by Patty Taylor
“No. You still don’t understand.” Beth stood, her voice strained. She frowned. “The gift from one witch to another must be personal. It must be something of value that the giver normally wouldn’t part with.”
“Mo creach!” He straightened, knocking the chair backward. “I knew it. This entire Halldora plan the Undine planted in yer head keeps gettin’ worse. It’s leavin’ a bloody rotten taste in me mouth.”
Oblivious to his warning, Beth paced in front of him and stared into space. She clutched the shiny gem dangling in front of her neck. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to give her. I must think of something.”
Quinn opened his mouth to ask about the necklace. Something gnawed at his stomach to keep his mouth shut. Unnerved by the growing silence and her sudden reaction, he headed for the door.
“Wait. You need rest.” Beth stopped pacing, her cheeks blushed red, and she lowered her head toward the floor. “I thought . . .”
“Dinna fret, lass. I’ll sleep under the stars tonight. I need plenty of fresh air. I’m afraid if I stay here, neither one of us will get any rest.” Quinn held her in his arms, her intoxicating scent filling his head. He clamped his mouth over her warm lips. Her budding nipples forced through the flimsy shirt fabric and hardened against his bare chest.
“Captin’” McGregor’s voice summoned him from above.
“Bloody Hell.” Quinn took a step back from Beth, holding her at arm’s length. “I promise ye, lass. Come tomorrow, there will be no more interruptions once we reach land.”
Quinn leaned over to kiss Beth’s forehead. He hated leaving her standing alone in the middle of the floor with her arms wrapped around herself. Her nearness made his head spin. He hurried and closed the cabin door behind himself and raced up the steps.
“McGregor,” he bellowed, “has anyone ever told ye, man, ye have rotten timin’? What’s so bloody damn important now?”
“I canna wake the men, and Kalista’s still missin’, Captin’.”
Chapter 11
Beth woke, bolting upright. Sharp pains darted across her forehead. She sat, caressing her temples. Something’s terribly wrong.
Her vision blurred, she blinked and rubbed her eyes, trying to focus as she glanced around the confines of the cabin for her winged companion. She hadn’t seen the dragon since Kalista glided toward the mountains with the shiny object she accepted from the Undine. Chills raced down her spine. She turned her head and listened. Everything was too quiet. The usual sounds of men talking or walking on deck were gone. Like a cradle, the ship rocked side from side, the waves splashing against the sides. Seagulls screeched nearby.
Beth hurried and threw her legs over the side of the bunk, eager to find Quinn. Giddy-heady, everything was spinning around as her feet hit the cold wooden planks. Nauseated, her stomach was churning, so she grabbed the bunk for support. A sour taste filled her mouth.
The damn tea.
She should have realized someone must have put a tonic in her drink last night, since the tea had an unusual spicy odor. With everything else going on, the incriminating smell was the least of her problems.
But why would Quinn or McGregor want to drug my drink other than to make sure I got a good night’s sleep? She thought of another way Quinn could have ensured that.
Taking a few deep breaths to clear her head, she whipped her shorts up around her waist and groaned while grabbing a soft wrap from the back of the chair. She draped it around her shoulders before heading up on deck to find the men.
Someone from behind wrapped a hairy arm around her neck. Beth squealed. A grimy hand rapidly slapped over her mouth, quieting her. “Ye keep yer bloody mouth shut and do as I say, and I promise ye’ll not get hurt any worse than need be.”
She flinched from the tone of his curt voice. Masked by a pungent fishy odor, the abductor’s stench filled her head, burning her nostrils. Her body tensed. Beth’s hands became clammy clenching his arm, and her heart hammered against her chest. She suddenly recognized the scent coming from her attacker. The odor was identical to the evil reek that came from the pair of pants she threw on the deck yesterday.
Finley.
