Fated Shifter Mates

by Jade Alters

  Over her shoulder, dark clouds shadowed the water, and a sense of danger prickled through my body. It would be a disaster to get caught in a storm in a boat like this. The rough waves slapped against the hull of the boat and confirmed my suspicion that we were in for rough weather.

  "I don't suppose you have a wrench," I said.

  "Here," said Gunner who reached for his backpack. He pulled out a multi-tool with many tools including a saw. It was obviously expensive and not standard issue.

  "Geez, you should have given this to me first thing, Gunner."

  "Am I the only one that packed their survival kit?"

  "No. But you are the only one who didn't use it," I said.

  "When you're good—"

  "Stow it," I said. "You picked off our kits and left yours alone."

  "I gave you my multi-tool."

  The SEAL survival kit is a thing of beauty when it's fully packed. It has a slew of useful items from pain relievers to bouillon cubes. But we've been on one mission after another with hardly time to re-provision. My last government issue multi-tool got lost on the previous mission. And this one that Gunner put in his case was not standard issue. He'd put some dollars into it.

  "Thanks. I'll consider it my birthday present."

  "Hey!" complained Gunner.

  "Stow it," said Damon. "When Ryker pokes his head up here, he'll expect something done."

  With a few hard yanks, I disconnected the fuel line, and the few drops you'd expect from the connector didn't spurt from the hose. With the flathead screwdriver of the multi-tool, I dislodged the connector from the fuel line. But instead of diesel, a white goo spilled from the line.

  "What the hell is that?" said Damon.

  "Big problems. Someone put in a product to dry the water in the tank, and it solidified and clogged the fuel line. Nasty business."

  "Can you unclog it?"

  "Sure, for now. It hasn't clogged up the fuel pump. But I can't guarantee the fuel line won't clog again." I looked at the skyline again, and Damon followed my line of sight.

  "I'll go talk to Ryker," Damon said. "We need a Plan B."

  "You got one?" Gunner asked.

  "Look." Damon pointed to the storm. "There is a small island there. We should make for it."

  I peered and barely made out a black dot under the clouds.

  "Into the storm?" I said. Gunner appeared as skeptical as I felt.

  "Do you want to ride out the storm in this boat?" said Damon pointedly.

  I shook my head and so did Gunner though he crossed his arms over his chest.

  "What's going on?" said Jeanine.

  There was no need to sugar coat this. "A storm is coming, and I'm not confident that when I get the fuel restored that the fuel line won't clog again. Damon thinks we should put into the closest island and wait things out."

  "I got that part," she said with sass. "But how will that help us get us to meet that ship?"

  Gunner put his arm around her shoulders, but she shrugged it off.

  "It's not," I said. "It will keep us alive, which is job one. We'll work out the rest later."

  "Great. Wonderful," she said sarcastically. "I'm on a stalled boat in the middle of the ocean with four gung-ho assassins. I should have taken my chances with Morgan."

  "Don't say that," said Gunner. What was wrong with him? He was hanging all over her, and I'd never seen him pay so much attention to one woman.

  "Gunner, give me a hand."

  "Sure, Doc."

  He knelt next to me.

  "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I snapped at him.

  "What?"

  "You and the girl."

  "Back off, Doc. It's none of your business."

  Was it? I don't like how close he was sitting next to her or the attention he showed her.

  "We rescued her. You can refrain from making moves on her."

  "What is your problem?"

  "Guys," said Ryker as he rose from below decks. Damon came up behind him. "With the threatening bad weather, we need to get to cover. How's that engine coming?"

  "Clogged fuel line," he grunted. "I'm cleaning it now."

  With a quick questing glance toward Gunner who stood too closely to Jeanine, I took the fuel line and scooped out the goo with the underwire. Why should I care if Gunner made a play for Jeanine?

  Mine.

  A heat filled me, and my pants got tighter, and I couldn't believe my beast was starting this now, in the middle of the ocean. An enticing scent that wafted from the wire tickled my nose. Jeanine.

