by Ann Gimpel
Aura watched him cross the cabin and let himself out the door. Her body vibrated with unslaked lust. She wanted Juan. Wanted to wrap her arms and legs around his tall, lean form and draw him into the secret place deep inside herself, but they didn’t know one another very well.
“You’re thinking with your modern brain.” Her cat was back. Or, more likely, it had never left.
Aura stood and draped her robe over the hook where it lived. She rummaged through the closet for clothing purloined from the ship’s stock and Grytviken’s gift shop and dressed quickly. Thick dark sweatpants, woolen socks, and a thin ivory silk top covered by a fuzzy, patterned long-sleeved light jacket.
“Say more,” she urged her bondmate.
“The secret to a successful pairing is being alike,” the cat said. “So you’ll understand one another.”
“Alike as in, both Shifters?” She pressed for clarity.
“Yes, but there’s more. You fought the Cataclysm together. You worked side by side to rebuild Ushuaia. There’s not much left of the world. You two are survivors.” The cat purred, contented, rich, and low. “What more do you need?”
Aura didn’t reply, but the modern brain her cat had complained about buzzed with concepts like knowing each other better and sexual compatibility and well-matched intellects. Beyond those things, there were only sixteen of them aboard the ship. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake that might impact everyone’s ability to work as a tight-knit team. What if she and Juan embarked on a relationship and it went south? Would some people take her side and some Juan’s? The more she thought about it, the more reluctant she was to pursue her attraction to the handsome Argentinian.
The purr turned into a growl. “You get to know someone after you join your life to theirs. Anyone can figure sex out. You have better than a decade of formal education. He doesn’t, but while you were lost in books and dreams, he was gathering a practical knowledge set you lack—”
“Enough.” Aura smothered a wry smile. “This isn’t fair. You know me inside and out. It’s as if I have a metaphorical husband already.”
“Nothing like a spot of practice to prepare you for the real thing.” The cat sounded smug.
Aura stuffed her feet into a pair of low shearling boots and walked out into the corridor. Karin’s door opened, and the doctor let herself into the hallway. Dark circles etched beneath her eyes, and her luxuriant, white hair was freshly washed. It hung to her waist, and she shoved it behind her shoulders.
“You look trashed,” Aura said.
Karin regarded her out of shrewd, copper eyes. “Thanks. I blew through scads of magic between healing you, fixing Viktor’s ankle, and fighting demons. I have every right to appear trashed.”
“It wasn’t a criticism.” Aura looped an arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “I never got a chance to thank you for saving my vision—and my connection with my bondmate. How’s Vik’s ankle?”
“Not broken, but he tweaked some tendons and ligaments. Those can be worse than a break. I got his raven on board. Between Shifter magic and an Ace wrap, he’ll be fine soon.”
“Were you on your way to dinner?” Aura asked. They’d reached the next deck down from their cabins.
“Yeah. Originally, I’d thought to stop by the makeshift lab Ketha’s setting up on the other side of this deck—the place where the crew used to bunk. But I’m tired. I won’t be much help until I’ve eaten and slept.”
Ketha hurried toward them from a side corridor. The distinct reek of Vampire clung to her. “Am I late for dinner?”
Karin wrinkled her nose. “No, but go up and shower and change clothes or you’ll put everyone else off their feed.”
Ketha rolled her eyes. “Damn it. My nose didn’t exactly adapt, but I washed up and thought I’d eradicated the worst of it. Back soon.” She vaulted up the stairs.
“I promised I’d help with dinner preparations,” Aura told Karin. “Why don’t you settle in? Food should be up very soon.”
“There’s a lot we need to talk about—” Karin began.
“Yup. My thoughts were tripping over each other when I stood in the shower, but all those things can wait until after dinner. Or even tomorrow. Besides, it requires all of us. Not just you and me.”
“I suppose you’re right. Hurry along. I’d offer to help, but the galley’s none too large.” Karin walked into the dining room.
