Claiming Valeria

by Rebecca Rivard

  They rounded a bend. They were out of sight of the marina now, heading up the Susquehanna River. To their left was Rock Run territory, much of it uninhabited forest, save for a few human farms and the clan’s vineyards. The right was more developed, with small towns and the occasional house or farm dotting the land in between.

  Petros indicated three wooded islands another half-mile up the river. “We’ll let Merry off there—on the furthest island.”

  Valeria nodded and tried not to see her daughter’s pleading expression.

  As they approached the island, Valeria rubbed her nose against Merry’s. “You’ll be all right,” she said. “Just wave to the first boat. If it’s not a fada, tell them you’re from Rock Run and they’ll take you back to the marina. Or look for a dolphin—it will be a sentry. They patrol here all the time.”

  “No, Mama. Please don’t leav—” Her mouth snapped shut and she whined, animal-like.

  Valeria shot a furious look at Petros. “Stop that, damn you. Can’t you tell how frightened she is?”

  He gazed back without speaking. But something about his expression made her close her own mouth and subside.

  Petros guided the boat to a pebbled spit of land at the very edge of Rock Run territory. While Petros tied the boat to a tree, Valeria whispered to Merry, “Remember—look for a sentry. Tell him or her what happened, and that Senhor Petros took me somewhere upriver. Can you do that for me, baby?”

  She gave a tearful sniff, but nodded.

  “All right,” said Petros. “Out. Both of you.”

  Valeria stepped into the calf-high water and reached for Merry. “I love you, querida,” she said as she stepped onto the island, the little girl in her arms.

  “Set her down,” Petros ordered. When Valeria complied, he touched Merry’s shoulder and ordered her not to move for five minutes.

  “Yes, senhor,” she replied hollowly.

  “Good girl.” He jerked his chin at Valeria. “We’re swimming from here. Leave your clothes in the boat.”

  Valeria obeyed and followed him into the water, where he ordered her to shift. She glanced back at Merry. She was standing like a stiff little soldier, tears running down her face.

  Valeria felt as if her heart were being ripped out. She swallowed her own tears and told herself it was for the best.

  Then two men stepped out of the trees. Earth shifters: Jace and another, larger man.

  Valeria snarled. “What did you do?” she snapped at Petros and started running through the water toward Merry.

  “What your alpha should’ve done two years ago. What do you want with an earth-shifter cub anyway? Get back here,” he barked at her. “Remember your promise, damn you.”

  Jace picked the still-stiff Merry up.

  “Please,” Valeria pleaded as she reached the shore. “Don’t take her. I’m begging you.”

  Jace shook his head, his expression regretful. “I’m sorry, but she belongs with us. I’ll…let you know how she’s doing.” He and the other man faded back into the trees.

  Valeria’s claws sliced out. She leapt after them. But breaking a vow was even worse than telling a lie. Agonizing pain ripped through her. She shrieked even as the change took her. In her fear and anger, something went wrong and her claws turned to flippers.

  And then she was a dolphin, wracked by pain and flopping uselessly on the shore, the grit and pebbles digging into her sensitive skin. She watched helplessly as Jace and the other man disappeared into the woods. The last thing she saw was Merry looking back at her, screaming for help.

  Valeria threw herself after them, wriggling wildly along the beach, her animal knowing only that she had to save her daughter, until the pain became too much and everything went black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Tiago hadn’t lasted long in Baltimore. Too many people—and no clean water. The harbor was a cesspool and even the tap water was chlorinated. After five days he was itching for fresh, chemical-free water.

  A smart man would leave the country—lose himself in the Amazon, which had the world’s largest concentration of river fada, or maybe travel to Portugal or one of the other southern European countries with river shifter populations. But somehow he found himself back at Rock Run.

