Blood in the Water

by Cleo Peitsche

  “What are you doing out here?” she demanded as she squeezed her dark hair, wringing out the seawater. Koenraad couldn’t quite read the expression on her delicate features.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he said. He wrapped the towel around his hips.

  Darius returned, his snow-white hair damp and hanging straight around his head, making him look a little bit like a monk. The similarities surely ended there.

  Even though Darius was quite a bit older than Koenraad, he was in superb physical condition. Shifter bodies didn’t soften with the passage of time. All things being equal, an older shifter was far deadlier than one in the prime of his life.

  Experience counted.

  Darius stepped into a pair of linen pants, then slipped into a red Hawaiian shirt. He took his time getting dressed, and that irritated Koenraad. Monroe was waiting.

  “I was just telling Koenraad that we were looking for him,” Victoria said.

  Koenraad knew the claim was a lie, but he wasn’t surprised when Darius nodded in agreement as he smoothed his fingers over his short, neat beard. “We were. I have a proposal for you. One that I think will make everyone happy.” He looked at his niece. “Why don’t you go keep the bodyguards company?”

  Pique flashed in her eyes, but she stalked away.

  Koenraad was going to press Darius on what he was really doing out in the middle of the ocean, so close to the sick, but Darius turned and walked inside.

  Koenraad followed.

  Darius slid a coffee capsule into a machine. “What kind would you like?”

  “I’m fine.”

  While the espresso brewed, Darius opened a cupboard and removed a package of muffins. “I can’t get enough of these,” he said. “Cranberry walnut. The combination of tart and sweet makes my jaws ache right here.” He tapped under his ear. “Have a seat, Koenraad.”

  “I’ve got things to do.”

  “You’ll want to hear my suggestion,” Darius said easily.

  “I hear just fine without sitting.”

  Darius smirked. “First, I want to apologize for Victoria’s actions. She hasn’t been herself, you realize. Not since she lost her unborn baby last month.”

  Koenraad hadn’t heard about that, hadn’t even realized that Victoria was pregnant, but frankly, he didn’t care. Knowing Victoria, it was a lie she’d spun for compassion. Regardless of the veracity of the statement, if Darius was bringing it up, it was because he intended to manipulate Koenraad.

  The family was consistent like that.

  “I’d like to accept your apology, but we have a problem,” Koenraad said. “Victoria challenged my mate.”

  “She was upset,” Darius said dismissively. “We talked about it, and she’s willing to drop the challenge.”

  “In exchange for what?”

  Darius grinned. “Smart boy. You’re so apolitical that sometimes I forget…”

  “Forget that I’m not stupid,” Koenraad supplied.

  Darius laughed as he added a teaspoon of sugar to his cup of espresso. He held it up to Koenraad in a toast, then sipped the contents.

  “I’ve never thought of you as stupid,” he said finally. “Sometimes I forget that just because you don’t play the game doesn’t mean you’re not following every move. So I won’t waste your time by beating around the bush. Kendra is quite upset about what happened in court.”

  “I recall. She doesn’t like having her time wasted with nonsense trials.”

  Darius squinted, took another sip. “Don’t go getting ahead of yourself. Victoria tells me she saw things, and I believe her. Now, she’d like to dig into it, try to make sense of what happened that night. But really, what does that serve?”

  Koenraad refused to react to this, refused to even consider the possibility that Darius had somehow guessed the truth: Brady had attacked Monroe, and Koenraad had given her an infusion to save her life.

  “Kendra wants Victoria to publicly apologize. As you know, my niece isn’t the groveling type.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “I’m sure if you were to talk to Kendra, you could change her mind. Perhaps you could have a word with Wyeth as well. Not only will Victoria drop her challenge, you’ll earn the gratitude of our entire family.”

  Koenraad saw now what was happening. Going to the Council and formally saying that he bore no ill will toward Victoria could well make him look guilty, like there was some basis for her accusation. What he didn’t know was if that was part of the plan. If he was being set up.

