by Ann Gimpel
“Thanks for your assistance,” Viktor spoke formally.
Leif probed with magic, concerned Viktor was furious Moira had inserted herself into a role he considered his. Relief rattled through him when he found only gratitude. And worry. No wonder Ketha had fallen in love with him. He was wise and kind and smart about picking his battles.
Everyone went back to the remains of their dinner. Leif finished the cold scraps scattered on his plate and watched Moira surreptitiously. She ate quickly and methodically but with the easy grace that marked everything she did.
He waited until she was almost done before catching her eye. “You’re quite skilled at that,” he said.
She glanced up. A startled expression crossed her face. Dark brows winging upward like bird’s wings suggested she’d been deep in thought. “At what?”
“Managing groups of people.”
She shrugged self-consciously. “I did it for a long time. It’s kind of second nature.”
“What did you do where you managed people?”
She set down her fork. “I’m a geological engineer, but it was people who hired me, not rocks, so I needed group management skills.”
“What do geological engineers do?”
A small, pleased smile formed, easing her worried look. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s asked me about myself. I managed chemicals and rocks and the Earth. Maybe managed is too strong a term. I explored their capacity to destroy things men wanted to maintain.”
“And instituted preventive measures?” He lifted one brow.
“Something like that. How about you? I understand you’ve been in the sea for maybe the last couple centuries, but how about before then?”
The dining room was emptying out. Zoe sent a meaningful glance skittering his way and winked at Moira. “How about if the three of us meet in the bar in half an hour to plot our B-2 strategy?”
“Perfect,” Leif said and sent a reassuring smile Zoe’s way. She nodded pleasantly and walked out of the room, arm in arm with Recco.
Leif glanced away. He should take the time to craft strategy, but he wanted to get to know the woman sitting across the table from him better. Much better. Admitting it to himself was a surprise. Before the Cataclysm, he’d assumed he’d find a mate someday. Many possibilities had graced his life—and his bed—but none felt quite right, and he’d angered more than a few women. After a dolphin Shifter screamed she didn’t give a crap that he was her alpha, he was still a self-centered, egotistical bastard, he’d kept to himself—until the disastrous bargain with the Witches.
After that, he’d wanted to hide in one of the wrecks littering the ocean floor and never resurface, but his duties as alpha meant he put his game face on and plowed forward. After the Cataclysm struck, survival was everything. Sometimes he rebuked himself for not encouraging his people to produce more young, but they’d have been the first to die in the face of a toxic ocean and scarce food.
“I’m not going to pry.” Moira tilted her head to one side as she regarded him. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
“It’s not that. Your question got me thinking—about a lot of things. The world I was born into was far different than this one. Even pre-Cataclysm.”
She offered an encouraging smile but didn’t say anything. Perhaps she understood leaving things open ended would loosen his tongue, make it easier to share details about a life he’d almost forgotten.
“Shifters tended to live in our own settlements toward the front end of the sixteen-hundreds. A few of us put down roots in towns, but the Church was gaining power, and they hated us. Labeled us abominations and didn’t miss a chance to fan the common folks’ hatred and fear.
“I lived along the coast northwest of Carlisle on the shores of the Irish Sea in a group comprised of both land and sea Shifters.” Sadness tugged at him as images from his youth marched across his mind.
Moira must have picked up on his mood because she said, “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. Those first two hundred fifty years were easy. Despite skirting churchmen and their irrational reaction to us, we were happy. It’s always been easier for you land Shifters. You can hide in a forest, shift, and no one is the wiser.”
“I see the problem,” she murmured.
“Compounding it was we’re prone to spontaneous shifts when we’re young, making it almost impossible to conceal what we are when we’re in the midst of a mad dash to the nearest water.” He blew out a tight breath. “The world grew smaller—and faster—with the advent of more efficient means of transportation and communication. By the middle of the nineteenth century, it was clear we needed stronger magic—and a whole lot more time in the sea.”
