Abandoned: Bitter Harvest, Book Three

by Ann Gimpel

  “I don’t know what to think,” Recco said. “All I know is he’s really different than he was when he patched me up after we fought the dragon.”

  They moved into the galley and stood over pans of eggs and biscuits. He and Karin shoveled food into their mouths, any semblance of sitting down forgotten. Recco got it. They needed sustenance, not gracious dining.

  Zoe picked at a biscuit, but her brow was crinkled into concerned lines, and she didn’t offer any ideas.

  Karin spun her fork in a circle. “Makes sense the dragon hunted for a weak link, assuming it recovered somehow. Goddammit. I was certain it was dead.”

  “Daide said it was,” Recco countered.

  “Aye, and look who the messenger was.” Zoe sent a pointed look his way. “It wanted us to believe it was dead.”

  Recco slopped down a cup of tepid coffee, not bothering to add powdered milk. “We can’t leave. Not if the dragon’s going to continue to prey on who’s left at McMurdo.”

  “Let’s not overplay this,” Karin said. “If the sea dragon was functioning at anywhere near a hundred percent, it would be swimming around out there. We injured it. Perhaps made it impossible for its serpent form to cross the veil from wherever it went to ground.”

  “Which doesn’t mean it can’t still sow mischief,” Zoe muttered. “By playing mind games and setting us against one another. Dragons in the old tales were famous for pitting one king against his neighbor. Once they killed one another, it swooped in and ate all their sheep and cattle.”

  Recco finished his biscuit and decided he’d had enough. A nagging wrongness pricked him, making the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He pushed to his feet. “I’m going to find Daide and figure out what’s going on.”

  “We’ll come with you,” Karin said.

  “I’ll tell Ketha via telepathy that we might have a problem. She can alert everyone else.” Zoe gathered their forks, spoons, and knives and dropped them into a nearby sink.

  Recco marched out of the galley and then through the dining room doors, flanked by the women. No matter how much of a pain in the ass Daide had been these last few hours, they went back over twenty years. He’d hold up his end of their friendship not only because it was the proper thing to do, but because he cared about Daide.

  The uncomfortable sensations intensified as they climbed the stairs to Deck Three. “Do you feel that?” he asked, worried the pins and needles poking him from odd angles weren’t real.

  “Of course,” Karin snapped. “I’m trying to determine what the hell it is.”

  “Not the sea dragon.” Zoe’s words held conviction. “My mind was joined to it long enough for me to take its measure.”

  He grabbed her arm. “If it isn’t the dragon, then what the hell is going on?”

  Zoe didn’t answer. She squared her shoulders in a resolute gesture that tugged at his soul. He should be protecting her, not the other way around. Employing magic to interpret the world was far from his strong suit, though.

  A few more steps and they’d be at Daide’s cabin.

  Karin pushed in front of him, hands raised and blue-white light crackling from her fingertips. Zoe mirrored her posture and said, “May as well go in with all our guns blazing.”

  Recco bristled. No matter how much of a neophyte he was in terms of being a Shifter, he’d be goddamned if he’d hide behind two women. He slid in from the side and opened the door to Daide’s cabin in one fluid movement. A putrid stench rolled out—rotten eggs raised to the hundredth power—and shadowy figures flew every which way. They had to be illusion, so he batted at them.

  Behind him, the women crowded in and he heard the cabin door slam shut.

  One of the flying things drove a sharp beak into his shoulder. Recco did look then, appalled the apparitions were real. He seized the crow-like creature that had attacked him, threw it to the floor, and stomped on it. Bones crunched beneath his feet. His orderly, scientifically trained mind demanded explanations, but they’d have to wait. Breaking bones were real enough to tell him they had a big problem.

  Magic sizzled from the women, along with a brilliant flare illuminating the gloom shrouding the cabin. Daide lay on the floor, his spine bent at an unnatural angle and his face drawn into a rictus of pain and horror. His eyes were closed, and he’d thrown an arm across his face. Whatever used his body had discarded it, but not before it poked multiple holes where blood flowed freely, adding a metallic reek to the rest of the noxious smells in the cabin.