  Or maybe what Darius said was the truth. Or part of it. Koenraad knew better than anyone how much Victoria cared about saving face. Being forced to apologize because of a human would be high on her list of unbearable situations; she despised humans, especially female humans.

  Especially Monroe.

  But did Victoria care so much about the temporary humiliation of having to apologize that she would renounce her chance to legally kill Monroe? Koenraad wasn’t convinced. Perhaps the judges had a stiff punishment in mind. A punishment that would force Victoria far away? He needed to look into that.

  “I think I know what’s giving you pause, son,” Darius said. “But consider that Victoria’s actions have caused numerous problems for me as well. She wants it to go away, but I’d like it to go away even more.”

  “What’s to stop her from going back on her word once you get what you want?”

  Darius set down his empty espresso cup. “Have I ever broken a promise? My word is good. Victoria understands that.” He smiled wryly. “At the very least, she doesn’t want to incur my wrath.”

  “I want her away from Tureygua,” Koenraad said.

  Darius nodded. “Naturally.”

  Now Koenraad was more certain than ever that it was a trap. “Give me a day to think about it,” he said.

  “Of course,” Darius said, but his agreeable words were shaded with displeasure. “Can we drop you off somewhere?”

  There was no way in hell that Koenraad was going to allow Darius to take him near Monroe. “Anywhere close to town,” he said. It would add significant time to his return to the yacht, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to let Victoria believe he and Monroe were living on the island.

  It was unconscionably late by the time he was in the vicinity of the yacht.

  He sensed two boats.

  If Darius and Victoria had set him up… He tripled his effort, wringing every last ounce of speed from his exhausted body.

  Chapter 6

  When the impact never came, Monroe slowly lowered her hands and opened her eyes. She knew her reaction was ridiculous and immature, but it was a reflex.

  She was just glad that Koenraad hadn’t witnessed it. She’d already humiliated herself enough recently. Of course she wasn’t going to seem fearless compared to a shark, but even a marshmallow had more backbone than she did.

  A squid, she could imagine Koenraad teasing. Less backbone than an octopus.

  The thought of Koenraad’s reassuring voice was enough to get her feet moving down the steps. She ran back up to shut off the engine, then hurried down again. The unfamiliar yacht had come to a stop close enough to hers that she assumed the people aboard wanted to speak with her.

  “Hallo, The Good Life,” came a familiar voice.

  Monroe’s entire body went weak with relief. “We have to stop meeting like this, Spencer,” she squeaked.

  “Where’s Koenraad?”

  “He’s swimming around, looking for… something,” she said. She was pretty sure that Spencer knew everything about Brady. After all, Spencer headed the lab that was working on a cure. But she didn’t think Spencer knew Brady had attacked her, in which case, better not to bring Brady up at all.

  “He’s looking for Brady,” Spencer said. It wasn’t a question.

  “I can’t see you. It’s weird yelling into bright light.”

  The top lights switched off, then another light switched on, and Monroe saw Koenraad’s best fr
iend. He wore a tight T-shirt. She hadn’t realized exactly how muscular he was. If she weren’t head over heels for Koenraad, Spencer would definitely have caught her eye.

  He’d certainly caught her best friend’s eye. Tara was back in New York now, but she’d gone gaga over Spencer. Of course, Tara was still married, though Monroe expected that to last exactly as long as it would take Tara to file for divorce. Lee had screwed up in the most unoriginal way possible. Instead of groveling and trying to get Tara back, he’d turned into a jerk, blaming Tara for his infidelities.

  “Do you mind if I keep you company?” Spencer asked.

  “I’d love company,” Monroe said truthfully. “Can I come over there?” She appreciated The Good Life, but after a week, she was ready for a change.

  “Sure.” Spencer disappeared, then his boat was moving slowly. Monroe headed toward the swim platform, and when Spencer’s yacht was close enough, she leapt over the narrowing gap.