  He couldn’t go back to the base, of course, but he made his way to an island in the middle of the Susquehanna River, uninhabited save for a dryad. The clan allowed her and her two sisters to share their territory. Dryads were considered lucky, and besides, they had a special touch with growing things. The three islands that the dryads had claimed were lush green oases, with tall, old-growth trees. The fertility even extended into the river around the islands, which were rich with fish, clams, and other mollusks.

  Dryads were notoriously shy. He spent most of his time in the river in his rockfish form, hiding from Rock Run’s sentries in dark nooks and crannies. But even when on land, he caught only brief glimpses of her as she darted through the forest, barefoot and dressed in light summer clothing, her tawny hair streaming in a wild flag behind her.

  When he first arrived, he left an offering of bread and cheese at the base of the dryad’s oak, knowing that this would be a treat since she depended mainly on what she could grow on the island. In return, she gifted him with some fresh greens and a sack of early tomatoes. The two of them settled into a wary coexistence—until he realized that someone else was using the island as well.

  Five men, who came and went, usually with a female or two: Petros Okeanos, two other Greeks he didn’t know, and Benny and Jorge.

  Tiago frowned. Jorge had once been his mentor. When Tiago’s parents had been lost at sea, Tiago had still been a kid—just eleven years old. Dion and Rui had done their best, but they’d been thrust into the role of alpha and second. Jorge had been a tenente at the time—far above Tiago—but he’d stepped in, offering comfort in his gruff way and then proceeding to push Tiago—hard.

  “You’re the alpha’s brother,” he’d said. “You have to be twice as good as anyone else.”

  Tiago had idolized the man. It hurt that Jorge was back and hadn’t even bothered to look him up.

  He supposed Jorge scented him, but he and the other four men were apparently busy fucking their brains out. They disappeared for long hours with whatever females they brought to the island, returning flushed and smelling of wine and sex.

  It was several days before Tiago realized they were using a cavern right beneath the dryad’s oak. He was surprised she was allowing it, but then, this was Rock Run territory. She probably thought the illicit little den had Dion’s approval.

  He felt a twinge of fear for the dryad; she was such a gentle creature. But she seemed safe enough. Dryads had ways of concealing themselves in their trees that made them almost impossible to detect.

  Okeanos seemed to be in charge, and although it was obvious what he and the men were doing in that underground cave, it never occurred to Tiago that they were holding bacchanals for the simple reason that there hadn’t been one at Rock Run since before he was born.

  When he finally realized what was going on, his first thought was that he needed to tell Dion immediately—until he recalled that his brother didn’t even know he was still on Rock Run territory.

  Mind your own effing business, he told himself. They’re not hurting anyone. The few females he’d seen—a couple of night fae, a river fada he didn’t recognize, and three humans—seemed willing enough.

  Then Okeanos had appeared with an obviously terrified Valeria and her daughter, and Tiago decided it was time to stop lying to himself.

  Now he watched as Rui do Mar’s brows snapped together. “What do you mean?”

  “Your woman—Valeria. Petros Okeanos has her.”

  Rui had him by the throat before he could react. “Explain. And it had better be good, you bastard.”

  He gazed back steadily. “You know, then.”

  “That it was you who helped the sun fae? Yes.”

  “So am I under a death sentence?” I
t would almost be a relief. The weeks on his own had taken their toll. He knew he was on the edge of going feral. A fada his age wasn’t meant to live as a solitary; he needed touch, the companionship of the pack. He’d even missed the punishing training his cohort had been undergoing in preparation for their induction as warriors.

  “No. Dion wanted to find you first.” Rui gave him a hard shake. “Now talk. Where’s Valeria?”

  “Okeanos has her—and Merry, too. I don’t know what happened, but they didn’t go with him willingly. I could scent their fear.”

  Rui inhaled slowly, testing the truth of his words. Tiago saw the exact moment when fear dawned.

  “Where?” he asked hoarsely.

  “You know those three islands about a mile up the Susquehanna? The dryads’ islands?”

  “Sim.”

  “Okeanos and a few other men have a den on the middle one. It’s underground, but I know where the entrance is.”