Aura squeezed her arm and turned hard left through the swinging galley doors. Juan, Recco, and Daide had an assembly line set up. Several dishes appeared ready to serve.
“Since I missed the cooking part, can I take those to the tables?” she asked.
“Sure.” Juan barely glanced at her. Had her earlier withdrawal killed his interest?
If it did, she told herself, he didn’t care very much at all.
Except maybe about getting laid.
She picked up two serving dishes and shouldered her way back through the swinging doors. Once she set them on tables, she returned for more. Good-looking men like Juan and Viktor probably had their pick of rich women on their many polar junkets. She wondered idly how many Juan had lured to his bed. The more she thought about it as she stocked the tables with food, the more certain she was it had been a close to perfect setup. Lots of sex with zero push for commitment.
After all, none of their passengers would have wanted to turn their lives upside down by living on a rustic cruise ship. The whole scenario pissed her off until she remembered the odd graduate student who’d found his way into her bed. None of those dalliances had ever been planned. They just happened, but she’d cut them off at their roots immediately afterward. Not only was it contrary to faculty standards of conduct, all the men had been much younger than her.
Babies, actually. And she’d never have been able to disclose what she really was. For the most part, Shifters mated with other Shifters. End of story.
She poked her head back into the kitchen, surprised to find the food preparation table empty. “Is there more?” She glanced Juan’s way but avoided eye contact.
“No.” He knitted his brows together. “I told you as much, last trip through. Sit down and eat before it all gets cold.”
Aura turned and left the galley. He clearly wasn’t interested in talking with her. Hell, he’d all but shooed her out of the kitchen. And the expression on his face... It suggested she was brain damaged.
Anger simmered, but she instructed herself to move past it. Better for her to find out about his Lothario tendencies now, than after they’d made love.
She slid into a chair at an unoccupied table. The solitude wouldn’t last, but maybe she’d have it to herself long enough to quell her tumbling thoughts. Her appetite had deserted her, but she piled food onto her plate anyway, chewing and swallowing mechanically. She was halfway through a beef and rice casserole, canned corn, and fresh biscuits when Ketha and Viktor joined her.
“Looks great!” Viktor dug into the community dishes, filling his plate.
Ketha did the same. For a while, they ate in silence, and Aura began to breathe easier. Maybe she’d escape the dining room before one of her sisters noticed her inner confusion.
“I almost hate to bring it up”—Viktor glanced at his wife—“but have you made any progress on the Vamp DNA?”
“Barely had time to get started. So, yes and no.”
He looked askance at her, and she rolled her eyes.
Aura had been readying excuses to leave the dining room, but she wanted to hear what Ketha had to say.
“What I really need,” Ketha muttered, “is a sample from a Vampire not in stasis. I could use a normal human for comparison too, but it’s not likely to happen.” She took a measured breath. “Even with the stuff we took from the biochem lab in the barracks, I’m still missing a lot of items. I can treat cellular matter with ethanol and extract DNA from there, but I could use far more sophisticated test equipment than a microscope.”
“Did you find differences?” Viktor persisted.
“Yes. Lots of them. The question is the etiology of those differences. I have no idea what your profile showed before you turned from human to Vamp to Shifter. Surely, it’s bound to have had some effect on every cell in your body. Likewise, it’s not as if there’s a textbook lying around that profiles Vampire physiology. So I don’t have anything to compare my results with.”
Aura thought back to her lessons on Shifter physiology. They’d been part of the special Shifter school she’d attended one night a week for years.
Juan strode to the front of the room. His hair had dried, and it framed his face in soft waves. Aura tangled her hands in her lap. She had to come to grips with the fact she’d never run her fingers through his glorious hair. Never crush her mouth down on his. Too many risks, and their survival still hung by a ragged edge. Eventually, they’d run out of supplies. If they couldn’t find more, they’d be in the same dilemma they’d faced in Ushuaia.