  “I’m aboard,” she called out, pleased with herself. A few weeks earlier, Spencer would have had to coax her over. Funny how the things that used to terrify her now seemed harmless.

  Of course, she now had legitimately awful things to worry about. It was all about perspective.

  Spencer’s yacht moved a distance away. For safety reasons, Monroe assumed. It was a good thing she felt so comfortable with Spencer because otherwise she’d have been freaking out. After all, she was in the middle of nowhere on a boat with a deadly killer.

  But Spencer was too sweet to be afraid of.

  “Hungry?” he asked. “I’ve got a fruit salad in the fridge and a fresh, uncooked pizza in the freezer.”

  “Fresh pizza doesn’t come from the freezer,” she pointed out.

  “It’s fresh enough that it won’t have bad freezer burn,” Spencer said, and Monroe smiled. Koenraad had alerted her to sharks’ ability to taste just about anything.

  “Did you know when I’d landed on your boat?”

  “Yup,” he said, and she added it to her growing list of things shifters were capable of noticing.

  He preheated the oven and dished out two bowls of fruit, then they went onto the deck to eat.

  “I’m actually glad Koenraad is away,” he said. “I wanted to ask you about Tara.”

  Monroe hid her smile behind her fork. “What about her?”

  Spencer chewed on a piece of cantaloupe and appeared to be considering his next words. “I realize that asking this violates the best friend code, but could you not mention my questions to her?”

  Monroe nodded. “You saved Koenraad’s life, and mine, too. If I keep your secret, we’re even.”

  That made Spencer grin. “Deal. Tara’s husband… Do you think there’s a chance they could get back together?”

  “Absolutely not. When Tara is done, she’s done. Between us, I never liked him. I mean, I could see the appeal.”

  “Which was?”

  “Lee is attractive and successful. He’s very… confident. Tara intimidates men. She’s got a really strong personality and an opinion on everything. So I think she felt Lee was a good match.” And in many ways, he was. Very alpha and cocksure. Too much so, in the end.

  Spencer nodded. “I could see how she’d keep a man on his toes.” His grin told Monroe that he didn’t anticipate having any trouble holding his own.

  “Are you ever in New York? I can give you her number.”

  “I’m there often enough, and I already have her number. I’m just not sure when, or if, I should use it. I don’t want to complicate a messy situation.”

  A beeping came from the oven, and Spencer pushed to his feet. Monroe glanced over at The Good Life to make sure it hadn’t floated too far away.

  There was something a bit unsettling about looking from a distance at the yacht she’d been living on. It made her feel like she was floating above her body.

  “I’m really happy that you and Koenraad are together,” Spencer said as he sat again. “He’s a good shifter, and you make him happy. He deserves that, and I know he’ll never let you down. It’s just not in his DNA.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’ve examined his DNA.”

  “Actually, I have, and that’s what I came out here to talk about,” Spencer said. His eyebrow quirked. “And just a warning. Koenraad told me that he wants to have at least twenty children. He’ll expect you to spend your days in the kitchen, cleaning up after him and the brood, and your nights pleasing him in the bedroom.”

  “Well, that last bit is accurate,” Koenraad said.

  Monroe started, her heart pounding wildly. She hadn’t heard him. He was naked, and his hair was dripping wet. He leaned over to gently kiss her lips, but it was enough to make her want to drag him to The Good Life immediately.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said to her.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “Any luck?”

  “I caught Brady’s scent, but briefly.”

  “Also had a run-in with Darius and Victoria,” Spencer said as he tossed Koenraad a towel. “Even the contaminant can’t scrub off the reek of entitled shifter.”

  Koenraad nodded somberly.

  Monroe needed to use the bathroom, but she managed to hold off until Koenraad had finished recounting his unexpected meeting and what Darius had suggested.

  “I’ll be back,” she said, and hurried off.

