by Ann Gimpel
“I’d guess yes,” Rowana replied. “Wonder why he didn’t release them?”
Aura quirked a brow. “Maybe even demons don’t care much for Vamp company.”
“You’re funny.” Karin muffled a grim snort.
“Regardless,” Rowana went on, “I fell for the oldest trick in the book. One of the necklaces was uber-shiny, far more than it should have been. If I’d been thinking, I’d never have touched it. Or I’d at least have tested it with magic first.”
“The moment she closed her fingers around it, we got swept into a magical web.” Karin continued the tale. “And ended up in the back room of the church, hamstrung with magic. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t talk.”
“Damn!” Aura pushed air through her teeth. “Happened fast, huh?”
“Between the space of two breaths,” Rowana said. “I knew the moment I’d tripped the bait, and I threw every bit of magic I had into breaking the spell, but I couldn’t even slow it down.”
Karin narrowed her eyes to slits and stared at Aura. “How’d you hold the demon off?”
“It’s a battle I was losing.” It was humiliating to admit, but better than false bravado. “If Viktor hadn’t showed up when he did and shot the priest, it would have been too late. The priest would still be dead, but I’d have been swept into Hell.”
“Why wouldn’t the demon have jumped ship into your body?” Daide asked. They’d reached the Zodiac, and he bent to untie the anchor rope.
Aura dropped the Remington and her armload of clothes into the raft. The other women unloaded their clothes and clambered into the black rubber craft once it was back in the water.
“Do you know?” Daide persisted.
Aura shook her head. “Not really. It’s one of the things I meant when I said we didn’t understand enough about how good and evil function in a post-Cataclysm world. Demons have always left Shifters alone. Maybe that has something to do with it.”
“What if it’s not post-Cataclysm?” Ketha called. She ran toward them with her own load of shirts, pants, and jackets overflowing around her folded arms. In one nimble motion, she offloaded the items and followed them into the raft.
“Get in, everyone.” Daide motioned with the hand not hanging onto the rope. “I’ll be last.”
“You’ll get wet,” Recco observed and gave the saber to Ketha.
Daide shrugged. “Wet’s nothing. Today could have been so much worse.”
Aura climbed over the pontoon and settled into the Zodiac. Daide was right. They’d escaped disaster by the narrowest of margins.
He tossed the anchor rope to Recco and followed it inside the boat. The tide was with them. Once the raft moved beyond the shallows, he started the engine.
“Maybe it was a poor choice of words,” Aura mumbled.
“What was?” Ketha asked.
“Post-Cataclysm. My guess is we’re in some intermediate gray zone where it’s still out there, but not as strong as it was.”
The raft moved toward where Arkady rode at anchor at the edge of the cove. No one said much. Aura didn’t feel like talking, either. For all she knew, the Cataclysm could be resting up. Whatever face it showed next time might be even more ruthless than what they'd confronted in Ushuaia.
Worse, they’d exposed their strategy. To defeat it a second time—or a third or a fourth—they’d have to come up with something new. Something it wasn’t expecting.
Juan waited for them at the bottom of the gangway. Blond hair blew across his eyes, and the chiseled planes of his face reminded her of pictures she’d seen of the old-time Vikings. He was heartbreakingly beautiful, as if he’d been born to conquer the seas. An ache settled behind her breastbone, but whether she yearned for him or simply for companionship eluded her.
“You two head on up,” he told Recco and Daide. “I’ve got the raft from here.”
“You sure?” Recco secured the Zodiac to cleats.
“Yup. Quite sure. Dealing with the crane takes practice.”
Weariness dogged Aura as she waited to exit the raft. Nowhere near as debilitating as after they’d taken on the Cataclysm, but nor could she pretend she was at the top of her game. She needed food and sleep, not necessarily in any particular order.
One thing was certain. Waiting to see what the world had in store for them wasn’t good enough. They’d gotten lucky today, but they had to be better prepared before they ventured much farther. An idea formed, pedaling in tired circles around her equally exhausted brain.