“Hence the deal with the Witches.” Compassion rimmed her expressive eyes.
“Exactly.” Leif was relieved he didn’t have to describe that catastrophe. She already knew plenty about it.
“Apologies in advance if this is indelicate, but how did sea Shifters earn a living?” Without waiting for him to reply, she continued, “We’ve always worked at some type of trade, if our histories are to be believed.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Remember the rings I gave Zoe and Aura for their weddings?” At her nod, he went on, “Men have gone to sea for hundreds of years, which means untold numbers of wrecks. The maps denoting them miss well over half.”
Her eyes kindled with understanding. “You scavenged for coins and gemstones.”
“We did. And sold them. Always more than enough to go around.”
“Clever.”
Her approval warmed him, but more talk would be pure indulgence. “We should probably head upstairs.”
Moira’s mouth thinned into a concerned expression. “This ley line thing will happen fast, huh?”
“Yes. It has to. If we wait, we won’t have enough power left to pull it off.” He stood and waited for her to get to her feet.
Latching a hand beneath his arm, she leaned close. “Thanks for trusting me.”
“Thanks for caring enough to ask.” He stacked their empty plates and silverware. She let go of him, picked up the glasses, and they walked everything to the kitchen, piling them in one of the sinks.
“We should wash them, but I don’t want to take the time right now,” she said.
“It’s quite low on the priority scale,” he agreed, not giving voice to his next thought, which was none of them might be left to worry about whether a few dishes remained unwashed.
He reached for her hand, and she laced her fingers with his. Touching her felt awkward, yet right in a way that baffled him. He didn’t try to dissect his contradictory emotions as they walked out of the empty galley and across the equally empty dining room.
“We need to launch this tonight, don’t we?” she asked, a catch in her voice betraying her anxiety.
“We do. As soon as we have a bombproof plan in place to insert those trackers into key ley line junctions.”
“Ketha and Karin are resourceful. Bet they’ve already got it nailed down.”
“Not without input from the rest of us.” Dismay ratcheted through him along with knowledge he shouldn’t have spent the last quarter hour chatting with Moira. His first duty was to his pod. Nothing had changed about that.
He drew his hand out of hers.
“Did I say something wrong?” She trained confused dark eyes on him.
“Not at all. It’s not you. It’s me. For a minute, I forgot myself.”
“I don’t understand.”
He took a deep breath, not wanting to slam the door on his developing feelings but also not seeing any alternative. Leif avoided touching her, Instead, he augured his gaze right into hers.
“My first duty is to what’s left of the sea Shifters. I’m their alpha, but you know that. I truly enjoyed our conversation, but—”
“You can stop right there.” She cut him off. “I get it. I’m not a sea Shifter.” Without waiting for him to reply, she spun on her
heel and raced up the stairs, leaving him staring after her with his mouth hanging open.
Desolation swept through him. Her rejection had the same sting as the female dolphin who’d catalogued his faults.
“Pull yourself together.” His dolphin’s voice thundered through his skull.
“I’m trying,” he told it and trudged up the stairs. As he walked, he cleared his mind of everything but the plan he’d developed. This was his scheme, and a damned dangerous one at that. He had to do everything in his power to make it work. If they failed, they were all dead men.
4
Traps Snapping Shut
Moira castigated herself for being a fool. For about half a second, she’d let herself believe Leif was interested in her, but he was just lonely like all the rest of them. Except maybe more so in his case since he’d presided over the deaths of thousands of his kin—and nearly died himself.
She pulled the tattered edges of her hurt feelings together, determined to move beyond her disappointment. All he’d done was talk with her. He hadn’t made promises and not delivered. Nor had he lured her to his bed, and then told her to get lost.
