Redeemed

by Ann Gimpel

  Moira stood still until the opening winked out, resisting the temptation to shake her fist at the glittering rectangle.

  “She can be annoying”—Greenie landed on Moira’s shoulder—“but she means well.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Moira said. “They agreed to help.”

  Leif moved closer to her and the faery. “Will it be possible to construct a passageway to accommodate the thirteen land Shifters who can’t fly? We never finished that conversation.”

  “A wee bit harder without a borderworld to borrow magic from,” Greenie said, “but not impossible.”

  “We should return with ye,” the faery with iridescent hair said. “That way, we could get started. How long do we have?”

  “Maybe five days,” Moira replied.

  “Awk! We should have started long since,” the crimson-haired faery screeched.

  “We’ll be fine, Piotr,” Amithra said. “Ye worry overmuch.”

  “Fine?” he sputtered. “First we have to create foundations and make certain the whole thing won’t collapse beneath its own weight. Once that part is done, we—”

  “We will make it work,” she told him and angled her head to look at Moira. “We should get moving soon, though. No time to waste.”

  Moira considered how to proceed. Bringing the faeries back to the ship wouldn’t help any of them. “Do you know where we’ll leave the ship in northeastern Siberia?” she asked Leif.

  “I’ve been thinking about that. Anadyr is too far, and not precisely a straight line.”

  “Straight lines are much better,” Piotr said.

  “In that case, we’ll aim for the coastal area north of Pevek,” Leif said. “It has a harbor where we can drop anchor, and then we’ll launch rafts to get to the tunnel’s starting point.”

  “Ye’ll have to help,” Amithra said. “’Tis a verra long way for us to teleport. ’Twas how Ceridwen trapped us. She knew we couldn’t return easily on our own.”

  “How many are coming?” Leif asked.

  “All of us,” Piotr said.

  “Gather close. Find a spot to latch onto Moira or me. Once you’re there, hang on. This will be clumsy since we’ll bounce off a borderworld.”

  “Easier for us. We’ll resupply our magic as we pass through,” the green faery said.

  “Do whatever you want, but don’t let go. Got it?” Leif’s words were lined with steel.

  Nods went around the circle of faeries. Leif wrapped his arms around Moira. Faery hands clutched her arms, shoulders, legs. Wherever she had a spot good for grabbing. Their energy felt nurturing, reassuring, not unlike Leif’s.

  “I’m counting backward from ten,” he said. “When I reach one, we’ll be gone from here.”

  Moira pushed her magical center open and felt Leif’s essence pour into her like warm honey. She welcomed the feel of him, lapping it up like ambrosia. The moorlands fell away, replaced by the airless space between worlds. Surrounded by faeries, she found it easier to breathe. Maybe their wings trapped air.

  They passed through the borderworld in the blink of an eye and fell through blackness, but not for long. A desolate vista, ice-coated rocks and an empty beach took shape. Waves crashed on a deserted shoreline. No vegetation. No trees. No seabirds. Maybe they’d sensed incoming magic and gone to ground. The whale had said sea life was making a recovery, but you couldn’t prove it by this bleak stretch of real estate.

  The spell Leif had secured around them frittered away, and Moira was grateful for her many layers of cold-weather clothing. She’d been sweating in the U.K. Not here.

  Seemingly oblivious to the icy wind, the faeries flew this way and that, chattering amongst themselves. “We will be ready when ye find us,” they said in unison.

  “If you get into trouble, summon me,” Leif told them. “Use telepathy. Or teleport to the ship. It won’t be far.”

  “We will,” Amithra said. “Leave us so we can begin.”

  Leif smiled crookedly. “Looks as if we’ve been dismissed.”

  “It does indeed.” Moira leaned into him, ready when he circled her with his arms and his magic. She didn’t want the time with him to end, but they had news to impart and needed to get back to the others.

  Leif draped them in magic that had a slightly different feel to it, and the rocky beach dropped away. Unlike crossing immense distances, this spell felt small, intimate, warm. Plenty of air here, which told her Leif hadn’t taken them to the place between worlds.

