Redeemed

by Ann Gimpel

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She smiled crookedly, her eyes dark pools of lust. “Yes. I’m sure. The mystery is why you’d want me. Not only am I not a sea Shifter, I won’t be a Shifter at all.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s you I want. We’ll figure out the rest as we go.” He didn’t add his concerns about the morrow. He didn’t have to. She knew the stakes as well as he did.

  Catching the end of the sash holding her robe together, he flicked it to undo the bow. When her robe fell open, he pushed it aside. Breath caught in his throat as he gazed at the vista of high, firm breasts tipped with coppery nipples. Shapely ribs led to a slender waist and flared hips. A carpet of spiky curls nestled between her beautiful, long legs. The musk of her arousal mingled with the scents of her magic, bayberry, pine, and wild things.

  He traced the lines of her body with both hands. “You are so beautiful. So unbelievably lovely.” He filled his hands with her breasts, rubbing the nipples with his fingers. She arched her back, moaning low in her throat as he encouraged her nipples to grow longer, harder.

  She moved until she could snake a hand beneath his robe and curve it around his cock. The feel of her flesh against his was heady, and when she tightened her grip on him and explored his shaft with her fingertips, it took all his willpower not to come. He mixed in a jot of magic to mute his arousal.

  “I want to see you too,” she said.

  Because he didn’t want to let go of her breasts, he directed a thread of magic to untie his robe. Once it was free, he shrugged out of it, letting it pool around where they lay entwined.

  “You’ve seen me naked plenty,” he reminded her. “Every time I transitioned from dolphin to man.”

  “Yes, but then I had the good grace to look away—most of the time.”

  “And now?” He smiled because it felt so good to have her in his arms, bodies pressed together.

  “Now I’m sorry I was so polite before. You’re incredible.” Letting go of his cock, she ran her fingertips from his shoulders down one arm. From there, she pinched his pebbled nipples and then moved her hand lower, across his stomach and hips. Wherever she touched him, his body heated until every cell was on fire with need.

  He flipped her onto her back. Starting with the hollow in her throat, he ran his mouth down her breastbone until he hit nipple level. He took one of her breasts into his mouth, sucking hard. She groaned and grappled for his cock again but couldn’t reach it.

  He lashed his mouth from breast to breast. Joining his magic to hers, he felt her arousal spin higher and higher. She was panting, head thrown back as he pleasured her. Before she came, he slithered lower, licking her belly, until he latched onto her nub, alternating sucking with swirling the tip of his tongue around her distended flesh. She gripped his head. Her hips thrust against his tongue as he urged her higher still. He slid fingers inside the hot wetness of her body in time to feel her muscles clench and release as orgasm streamed through her. Because he was linked to her magically, it was harder than hell not to come.

  Leif had moved beyond choreographing his next moves. The need to be inside her surpassed everything else in the world. As soon as the spasms from her climax quieted, he knelt between her legs, one hand wrapped around his achingly hard cock.

  She spread her legs, curling them around his waist, and settled her hands on his hips, drawing him forward. Her skin had developed a lovely rose cast, and lust flowed from her in waves. He wanted everything. To look at her forever. To plumb her until he was dizzy with heat. To go back to suckling her distended nipples.

  She grinned up at him. “We may get to all those things. For now, I want you inside. It’s been a really long time.”

  “For me as well.” He stopped, hovering at the opening to her body, the head of his cock seated at her entrance. “No going back, Moira, my heart, my love. Once we’re done, you shall be my mate.”

  Her smile softened, and her eyes turned molten with desire. Thrusting upward, she captured the first inch of him.”

  He sank into her. As the heat from her body surrounded him, the rest of the world dropped away. Always before when he’d made love, he’d withheld his semen. Not tonight. He’d gift Moira with his seed, and it would seal their mating. He waited until he was fully encased, allowing her to stretch around his girth. She writhed, pushing with hands on his hips to encourage him to move.

  “Once this gets going, it will develop a mind of its own,” he warned her.