The young deserter pushed at the middle of her back, edging her up the narrow stairway. Beth’s eyes widened in fear when she spotted the majority of the crew’s bodies sprawled unconscious on the deck. Finley lowered his hand from her mouth and turned her around to face him. With a smirk on his face, his eyes flashed, glowing red. “I tried tellin’ the Captin’ and the others I would make ye mine. But they didna believe me.”
She stepped backward, struggling to twist her arms from his tight grasp.
“Stop yer squirmin’. I know how to save ye from becomin’ a Maras.”
Beth swallowed, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. Her hands trembling, she tried to calm herself. As steadily as she could, she straightened and clenched her fists by her sides. Her eyes meeting his, she prayed her body didn’t waiver as she questioned him. “Why should I believe you, Finley? What reason do you possibly have to want to help me? You don’t even know anything about me.”
“I know ye’re a witch with a she-wolf inside ye just waitin’ to get out. That’s reason enough for any fool to claim ye for himself. With yer powers and my recent findings about . . .”
Thunderous voices bellowed on shore. Finley stopped, distracted by the men’s shouting. A wicked smile spread across his face, exposing his sharp canines. “I see my plan is already startin’ to work. Hurry now. We must get to shore.”
“Just a minute. I’m not going anywhere with you until I know the crew are all right.” Taking a quick glance around the deck, there were no signs of Quinn, McGregor, or Gunther. Beth spied an older man lying facedown in a puddle of blood. She gasped. Her hand went flying to her mouth.
Finley gripped her arm, his fingers digging into her skin. His gaze followed hers and landed on the old crewmate. He chuckled. “Ye canna help him now. The others will wake soon enough.”
“Wait.” Beth struggled, planting her feet firmly to the deck. “Where are Quinn and the others? What have you done with them?”
“I snuck on board last evenin’ when that sea creature had everyone’s attention. I couldna have planned it any better meself. I laced the drinks with a sleepin’ tonic.” He shoved his knee behind her leg, making her stumble forward. “The other three are already on land. Let’s just say, they’re waitin’ for ye. I can hardly wait to see them squirm and the look on their faces while they’re forced to watch while I make ye mine.”
“Why would you want to hurt them, Finley? From what I’ve heard, Quinn’s done nothing but try to help you.” Beth wrestled her arm loose from his grip. She stood facing him, catching the redness in his eyes fade to a normal brown color and quickly return to bright red. “You can fight this, Finley. There’s still good inside you. I see it in your eyes. Please, Finley. Try.”
Finley arched his head back and growled. Sharp claws sprouted from his fingers.
Beth flinched, took a step back, and trembled. This is what I have to look forward to. It not only scared the hell out of her, but she was starting to get pissed off. If she didn’t have a choice in the matter of changing into a wolf, she’d be damned if this kid was going to lay his hands on her and claim her for his own. There had to be some way to knock some sense in his head. If she could only figure out a way to distract him, maybe she could catch him off guard. She had an idea, and, by the Goddess, she prayed it work.
With every bit of strength, she gritted her teeth while trying to make herself relax. If she was going to find Quinn and help the others, she must concentrate and force her attention away from the rest of the crews’ unconscious bodies.
Beth squeezed Finley’s clawed hand inside her own and smiled. She swallowed the warm bile rising in her throat as she leaned her body next to him a
nd kissed his hairy neck. “What a bloody fool I’ve been, Finley. You were right after all. Why should I have to choose between becoming a Maras and being stuck here on board with the rest of these wolves when I can have a choice? I’ve decided to go away with you.”
Finley studied her face and smiled. His nose puckered. He sniffed her hands, then her face and neck, while his other clawed paw ran down the back of her hair. “I promise ye, Beth. Ye willna regret yer decision. I will break the Maras curse first before I claim ye for my own mate, just as soon as we get rid of the others.”
Beth grinned and forced a laugh, praying his wolf didn’t pick up on her true feelings. She swallowed the lump wedged in her throat. His grisly touch made her skin crawl. “What are you planning on doing to them?”