  Recco dove for his friend, cradling him in his arms as he did a fast assessment. He found a heartbeat, rapid and thready but present. Respiration clocked in at double normal.

  “Get him out of here,” Zoe cried. Furred and feathered shapes—mostly black, but a few rust-colored ones—fell like rain as she bombarded them with blasts of power.

  Karin knelt next to Recco. “We have to seal off this cabin. Once it’s done, we’ll have a prayer of containing this influx.”

  “Where’s it coming from?” The words tore from Recco, and he followed them with, “Never mind. If I leave, who’s going to help you and Zoe?”

  “Ketha and Aura are on their way, along with Moira and Tessa and Becca and the rest. We’ll be fine.”

  Something looking like a cross between a marmot and an armadillo exploded, showering them with viscous red goo that smelled like a slaughterhouse. Recco gagged. He staggered upright with Daide slung across his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Karin dragged the door open, and Recco stumbled outside.

  Ketha, Aura, and the other women raced around him and into the cabin infested with hell-spawned denizens, slamming the door behind them.

  Daide groaned, and Recco carted him across the hall to an empty cabin. Shouldering the door open, he laid him on the floor and took stock of what he’d need. Bandages, suture material, antiseptic, antibiotics, injection equipment. Blood flowed from numerous wounds, and Daide thrashed weakly.

  “It will be all right.” Recco infused a confidence he wasn’t feeling into his words.

  Daide’s dark eyes flashed open. “No, it won’t.” He clawed at his midsection. “Things are inside. Eating me from the inside out. Get a scalpel. Cut them out. Or let me.” A fey light shimmered around his prone form, but at least his spine had straightened.

  “He has to shift,” Recco’s wolf sounded frantic.

  “How do I make him do that?”

  “Encourage him.”

  “Daide. Amigo. You have to shift. It’s the only way to fight this.”

  He shook his head. “Can’t. Nothing real is left. Can’t find my coyote. It abandoned me.”

  “No. It didn’t,” the wolf insisted. “Evil things are blocking it.”

  “Tell me what to do,” Recco begged. He hated feeling helpless, and he was afraid if he left Daide for long enough to gather medical supplies, he’d claw his own belly open.

  “Shift. I’ll take over.”

  Amid ripping fabric, he ceded his form to the wolf. As soon as it took shape, it bent and closed its jaws around Daide’s neck.

  “What are you doing?” Frantic, he’d been snared in some bizarre manifestation of evil, Recco tried to shift back, but the wolf clung to its form.

  “Do. Not. Fight. Me.” A growl punctuated every word.

  It went against everything Recco believed in. His heart pounded, and sweat dripped down his metaphorical body, the one waiting in the wings. He reeled in horror and disbelief as the wolf nipped Daide’s neck, adding more blood to what he’d already lost. “Don’t kill him.”

  “I’m saving him. Believe in me, or this won’t work.”

  His bondmate’s words were like a pitcher of ice-cold water. Whatever maneuver it was executing had to work. Had to. Daide couldn’t die while Recco stood by and did nothing.

  I’m not doing nothing. His thoughts didn’t reassure him, though.

  As he watched through the wolf’s eyes, a coyote tried to form in the air above Daide. Tried and frittered to nothing. After i
t happened three times, Recco dug deeper and funneled every scrap of magic he had into the wolf, frightened to his bones it might not be enough. He felt desperation in the wolf’s heart; it added to his helplessness and his panic.

  They were close, so close. He felt it. Could taste it on the wolf’s tongue.

  Close doesn’t cut it. We have to break through.

  Behind him, the cabin door ripped open, and waves of magic blasted him, weaving with his own and strengthening it. The additional power from Zoe and Ketha turned the tide. Daide morphed into his animal form, a bloody, battered coyote that yipped and howled.

  A second coyote—Zoe—ran to its side, also yipping and yowling. In between, it licked Daide’s muzzle, face, and flanks, its tongue sealing the hurt places. Recco’s wolf joined in, laving wounds with its tongue.

  “Thank you,” Recco told his bondmate.

  “We’re not out of the woods yet. This runs deeper than healing his body. If we can’t seal the conduit evil came through, once and for all, we’ll have to kill him.”