  Mine, my beast insisted again. I did not have time for this. My team counted on me to get this engine going. The dark clouds rolled faster toward us, and a brisk wind whipped up over the water and rippled the shirts on our bodies. I didn't have time to pay attention to my beast. I'd pay for it later because my jaguar disliked when I didn't pay attention, but survival was job one.

  "Pump the fuel line bulb, Damon," I said.

  "What about Gunner?" he said.

  "He's busy being nice," I replied snarkily.

  "Someone needs to take care of our passenger," said Gunner.

  Jeanine rolled her eyes.

  "Only because you kidnapped me and put me on this boat. I was doing fine before someone slung me over his shoulder like a caveman."

  "Ma'am," said Ryker in his deep rolling voice, "as soon as we can, we'll get you back to the United States. Until then, just sit back."

  "Yeah," said Gunner with a grin, "and enjoy the ride."

  Jeanine gave him an incredulous glance for which I did not blame her. I knew these men and put my life in their hands every day. But she did not.

  "Kane," rumbled Ryker. "Tick, tock."

  How can this one woman distract me this much?

  "Aye, aye, Chief," I said.

  "And Gunner, pack up the resources and get our backpacks in one location. We may need to bug out soon."

  "Aye, aye, Chief," replied Gunner.

  With Damon's help, I finished cleaning that part of the fuel line. Then clean diesel pumped out of the hose and splashed on my clothes.

  "Okay, Damon, stop pumping the bulb now."

  "Yeah, right," he grunted oddly, and I twisted my head to see of all damned things, the outline of his cock straining against his pants. What the fuck?

  "Holster your weapon, Darkman," I said in a low voice.

  "It's my jaguar. He's got a wild hair going."

  "Seems to be going around," I replied. I flicked my gaze to Ryker who sat, at least in my estimation, too close Jeanine.

  "Yeah," grumbled Damon.

  I reinstalled the connector giving good twists to the nut that held the hose clamp. I glanced up at the sky, but in the downward sweep of my eyes, I caught Jeanine staring at me in fascination. The intensity of her gaze caused my heart to pound as driving electricity pulsed through my blood. If I couldn't touch her, I might go insane. But, the job comes first, not some hair-brained, or rather beast-driven lustful thoughts.

  Bending my head to my work, I snapped the connector back into the fuel line assembly.

  "Okay, Damon. Crank her up again."

  "Again?" he croaked.

  Darkman is as stoic as the rest of us. Living and working with a guy for twenty-four-seven you get to know him, and I could tell he was struggling with his cat's attraction to Jeanine, just as was I. Ryker looked grumpier than usual, and Gunner kept throwing glances to those two. We were all on edge, and not just from a mission that went sideways.

  A crack of thunder rolled over the seas. We'd officially run out of time and had to concentrate on the mission.

  "Dude," I said in a low voice. "Keep it freaking together."

  "I know, man. I do. This has never happened to me."

  "Yeah," I grunted. I was running baseball stats in my head, but my inner jaguar wanted to get near the woman and keeping him down was an exercise in extreme self-control. You would think that a Navy SEAL would have that down, but this pull was strong. My hands shook as
I pumped the primer valve to get diesel to the engine.

  "Start the engine and pray to the jaguar god that it starts."

  Damon took the step across the deck and thunder boomed over the waves, and raindrops hit my face. The boat's rocking grew more intense as the wind picked up. Waves hit with rounding slaps of water. Out on the water things could turn dangerous fast, and this boat was not one to weather a big blow.

  "Gunner," said Ryker. "Get a lifejacket on her and take her down below. Damon, turn over that engine!"

  "Sure thing, Chief."

  Damon engaged the ignition, and the engine chugged and whined, and my heart sank. If that goo reached into the engine, it would kill it. Our only hope was if the engine started.

  "Is that pump primed?" yelled Damon over the rushing wind.

  I pressed the primer bulb, and it was as hard as a rock.

  Like me.

  Fuck. I was at full mast as Gunner helped her with a lifejacket and then escorted her down the steps. Her sexy long legs extending from that short dress commanded my attention as she walked.