Juan clanged a knife against his glass to get everyone’s attention. “I ate my dinner on the bridge,” he said, “because I wanted to cast some weather projections. I figure the storm will dog us for maybe one more day, but then we need to get moving.”
Viktor pushed to his feet and limped over to join Juan. “I’d like to spend tomorrow learning as much as I can about Shifter magic.” His gaze roved about the room. “Does it work for you gals, since you’ll be our teachers?”
Rowana got to her feet. “We’ll help all we can, but developing your magic will take time. It’s not going to happen overnight.”
“We know, but we’ll prioritize it whenever we can.” Juan sent a winning smile Rowana’s way, and a jealous barb stabbed Aura right through the heart.
She looked away, maintaining a neutral expression until she feared her face would crack. She was being ridiculous. Reacting like a teenaged fool, not a woman in her forties.
“Before you all head off to bed,” Viktor said, “I wanted to go over our choices of where we go next. We could head southwest to the Palmer Peninsula. It hosts more research stations. We may find survivors. No promises what they might be, though.”
“If we don’t go there,” Ketha spoke up, “what’s next? Back to Argentina?”
“It’s one choice,” Viktor said. “Or Chile. Punta Arenas is fairly close. Other options are Australia or New Zealand. When we shared Ketha’s vision, we found life in Buenos Aires. My guess is most large cities will be much the same. There is a downside, though.”
“Which is?” Karin asked. She didn’t appear quite as beaten down as she had before dinner.
“Piracy,” Juan replied. “Ships like Arkady have always been hot items because of how long they can remain on the open seas. Our other ship was boarded once, but Viktor persuaded the brigands to leave.”
Viktor snorted. “Persuasion is one word to describe it, but that incident was more like a display of brute force. I showed them the business end of the Ruger and told them they had one minute to clear my deck. Guess they believed me because they swarmed over the side as if I’d already begun shooting.”
“You believe we’re safer limiting ourselves to places that have always been underpopulated,” Karin said.
“Yes, at least for a while, but we all have an equal say in this,” Viktor replied.
“This isn’t a decision for us to make tonight.” Juan’s expression turned serious, and it made him even more appealing.
“I brought it up now because I want everyone to think about it,” Viktor concurred. “We don’t have to pick a firm destination until the storm blows itself out and we’re ready to pull anchor.”
He made his way back to their table and picked up his fork, clearly intent on finishing his supper.
“I’ll bid you good night,” Aura said. “It’s been a difficult day.” She picked up her plate and utensils, added Ketha’s to the stack, and carried everything into the galley so she could wash them.
She was standing over the sink when Juan joined her, balancing a stack of dirty dishes. “Want some help?” he asked.
She kept her gaze firmly focused on the sink. If she looked at him, she’d soften, and it was a bad idea. “I’m okay,” she said. “Go ahead and put them there.” She pointed to the sink with soapy water in it.
“Aura...” he began.
She shook her head. “It’s all right. Leave the dishes and go. We’re all too wiped out to do much more than fall on our faces tonight. Spend what energy you have left getting to know your cat better.”
He dropped a hand over hers. “It’s exactly what I’ve been doing. And why I’m here. My cat says—”
The plate she’d been washing clattered into the sink and broke. Aura spun to face him. “Don’t. Just go, please.”
“But I don’t understand. What did I do?”
“It’s not you. It’s me. We’re not a good idea. Please, just leave.” She wanted to punch him, but she also wanted to throw herself into his arms. The combination made her insides churn with indecision. Thank the goddess her cat had the good sense to lie low.
“As you will.” Juan looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he turned and strode out of the kitchen, his tread heavy and purposeful.
It was the right thing to do, she told herself as she picked shards of crockery out of the sink and chucked them into a garbage can.
Only problem was she didn’t believe it, and a part of her felt like she’d killed something wonderful before it even had a chance to get started.
