Were-Devils' Revenge [Were-Devils of Tasmania 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Simone Sinna

  Chapter Three

  Queensland, Present Day

  On their first day off, Mac and Mitch organized a light plane to Cairns. They went straight to the docks where there was no shortage of charter boats. The owners of the first one they went to recognized Lena immediately from the photo in the Nature’s World article.

  “She and her cousin run an operation called Tropical Tours,” said the man at Cairns’ Tours. He inclined his head to his left. “But you won’t find them there.”

  “Where are they?” Mac was tense and looking around. He didn’t like the feel of this place.

  “They’re off on the reef with a group,” was the reply. “Saw them leaving yesterday.”

  “How long are they usually out?”

  “A week. Be back in six days.”

  They were due for a day off then as well, so the Mortimers decided to return then. But not before they asked their charter flight pilot to take them back to Dream-maker via the reef.

  “Which part?” asked the pilot. “There’s a lot of reef out there.”

  Mac and Mitch had both dived but never on the Great Barrier Reef. They pored over a map, and Mac pointed to two sites that had high dive ratings.

  The plane took off and headed northeast. The pilot pointed out the first site. Two dive boats were moored there.

  “Go as low as you can,” said Mac, eyes fixed on the boats.

  The divers were underwater. Just the tour operators, two on each, were on board, and they waved as the plane circled.

  “Well?” asked Mitch.

  Mac shook his head.

  The pilot gained height and went to the next site. Before they got there Mac saw another boat below.

  “That one,” he said.

  The pilot didn’t bother asking why. He had probably had stranger requests. They were still well above when Mac sensed it. Though amongst the divers mingling on the deck he could not make anyone out, he knew they were there. As the plane swooped it was the two not waving that drew their attention. A large, broad-shouldered man with short-cropped, white hair pulling the sail and a slim woman whose long, blonde hair was flying in the wind. Their eyes bored into the Mortimer brothers, and Mac felt himself turn cold. Melody’s Destroyers. A rage bubbled within.

  “We’ll get them,” said Mitch, hand gripping his brother’s arm. “In six days.”

  * * * *

  Mac was running a dive boat to the south of the reef the next day. They were too far south of Cairns for there to be any risk of running into the Destroyers. Just as well, he decided, when Gabriella turned up with the six divers for the 5:30 a.m. departure.

  “My lucky day?” asked Mac, not trusting himself to look at her.

  “I’ve checked your brother out,” said Gabriella. “So I thought I should make sure you didn’t leave any of my guests behind to drown.”

  Mac would have taken this as an insult if Pete, the boat operator, had not told him about the recent inquest where a dive operator had done just this and two tourists had never been found. Or rather only bits of them much later.

  “Are you planning on diving?” he asked.

  “I’d like to if possible.”

  “Then I hope you brought your license.” He’d already checked everyone else the night before. Gabriella looked amused. “I guess I can tick your thoroughness then,” she said as she handed over her book. “I’ve been diving since I was a teenager, something Dad and I used to do.”

  “You teach?”

  “No, I leave it to you guys,” Gabriella replied. “But if you have a weak or inexperienced diver, I’m happy to buddy them.”

  Mac shook his head. “They’ve all got plenty of dive hours up. Just need to keep an eye on Beavis and Butthead.”

  Mac didn’t need to explain any further. The two, men in their early twenties, looked like they had a hangover. For three nights in a row Gabriella had had to break up the partying because of noise level. The other divers were two couples, both in their thirties, one couple Germans and the other Americans.

  The boat made a steady pace to the dive site with the wind and current in their favor. The Germans sat up the front on the deck, but the remainder went inside and slept. Gabriella told Mac about the dive, one of her favorite locations though the better ones were farther north.

  “Do you get up there much?” Mac asked.

  “I’ve got friends and family in Cairns and Port Douglas, so yes,” said Gabriella. “Fortunately I can access cheap charter flights.”

  Mac raised an eyebrow.