  Rui released Tiago’s throat, but stayed close. “Go on.”

  “They’ve been holding bacchas there. Okeanos has brought other women to the island. At first I figured the women were willing, but Valeria was trying to get away from him. And when I thought about it, I realized the other women were too stiff—as if he were controlling them in some way. Dark magic, maybe.”

  Rui’s eyes flickered. “How many men?”

  “Okeanos, a couple of other sea fada. And Jorge and Benny.”

  “And you know where they are?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hell.” Rui gripped his nape. “Dion needs to know but there’s no time.” The garage was a half a mile up creek from the base.

  “I’ll tell him.”

  Rui gave him a brief, considering look and then shook his head. “No. I need you to take me to their den. Besides, I could use some back up. You up for it?”

  Tiago squared his shoulders. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then let’s go. I’ll worry about getting a message to Dion after we’re there.”

  Rui was already on his way out of the garage, tearing off his clothes as he ran. When he reached the creek, he dove in, changing to his shark in mid-air. Tiago shifted to dolphin a few seconds behind him, and together, they shot downstream toward the Susquehanna.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  When Valeria came back to herself, Petros was standing on the beach over her scraped and bleeding body. She forced the shift back to human, her animal still in control and gripped by a killing rage.

  She growled at him, her claws slicing out. The man gave the daughter to the enemy. He dies.

  Petros’s lip curled. “Fool. I can control you as easily as her.”

  The words had as much meaning as the barking of a dog or the howling wind. She dropped into a crouch, preparing to pounce. But Petros muttered a few words in ancient Greek, and the invisible net closed around her. She instinctively lunged toward the water, changing to dolphin to try to escape, but the net simply adjusted to her new contours. She thrashed wildly, her animal half-crazed at being trapped.

  Petros kept the pressure on, tightening the net until she was gasping for breath. Still she struggled, maddened with fear and anger, until he waded into the water and punched her in the snout.

  “Stop it,” he snarled, “or I swear to God I’ll knock you out.”

  Somehow the words made it through the thick terror enveloping her brain. She shuddered to a stop and dragged in air through her blowhole. But she couldn’t get enough. The edges of her vision went black and she started to sink as the air was squeezed from her lungs.

  Petros swore, but loosened the net enough to allow her to breathe freely. Her chest heaved and she drew in great gulps of oxygen.

  Gradually her reason returned, but with it came a cold dread. The Baltimore shifters had Merry and she couldn’t even raise the alarm.

  “Swim, baby,” Petros crooned in a voice that made her flesh crawl. He pushed her back into the river and draped one arm around her neck. “I’ve given you enough slack so you can move that pretty tail of yours. But if you try anything funny, I’ll make the net so tight you won’t be able to breathe. You’ll sink like a stone without me to hold you up. Nod if you understand.”

  She jerked her head.

  “Good girl,” he said. “Head downriver. That party I told you about? It’s on the next island. Just me and a few friends. And, glika? You broke your promise. I’ll have to punish you for that. Now swim.”

  It only took a few minutes to reach their destination. As soon as Petros’s feet touched the shore he stood up. She halted, chest working like a bellows, nearly at the end of her resources. The bastard had kept an arm around her neck the entire way, and rather than helping her swim, he’d let his legs drag so she was forced to pull him through the water.

  There was no sign of the sentries and the only boat they’d passed had contained humans, no match for a fada, especially one with a dark Gift like Petros’s. She’d hoped he might loosen the net holding her captive, but he’d kept her tightly bound. And even if she did manage to break free of him, she was still bleeding and exhausted.

  But Petros had to be tiring as well. He’d bound first Merry, then her. Any prolonged use of magic drained life-energy, and he was using a tremendous amount to keep such a tight control on her.

  Now, as she struggled to catch her breath, she told herself that at least Merry was safe. Jace was her uncle. Merry would be scared and upset, but he wouldn’t harm her.

  “Shift,” Petros ordered.