  “Music to my ears. Come on. My first orgasm was an appetizer. I want the real thing.”

  He supported himself on his arms and bent low, kissing her while he withdrew from her body, swirled the head of his appendage around her opening, and sank back inside. Her breasts jutted into his chest, and sensation ratcheted through him. To be making love with Moira was like a dream. He’d imagined being inside her just like this so many times, he almost couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

  Around the dozenth stroke, he stopped thinking. He moved her legs so they draped over his shoulders and held onto her hips as he drove into her. Her body tightened around him, upping the ante on his pleasure. She was close to release. He felt it in her magic and in the tension of her vault.

  He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on, so he wove a streamer of magic around her clit, snugging it to rub against her engorged nub. She arched her back and melted around him in a flood of heat. No more need to hold back. Two more thrusts and semen juddered from him. He came for a long time, drowning in pleasure.

  Somehow, he ended up lying on top of her with her arms and legs wrapped around him and her crooning to him in Gaelic. He wanted to scream his triumph to the skies. Moira was his. They were mated.

  “I love you, darling,” he murmured into her ear.

  “I love you too. There, I said it.” She dragged her head back to look at him. “I hope to hell you don’t regret this. It would be hard to bear if I lost you too.”

  Feral protectiveness ran hot. “The only way you’ll lose me is if I die in battle. You are mine, my heart, my love.”

  She drew his head down next to hers on the pillow. “You’ve made me a very happy woman. We should try to sleep a little.”

  “Yes. Morning will come all too soon.” He held her close and spun spells to ensure she rested. “I’ll watch over you. Now and always.”

  Her breathing slowed, and she relaxed against him.

  Leif cleared his mind. No point worrying about what came next. They’d face tomorrow when it happened. For now, the woman he craved more than life itself loved him back. It was more than enough.

  “Sleep,” his dolphin said. “I will wake you when it’s time.”

  20

  Battle Cry

  Moira zipped her parka all the way up and buried as much of her face as she could in its folds. They’d reached Pevek at dawn. After a quick meal where everyone wore grim expressions and choked down food because they needed it to fuel their magic, not because anyone had an appetite, Juan and Viktor had readied two rafts.

  No one had said much, either on the ship on in the rafts. They’d fight in the groups they’d practiced with and deal with whatever presented itself. Sleet sheeted from the sky, bitterly cold and stinging when it hit her face. Wind scudded by, turning the gunmetal surface of the sea into whitecaps that sent water over the pontoons. A couple of inches coated the floor of the raft, turning to a slushy, slurry of ice.

  Bringing two rafts had been a last-minute decision. The sea Shifters had originally planned to swim but carting along bags of dry clothes to keep all of them warm enough to fight would have overloaded a single raft holding fifteen land Shifters.

  The rafts were burdened as it was, riding low in the water, which exacerbated the problem of waves crashing over the sides. Beyond the foul weather, a hideous stench had done nothing but grow worse. She didn’t understand why the wind didn’t blow it away. Instead, it bore down on them in a choking miasma that tied her belly into a painful knot.


  One minute it smelled like a charnel pit, replete with rotting bodies. The next like roadkill that had sat so long, maggot-riddled flesh sloughed off the bones. She resisted gagging, and the food she’d consumed earlier settled into a heavy, indigestible lump in her gut.

  Eiocha was the only one who’d used magic to travel to the faeries’ portal. She’d left before them, ostensibly to gather the fair folk who wished to lend a hand today. Still no word from Oberon or Titania. It was hard not to worry whether they’d show up, but Moira was used to working with what she had.

  The previous night with Leif had heartened and revived her. She loved him, and his unconditional acceptance of whatever form her magic ended up taking allowed her to dismantle her barriers. They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms and made love one more time just before dawn.

  It would be a cruel twist of fate if she’d finally found a man to love only to have the small slice of happiness ripped away later today.

  I can’t think like that, she chided herself, knowing she had to focus on sealing the gateway. If they couldn’t manage it, evil would continue to pour through its portals. Whoever was left on the good side of the aisle would end up leaving Earth for a borderworld.

