by LeAnn Mason
“Uh, Captain?” Ember’s small voice was meek, pleading.
“What?” he snapped, trying and failing to get a grip on his anger, turning to her, irritated at the interruption.
Ember’s cinnamon eyes were wide and her face frightened. That caused him to draw back and follow the direction of the phoenix’s pointing finger. Cole and Brenna were being pressed down to their hands and knees, hair whipping as the shadows lashed out at them. They were barely visible beneath the thick weight of Seke’s power.
“Shit.” The god dropped his hands, sending the shadows back to their nooks and crannies.
Cole and Brenna blinked up at him, hair windswept, eyes wide. They were silent, finally.
“I’m sorry. I...” Seke shook his head. He needed a break, some distance. He’d told them to all work together, and there he was, similarly being a piss-poor part of the team. How could he help them when he couldn’t even hold himself together? “I’m going to get some air. Take a break, all of you. In your own rooms. I don’t want to hear about any fights while I’m gone.”
The god whirled and stalked out of the room, not stopping until he’d passed onto the back balcony and could breathe in the fresh mountain air, relieved at the touch of pine and floral perfume sinking into his lungs. He took several breaths while his hands pressed into the wood railing to keep steady as his eyes drifted shut.
It was funny. Aria’s shrieks had never grated on his nerves, but now, the slightest raising of a voice, and it raised his hackles in an instant. He was on edge, irritable, moody, and unfit to be captain at the moment.
Perhaps it was he who should have been sent away, not Aria.
“Boss?”
Seke’s forehead drifted onto the backs of his hands. “I requested that you go to your rooms.”
Ember’s arm brushed against his as she joined him at the railing. “Yeah, but I’m not the one who needs space.”
“No, I do,” he said pointedly.
“You think you do. But you’re wrong.”
Seke raised his head, surprised that Ember would speak to him so bluntly and defy his orders.
“What you need is not to be alone.”
Startled, Seke stared, wondering if she knew about his dreams, that he missed his quiet sessions in the library with the banshee.
The phoenix wasn’t looking at him; she was admiring the view. Too short to brace her elbows on the railing and keep her toes on the deck, she’d jumped up, leaning on her forearms so her legs swung a little bit as she observed the forest surrounding their bunker. “Alone, we have nothing but our thoughts,” the phoenix commented. “And it is our thoughts that can be our greatest enemy. Particularly after losing someone.”
Seke swallowed, pushing Aria from his thoughts. Jessica was an immense loss, but somehow it was Aria who kept shifting to the fore of his mind, perhaps because her departure wasn’t as final, leaving him unsteady, contemplating whether he should retract it…
He recalled that the phoenix had lived a long time — not as long as him but many, many lives and many, many losses. They’d met after one such loss. She’d joined the Harbingers to find some distraction, she’d told him. She needed to keep busy.
“The last time I lost someone,” Ember started, “I spent a decade on an island far, far away from any human or supe.” She lifted her head to watch the clouds. “It was beautiful, peaceful, quiet. It was hell.”
Seke remained quiet, listening.
“Without anyone to comfort me, to talk me through my suffering, to remind me that there was more to live for, I was left alone with my memories, which were just that. I would have no new interactions with... that person. And my thoughts... they sent me in a spiral.” She turned to pin him with her fiery gaze. “I tried to end it. Several times. Of course, you know the result of that.” She smiled sadly and gave a visual shrug since she couldn’t move her shoulders. “I came back.” She turned back to nature. “They didn’t. It’s hardest on those of us who remain alive while others are gone. That’s why I joined you, ya know.” She swung to the side to bump Seke with a shoulder. “I wanted to understand death, come to terms with it.”
Ah, not just find a distraction.
“I didn’t really get that. It’s still a horrible thing to lose someone. But I found something else that helped me process. A family. Now, I have a family who can help me see that there are still others who need me, who can support me, for whom it’s worth living.”