  When she returned, the topic of conversation had changed to blood. Monroe quietly slid into a seat.

  “And only Brady’s blood had this reaction?” Koenraad asked, his brow furrowed.

  “His blood was extremely unstable,” Spencer said. “But I don’t think that means the contaminant will affect him more than anyone else, or you’d have had problems already. To some degree, the stuff is everywhere in the water, including your inlet.”

  “What’s wrong with Brady’s blood?” Monroe asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong with it,” Spencer said. “I was carrying out a series of tests on the contaminant, adding it to blood samples from different shifters, and Brady’s results were atypical to say the least. Exposure made his cells unstable.”

  “Unstable?” Monroe asked.

  “Shifter cells are unstable as a rule, but only under a precise set of circumstances,” Koenraad explained. “Because Brady can’t shift, I would have expected his to be the opposite.”

  “And generally speaking, his are,” Spencer said. “When exposed to the chemicals that cause other shifters to change shape, his cells don’t react. That’s how we know the condition is physiological.”

  “So he’s stuck not because he doesn’t want to, or doesn’t know how to, but because he physically can’t,” Monroe said, mostly to herself. It was about the saddest thing she’d ever heard. She squeezed Koenraad’s hand.

  The oven’s alarm sounded, and Spencer disappeared.

  Koenraad turned to face her. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s fine.”

  “I can’t wait for the day when we don’t have to deal with this anymore,” he said. “And I’m sure you’re anxious to get your life restarted.”

  “I think we should take Daryl’s offer.”

  “Darius.” Koenraad looked at her. In the low light, his eyes reflected silver. “It’s probably a trap.”

  “Yeah, and they’ll think we have our guard down. But we won’t. And in the meantime, it’s better than hiding.”

  Now it was Koenraad’s turn to squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this,” he said.

  Before she could tell him that she didn’t regret a thing, Spencer yelled for them to come carry their own damned pizza.

  After dinner, Koenraad went back to The Good Life, which had drifted quite a bit, and brought it back so Monroe could walk over. He didn’t ask her why the autopilot was off, and she didn’t volunteer.

  She went to take a shower, and Koenraad went back to talk about shifter things with Spencer. He wasn’t back by the time she toweled off, so she got into bed.
<
br />   She didn’t even remember falling asleep until Koenraad was getting into bed. He pulled her close to him, and it was like her body melted in his arms and reformed to fit snugly against him.

  “Spencer had one other bit of news,” Koenraad said. “It sounds like Bamboo hasn’t told anyone that you had shark blood in your veins. Not that it matters at this point, because we’re mated, but the quieter things stay, the better.”

  “You don’t really want a zillion kids, do you?” she asked.

  “I want whatever you want,” he said. He nuzzled the side of her neck.

  “But… would our kids be shifters?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” That was a strange idea to wrap her mind around. “Would they…”

  “Turn out like Brady? No. At least, it doesn’t seem to affect half-human shifters any more than children born to two shifter parents.”

  She turned in his arms to face him. “Do you really want more kids?”

  “Like I said, I want what you want. The arguments for and against it are both compelling. Anyway, we have time.” He brought her face toward his, and what started as a gentle kiss turned feverish.

  He nibbled his way down her throat, then back up again, pausing over the pulsing vein in her neck. Even though she trusted him fully, it always made her a little nervous.

  It also excited her, making her think about the night he’d claimed her.

  She thrust her hand under the sheets and found him ready. Both his cocks. No spikes, though that was fine by her. For now.

  Chapter 7

  Outside the compound, Koenraad tilted back his head and looked up into the darkening sky. The weather forecasts said the worst of the storm would miss Tureygua and head out to open ocean, but his instincts said otherwise.

  Experience told him to always trust his instincts in situations like this.

  That morning, he’d taken Monroe to a secluded house he had access to. It wasn’t the luxury she deserved, but it was hidden, and two experienced bodyguards were with her.