  They came out in an unfamiliar building, but at least it was out of the wind that had scoured the beach north of Pevek. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “In Anadyr. The whole point of you coming was to learn to do this yourself.” He skewered her with his deep blue gaze. “I couldn’t turn you loose when we had all those faeries to transport, but you will teleport us back to Arkady. I’ll be next to you, but you’ll have control of the spell.”

  She smiled softly. “Learning was important, but mostly I wanted to be with you.”

  Ignoring the crux of her words, he said, “Talk me through how you’ll do this, and then make it happen.”

  She extricated herself from his embrace, standing straight. He’d challenged her, and she wasn’t one to back down from a test of her abilities. “Our magics aren’t precisely the same. You’re better at manipulating water than me, but how about if I mix fire with air to get us going? I can temper the mix with earth, inserting it where you used water.”

  “Let’s see how it goes.”

  She reached for him, but he shook his head. “I touched you to ensure my magic would bring you along. Trust I’ll take what I need from your spell.”

  Moira reached deep to the accompaniment of approving clucks from her bondmate. “For Christ’s sake, stop sounding like a chicken.”

  “I’m delighted you’re expanding our horizons,” it shot back.

  Moira narrowed her consciousness to her spell. It wasn’t intuitive. When she’d teleported before, she’d thrown everything but the kitchen sink into her casting. This was a far more elegant deployment of her power, one that wouldn’t drain her to bedrock. When the place Leif had dropped them disintegrated, jubilation filled her, but she didn’t focus on it. Her entire consciousness revolved around visualizing the ship and bringing them out within its confines.

  “Breathe,” Leif suggested. It was the first word he’d spoken, and she recognized she’d been holding her breath, perhaps in anticipation of there not being any air, but more likely because she was nervous as hell.

  She inhaled raggedly. It helped her concentration immensely. Moments later, they tumbled into an empty cabin. She redirected her magic, letting it zing wide to make certain they were on Arkady and not some other ship.

  Leif grabbed her and swung her around so hard her feet left the deck. “You did it.” He sounded as excited as she felt.

  “I did, didn’t I?” Unbalanced, she fell against him, triumph racing through her. It wasn’t so much a matter of needing strong magic, as of making the best possible use of the power at her disposal.

  He crushed her against him right before he slashed his mouth over hers, kissing her with the intensity of a drowning man who finally got his head above the waterline.

  Moira opened her mouth to his kiss, drinking him in. They needed to head to the bridge, but five minutes one way or the other couldn’t possibly make any difference. They’d earned this time together.

  Deserved it.

  Regardless, she craved the man in her arms with a force that stole her breath and weakened her knees. A raucous wail rose from her bondmate, the cry of a vulture on the make for its mate. Moira would have told it to stand down, but she was too busy, too lost in Leif, to let anything get in the way.

  15

  Mating Call

  Leif wanted to drag Moira into his arms when she disclosed she’d come along not only to learn but because she wanted to be with him. Despite how tempting she was and how desperately he wanted her, the timing wasn’t right. If she
’d been paying attention to how he manipulated power, she needed to test her skills now when the learning was fresh. Not later when she’d have to dredge important parts out of memory.

  So he’d pushed hard, and she’d succeeded.

  He felt almost giddy by how well she’d done. Because he’d been so delighted and proud of her, he’d let down his guard and swung her off her feet. When she stumbled against him, he’d stopped thinking and kissed her. The feel of her in his arms, pressed the length of his body was incredible.

  So enticing, he never wanted to let go. She threaded her arms beneath his, hooking her elbows and splaying her hands across his back. Even though he couldn’t see them, she had beautiful hands with delicately tapering fingers, fingers that were kneading his back and shoulder muscles, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

  He ran his hands the length of her spine until he cupped her high, rounded ass. She made a little mewling noise and let him draw her closer still. Breath hitched in his throat, and his cock thickened where it pressed against her belly. He wanted her with a lusty directness that set fire to every nerve, every sinew of his body, but they had to get a whole lot of things squared away first, not the least of which was the upcoming battle.