  "Kane!" yelled Damon. Oh hell, I hadn't answered him.

  "Yeah!" I said. "It's hard."

  "Goddamn it," Damon grunted, and I didn't know whether it was from not getting the engine started or his physical condition which mirrored my own.

  "Crank it," I yelled.

  "Fuck you," he muttered and pressed the ignition again. The engine sputtered and finally caught.

  "Thank god!" he said. Damon throttled the engine higher and turned into the storm toward the island. This normally was a bad practice, but it was never good to get caught on the water in a storm like this.

  I pulled down the seating of the boat to close off the engine and lurched across the deck to Damon.

  "Careful," I yelled in his ear over the engine. "I'm not sure if the engine got any of the goop. If you rev it too high, it could stall."

  "We need speed."

  "We need to get there."

  Damon huffed and peered into the storm-cloud darkened path.

  "I'll get us there."

  Damon was one stubborn son-a-bitch, something we all appreciated. We were trained to get ourselves out of any situation, but Damon did it from sheer strength of will. Which was an advantage to our team, but I was not so sure how it would work with Jeanine? I had to tell him the truth because the last thing I wanted was trouble with my crew.

  "Dude," I yelled, "my jaguar says Jeanine is my mate."

  Damon made a derisive sound and opened his mouth, but just then a streak of lightning flashed a bright ribbon and thunder cracked in a deafening boom. Electricity cracked in the air, and the sky opened on us as if it wanted to blot us from the face of the churning ocean.

  Fuck.

  Damon

  Hell, no. Jeanine is not Kane's mate. She's mine. I'd never experienced such a powerful reaction to a woman. This emotion came straight from my jaguar, and I could do nothing about it. She was mine, and I would convince her of that fact, and these other fuckers could stay away from her, or I would do them serious damage. If we weren't in a life-threatening situation, I'd claim her now. I didn't like that Ryker was in the hold with her. It's tiny and intimate and who knew what ideas he had. I would set them all straight, just as soon as I got us out of this mess. And I opened my mouth to tell Kane this when the air split with light and sound, and it made the beast inside me growl.

  As much I tried to heed Kane's warning, I had to push the engines because otherwise, I couldn't make traction against these waves. My jaguar, my intuitive sense, told me this was a bad idea to challenge this brutal weather but I had to go with my head on this. We needed to make landfall. None of us could survive if this boat capsized. As SEALs, we were all strong swimmers, and as jaguars, stronger, but few people, human or shifter could survive in a storm-tossed ocean. And Jeanine? She wouldn't have a chance, and I couldn't let her come to harm.

  Ryker climbed onto the deck.

  "I'll take the wheel," he said. "Get in that hold."

  "I'm good," I said.

  "I know it," he replied. "But I have to protect my shadow."

  A group of jaguars was called a shadow, which was why we called ourselves Team Shadow. That name graced the identifying patches of our uniforms. Other SEALs thought it meant we were advertising our stealth, but we called ourselves what we were—a team of jaguar shifters, put together by top brass five years ago.

  "Okay, Chief," I said giving him the wheel. I nodded my head to Gunner and Kane, and Kane went first, then Gunner tossed the backpacks down. After him, I headed into the tiny hold that barely fit all of us.

  Jeanine sat on the deck with her knees drawn up and her hands clasped around them. She stared at all of us with her bright blue eyes that made my heart pound. Her too rapid breathing told me that she was excited or frightened, and my jaguar, damn him, didn't care which.

  "What's going on, guys?" she said. Jeanine chewed on her lip, and her eyes darted to each of us.

  "That's on a need-to-know basis," said fucking Gunner, who hadn't met a bad joke he didn't like. Couldn't he sense her terror?

  "We're," I said, "taking cover. Ryker is piloting the boat."

  "Will we be okay?"

  "Sure," said Kane as he sank to sit next to her. "We trust Ryker with our lives. He'll pull us through."

  "Ryker's the one who freed this boat out from the sinking yacht," she said as if she were sleepwalking. I worried that she was going into shock. She was not a soldier and didn't have our intense training.