  “My dad.”

  Mac felt more pleased than he should. Just because she hadn’t succumbed to Mitch’s charms didn’t mean she had a boyfriend or that he stood a chance. But the attraction was as strong as ever. He loved the way her eyes flashed and the corner of her mouth turned up when she was trying to look nonchalant. He also liked that he’d caught her looking at him and she’d blushed. All his life he had trusted his instincts, and right now they were screaming at him to take this woman. Right there and then preferably.

  They moored at the reef, and Mac went over the rules. Beavis and Butthead were rolling their eyes and yawning.

  “Sorry to be boring you, boys,” said Mac, thinking he was glad he hadn’t gone to a boys’ school after all. “But I haven’t dived with you before, and we all need to know what to expect.”

  One of them, the blond surfing type, did a Heil Hitler salute, and the other giggled.

  “We’d hate for you to have to swim home,” said Mac through gritted teeth. He went over the times and depths and then watched them all check their tanks. He double-checked them himself.

  Gabriella pulled her dress over her head and sat down to ease on a wetsuit. Mac caught sight of her as he helped the couples to the stairs. She was stunning. The bikini left little to the imagination, but his imagination took him there and beyond. Her skin was lightly tanned and with no evidence of white strap marks. Mac had to stop himself moaning at the thought of her sunbathing topless. Her breasts only just fitted into the cups of the white bikini top, and as she bent over, the rounded cheeks of her ass just seemed to invite being massaged.

  Distracted, Mac didn’t get to the two troublemakers in time. They grinned, doing backflips off the side of the boat, only narrowly missing their heads on the side. He grabbed his own tank, shaking his head.

  “Need a hand?” he asked Gabriella.

  “I can manage,” she said.

  “Yeah,” said Mac, watching her zip up her suit. Less distraction at least.

  This part of the reef was well protected and had little current. Most of the coral and fish were in the first twenty yards, so there was no need to do a decompression dive, and Mac had reiterated that the divers were to keep a close eye on their gauges. Staying closer to the surface also had the advantage of using less oxygen, and divers could stay longer in the water.

  Keeping an eye on the troublemakers, Mac settled into an easy and comfortable interaction with Gabriella. He usually buddied with Mitch but had had plenty of other dive partners, none though who were as comfortable with both the water and him as she was. He let himself enjoy the dive, taking note of the amazing colors of the fish. The two couples had taken chicken bones with them, and he watched as the fish crowded around the divers holding the bones. Mostly they were small, quick, brightly striped fish, but a few larger gropers also muscled in on the act, one biting the American woman’s finger. Mac watched as she made her finger bleed to see the green blood globules. Not enough he figured to attract sharks.

  Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Gabriella signaling him. Trouble. The boys, it seemed, had headed left—and down. She was trying to tell him why, but they were already chasing the boys before he figured it out. A large sea turtle had come past, and they were trying to catch it. No chance in hell.

  The turtle was not feeling social and was smart enough to head down where it was darker. Beavis and Butthead were not so smart.

  Mac looked at his gauge in alarm. He co
uld see them below and ahead of him, and he was already on the edge of decompression territory. Idiots. He had to make a decision. He knew he could catch them in time, but not with Gabriella with him. If he accelerated to his true capacity, she was savvy enough in the water to know that it was not humanly possible, and he didn’t think she was ready for the truth just yet. He signaled her to stop, and with a lot of frantic sign language, some of which was universal and some of which was ad hoc, he told her to go back to the boat and get a spare tank and meet him at the decompression zone below the boat. He was hoping not to need it, but at least it would distract her. She protested, but in the end he was the dive master and she did as she instructed. As soon as she started to ascend, Mac took off at his maximum pace, more than double what he had been doing.