“Come.” Finley seized her hand and led her close beside him. A growl rumbled from deep in his chest. “Ye’ll find out soon enough. But first, we need to play a wee game of cat and mouse. And you, my love, will be the bait that sets the trap.”
Beth shivered, rubbing her hands vigorously up and down her bare arms after Finley seized her from the icy water onto shore. The she-wolf inside must have protected her from the frigid temperatures, since her body warmth rapidly returned to normal. She raked her fingers through her hair, and within minutes, it was dry, like a wet dog shaking water from itself.
The men’s voices grew louder, muffling the sounds of bristling leaves and branches crunching beneath their feet, as they shuffled through the dense forest.
Like the flashing lights twirling on top of an emergency vehicle, a warning alarm went off in her head, filling her with fear. These men were hunters.
Beth struggled to keep up as Finley picked up his pace. The veins in her neck throbbed. The whimpering cries of a wolf caused tight knots in her stomach.
By the Goddess, please don’t let that be Quinn.
“I feel your blood racing through your veins. You learn fast. It willna be much longer now.” Finley must have mistaken her racing pulse as a sign of excitement. His sharp nails cut into her wrist.
Blood ran down her hand, leaving a spotted trail behind them. Her heart throbbing, her chest felt like it would explode. Her forehead beaded with water. Quinn was right after all. You’re out of your mind. You’re purposely leading these men to kill Quinn and the others.
A lone wolf howled close by. Another chimed in. Her neck grew taut, and hot tingling sensations ran down the center of her back, making her arms and legs ached.
“Not yet, my love. We’re almost there.” Finley tugged her, dragging behind. Her feet slid over moss-covered rocks and wet leaves.
Finley wound his way through a thicket of bushes and stopped short in front of two towering pine trees. He held out his arm to prevent her from going any further.
They stood inches away from a deadly trap.
A gray-haired wolf, held prisoner, was tethered between the two trees with a heavy chain wrapped tightly around his neck. Beth bit her lip to keep from screaming. One back leg appeared to be broken, sprawled helplessly on the ground. Sharp pains stabbed at Beth’s heart. By the Goddess. It’s McGregor.
She had to help him. Beth wrenched her wrist from Finley’s tight grasp.
“Wait,” Finley growled, and pointed to the crumpled leaves piled on the ground. He stooped to pick up a stick and poked it at the ground. Leaves and brush tumbled into a deep hole. Beth spotted sharp wooden stakes sticking up in the air. “Take one step, and it will be yer last.”
“What have you done to Quinn and Gunther?” Beth glanced uneasily over her shoulder. The hunters’ footsteps came closer. Beth’s heart hammered against her chest. A steep rocky cliff lay directly behind the trees. Even if she did go around from behind, there was barely enough squeezing room to get to McGregor.
“Dinna fret about yer two big friends. I made sure they had an extra dose of the potion so I could get them here without any trouble. They should come ’round soon and start lookin’ for ye.”
A striking black wolf lunged from the nearby bushes and landed in front of them. Quinn.
Quinn towered over Finley. Growling with lips drawn back, saliva dripped off the wolf’s sharp canines.
McGregor whined in pain. A hunter had come from behind and thrown a spear that pierced his other back leg. “Get behind me, lass, until we get rid of these beasts.”
Finley hunched low to the ground, the hairs bristling around his neck. Quinn circled around Finley and charged, knocking Finley to the ground. His teeth ripping fiercely into the side of Finley’s neck.
Two more hunters ran forward, shouting, “Get back, all of ye.”
A bloodcurdling howl towered overhead. The hunters fell to their knees. A wolf the size of a giant polar bear leapt from the top of the rocky cliff. Like a prehistoric beast, the goliath wolf towered over the men.
Gunther.
Quinn and Finley wrestled on the ground. Finley whimpered in pain but struggled to his feet. A hunter stood and clutched a spear, aiming it at McGregor.