A major challenge stared them in the face. One that required her full and complete attention. Now wasn’t the time to be a prima donna and indulge in anything other than her very best efforts as a Team B member. She winced. She’d placed herself and Leif on the same team on purpose. Maybe she could swap places with Daide or Karin—
She shook her head. No. She’d leave things as they were. Leif’s distressed expression had been genuine when she’d told him to shut up. Moira winced again. His pod probably never offered him anything other than respect. She needed to adjust her attitude. Immediately.
She strode into the bar and crossed to a table where Zoe and Recco sat. “There you are.” Recco smiled and stood. “I was just leaving.” His smile faded. “Take good care of Zoe. Do not come back without her. Or better yet, include me on the team.”
Moira exchanged a pointed look with Zoe, who nodded. “Since it’s all right with your wife, I’m good with it,” she told Recco.
He scooted back into his seat. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. It’s better this way. If we have problems, I won’t be the one explaining what went wrong to you.”
“That was blunt,” Zoe muttered.
“This whole endeavor is blunt,” Moira countered and slid into a chair next to Zoe. “I’d love more to drink, but it’s not a good idea.”
“Same conclusion we came to,” Zoe said.
“Where’s Leif?” Recco asked.
Moira scanned the doorway. “Right there.” Despite her resolution to be strong, her heart fluttered oddly at the sight of the sea Shifter alpha. Maybe it wasn’t anything beyond sexual heat, but whatever it was, she had it bad.
He nodded briskly and strode across the room to their table but didn’t sit. “Have Karin and Ketha announced their approach?”
“Not yet,” Zoe replied.
Moira scanned the bar, locating Karin, Daide, and Ketha on its far side. Viktor wasn’t around, which meant he was probably on the bridge making certain Arkady didn’t stumble as she sailed through the moon dark waters of the central Pacific.
“I’m going to check in with them, and then I’ll be right back,” Leif said.
Zoe waited until he left and then placed her mouth near Moira’s ear. “He’s very nice.”
“Not going there.” Moira shook her head.
“Why not?” Zoe persisted. “I saw the two of you talking. Looked mighty cozy to me.”
“Don’t mind my wife.” Recco bent his dark head closer to theirs. “She’s drowning in marital bliss and wants to share the joy.”
Zoe snorted and muttered, “Spoken like a man with a perpetual hard-on,” in Gaelic.
Moira chortled and tried not to wish for her own perpetually erect cock, standing by to service her.
“What’d you say?” Recco demanded.
“Women’s secrets,” Zoe replied.
“It was very complimentary to your prowess in bed,” Moira said, hoping they could change the subject before Leif returned. The last thing she wanted to bat around with a man she was salivating over was sex talk.
As if he’d tuned in to her thoughts about him returning, Leif strode back across the bar. “I’m sending one of the whales with them,” he said without preamble. “I was concerned about too many Shifters ruining the stealth factor, but they can work so much faster with three of them, it makes sense to do it that way.”
“What will they be using for magical markers?” Recco asked, adding, “Sorry if it’s a stupid question all of you know the answer to, but I like to understand how things work.”
“He’s coming with us,” Zoe explained to Leif.
“All right. I’d assigned a dolphin to the first B team and another to this one as well. I’ll tell him we have a fourth.”
Moira read between the lines. “I’m guessing Ketha and Karin ran into some problems choreographing how they’d manage their role.”
“Their timing was more of an issue than anything. With three, one can plant markers as soon as the other two have eroded the filaments a little more. To answer your question”—he directed his words Recco’s way—“when the markers are disturbed, it will set up an oscillation through the ley lines. Since we’ll be monitoring them, we’ll know and snap up our thief red-handed.”
“Wonder where that expression came from?” Recco mused.
“Och, sure and it came from old Scotland where the guilty party still had blood on his hands from murdering or poaching game.” Zoe smiled brightly at her husband.
A blast of magic sparkled through the bar from the far side of the room. “They left already?” Moira had a tough time choking out the words.
“Yes.” Leif’s reply was terse. “Sooner the better. The first B Team is on duty until nine tomorrow morning. We need to get some rest between now and then.”
“Where will we meet?” Zoe asked.