Viktor and the other raft were nowhere in sight, so he’d probably taken it to where the crane raised the Zodiacs out of the water, depositing them on the fourth deck where they lived. She scooped up armloads of clothing they’d stolen from the gift shop, nodded to Juan, and plodded up the wobbly gangway.
We didn’t steal anything, she lectured herself.
Not exactly.
Ownership was a concept left over from her old life, the one she’d left behind in Wyoming. She balled her fists into the mass of fabric clutched in her arms until her hands hurt. Aura relaxed her fingers as she reached the third deck and angled inside the ship, headed for her cabin.
She’d do whatever it took to hedge their bets, make certain they survived. Pilfering a few items from a shop that hadn’t seen a proprietor in years was small potatoes. She sent a small shot of magic—about all she was capable of—at the latch holding her cabin door shut. It swung open invitingly.
Walking through, she kicked it closed behind her and dropped the tangled mass of clothing onto the other bed, the one she didn’t sleep in. She could sort out who got what later. Unzipping her parka, she hung it on a hook next to the door. Her next stop was the sink where she cupped water and dunked her face. Her head throbbed. Feeling dizzy and ill, she turned her attention inward for an overdue conversation with her cat.
“I really am sorry,” she told her bondmate, painfully aware she’d almost trapped it right along with herself.
“Skip that part. The question is, what are we going to do so something like today doesn’t happen again?”
Aura pitched facedown on the narrow bunk and burrowed beneath a wool blanket. “I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Me too,” the cat replied. “You go first.”
Chapter Six: Best Laid Plans
Juan waited until everyone cleared out of the raft. The events in Grytviken had rattled them. He saw it in slumped shoulders, set expressions, and sparse conversation. If he were brutally honest, he was worried too. He was used to unexpected things coming up while he was at sea, though. Used to holding a pleasant expression and not letting anxiety seep through to where it might show.
Beyond the rest of the unsettling day, he felt sick and shaky—and furious—about the information he’d picked up while linked to Aura. Goddammit! The woman had almost sacrificed herself. He wasn’t totally certain what it meant, but he’d rectify the gaps in his knowledge damned fast. Had she signed on for a one-way ticket to the underworld? Even if rescue might have been possible, her lack of judgment was damned disturbing.
Running on autopilot, he nosed the raft around to the boat’s bow.
“Crane,” Viktor shouted.
Juan readied himself to secure the craft. Once he’d centered it above a welter of cables, he tightened them from above until they held the boat firmly. He hung onto the crane’s rigging to stabilize it as Viktor engaged the mechanism to lift the raft out of the water. Once the Zodiac settled onto the deck, he jumped out, reaching back to retrieve the few items left inside.
Viktor snatched up the saber and one of the rifles along with a couple of warm jackets while Juan freed the raft from the crane and its pulley system. Wind was picking up, a portent of vicious storms bearing down on them. Weather changed fast in the Southern Ocean, so fast he’d learned to run with even subtle cues.
Viktor looked tired, his face drawn and pinched. “You can finish up here,” he said and turned to leave.
“Hold on a minute,” Juan called. Reeling up the cab
les could wait.
“Yeah?” Viktor turned around and dropped to a crouch, laying the items in his arms beside him.
“What do you think about... Well, about today?” Juan trudged to his side and hunkered next to him.
Viktor shrugged. “Not sure. Of course, I’d hoped Vampires were a thing of the past. In terms of the mad priest and demons breaching the veil between Hell and here...” His words trailed off, and he tried again. “It’s not like this is something any of us know much about. Supernatural phenomena weren’t exactly a university course when I attended.”
“The women know a hell of a lot more than we do,” Juan pointed out.
Viktor pressed his mouth into a thin, hard line. “Too bad none of it is written down. Ketha has that big, old book but whenever I’ve tried to page through it, it’s like reading gibberish. Plus, it’s written in Gaelic.”
He angled his gaze Juan’s way. “What are your impressions about today? You asked me for a reason.”