  Beavis and Butthead never saw him coming. He used all his strength to pull them both up from above. They stopped and turned, protesting, but when they looked at their depth gauges, they knew enough about diving to know they were in deep trouble. Or would be very soon. Mac figured they had less than a minute. He grabbed them both, punched their chests to remind them to breathe out, and pulled each of their life vest cords, causing them to shoot upward. Mac sighed and followed at a more leisurely pace, returning via the meeting spot where he found Gabriella waiting. They surfaced together, the boys already up.

  “You got them up!” Gabriella said in amazement when they surfaced.

  “With five seconds to spare,” said Mac. “Thanks for the tank, glad we didn’t need it.”

  Pete helped haul them all out of the water, and Mac gave the boys a thorough dressing down. They were suitably chastised and apologetic. They’d just never seen a turtle like that.

  They ate lunch as the boat moved to a second site for the afternoon dive. Mac threatened the two boys with being keelhauled if they didn’t behave, and he looked serious. Gabriella’s stories of how fast Mac had been and how certain of himself he had been in the water added weight to his authority.

  Most of them stretched out for a sunbake or a sleep until they got to their destination. Mac watched Gabriella ease out of her wet suit, wanting more than ever to give her a hand. Her nipples, firm and hard, showed beneath the white material, and he imagined sucking them.

  She looked at him and smiled mischievously. “Any chance you could rub some lotion in?”

  Any chance any man would say no to that? Mac certainly wasn’t about to. Her skin was cool under his hands, and he gently rubbed the lotion over her shoulders and neck and then down her back. He longed to undo her strap and wished they were there alone. She moaned slightly. “Mmm, you’re good at this.”

  “There’s a masseur qualification on the resume, too,” said Mac. He took the lotion over the cheeks of her ass where the bikini didn’t cover, and she wriggled slightly. She seemed to be liking it. Mac hoped it wouldn’t become too obvious how much he was enjoying it, too.

  “Maybe I’ll call upon your services then,” said Gabriella. “Not just for the suntan lotion.”

  “That,” said Mac, “could be arranged.”

  * * * *

  Launceston, Tasmania, 1939

  Larissa shivered as the spring breeze rustled the leaves of the climbing roses that engulfed the gazebo, hiding the house from her, and her from the house and her family. Edmund was late, but then he was coming from Tarrabah and he knew he had to be cautious coming onto Karlssen land. They had chosen this place because of the privacy and the rose smell that would hide Edmund’s were-devil scent from her family. She heard a sound and stiffened, but it must have been the wind. Peering out of the gazebo, no one materialized from the dark shadows.

  She knew he would be shocked at her news but was equally sure he loved her and that somehow he would make things right. His faith in their love was one of his most appealing traits. That and how she felt when his dark eyes with their amber streak looked into hers. She had not meant to succumb, and he had given her every opportunity to back out, but desire had overruled the common sense Angel said she didn’t possess.

  This time the rustle was Edmund, and with him there, arms around her and lips pressing on hers, then her neck and back to her lips again, Larissa’s doubts and fears evaporated.

  “I’ve missed you every second we’ve been apart,” Edmund murmured, his hands now over her breasts. Larissa could feel her nipples harden and tingle as surely his cock did against her groin.

  “Me, too,” Larissa whispered. But as always their words were lost in kisses and the responses of their bodies. It was still cool in spring, but the heat from Edmund was more than enough to provide them both with warmth. Larissa pulled at the buttons of his shirt as he pushed her dress up and over her head. Amongst the deep sweetness of the rose scent she smelled him, a maleness that made her wet with desire.

  Edmund paused to drink in her body, slim and straight like a child’s, skin white and hair so blonde it was almost translucent in the faint rays of the moonlight. Larissa helped him unclip her bra, and her breasts, generous for someone so slim, spilled into his hands. His lips pulled on her nipples, pink and sensitive to his touch.

  Edmund ran his tongue down her abdomen, tickling her belly button and leaving Larissa giggling. But as his mouth moved lower, and his hands eased off her silk drawers, the giggles turned to gasps. He had never done this before, and Larissa felt herself blushing but at a loss to stop him. Her whole body tingled with anticipation.