  Once that happened, the world she’d always known would die.

  Viktor angled the raft toward a sandy spit coming into view through the storm. Eiocha was in horse form, stamping her front hooves. A bevy of color sorted itself into a phalanx of faeries. It looked to Moira like all of them were there. Their valor made her chest tighten with emotion. They understood this was a battle for everybody. No one got to sit this one out.

  The second raft chugged alongside of them, and both Zodiacs ran aground. Moira waited, exiting the raft when her turn came. Eiocha cantered over. “Hurry,” she urged. “Oberon and Titania are already there, and they’ve sustained serious losses. They need us.”

  A frantic cry rose from the faeries. Sorrow and worry were rolled into their anguished shouting. The king and queen of faery might not be their lieges, but they adored them and didn’t want them harmed.

  Leif gripped Moira’s hand, and they followed Viktor and Ketha to a glistening slash in the gunmetal air. Fairies scuttled into the portal, chanting to enhance their magic that had built the enchanted tunnel.

  Time slowed, seconds turning into minutes, as they slogged through the passageway. Moira felt the magic anchoring it to the bones of the Earth. Resolve straightened her spine. She would not allow evil to triumph. Earth was helping them. It needed their support, so darkness wouldn’t overshadow its goodness.

  “Ready yourself,” Leif murmured next to her ear. “This will go fast once we emerge.”

  She held tighter to his hand, giving it a hard, fast squeeze, before extricating hers to free it for fighting. “Magical battles never last long.”

  “It seems so,” he agreed, “or maybe they go on forever but when we’re in the thick of them, time advances differently.”

  “Thank you for last night. I’ll treasure it always.”

  He draped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against him as they trudged through the passageway. “I’ll treasure you, protect you with everything in me.”

  Alarm rattled through her. “No. You’re alpha for your people. They must come before me.”

  “You don’t understand. You’re my mate, which means you’re part of my pod now too. I feel the linkage the same as with my whales and dolphins. If you extend your magic, you’ll sense the connectedness betwixt us.”

  She leaned into him before ducking from beneath his arm. “I’ll sort that part out later. For now, loving you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” She didn’t add anything further. Her fears about the outcome of the battle had no place here.

  Visualize winning, she instructed, her mind voice stern. Winning was everything, no matter what the cost.

  Magic altered around them; it took more effort to move forward. They’d emerge at the fissure very soon. Panic threatened to engulf her, and she gulped air to calm herself. Now wasn’t the time to second guess anything. They were here because they had no choice. She narrowed her focus to the dirt beneath her boots and steadied her breathing, sucking each breath to the bottom of her lungs. The stench had vanished when they entered the faeries’ tunnel, but she had no doubt it would return.

  As if her thoughts held Aura’s prophetic ability, the tunnel’s incandescent walls shuddered to nothingness. Rot and decay hit her like a wave, along with the clash and cries of battle. She joined Viktor and Ketha, the Shifters she’d practiced with, and directed power outward.

  “Wait until we’re closer and have a clear shot,” Viktor shouted.

  Moira scanned what lay in front of her. It was so surreal, she blinked and switched to her third eye, but nothing changed except ley lines, which came into view. Glowing beneath her feet, they formed an interlacing network. A few feet away, a gaping, throbbing hole rimmed with what looked like blood, pulsed as if alive.

  Twisted, hideous creatures poured through the hole. Some with a single eye in the center of horny foreheads, others with three red eyes scattered in no particular pattern. Demons with scales, cloven hooves, and forked tails joined squat, swarthy goblins. Giants carting cudgels entered the fray. Harpies flew above, screeching their war cries. Foul magic flowed from them, emitting a rancid hypnotic quality. A griffon burst from the hole, followed by a tall, beautiful man with clouds of black hair and eyes the shade of raw emeralds.

