by Bianca D'Arc
Keeping that in mind, Dante set out with Megan, taking the lead and keeping to the shadows between the smaller boats as much as possible. They had quite a distance to traverse. Boats of many sizes were all connected by a network of skinny pathways that bounced up and down on the water as they walked.
There was no direct route to the yacht. Instead, they had to make their way over a series of connected walkways that led like a maze toward their goal. There was some advantage to the circuitous route, providing them darkened spaces between smaller boats for cover and places where they could stop and observe their destination.
Dante called a halt when they were nearing their goal. He wanted to take a minute to scout out the area. Chances were, there was something foul waiting for them in their not too distant future. Siobhan wouldn’t have left her hiding place unguarded. Not after the things they had encountered at her home.
Megan grabbed his hand as he saw movement on the deck of the boat they were heading for. Someone had come up from below and was doing something on deck. It was a man. An older fellow. Definitely not Siobhan. Maybe her father?
Megan pulled at his arm as he moved forward. “This smells bad,” she muttered, sniffing the air. “It smells like…”
“What?” Dante asked while in motion. He was heading for the boat more quickly now, intent on his target.
“Dante, stop!” She tugged at him urgently, her voice pitched low so only he could hear it.
“What’s the matter?”
“That’s—” She broke off as a blinding pain crashed through her skull. The heel of her hand ground against the pain between her eyes. “Oh Goddess!”
“What is it?” Dante crouched to next to her as she doubled over in pain. “You know him?”
It was all she could do to nod her head as the magical prohibition did everything it could to stop her. Dante must’ve realized what was going on. He supported her by the elbows and dragged her into a shadowed aisle between two boats where no one could see them.
“It’s your keeper, isn’t it?” Dante’s expression was grim. “That’s the only thing that could be causing you such pain.”
She tried to nod again, but wasn’t sure if she actually made any movement. The malevolent magic held her in its grip, denying her the ability to identify the man she’d seen on the deck of the yacht.
“Dammit! I hope Duncan is watching. If that man is the one who did this to you, we’ll need Duncan’s special touch to overpower him.” Dante stood, peering over the top of the boat they were crouched behind, though Megan tried desperately to draw him back.
Fear rose within her, choking her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—a cold dread that seeped into her very bones. She, who feared little in life, was deathly afraid now, facing a man she’d known for many years. She knew how cold Poferov could be. She’d experienced his frigid demeanor and soulless cunning many times.
She’d never dared to go against him. She wasn’t sure she had the courage to do so now. She was nearly paralyzed with fear on Dante’s behalf should he confront Poferov in any way.
“Don’t!” she whispered, fighting with all her might against the compulsion not to speak. “He’s too dangerous.”
Dante crouched down beside her once more, cupping her cheek in one powerful hand. The look in his eyes told her much. She read sympathy, caring and a ghost of something that could have been love, were they both free to feel such things for each other. It warmed her to think this brave man could be so gentle with her when faced with such danger. She hated the fact that she’d ushered such evil to his doorstep and involved him in her problems.
That Poferov was involved in this at all was her fault. Megan felt the weight of it in her heart and on her conscience. She felt like she had brought this upon them. Her mistake, her vulnerability, her stupidity in believing the lie the Altor Custodis agent had perpetrated upon her and her family. Why hadn’t she questioned it before? Why had she blindly believed? Simply because her mother had?
“Will you be all right here, Megan? I don’t think you should go any closer. Let me handle this.”
His voice was a balm to her bleeding soul. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Dante.” Her broken whisper sounded painful even to her own ears.
He shushed her gently, drawing her close for a short moment. “Stay here. Stay hidden. I will slay your dragon, sweetheart, and then we can celebrate together—just us two.”
The promise in his eyes was nearly her undoing. If she could be free from Poferov’s control—if Dante could kill him—her blood would be cleansed of his evil magic. She would be free to be with Dante as she knew he desperately wanted and needed. She wanted it too. She wanted to feel the bite of his fangs into her skin, the reward of his passion as he took her essence into himself. She wanted to share everything she was with him—if only for as long as it could last.
She didn’t delude herself with dreams of forever. She and Dante could only have a short time together, but she vowed to make the best of it.
“Will you be all right?” he asked tenderly.
A single tear trickled down her cheek as she nodded. He kissed it away and gave her a soft smile.
“Stay alert and stay here. I’ll come for you when it’s done.”
“Be careful,” she managed to whisper, though Poferov’s tainted magic tried to silence her.
Dante grinned devilishly as he moved away, heading toward danger. She realized he was in his element, the warrior in him reveling in the fight to come. She watched him make his way between the boats in the row they had taken shelter in. There was an open space and then another row of boats before he reached the final approach to the yacht.
Unencumbered by her presence, Dante shifted form into a black-coated leopard, prowling silently toward his objective. Because he used a different sort of magic to shift than a were, his clothes went with him, absorbed in the shift. She couldn’t manage that and often lamented the need to undress and stash her clothes somewhere before she shifted to wolf form.