Breath hissed from between Juan’s clenched teeth. “Yeah. Today. A wake-up call? A doubled-up fist to my midsection? I’d written Vampires off, put them behind us. Finding those fuckers alive—well, kind of alive—was a hell of a shock.” He sucked in a tense breath. “We have to go back there and use the saber on them.”
Viktor frowned. “Why? They can’t escape. They’re not bothering anyone the way they are.”
Juan splayed one hand on the deck to stabilize himself as he played Viktor’s question through his mind. “Not sure. Maybe it’s stupid, but they give me the creeps. Beyond the creep factor, I hate them.”
“It’s what we were. For almost ten years.” Viktor leveled his green eyes on Juan. “Or have you forgotten?”
“Of course, I haven’t forgotten.” Juan bit off the words. “But I’d love to move past that part of our life.”
“We did. I’m far more concerned about what finding living Vampires means in terms of the Cataclysm.”
“Maybe we didn’t defeat it as thoroughly as we thought we did.”
“No maybe about it.” Viktor slid down until his butt connected with the deck and stretched his legs in front of him. “Since we’re kicking this around, part of me wants to head right back to Ushuaia. At least we know what we have there.”
Juan’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected that.
“Yeah. I know.” Viktor’s nostrils flared. “If there was even a ghost of a communication system left in the world, I’d turn Arkady around.”
“There’s not. If we retreated to Ushuaia,” Juan spoke slowly, “then we’d never know how the rest of Earth fared during the Cataclysm. I’m worried about what we’ll find, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to go look.
“Besides,” he went on. “This isn’t like when we used to ferry rich tourists around. We couldn’t make any kind of major decision without putting it up for a vote.”
Viktor rolled his eyes. “I suppose you’re right. I’d certainly run this past Ketha, but I never considered tossing it out for open discussion.”
Juan smothered a snort. “Because you’re used to being captain and making decisions the rest of us have to live with, no matter how we feel about them.”
“Really? How many times did you want to toss me to the fishes?”
“You don’t want to know, amigo.” Juan pushed upright. “Redirecting our attention to the next few hours, there’s a storm afoot. I smell it, and the barometer’s probably dropping.”
“This cove is as safe as anywhere if a hurricane blows through,” Viktor muttered.
“Let me check my instruments, and I’ll give you my recommendations. No point setting sail if we hit big winds and huge swells.”
“True enough. Some of the women got really seasick.”
Juan looked askance at Viktor as he stood. “Seasick, hell. It’s nothing but a minor inconvenience. We lost Gavrill ten years ago. I’d rather not sink another boat.”
An odd expression crossed Viktor’s face, disbelief mixed with anger. “Are you suggesting it was my fault Gavrill pitched up against those coastal rocks?”
Juan raised both hands, palms outward. “Not at all. Where the hell did you come up with that from what I said? If we hadn’t crashed, all of us would have died. The Cataclysm would have killed us in the open sea.”
Viktor squinched his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, he said, “Sorry. Today took a toll, and I’m reacting rather than thinking. The thing about the Cataclysm is we don’t actually know what it would have done if we’d remained at sea. The only thing we know for certain is it formed a barricade around Ushuaia and probably every other population base in the world. Nobody in. Nobody out. Who knows what happened to areas where there weren’t very many people.”
“Good point. Didn’t Ketha have some way to communicate beyond Ushuaia?”
“Yes. I did too, with Arkady’s radio, but my ability to reach anyone petered out after the first few years. From what I gleaned, the Cataclysm appeared to be a widespread phenomenon.”
“Have you asked Ketha what she found?”
“No.” Viktor hesitated. “I can’t wrap my head around every single ship at sea when the Cataclysm struck, sitting at the bottom of the ocean. Maybe some of them ran out of water, out of food, out of fuel,” he went on. “If it’s true, then they didn’t fall prey to the Cataclysm, but to an inability to reach port.”
“The end result is the same,” Juan muttered.
“Yeah. Dead is dead, no matter how you got there. I’ll ask Ketha who she talked with at the front end of the Cataclysm. Maybe she knows something I don’t.”