  She hesitated, unsure she had the strength. Exhausted as she was, she risked being trapped in a dangerously half-changed state: part dolphin, part woman. A shifter could die in that state, his or her body unable to reconcile two such disparate parts.

  Petros’s hand chopped down on her snout. Pain burst behind her eyes. She squawked angrily.

  “Shift,” he repeated.

  She drew a breath and obeyed. The change was a slow, painful process that left her very bones aching. She had a terrifying few seconds where she was afraid she wouldn’t complete it, but she dug deep and forced the last few parts to form. When she was finished, she crouched in the water, gulping in air, still bound in the invisible net.

  The sun had risen. It was the end of July and the temperature was going to be in the nineties today. Even now, with the sun still low in the sky, it was unpleasantly hot on her bare skin. Petros waved his hand and the net loosened enough to allow her to move her arms.

  Her nose felt wet. She put a hand to it. When she took it away, her fingers were stained with blood.

  Petros stared down at her, his face an unyielding mask. “When I give an order, you’ll obey immediately. Understand?”

  She nodded. She’d go along with him for now, wait for a chance to escape.

  Because she would escape. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

  But the blood had given her an idea. She could use her Gift.

  One of the reasons Rui was such a good tracker was that his shark could scent blood in the water in concentrations as low as a few parts per million. She drew several fish toward her and brushed the blood on her hand onto them, and then gave them a powerful push downriver. If Rui was in the river, he’d pick up her scent and follow it to the island.

  Of course, that was supposing he’d returned—and that he realized she and Merry were missing. Her stomach sank as she realized how unlikely it was that Rui—or anyone—would come looking for them in time. Eventually, they’d be missed when they didn’t show up for meals, but by the time anything realized something was wrong, Merry would be in Baltimore—and Petros would have her, Valeria, hidden in his den.

  Petros’s hand clamped on her arm. “Get up.”

  She rinsed the blood from her face and rose to her feet. His gaze moved down her naked body in a way that made the skin between her shoulder blades tighten. His cock began to harden. He raised his gaze back to hers and smiled.

  Valeria glanced back and gave the fish another forceful nudge.


  Petros waved a hand, freeing her from the net, but he immediately forced her arms behind her back and bound her wrists together with the same invisible webbing while leaving her legs free to walk.

  “That way,” he said, pointing toward a path into the trees. He slapped her bottom—hard—so that she stumbled forward.

  He was trying to humiliate her. Well, fuck him. She raised her chin and calmly picked her way over the pebbled beach toward the woods. He chuckled but fell in behind her.

  The path led to a clearing at the center of the island presided over by a tall, slim oak. Petros tapped on the trunk as he spoke some words in ancient Greek, and a magical doorway opened, which by some three-dimensional sleight-of-hand expanded until its width was greater than the actual tree trunk. Stairs led into the shadowy depths below.

  Valeria’s spine iced. She knew, with a deep, inner certainty, that dark souls waited at the bottom of those stairs. Her knees locked and she forgot all about waiting for a chance to escape. She just wanted to stay above ground.

  “Não,” she said, in her terror reverting to Portuguese. With an effort she unstuck her frozen joints and backed away, one step at a time. “Por favor, Petros.”

  He stalked after her until her back hit a tree. His fingers tangled painfully in her hair. “No?” He forced her head back so that she had to bend her knees to relieve the pressure. “Did I hear you right?”

  She licked suddenly dry lips and forced herself to remember her English. “Please don’t make me go down there. I’ll do anything you want, just please don’t make me—”

  He slapped her face so hard she tasted blood. “What?” he asked, his eyes glittering darkly.

  He was close enough that his erection jabbed her belly. Her resistance aroused him, the bastard.

  She brought her hand to her throbbing cheek. “Nothing,” she said dully.

  “That’s better.” He gave her hair another painful tug. “Let me explain something, glika—the word no is no longer part of your vocabulary. Are we clear on that?”