Dante’s power was different. The big cat form he’d chosen tonight was both lethal and sexy. Megan admired his skill in shifting and the way he moved in the cat’s skin as she watched him edge closer to their objective.
Poferov was no longer visible on deck, but she didn’t take comfort in that. Instead, she worried more. Had the bastard seen them? Was he just waiting to spring some trap or launch a strike against Dante? The thought made her queasy.
“Oh, Goddess!” she whispered, followed by a deeply felt prayer for Dante’s safety. “Please watch over him, Lady.” Another tear rolled down her cheek, the chilly night air stinging her eyes as she watched his progress.
“Does he really mean so much to you?” a strange voice sounded from below.
Megan gasped and started violently. Thankfully, she was hidden between the smaller boats. Looking around wildly, she realized the voice had come from the water. A wet hand rose to the wooden dock from between it and the nearest boat.
She would have screamed if her vocal cords weren’t already frozen with fear. Megan scooted away from the ghostly hand as fast as she could, crab-walking on her hands and feet backward, away from the apparition.
She hit something and could go no further, ready to scream when another wet hand clamped over her mouth and a man’s hard arm clutched her around the middle, dragging her back into his embrace. Her back was to the stranger’s chest, and she could feel he was soaking wet and massive. He had muscles on his muscles, and his voice was a dark whisper at her ear.
“Calm down, little wolf. We’re here to help.”
She struggled as the hand still on the dock was joined by a second one. A moment later, a naked man propelled himself out of the water to land on the dock. She’d sensed the magic thick in the air around them.
They were shifters. She stilled. Perhaps these were the water were Kevin had mentioned.
“Ah, you begin to understand.”
The one behind her eased his grip and took his hand
from her mouth slowly, no doubt ready to act if she started to scream.
“You’re were?” she asked, needing confirmation to calm her racing heart.
“Sorry we scared you.” The one in front of her spoke in low tones that didn’t carry over the water. “We’ve been watching the yacht. Nasty fellow on board. I hope your bloodletter friend is armed for bear.”
“Dante,” she whispered, her gaze seeking him. The black cat was just visible as it slunk toward the last of the smaller boats that provided cover. She turned to the water shifters. “Please, you have to help him. I-I can’t. There’s a binding on me.” Even to speak the words was difficult as the pain returned. “The man on the boat…he did this to me…without my consent or knowledge.” Daggers stabbed into her skull as she fought against the compulsion. “Please, help Dante. Please.” She subsided and huddled on the deck, pain slicing through her head as the evil magic had its way with her.
She watched the water shifters as they looked at each other, then at the boat where Dante was headed.
“Be at ease, little sister of the land,” the one behind her said as he touched her temple. In a flash, the pain was reduced to manageable levels, but it wasn’t completely gone.
“Must be a powerful mage to do this to a young wolf in her prime,” the other one muttered.
Megan nodded through her tears. They were leaking out of her eyes uncontrollably now, both in pain and fear for Dante. She absolutely hated being helpless. But these men could help. She just knew it. She just needed to convince them.
There was one thing she could say that would both convince them to help and warn them of what they were up against. She didn’t know if she could speak the word without passing out, yet she had to try. For Dante’s sake.
She grabbed the arm of the man behind her, struggling to speak. “He’s…evil. He’s… he’s… Venifucus.”
She saw the man’s face darken as his eyes narrowed. As she’d suspected, these were men of integrity. They recognized the threat.
“Goodmorrow, gents.”
Duncan chose that moment to reveal himself. His armor was in place but darkened to a gleaming midnight glow to conceal him in the dark. The two water were were startled by his quick appearance. They didn’t seem afraid even as they flinched. Rather, they seemed impressed. And once they got a good look at Duncan in his ethereal armor, their whole manner changed.
A low-voiced conversation ensued between the three men. It was in a language Megan didn’t understand. It was hushed and quick. Rapid fire. It sounded faintly like Gaelic, but she couldn’t be sure.
The two men seemed to defer to Duncan in some indefinable way, yet treated him as an equal. Megan didn’t completely understand the dynamics of the situation. Yet it was clear to her that Duncan had their respect. Now, if only he could convince them to help Dante.
They spoke for less than a minute. All the while Dante was putting himself closer to danger. Megan watched him as best she could from behind the boat, but his black-furred body and the docked boats made it hard to see him. She thought he was in the last row of boats by now, preparing to make the final leap through the open space of the walkway that led to their target.
The urgency of the situation made her blood run cold.
“Duncan,” she whispered. “He needs you now. He’s almost to the yacht.”
The fey knight looked up sharply, assessing the situation for himself. Immediately he turned to the water were and spoke a few short sentences. The two men shifted as they slipped silently into the water, and Megan got a quick glimpse of what looked like giant seals as they cut into the depths and disappeared below. They shifted form like other were, but she’d never seen anything like them in her life.
She knew now the myths and legends that had sprung up over the centuries about their kind were wrong. Selkies didn’t need to put on and take off their seal skins like a coat. They shifted form just like other were, but even she could tell, they were a lot more magical.