Before Juan could craft a reply, Viktor picked up the saber and the rifle and the clothing and vanished through a door leading inside.
Juan returned to the crane and finished straightening the cables so they’d be ready for next time. He flipped the rafts upside down. That way they wouldn’t take on water if it rained—or if waves got high enough to wash over the deck.
Small actions like putting the Zodiacs to rights were soothing, but he wasn’t fooled. No matter how many trivial elements he piled atop one another, control was the flimsiest of illusions. He clamped his jaws together. Even if Viktor floated his suggestion about returning to Ushuaia, Juan would argue against it. They owed it to themselves—never mind anyone else who’d survived the Cataclysm—to gather as much data as they could.
“I’m a resource. Include me in your plans.”
Juan’s eyes snapped open. “Caught me dead to rights,” he told his bondmate, not bothering with telepathy since it felt clunky and awkward.
“Viktor ignored his raven too,” the cat continued. “He did recognize the women know more. Why do you suppose that is?”
“Because they’re more used to being Shifters?”
A rough, rolling snarl filled his chest until Juan opened his mouth to let it escape. “Not the right answer, eh?”
“It’s not only about being a Shifter. It’s about preparing for it and never, never forgetting to include your bond animal. Not for a moment. You wouldn’t simply take a stab at moving this boat around,” the cat went on. “I’ve watched you. You’re methodical. Careful. You check things many times before setting a course in place.”
Juan battered back a desire to defend himself. Of course, he didn’t know shit about being a Shifter. Neither did Viktor or Recco or Daide.
“I can read your thoughts,” the cat reminded him, sounding smug.
“And?”
“It’s not so much about you knowing nothing about the magic foisted upon you. It’s more that you’ve made little effort to learn about it beyond the fun parts where you become me, and we hunt.”
“When would I have had time?” Juan winced. Self-justification had no place here. Neither did excuses. “Never mind. I could have made time. You’re absolutely correct. Testing the boundaries of my magic never felt important—until today when you helped me free Karin and Rowana.”
The cat was silent long enough, Juan wondered if i
t was done rebuking him. Not that he didn’t deserve the reprimand.
“I’m relieved you acknowledged your shortcomings,” the cat said. “Gives me hope I chose well.”
“If something I do disappoints you, speak up when it’s happening,” Juan muttered. “This will take time. It’s not like I embraced being a Vampire. Magic isn’t second nature to me like it is to Aura and the women.”
“But you will prioritize it,” the cat pressed.
“Yes. I will. Promise. I told you the same thing back in the church,” Juan replied.
“Good. Magic is like anything else. It becomes easier the more you use it.”
The temperature was dropping, and Juan shivered inside his polar-insulated clothing. He couldn’t work the crane with gloves on—not easily, anyway—so his fingers were white and numb. He stuffed his hands inside his pockets and flexed his fingers to bring blood back into them. During his years as a Vampire, he’d grown used to playing his cards close to the vest. He’d never talked about his antipathy for his Vampire-hood. Or much of anything else. Vampires weren’t a chatty lot, and most lost their ability to introspect. Blood and sex drove them, interspersed with the occasional meal when blood wasn’t available.
Today’s conversation with Viktor had been intriguing—and disturbing. His discussion with his bondmate was also well-timed, and he offered silent thanks to the animal for reaching out to him. In truth, they knew less than nothing about the Cataclysm, other than the maelstrom had been spawned by a nefarious plot gone bad.
Shifters had schemed to rid the world of Vampires once and for all. The bait they’d offered was an infusion of Shifter power to strengthen the Vampires’ abilities. The ploy was appealing enough to lure Vamps to a secret meeting in Siberia. They craved power, and adding the capacity to take on another form proved a heady incentive. Except the Shifters were lying. Their actual intent was to turn Vamps into Shifters and be done with the bloodsucking scourges forever. One of the Vampires had caught wind of the conspiracy at the eleventh hour. Since he was already involved in a forbidden love affair with a Shifter, he’d consummated it, knocking the enchantment off its axis.