Seke hung his head in shame. He’d been ignoring his current team while he lamented those who were gone. “I’m sorry. You deserve a stronger captain.”
“No,” Ember hopped down and turned to face him, hands on her hips. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m not saying that you should be supporting us, you dope.”
Seke blinked at the insult but didn’t reprimand her. Not right now. She was right, he wasn’t himself; he deserved the rebuke.
She stepped up and wrapped the god in a tight hug before he could react. “I’m saying that we’re here for you,” she said in a muffled voice into his abdomen. “Together, we get through this. Isn’t that what you said? That we needed to be a team?”
The god looked down at the spiked red hair, thoroughly humbled and put in his place. “Yes.” His arms came around the woman in return, and he welcomed the warmth and security her embrace was building in him. “Yes, I did.”
“Good.” Ember snapped back up as if nothing had happened. “Now, pull yourself together, and get back in there because Cole and Raven need us.”
A soft smile pulled at Seke’s lips. “Yes, boss.”
Ember gave a solemn nod. “Good.” Then, she turned and marched back inside, leaving Seke chuckling after her. Their phoenix was a fierce one.
His smile fell a bit, and he sighed. It was going to take time to let go of Jessica... and Aria. But Ember was right. He needed to. She’d said that the team was there for him, but he was the captain. He needed to be a solid base with Jessica’s passing.
And because of that, he couldn’t be distracted by his feelings for one of them.
It was good, he decided, that Aria had left. His feelings for her had been growing to an inappropriate level. He recalled that moment in the gym that she’d been hovering over him, and he’d forgotten himself. He’d let his hands drift to her body, and it had taken several minutes for him to pull back from her intoxicating kiss. It was only the fear of someone walking in on them that had pulled him from the moment. And that was enough to remind him to keep up his guard. If what he was doing was something his team would disapprove of, then it was not acceptable.
He had enjoyed Aria’s presence a bit too much, the way she challenged him, pushed him to learn and grow himself in a way he hadn’t done in years, but he hadn’t again let himself touch her out of a training capacity, and then, only briefly. He had already let it go too far.
His back hit the railing, and his eyes shut again as his mind drew to the surface the image of crushing hurt on Aria’s face when he told her about her reassignment. She’d been too attached as well. He’d led her on. That hadn’t been fair.
“Good,” Seke said aloud. It was for the best that they’d been separated.
He collected himself, squaring broad shoulders, leveling his chin, and brushing nonexistent dirt from his attire. His team needed him… and he, them. They would get through this together.
Seke caged off his heart and headed back to his team. The banshee would not distract him anymore.
9
I wanted to gloat, saying, “You wanted to hear me scream, there you go. Check off ‘witness banshee scream’ on your conquest list. Maybe bleeding from your ears will add another nice color to the t-shirt for your wall.” But my mouth was otherwise occupied. My tete-a-tete with Stone was over anyway; at the sound of my wailing, the rest of the team came running.
The Water Unit must have been very accustomed to the crashing of the waves and deafening roar of the wind to have heard me over that chaos — and from within the
captain’s area and below deck, from which another man stumbled. But hear me, they did. And they snapped right into action, despite having told me I was their first banshee experience.
The new guy and Stone, whose hand-covered ears continued to block me out, were watching Charon’s mouth move as the ferryman shouted instructions, proving he was indeed the HDWU captain. I realized they were lip-reading, a mode of communication adapted from the loudness of their environment. Apparently, Stone did have another skill I didn’t know about.
I copied, staring at the gruff man’s beard, but apparently, it was a skill Stone could hold over me. Too much beard, not enough lip for me to catch a lick of what came out of the man’s mouth.
I need to work on that if I’m going to be screaming all the time on these teams. I can’t afford to be clueless.
So focused on my task, I nearly fell overboard when Sena surged out of the water beside me, leaning over the railing to also stare at Charon.