  She darted her tongue into his mouth. He sucked on it, delighting in how sweet she tasted. As if she’d been drinking the faeries’ nectar. Where her breasts were crushed against his chest, the nipples formed stiff peaks. He wanted to reach between their bodies and caress her breasts, rolling the nipples into points of delight with his fingers and his tongue. Just before he dipped his achingly swollen hard-on into the mysteries between her legs.

  His cock jerked where it was sandwiched between their bodies, perilously close to release, which wasn’t a surprise. He’d ignored the sexual part of his nature for years. Long before the Cataclysm, he’d focused on his people to the exclusion of anything personal.

  Yes, he wanted to come, but coming wouldn’t make a dent in his desire for Moira. The feelings he’d longed for in his youth when he’d hunted far and wide for his one, true mate, were upon him. His dolphin’s bleats and clacks reinforced his knowledge that the woman in his arms was the one for him. At least his bondmate wasn’t giving him a tough time because Moira wasn’t a sea Shifter.

  How could he explain their customs to her? That the courtship period came after the mating?

  Reluctantly, he broke their kiss and cradled the side of her face in one hand, running his thumb over the pronounced line of her cheekbone. She gazed at him, eyes liquid with longing and splotches of color decorating her face.

  “I know,” she said. “Horrible timing and all that. We need to find the others.” Her generous mouth turned upward, forming a wry smile. “I’m surprised no one’s battered down the door. Surely, Karin and Ketha have had their magical antennae out, awaiting our arrival.”

  “Don’t forget my whales.” He flicked the upturned corner of her mouth with his tongue. “The time for declarations is all wrong, but I’ve fallen in love with you. I’m delighted and humbled, but also worried one—or both—of us won’t make it through the battle at the gateway.”

  She nodded, her expression turning solemn. “We’ll do the very best we can. If the goddess wills it, we’ll live long enough to explore our attraction.”

  He shook his head. “Not how we do things. Sea Shifters declare our love, mate, and then enter into a lifelong courtship period.”

  “Sounds delightful since courtship is when you treat one another like precious gems.” She’d slid her hands beneath his clothing and ran her calloused fingertips along his ribs. “I hate to let go of you, but we have more urgent concerns.”

  “Does that mean you’ll agree to be my mate?” Leif pressed, needing to know.

  A shadow crossed her face. “I’d love to say yes, but we’ll revisit this after the battle.” She was watching him closely and must have picked up on his disappointment because she added, “Nothing can get in the way of our complete and total concentration defeating the demons who would claim Earth for their own.”

  Moira’s nostrils flared, and she went on, “From listening to your whale, I was hopeful it wouldn’t be as bad as I feared, but—”

  “The fact that all of Faery knew about the fissure blew that theory out of the water,” he finished her thought.

  “Something like that.” She ran her tongue over her lips. “I want a future with you as badly as I’ve ever wanted anything, but I cannot let that interfere. Nor should you be thinking about me right now.”

  “You’re wise as well as beautiful.” He hugged her close and then let go. She tugged her arms from beneath his, and the spot where she’d been pressed against him felt hollow, bare. His entire body thrummed with wanting her, but this was no time to announce a mating, particularly not for him. His pod would fear his senses had deserted him.

  “Thank you for the compliments. Most would describe me as a cold, overbearing bitch.” She cocked her head to one side. “It appears our presence has been discovered.”

  He picked out energy approaching from above. Juan and Aura and a whale. No way to erase the scents of desire from the cabin. He grinned, feeling mischievous, and gripped her hand. “Come on. We’ll take a shortcut to the bridge.”

  Squandering magic wasn’t his style, but he drew enough to teleport them from the cabin, that turned out to be on Deck Two, to the bridge. They stepped out into gray light streaming through the bridge’s glass wall. Viktor eyed them from his spot at the helm.

  “What’d you find out?” he asked without preamble, but Viktor wasn’t one to waste words on superfluous things like greetings.