  Chapter Fifteen: Overdue Truths

  Zoe heard Recco’s wolf. While she agreed with its assessment, her heart hurt for Daide and his coyote bondmate. The coyote would return to the animals’ private world, but she bet it would never bond with anyone again. Filled with self-castigation, it was convinced it had failed Daide. First by not recognizing the sea dragon’s duplicity, and now by not warning him he was ripe for the plucking from any evil thing hunting for access to the human world.

  “You had no way of knowing.” She tried to soothe its agitation and continued licking its hurt places.

  “I did. I didn’t try hard enough.” It hesitated. “I was still angry with my bondmate for not making more of an effort after we first joined our lives. It clouded my judgment.”

  “Fine. Now pull your head out of your ass and behave like a bond animal, not a prima donna.” Ketha’s wolf’s voice cut like a whip.

  Zoe cheered it on and moved over so Ketha’s wolf could join the healing lick-fest. A black-and-gray timber wolf, its fur sported more dark tones than Recco’s wolf, and in a slightly different pattern.

  Daide’s coyote laid its ears back and started to flip onto its back to show its belly as a sign of defeat and submission.

  “None of that.” Zoe nipped it. “You will stand proud until we are done.”

  Ketha’s wolf skinned its muzzle back, baring its teeth.

  Karin stalked into the cabin with the other women crowding behind her. Blood and something black streaked her face, hands, and clothing. “The cabin across the way is clear and sealed from darkness. Do you need help with Daide?”

  “Aye.” Zoe bypassed her coyote to talk with Karin. “Can ye repair the weakness within him? The magnet drawing demon spawn?”

  Karin pushed between the wolves and hunkered next to Daide’s coyote, running her hands along its lush, gray-brown fur. Its flanks shuddered beneath her touch, and it whined softly. A desolate sound compared with its earlier yips.

  Karin drew her white brows together and used a hand to help herself upright. “For now, we’ll establish a twofold approach. We’ll draw wards around the ship, and I’ll do what I can to help Daide acquire faith in himself and locate his inner strength. Once he decides he’s worthy, he’ll be far more vigilant.”

  Recco’s ears pricked forward, and he left off his ministrations to plant his wolf body in front of Karin. “What do you mean inner strength?” he demanded. “Daide has always been one of the strongest men I know.”

  A tired smile formed on Karin’s face. “He did a pretty good job if he fooled even you. When I culled through his memories just now, I found hurt places that run deep. His family abandoned him when he was quite young. The distant relatives who raised him took him in out of pity and obligation. He never felt he was worth anyone’s consideration—including his own.”

  Surprise rippled over the wolf’s face, more subtle than it would have been if Recco had been in his human body, but apparent nonetheless.

  “Ye dinna know?” Zoe aimed her words at Recco.

  The wolf shook itself from ears to tail, and she took it as a no.

  “Do not go picking through the bones of my past.” Daide’s words held a harsh, warning note.

  Ketha’s wolf nipped his haunch. “We’ll do what we need to,” she informed him. “And you will cooperate. I’ll not have you putting the rest of us at risk.”

  “Leave me at McMurdo.”

  Recco leapt back to the coyote and swatted him with a paw. “I don’t think so. You pitched a fit when I—”

  “Enough.” Karin didn’t raise her voice, but it vibrated with command and annoyance. “Arkady is underway. We’re not turning around. For anyone.”

  Zoe had been so focused on crushing the hell-spawned creatures in Daide’s cabin, she’d never noticed the drone of the ship’s turbines humming from below decks. She sent a thread of magic outward to assess if the coyote was healed enough for Daide to shift back. Having him shift to drive wickedness out had been brilliant. The animal nature was purer than the human one, and far more amenable to shaking off the dregs of evil things.

  Ketha and Recco worked on a few last wounds. The coyote’s body was mostly patched up. Certainly, healed enough to allow a shift. She reached for Daide’s coyote. “Can you move past blaming yourself? Hard work lies ahead. Your bondmate will require the best you have to offer him.” Without waiting for a reply, she went on. “The two of you got off to a rocky start. Nowhere is it written you can’t use the knowledge you gained to strengthen what’s to come.”