  Gunner sank next to her, the fucker, and put an arm around her.

  "It will be fine. We've been in worse scrapes."

  Sometimes Gunner's ability to gloss over the seriousness of a situation was an asset. However, a strange look flickered in Jeanine's eyes that told me she didn't believe Gunner. I didn't blame her. The boat rocked fiercely, and I didn't feel the forward motion I should when the engines propelled a boat forward in the water. The boat could stall any minute. She was smart and figured out we were in big trouble.

  Kane sat next to her on her left, and I knelt before her and took her hands clasped on her knees.

  "We will get you through this safely," I said. "I promise you that."

  "So do I," said Gunner.

  "Yes," said Kane in a husky voice. His eyes were slits which signaled to me he wasn't thinking about the danger we were in.

  No. He contemplated another form of danger—that of touching my mate.

  Either it was her fear or her pheromones that filled the hold, but again, my jaguar wasn't particular. Her scent intoxicated me, and judging by Kane and Gunner's blown pupils, they felt that way too.

  My jaguar was ready to take her. The urge to mate strikes lightning fast, and before this day I had no reason to deny it. I had no problem attracting women when I wanted. That was a gift from my jaguar side that exuded an animal magnetism that women found hard to resist.

  The engine sputtered and stilled, and the boat rocked harder.

  Ryker entered the hold in one jump and pulled the hatch tight with a bang.

  "I hope that's a goddamn watertight seal," he snapped angrily.

  When he turned to face us, his eyes narrowed.

  "What the hell is happening?" he said.

  "Ryker, you tell me," said Jeanine. Her eyes begged for a good word on our situation, but that was not happening.

  "That boat stalled and we're in the middle of a storm, and we didn't get close enough to the island to swim for it."

  "Swim?" she squeaked.

  "Can you?" he growled.

  "Yes, but not in weather like this."

  "Ryker, give her a break," said Kane. "She's a civilian."

  "I get what the hell she is," he said. Ryker's frustration came through in his voice, and I understood. Our mission went to crap, and so did our exit. We were miles from the Coast Guard boat that was supposed to pick us up, and we all knew in weather like this, their first responsibility was to respond to distress calls. O
ur oceans were heavily trafficked, and most could not avoid the weather.

  "I told her we will make sure she's safe."

  "We will," he said. "We can't help it, can we?"

  He flicked a glance to each of us, and in this little, dimly lit cabin in a storm-tossed and disabled powerboat, I understood what he meant.

  Ryker was no fool. He watched all of us like a hawk. Aside from the fact that losing a team member lessened all of our chances for survival, he protected us with his sure Alpha sense of right and wrong. He wouldn't let us hurt each other over a woman.

  Kane pursed his lips and found something interesting to inspect on the bulkhead. Gunner stared with a challenge to Ryker, but he had it all wrong. Ryker's Alpha scent released as it would in stressful conditions. He was dominating us, and we'd submit to his will, but it ticked something in Jeanine's head box too, because her pupils had grown wide.

  "What's happening?" said Jeanine.

  "Nothing," said Ryker. "We're riding out this storm and hoping we don't capsize."

  "Sure," snorted Kane. "Sugarcoat it for the lady."

  "What happens if we capsize?" Her voice trembled.

  "Things get a little difficult," said the overly optimistic Gunner.

  "I'm hoping this storm blows over fast," Ryker said, "and Gunner can get the engine started again. Don't worry. The situation is serious, but we've been in far worse scrapes."

  She shook her head as if fighting something off. "So I've heard," she said derisively. Jeanine appeared not to bend to Ryker's chemical persuasion. Was it because she wasn't a shifter?

  The boat rocked, but no thunder sounded, and the rain eased. This was not the good news it appeared, and a glance to my teammates confirmed it. Only a big storm would have an eye where the weather calmed.

  "Maybe it's passing," said Jeanine hopefully.

  "Most likely we are in the storm's eye," said Kane grimly. "When it passes over us it will hit hard again."

  "Hey," said Gunner. He reached his hand to the bulkhead at his side. "There's an inflatable here."