“They’re going to help him?” she asked Duncan as he too, headed toward the yacht.
“Stay put, lass. We’ll take care of this.” He winked at her before heading away from her, toward danger.
Chapter Fourteen
Dante crouched low in the concealment of the second to last boat in the row. The man was no longer visible on the deck of the yacht. In this form however, Dante could smell him. He smelled foul to the cat’s senses. Evil.
After seeing the way his presence affected Megan, he wasn’t surprised by the odor. He was taken aback by its intensity though. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been, but there it was. Megan had to be even stronger than he’d thought to have faced this kind of evil and still retained her self. A lesser soul would have succumbed a long time ago.
He watched, using the stalking skills of the cat. Crouching lower to the deck, he sensed a disturbance in the water beneath him. Unsure, he didn’t know what to make of the currents he could feel through the thin wood of the walkway.
He backed off a second before a dark face broke the water. It was a seal. And if he wasn’t much mistaken, a magical one at that.
One advantage to Dante’s type of shifting was his ability to speak while in animal form. It wasn’t always pretty, but for the most part it was understandable, depending on what form he chose to take. He regarded the dark face, his whiskers twitching, taking in information.
“Sssselkie?” he asked, the cat’s mouth making the sibilants ring, even in a whisper.
The head bobbed up and down, and the nose pointed to his left. As Dante watched, a human hand rose from the water, followed quickly by a man’s head.
“We’ll help.” His voice was pitched low and terse. “The wolf is in pain. She knows we’re here, as does the fey. He’s coming. We’ll cover the water. There were some nasty things set beneath the yacht. We took care of most of it when we first arrived. Whoever did the work was not a true watermage.”
“Thanksssss,” Dante said as the two selkies disappeared soundlessly below the surface of the dark water. When this was all over, he’d like to talk with these seal shifters. They were good at disappearing. In all his years, he’d never seen the like.
Dante sensed Duncan’s approach and decided to wait for him. Their original plan had been for Duncan to hang back in reserve while Dante and Megan confronted Siobhan if she was on the yacht. The presence of Megan’s Altor Custodis keeper changed everything.
Megan was out of the action until her keeper could be stopped. Killed preferably. Dante wasn’t entirely sure he would have enough power to neutralize such a potent mage all by himself. With Duncan’s help though, the scales tipped in their favor—or so he hoped.
Duncan sidled up beside him. Dante’s focus was on the yacht, but he was aware of Duncan’s presence. He spared him only a quick glance, pleasantly surprised by the dim glow of his armor—now black steel for night work. It had been a long time since Dante had seen that particular talent of Duncan’s. Fighting side by side with the half-fey knight brought back memories of a time long past.
Here they were, centuries later, still facing evil together. And the evil hadn’t changed much either. The Venifucus may have hidden, but they’d never been completely annihilated. They’d been foolish to believe otherwise.
“Megan is laying low. You and I should do this together, my friend. And we have friends in the water.”
Dante shifted back to human form, making a quick decision to face this on two legs rather than four. His black clothing returned to his body in the magical shift that took only a small fraction of his power.
“We’ve met. They said they would guard from below and intercept anything that’s been set in the water.”
“There are no finer warriors in such situations. I believe we’ll have no trouble from below.”
Dante nodded quickly. Duncan was more knowledgeable about selkies than he was.
“Then I suppose we must lay siege to the yacht. Any preference as to how?” Dante raised one eyebrow in challe
nge.
“I follow your lead, my friend. Challenge the mage and while he is busy with you, I will take his measure and counterstrike.”
“It’s a good plan.” Dante had a few skills. Hopefully he’d be able to fend off the mage until Duncan could join the fray. “All right. I’m ready when you are.”
“No time like the present.”
The two old comrades shared a smile. They’d done this many times before but not often in recent memory. Dire as the situation was, it felt good to be taking action. Dante knew without asking that Duncan understood. Both of them were old campaigners. They’d fought many battles together, laid siege to castles, taken strategic positions and stormed the gates many times.
Each time could have been their last. Somehow, they had always prevailed. They’d taken their share of lumps, but they had always ended as the victors. Dante sent a quick prayer skyward for a similar good result.
This time a woman’s life hung in the balance. Megan had been sent to spy on Dante, so if he showed up in a battle against her keeper, there was no doubt the mage would know his spy had turned. Megan’s life would be forfeit if Dante failed.
Regardless, she couldn’t go on this way. The poison in her blood, the magical prohibitions placed on her mind—that was no way to live. For her sake and his own, Dante had to free her from the control of the man on the yacht. He prayed to the Goddess to give him the strength to do so quickly and with as little damage as possible to Megan.
Standing tall, Dante strode out from between the boats, heading directly for the yacht. He didn’t see the man at the rail. He could be on deck. It was a large boat, after all. Dante’s purpose was to draw the mage out so Duncan could get a good look at him both physically and magically. This would be no sneak attack on Dante’s part. No, that honor went to Duncan. With any luck, the mage would think Dante was alone and wouldn’t expect Duncan’s immense magical power.