  The coyote shook itself and fluffed out its tail. Turning slowly, it faced Zoe and touched her nose with its own. “I’m one of the younger animals. Not confident in my own skin yet. It might be why I was attracted to Daide. We share insecurities—”

  “Speak for yourself,” Daide blustered around his bond animal.

  To its credit, it spoke over him. “The benefit of a shared weakness is I understand him. And if he allows it to happen, he will develop compassion and an accord with me. This is one instance where the bond will make us stronger together than either of us are as individuals.”

  “Well-spoken.” Karin nodded solemnly. “I’ll fetch a robe. It’s time for you to shift.”

  “Time for the rest of us too,” Ketha said and nudged Karin with her snout. “Are you planning to fetch robes for us all?”

  “Oh hell no. You can get your own.” She skewered Ketha with her astute copper gaze. “Once you’re decent, see to some type of warding that won’t drain us down to bedrock but will at least serve as an early warning system if we’re attacked again.”

  A howling snort rose from Ketha. Magic shimmered around her in a glistening cascade. Zoe picked up the cue and found her human form. She felt Recco’s gaze, hot and curious, as she hustled out of the cabin to snatch up a robe. She could take the time to dress later. The ship had begun pitching and rolling, which meant they’d left the protected waters around McMurdo station.

  By the time she got back to the cabin across from Daide’s original one, he and Recco were human. Both men stood swathed in belted white terrycloth robes, and Daide had a mulish look on his face. They’d been conversing in Spanish, but fell silent when she padded into the room.

  “Where’s Karin?”

  “She’ll be back soon,” Recco said. “She went to get herbs or a wand or tarot cards or something similar.”

  “Nah. She went after her broom.” Daide’s words might have been a joke in a different context, but they held an unmistakable bitter undertone.

  Zoe rounded on him, bristling. “She doesn’t have to do anything for you. Show a wee bit of respect.”

  The other man’s brittle aspect crumpled before her eyes. He turned away to hide the defeated expression in his eyes, and she wished she hadn’t been so harsh.

  “Amigo. There’s no shame in something that happened when you were a child,” Recco said softly, his words brimming with kindness.

 
; “You weren’t there.” Daide still faced the porthole. “I was uncontrollable, stole food I had no right to. My family was well within their rights to abandon me.”

  “You didn’t have enough to eat?” Zoe moved close but stopped shy of touching him.

  He turned slowly; raw pain had dug trenches in his cheeks and forehead. “You grew up in the U.K. You have no idea what it’s like in rural South America. I was born into a tribe of what you’d consider hunter-gatherers.” He hissed derisively. “Sounds romantic. Pah. It was dirty, grubby, a hardscrabble existence where diseases that could have been cured if we’d been anywhere near a modern hospital, killed people. Half the babies never made it to their second birthday.”

  “How come you never told me any of this?” Recco broke in.

  “It’s not like I lied.” Daide tilted his chin at a defiant angle. “I let you believe the life you saw when we met was the one I’d always led. It wasn’t all that great, either, but it was a big step up from the starving seven-year-old urchin who staggered into Buenos Aires, more dead than alive. The authorities found me and delivered me to a cousin’s house.”

  “At least they took you in.” Zoe tried for a positive spin.

  “The government gave him and his wife money.” Daide screwed his face into a grimace. “It was one of BA’s slums where dozens of neighbors crowded close after an official car pulled up. My cousin couldn’t have said no in front of such a big audience without looking like a selfish asshole.”

  Recco nodded his understanding. “Family is important in Argentine society.”

  “Not in the bush, it’s not,” Daide mumbled. “I still remember being so hungry my gut was distended. It hurt all the time.”

  Recco touched Daide’s arm. “What did you think would happen if you’d told me the truth?”

  He hooded his eyes, looking away. “I did my damnedest to pretend those first seven years of my life never happened. Buried them so deep, I thought I’d succeeded. Raphael knew, though. He taunted me. Made certain I remembered being hungry, so I’d be more enthusiastic about blood and embrace being a Vampire.”