Shifting away from the fishtailed being as she dripped on the deck, my gaze followed Charon’s pointing finger as he jabbed it toward the port side… or was it starboard? Either way, he was telling the team there was something in the water.
Still screaming, I stared and saw… more of the same. Ocean, in about every direction. So, why had my banshee abilities kicked in?
The mermaid dropped back into the water, and the second man, who was lithe with long legs, dove after her, shifting in midair into the shape of a horse. I leaned over to gawk as he splashed in.
I thought Seke said all harbingers were carefully selected for their roles?
Horse shifter wasn’t the most water-ready choice… But the equine-shaped dude was having no problem swimming as fast as the mermaid through the choppy waves, and it hit me.
Holy shit. A real-life Kelpie.
Mesmerized by the corporeal version of an image I’d viewed in the old tomes in Seke’s library, I jumped when Charon surprised me with a clap to the back.
He motioned toward the water where my new teammates were swimming in the direction of a target I couldn’t see. Sunken shipwreck? They put distance between us quickly, traversing with the expertise of Olympic swimmers unaffected by the tumultuous oceanic waters tossed about by the building storm.
Shaking my head adamantly, I tried to slide out from under the captain’s insistent hand. Even if I had flippers or scales like those aquatic supes, I would drown as soon as I went in with my trap open wider than a feeding whale’s.
Ducking, I about-faced and smacked my gob right into Stone’s vomit-coated chest. Seeing as my mouth was open, if my throat hadn’t been otherwise occupied, I’d have upchucked again.
Fuck me.
The sea dog’s grin was wide and teeth canine-sharp as he reveled in my disgust. He said something inaudible. While I continued to screech my lungs out, adding to the storm’s cacophony, the hellhound wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me against his squelchy chest, a definite vindictive glint in his red eyes.
Are all hellhounds assholes?
Before I could extract myself when the hand on my back drifted lower, he clapped a hand over my mouth, muffling my noise, and leaned in close. Stone yelled right into my ear, his overly moist lips moving disgustingly against my lobe. The urge to simultaneously shiver with revulsion and puke into his hand was strong. “Shame you didn’t bring a bikini. Time to sink or swim, screamer!” Then, he toppled us overboard.
What was with dudes hitching me to them and then toppling into abysses?!
When our fall slowed without splashing into freezing water, I cracked my squeezed-shut eyes open to inspect just how dire my situation was. Stone had hold of a rope and was lowering us in a controlled but unrelenting descent toward the ocean surface.
The sudden need to inhale cut off my unhindered scream, and I snapped my mouth shut a second before we crashed into the water.
There’s a new way to shut me up. Good to know.
When I attempted to swim back to the surface for air, the douche-hound tugged me deeper. I opened my eyes and nearly lost my precious lungful in a gasp. Only a single bubble escaped, floating up in front of my face to obscure my vision for a moment. Once it buoyed the direction I wanted to go — the smart direction — I stared at the submarine.
Bubbles streamed from one spot on the underbelly of the sub where there must have been a puncture. The kelpie and mermaid were hovering by the hatch of the huge oblong structure, which was listing in the water column.
The supes watched from out of sight as it opened and several humans escaped, kicking for the surface. Those men and women were alive, so they weren’t our target.
Having already shifted into massive dog form, Stone towed me toward the sinking vessel with a strong bite on my jacket sleeve. Dude was doggy paddling, and I lost another ounce of air on an involuntary snort.
I slipped out of my jacket and kicked off my shoes, wishing I had worn appropriate swimwear — not a bikini for Stone to ogle in these frigid temperatures, but scuba gear would have been nice. My clothes were causing drag, so I lost most of them, letting them sink to the ocean floor below while Stone watched.
I crossed my eyes at him with a sneer, my snarky comment about his pathetic dog paddle trapped in my mind. If only he could mind read instead of lip read.