  Oberon and Titania sat astride winged white steeds. In front of them, ranks of Fae fought with magical swords and power jetting from upraised hands, but they were no match for the monsters rushing through the gateway. Wherever a Fae fell, the ley lines wound gleaming tendrils around him, forming a protective barrier. Moira hoped the strands offered healing for those not mortally wounded.

  Three more goblins marched through the ever-widening scar across the landscape. It looked as if someone in Hell had issued orders, and every single foul denizen was on the move.

  “The gateway!” Leif cried. “We must seal it now. Everyone to me.”

  Moira buried her terror deep. She’d been rooted in place because the reality stretched before her was too much to take in. Eiocha thundered past, faeries clinging to her wide back. Flanked by Viktor and Ketha, Moira ran after her. Fell creatures sent dark magic crashing against her warding, the blows so stout they nearly knocked her to the ground, but she kept going.

  Their progress toward the hole felt like it was happening in slow motion, as if they swam through an oily, dank residue that stuck to her feet and kept her from moving forward. She shook her head to clear the darkness pummeling her and eroding her thought processes.

  “Ley lines,” she panted, forcing out words. “Got to hook into them.”

  With difficulty, she focused her third eye on a shiny line. It brightened beneath her attention, and clean, pure power surged through her feet.

  “Thanks,” Ketha gritted. “It’s like I got stuck in a bad dream.”

  The gateway loomed. The beautiful dark-haired man stood in front of it, the griffon next to him. With its eagle head and lionesque trunk and legs, it drew her attention like a lodestone until she wrenched her gaze from its magic.

  The man held up his arms, and the fissure quieted. “We can come to terms.” His voice was low and musical, imbued with compulsion the likes of which Moira never dreamed existed. The urge to run to him and fall at his feet was so intense, she took a step in his direction before stopping herself.

  Who the hell was he?

  Eiocha planted herself right in front of him. Amid a bright flash of white light, she claimed her human form. “Tantalus.” She tossed out his name like a curse.

  “Eiocha, most lovely of goddesses.” He bowed low. “So pleased you remember me.”

  “Save your false compliments.”

  He crossed his arms over an impossibly broad chest. Flowing robes fell open, displaying his perfect body. “No need to be so cross. Your time on Eart
h is done. It’s finally our turn. I offer you a small portion of land where you’ll be most comfortable.” He made a disapproving face. “’Tis far more than you and yours did for us.”

  Tantalus.

  Moira raked through her memory banks and came up with the half-human son of Jupiter who’d not only stolen from the gods, but who’d killed and dismembered his son, serving the unfortunate lad up in a stew. Furious at being fed the flesh of their own, the gods had exiled Tantalus to Tartarus, where he lived in constant hunger and thirst.

  She balled her hands into fists. If the myth was true, how had he escaped?

  What a stupid question. All of Hell is on the loose, why not him?

  She narrowed her eyes, paying close attention to Eiocha. The goddess had draped power around her faery escort, and they stood close, forming a ring around her.

  “No bargains,” Eiocha cried in a clear, ringing voice. “If you weren’t worried about losing, you’d never have offered one.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” Tantalus waved a lazy hand, and the fissure came to life again, disgorging a giant, who’d apparently been trapped in the liminal space behind the gateway.

  Two Harpies divebombed Eiocha, but her warding held, deflecting the magical arrows aimed her way. Oddly beautiful with their women’s heads and bare breasts and thickly plumed bird’s bodies, poison spewed from their clawed hands. Their eyes were hammered silver, spinning like pinwheels.

  Ketha wrapped an arm around Moira’s shoulders, forcing her gaze downward. “Don’t look,” she hissed.

  “Everything in this fucking place wants to mesmerize you,” Moira muttered.

  “Yeah, right before it kills you,” Ketha sneered. “Makes their job easier if you don’t fight back.”

  Ketha’s words redirected Moira, and she gathered power, balancing it between her hands, waiting for when Eiocha would clear the path between them and the gateway.

  She and the other Shifters arrayed in front, beside, and behind her had moved closer, spreading into a single line, while Eiocha talked with the fallen half-god. Not that Tantalus viewed himself in that light.