Beth screamed, “No!”
Gunther shoved Beth out of the way and leapt in front of the spear aimed for McGregor.
Quinn sunk his teeth into the back of Finley’s neck and tossed his body in the air. Finley fell to the ground and tumbled into the deep hole. His agonizing screams echoed through the forest.
The third hunter raised his weapon and aimed for Quinn.
Beth’s blood raged through her veins. Something deep within her unleashed its fury, and she raised her head to the air and howled. She lunged and knocked the spear out of the hunter’s hand. Her body straddled above the hunter, and she heard the other two men shriek. Beth turned her head and watched them run. The sight of Gunther must have frightened them. She lowered her gaze to the man below, spotting the fear in his widened eyes and a reflection of a huge white wolf.
By the Goddess, the she-wolf must have surfaced to protect Quinn.
Beth crept back from the hunter, lowering her head to the ground and growled. The man stumbled, getting to his feet before grabbing his spear and aiming it at her head. Quinn leapt, knocking the weapon from the hunter’s hand. The man opened his mouth, his face turning pale. He turned and raced in the same direction the other two had fled.
Beth’s limbs trembled. Her mind spinning, her emotions whirled out of control. Quinn’s arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. She looked up into his face and saw he was human again. Heat surged through her neck. She glanced down and saw her bare legs. She tucked her legs to her chest and enveloped her arms around them, covering her naked breasts.
“Are ye all right, lass?” Quinn touched her face, his amber eyes melting back to the rich chocolate brown.
McGregor and Gunther groaned in pain. They’d been wounded and needed help. Quinn helped her get to her feet, and with one leap sprinted across the open pit. Beth grabbed her tattered clothing and draped it across herself the best she could. Without thinking, she sprinted over the trap, and caught site of spears sticking through Finley’s dangling body. She shuddered.
Finley was dead.
Gunther lay on his side in an increasing puddle of blood. A wooden stake was sticking out of the center of his chest. McGregor was sitting up, fussing at the gentle giant, attempting to tend to the gushing wound. A second broken spear laid by his side. “Ye bloody damn fool. Ye knew that spear was meant for me. I’m an old man. It was my time to die, not yers.”
Beth dropped to her knees and examined the nasty wound. The stake was deep and close to his heart. Gunther gripped her hand and smiled. He looked at Quinn and shut his eyes.
Quinn nodded and raced off, returning with Gunther’s clothes. He reached inside the jacket pocket and removed a giant sparkling crystal. Similar to the one Quinn had shown her in his cabin.
Gunther’s fingers shook, taking the gem from Quinn.
He placed it inside Beth’s hand and closed her fingers around the cold stone. Barely above a whisper, the gentle giant muttered the word, “Gift.”
“I can’t accept this.” Beth sat shaking her head no, cradling his head in her lap, tears streaming down her face.
“Ye must.” Quinn gripped Gunther’s shoulder. “It’s his last wish. He wants you to have it.”
Gunther smiled, squeezed Beth’s other hand, and nodded his head. “Gift . . . cave.”
Beth leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, my friend.”
Gunther’s head slumped to the side, and his eyes closed for the last time.
Like water bursting through a broken damn, a rush of emotions washed over Beth. She hugged Gunther’s head to her chest and wept.
Chapter 12
Beth knelt and placed a gathered bouquet, filled with colorful goldenrod and toadflax wild flowers mixed with foxgloves and variegated ferns, on top of Gunther’s fresh grave. Their heads bowed, the men stood between Gunther’s and Finley’s final resting places. Quinn steadied McGregor by holding his arm. They’d picked a spot on the outskirts of the forest where the shade would shelter their graves from the hottest time of day, and the breathtaking heather spread wild through the meadows. Due to his prior wishes, the older deceased crewmember, Dudley, would be laid to rest at sea, once they returned to the Sea Wolf.
“Because of me, three good men are dead.” Beth rose, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.