Kicking a swirl of bubbles into his face, I swam toward the sub against my better inclinations, which were urging me to focus on breathing as the most important goal for survival. But I knew Stone would just drag my ass back, probably pulling my underwear off in the effort. I planned to just point out the dying person, hoping there was only one, and then get the hell out of dodge and never look back.
It seemed the urge to flee the Harbingers of Death would never leave me. I’d thought it had for a few precious months, but no. Onward and upward… especially in this case.
When we arrived at the submarine, Sena gestured for me to enter first with a smile that had bite.
Why the hostility? We’d barely met. I paused, noting her teeth were shockingly similar to Jessica’s. Did she know about Jessica? I was unclear on the difference between mermaids and sirens and how small the supernatural world really was.
Stone gave me a helpful shove down the hatch. So chivalrous.
These supes were crazy; I needed air, unlike the horse and mermaid. Didn’t Stone get that, at least? I had zero clue how the giant dog was so calm underwater.
The sinking vessel was solidly inundated now, so I swam down corridors, shoving aside flotsam, my lungs growing tighter. The urge to take a lungful of detrimental water was becoming harder and harder to resist, my panic escalating. I found no bodies and started to get frantic. But around a bend, I passed into a room that had a small pocket of air trapped at the top.
Breaking the surface, I took a hearty and grateful gasp, treading water. My respite was to be short-lived though. The damn water level was rising quickly, steadily shrinking the precious pocket of life-giving gas.
My eyes met the dilated and panicked ones of a man who hadn’t yet escaped the sub. Blood gushed from a wound on his forehead to mix with the water rising in a threat to overtake him.
“Oh, thank god, a rescue crew,” he gasped in heavily accented English, shivering and blinking slowly, clearly dazed. “You received our distress signal?”
A familiar sensation crawled up my throat as our heads bobbed closer to the ceiling, closer to going under.
Target acquired.
This sub would be the sailor’s watery grave. I was guessing I’d have to help lug this guy back to the boat so Charon could help his soul cross over. It was going to be tricky maneuvering his body as well as mine through the narrow maze-like interior. I bit my lip ring as my chin tipped up to suck down final breaths of oxygen.
Never bring more than you require. Any excess, particularly material objects but also emotional baggage, will weigh you down, perhaps even drag you down with the ship, so to speak.
A lesson Seke had told me when I got too heated fighting R
aven after she’d played a particularly venomous hazing prank was eerily relevant right now.
Where is the rest of the team?
When I decided to leave this unit, I didn’t mean for Davy Jones’s locker. As the scream worked its way up my throat and my mouth opened, ice-cold water rushed in, and the room filled to the brim.
My throat felt like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper. Blinking at a ceiling, I swallowed, cringing at the fiery burn that the action caused in my esophagus. I wasn’t sure which was worse: falling from thousands of feet or drowning.
Cross off the water unit.
I was quickly discerning my preferred element: earth. Water and air were out. What was next, fire? What supes would that introduce me to? More arrogant hellhounds since they seemed to be everywhere?
“Ah, Ms. Howler, you’re awake.” A nurse was just closing the door, smiling softly as she approached where I lay. She expertly checked my vitals, comparing them to the data recorded on a clipboard plucked from the end of my bed. “I’m afraid the dashing man who brought you in had to leave.”
Stone. Should have known with the name she’d called me.
“But he left a note,” she said, fishing a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and extending it as if it were a flower left by a doting boyfriend. “It was handy he was there to pull you from the water when you fainted while out sailing. You’re a lucky girl to have a guy so interested in you like that.” Her focus went distant and her expression wistful.
Interested? Obsessed more like.
“Yeah,” I deadpanned hoarsely, staring at the note as if it were a cockroach. I took the missive with reluctance.
“I’ll leave you to rest. Try not to speak. We’ll bring you some ice to suck on later, which will help soothe the ache you’re probably feeling in your throat. But for now, you’ve had enough water.” She winked and left the room.