  She felt his tongue over her most sensitive part then pushing open her lips. The feeling was exquisite, a mixture of the unknown and the sheer naughtiness of what he was doing. She wouldn’t even be able to tell Angel. She heard herself groan and felt her hips move involuntarily to his touch, fingers now opening her and making her his forever.

  “Do you want me, my love?” he asked softly.

  “Always,” Larissa said.

  Edmund turned her over and pulled her hips to him. Larissa felt the tip of his cock pressing against her pussy, and she gasped as he pushed inside, filling her. It felt like it did each time, that she was far too fragile for a man as large as Edmund, but then the feeling always gave way to a desire to have him deeper and harder, thrusting inside as her muscles clamped over him, drawing him in as all her fears disappeared and they became one.

  Edmund’s hand gripped one breast as his other hand moved over the front of her sex, rubbing her clitoris at the same time as he thrust into her from behind. The tension began mounting, and as they rocked together, both finally exploded in a moment of ecstasy that Larissa wished would last forever.

  Larissa curled up in Edmund’s arms in the cushions thrown around the gazebo and tried to stay in the moment and savor the feelings of being safe.

  “You don’t have to go yet, do you?” she asked tentatively.

  Edmund nibbled her ear. “I can stay to dawn if you’d like, though I don’t fancy the gardener finding us here.”

  Better the gardener than Charles or Adam or her father. But Larissa refused to think about this, not when she was feeling so mellow.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “And I you,” replied Edmund. There was a pause. “I’ve applied for a license.”

  Larissa felt her heart race. “Oh, Edmund.” She kissed him, aware that there were tears on her cheeks.

  He cleared his throat. “I got my orders. I’m heading out the end of the month.”

  Now Larissa’s tears had a different origin. She couldn’t bear to think of him in danger somewhere on the opposite side of the world.

  “You will come back to me, won’t you?” she asked.

  “If I have you to come back to, then beyond doubt,” said Edmund.

  They made love again, this time with a gentleness that was without pressure, as if time didn’t matter. When Edmund left her half asleep on the cushions in the early hours of the morning, Larissa could only think of her love for this man. It was not until later that she realized that she had still not told him that they were going to have a baby.

  Chapter Four<
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  Queensland, Present Day

  Gabriella put the phone down and stared out the window. Guests were on the beach playing volleyball under Mitch’s instructions, but even he wasn’t distracting her.

  The call had been from her mother, telling her that Great-Aunt Marianne had died. Gabriella hadn’t been close to her great-aunt and couldn’t remember when she’d seen her last, so it wasn’t this as such that was disturbing her. Her mother was asking her to come to the funeral later in the week. She had hinted that Gabriella might be needed, that Gabriella’s grandmother in particular thought her attendance important, though just why Gabriella couldn’t establish.

  “She’s always thought you and Lena might be critical to our future,” was all her mother would say. Gabriella had no idea what it meant though she suspected her mother knew more than she was saying.

  Getting there would be easy enough to organize, and her father would fly her to Cairns, so it wasn’t this either that was worrying her. The issue was that Marianne, though old, shouldn’t have died. Her husband had apparently become increasingly paranoid, and Gabriella’s mother, who normally kept well away from family dramas, had been dragged into this one by her mother. And if Gabriella’s grandmother, the clan’s self-appointed matriarch, was involved, then there was no way to refuse. This was serious.

  Gabriella had known from her cousins that things had not been going well. They had been fired up by Marianne’s husband and were convinced as he about a curse rebounding on them, though they didn’t believe it was fate, and thought their nemeses from the south were behind it. They had been looking locally for someone they believed was set to destroy the family but so far had come up empty-handed.

  Gabriella’s grandmother had always been the sane one in these disputes. Gabriella hoped she would still be able to keep the peace. But something told her that things had changed, and she worried for her troubled cousin Lena who already had only just narrowly missed serious injury.