Leif scrunched his brow in thought. “Sorry to intrude on your newlywed bliss, but we should all bunk in the same spot. In case the first team is called to respond, and we’re needed to back them up.”
“Or to ride herd on whomever we catch,” Moira muttered.
“By that token, all Shifters should remain close. Good thinking on your part.” Leif offered an approving nod.
The flutter from before raced through Moira again. She put a lid on her longing before anyone picked up on it. He may have enjoyed talking with her, but he had no interest in anything further. He’d made that abundantly clear.
“Either this room or one of the dining rooms would do,” Recco said.
“I vote for the bar,” Zoe spoke up. “’Tis a wee bit more comfortable.”
“I’ll get us blankets and pillows,” Recco said, “unless you need me.” He quirked a brow at Leif.
“No. Go on. I’ll let everyone know we’re staying here.” Leif walked to the front of the bar. “All Shifters will remain here until our mission is complete. Make yourselves comfortable but stand ready to react when called upon.” He didn’t raise his voice, but every head in the room swiveled to stare at him.
“Ted and I will remain here with you,” Boris said.
“Us too,” Sasha, another Arctowski refugee, spoke up. Bald and with a thick Russian accent, he’d been part of a Soviet scientific team stationed at the Polish research base.
Moira assumed the us referred to Diana and Nora, the women they’d rescued from Arctowski.
“If they’re staying, so are we,” the McMurdo zoologist said.
“Yeah, can’t see hiding out in my cabin and missing all the action,” one of the women from McMurdo chimed in.
Moira considered telling the humans this wasn’t their war, that they’d only get in the way, but they wore such earnest expressions she didn’t have the heart to dismiss them. Besides, Shifters had always held somewhat of a patronizing attitude toward humans, and she’d just experienced u
p close and personal what being dismissed felt like.
Yeah. Not very fucking good.
She turned back to Zoe. “Are you ready for this?”
The coyote Shifter shrugged. “Nay, but what choice do we have? If we do nothing, our power will gutter and die like a candle suffocated by its own fat.”
“Not a very appetizing image.” Moira unclenched her jaw. None of this was pleasant. “The worst part for me is even if we come out on top, the breaks between onslaughts are brief.”
“Aye. True enough. ’Tis grateful I’ve been to Recco. He has a practical side, and it keeps me from drowning in a flood of doom-and-gloom scenarios.”
Moira lowered her voice. “I have no idea what’s wrong with me. I spent twenty years traveling from one nasty hellhole to another. And that was before I got stuck in Ushuaia. If not for the Vampires, my time there would have been almost enjoyable—in comparison with a lot of places I’ve worked.”
Zoe patted her arm, her hazel eyes softening with compassion. “’Tis been a long haul. Sure and it never occurred to me I’d never see my home in Ireland again. Had I known afore I left, I may have turned down that visiting professorship in Wyoming.”
“None of us knew.” Moira drew her brows together, thinking. “Maybe that’s the hardest part. The not knowing, and the living on the edge of a precipice.” She took a breath. “No matter how hideous my jobsites were, I knew I’d leave and go home to lick my wounds before I volunteered for one more Third World assignment.”
“Where was home?” Zoe asked. “Not sure I ever knew.”
“You didn’t,” Moira replied. “Nor did anyone else. I didn’t see any percentage in talking about the past after it became painfully clear we were trapped at the south end of Argentina. It’s kind of like not thinking about food when you’re starving.”
“Aye, except you can’t help it. Do you mean to tell me you never dreamed about potatoes swimming in butter or a nice, thick piece of meat when we were living on rats and kale in Ushuaia?”
“Of course, but I did my damnedest to redirect myself.” Moira rolled her shoulders back, aware of tension sitting between them like an unwelcome block of granite. “You’d asked about home. I have a house east of Seattle, on the northern edge of Lake Washington. I was never there much, but it was a special place. Other Shifters lived nearby.”
