know something. They’d done their time as apprentices and weren’t anxious to revert to a novice role.
“What are you thinking?”
“Why would you ask?” she countered. Heat splashed her cheeks. She figured she was blushing and cursed her fair skin.
“Your mind felt busy to me. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be intrusive.”
“It’s all right. One of the things we’ll do is mind-link so our animals are actively included.” She tilted her head and made a decision. There shouldn’t be secrets between them. “I respect your willingness to learn.”
He raked curved fingers through his hair and met her direct gaze. “The sea keeps you humble. Sailors who are convinced they know everything end up at the bottom of the ocean.” He exhaled audibly. “I’ve known lots of them. It’s provided strong incentive to keep an open mind.”
The more he said, the better she liked him, but Aura pushed the personal aside, burying it deep, and held out a hand. “This will be easier if we’re touching.”