  “Looks as if we’ll have help from Faery.” Moira unzipped her jacket and slid out of it, draping it across a chair.

  Ketha clasped her hands together. “What a relief. I’m so glad. I was afraid they’d forgotten, or now that we were closer to the actual skirmish, they’d get cold feet.”

  Juan and Aura pounded through a door with a whale behind them. “There you are.” The whale looked exasperated.

  Aura favored Moira with a pointed glance. “I could have sworn you were down on Deck Two, but before we got there, I felt your energy emanate from up here.”

  Moira shrugged. “Magic does funny things sometimes.”

  Aura regarded her through narrowed eyes but didn’t say anything more.

  “Tell us about this assistance from Faery,” Viktor urged.

  “Yes, I want to hear too,” Aura chimed in. “Do I get my tunnel?”

  “Yes, plus an entire Fae army.” Leif sent a sunny smile her way, hoping to lessen the sting of deceiving her with his rapid teleport maneuver. He undid his jacket to counteract the warmth of the bridge. His cock had subsided, so no need to keep the bottom half of his anatomy swathed in clothing.

  “Where will we leave the ship?” Juan asked.

  “Pevek has a harbor, right?” Leif looked from him to Viktor.

  “Yup, a decent one,” Viktor agreed, “but it’s quite a way from Wrangel Island.”

  “We left the faeries on a deserted beach a few miles to the north,” Leif said. “They’re on the spit of land that sticks out southeast of the island.”

  “So we’ll launch Zodiacs to reach them?” Juan asked.

  Leif nodded.

  “Hopefully, Arkady will be far enough away to escape notice,” Viktor muttered. “It’s not as if the sea lanes are crowded with vessels.”

  “They never were in that part of the world,” Juan mumbled, adding, “We’ll have to bring a fuel can along. Not sure a loaded raft can get that far and back again.”

  “The humans will remain aboard Arkady, right?” Leif asked.

  Juan made a face. “We hadn’t actually gotten that far yet. Some of them will want to help.”

  “Yeah, but if none of us return, it will take all nine of them and then some to pilot Arkady out of here,” Viktor said.

  Leif walked to where Viktor stood. “If none of us come back, it won’t make any difference
how many humans are aboard. There won’t be anywhere for them to run or hide.”

  Viktor cracked a bitter smile. “I suppose I haven’t fully accepted that.”

  Ketha draped an arm around her husband. “It’s a prudent warrior who goes into battle anticipating success. If you visualize failure, you can tip the scales in unforeseen ways.”

  “Not quite the right venue for estate planning, eh?”

  Ketha leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “No, it’s not. You love this ship, but if we lose against evil, it’s doomed right along with every other remnant of our old life.”

  Leif thought about the humans. “Anyone who wishes can offer aid,” he said. “Who are we to tell our human companions they have no value in a war where magics clash?”

  “They’ll get in the way,” the whale argued.

  Leif twisted to face him. “You have no way of knowing that.”

  The whale inclined his head. “I defer to my alpha, but if it turns out they’re an impediment, I may flatten them myself.”

  “If they turn out to pose a liability, I don’t think you’ll have to,” Leif replied. “They’re smart enough to keep out of the way. The plan is simple,” he went on. “Sea Shifters, Viktor, and Moira will approach the island as animals.”

  “Where we’ll stick out like sore thumbs,” Moira cut in. “I didn’t see anything living in the spot where we left the faery folk.”

  “That part can’t be helped,” Leif said. “Maybe we should take the faerie tunnel along with most of the land Shifters. As I assess the plusses and minuses, it seems better if we all show up at precisely the same moment, magical guns blazing.”

  “Will the tunnel accommodate all of us?” Aura asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” Moira replied. “The one on Malaita did. If not, we can retreat to plan A, which is twelve land Shifters take the tunnel along with any Fair Folk who wish to fight.”

  “When is this Fae army going to show up?” Ketha asked. “How many can we count on?”

  “I have no idea how many. Oberon and Titania went to gather them.” Leif frowned.