Chapter Fourteen: Chances and Changes
Juan tossed and turned. He’d spent the day working with Aura on mastering a rudimentary set of magical skills. She hadn’t wanted to pair up with him. He’d seen it in the stiff set of her shoulders and her averted gaze, but their bond animals had been quite clear regarding their wishes. He’d done enough to piss off his cat, and he hadn’t wanted to alienate it further by refusing to partner with Aura when the cat pushed him in that direction.
His cock throbbed hotly between his legs. Lusting after Aura hadn’t made the day any easier. Why wouldn’t she talk to him? Tell him why she was giving him the cold shoulder treatment. He’d been encouraged when she invited him into her cabin the afternoon before, but she’d edged away like a skittish colt as soon as he touched her. He sucked in a deep breath, but it was a mistake. Her scent clung to the clothing he’d worn all day. Candle wax, old leather, and jasmine. His cock jerked against his belly. He closed a hand around it and stroked himself a time or two, but that wasn’t what he wanted.
Bringing himself off was a stopgap. Nothing more. It wouldn’t make a dent in the lust spilling through him.
He swung to a sit, planting his feet on the floor. Sex had been a simple proposition for years. He’d never lacked willing partners aboard his ships. Many of their passengers were older, single women who welcomed a romp—or two. He’d taken care not to become attached to any of them, but none of the women exerted much pressure, either.
They’d guessed he’d never leave the sea, and none of them saw living on a boat as a viable lifestyle. A wry snort blew past his lips. Once he’d become a Vampire, opportunities for sex had been plentiful, but he’d never warmed to any of the female Vamps. Raping humans who were frightened to their bones wasn’t his style, either. He stared at the hard-on jutting from his body amazed he was still capable of producing one after a ten-year hiatus.
Juan stood and paced back and forth in his small cabin, mostly to move blood somewhere besides his penis. He had to relax enough to sleep. They’d leave the protected harbor guarding Grytviken tomorrow morning, and he had to be at the top of his game. He understood the dynamics of keeping them on course, but until now he’d had the advantage of satellite feedback to inform his navigational choices.
“I managed to get us to South Georgia,” he muttered. It would have been easy enough to miss such a small island in the midst of the riotous South Atlantic, but he’d been here hundreds of times.
“You did well today.” His cat popped up from nowhere, but
its appearance didn’t surprise Juan as much this time.
He plopped into the room’s only chair and sat in front of a desk crowded with nautical charts. “Why doesn’t Aura like me?” Juan winced and hastily added, “Never mind. Not an appropriate question.”
“She sees more than you think,” the cat replied enigmatically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Whatever you want it to.”
Juan tried a different angle. “Fine. Why did you tell me to pursue her?”
“Because she’s the right mate for you.”
“Not if she doesn’t agree with your assessment, she’s not. Besides, we’re miles away from signing on to anything permanent.”
A long, hissing growl filled Juan’s chest, stretching his mouth in unusual ways as it emerged. Rather than fight the sensation, he used a technique he’d learned today and embraced his bond animal’s display of emotion.
“Permanent hasn’t been part of your life plan,” the cat observed after it was done growling.
Excuses marched through Juan’s mind. Before he could sort through them and pick the best one, the cat was gone. Another trick he’d learned today was tapping into the spot in his magical center where the cat resided. Its absence left an obvious void.
Only obvious once I knew where to look.
At least his erection had subsided. Before it returned to torment him, he grabbed a pen and wrote Permanent hasn’t been part of my life plan on a scrap of paper.
Juan stared at it and drew a vertical line beneath the sentence. On the right side, he listed Arkady, Gavrill, navigation, improving navigational skillset, learning Antarctic and Arctic history. All those items were relatively permanent. They’d been part of his life forever. So had his friendship with Viktor.
He set the pen down and picked it back up. What was the point of this exercise if he weren’t honest with himself? With a great deal of reluctance, he added seduction schemes to his list. On the other side—the place to memorialize transient or nonexistent matters—he wrote girlfriend, children, family. During his trance-induced visit to Buenos Aires, his lack of communication with his blood kin had stung. They weren’t much for letter-writing, but he could have sent emails, whether they replied or not.
