The Calling

by Ashley Lynn Willis

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  The Calling

  by

  Ashley Lynn Willis

  The Calling

  Copyright © 2011 by Ashley Lynn Willis

  First Smashwords Edition: October 2011

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  "Sea" by Jennifer Comeaux

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Killing Abel

  Excerpt from Love Potions by Michelle McCleod

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  To my husband who helped me carve out time to write even if that meant making sacrifices of his own. You are my best friend, my most enthusiastic cheerleader, and the hottest man on the planet.

  To my two beautiful children for making me laugh every day and for bringing untold joy to my life.

  To my brilliant critique partners, Suz, Kathryn, Melisa, and Amy. Without your insight, Justin would have been a cold-blooded killer, and Mandy would have been the whiniest heroine known to romance. I shudder at how differently this book would have turned out without your help.

  To Karen of Red Adept Reviews for talking me into writing that last playful love scene, and to my brilliant editor Lynn O’Dell of Red Adept for making sure my participles didn’t dangle.

  And last, to my readers for taking a chance on me. I loved every minute of writing this story, and I hope that comes through as you immerse yourself into the world of Mandy and Justin.

  Sea

  You washed upon my shore

  Your waves crashing around me

  Your green hue sparkling in the sunlight

  You engulfed me with your powerful rush

  Then calmed me with your stillness

  As you lingered all around me

  You gently reminded me

  With the ebb and flow of your tide

  You would never be far from me

  The cool breeze flowing along with you

  Ran its fingers through my hair

  And sent shivers down my spine

  I couldn't shake your essence

  As each drop you left on my skin

  Was a reminder of you

  I was afraid to venture in too deep

  And lose myself

  In your vast presence

  But you washed away all my fears

  With your tender persistence

  And your soft embrace

  So I let you take hold of me

  Let you wash over me

  Let myself drown in your love

  —Jennifer Comeaux

  Chapter 1

  Justin dangled his feet out of the door of the hovering helicopter and prepared for a free-fall deployment. The air above his head pounded to the rhythmic beat of the rotary blades, the thunder of it filling his ears. Beneath him, the waves churned white from the force of a summer squall, the swells striking at one another, their crests exploding with spray.

  A wave pummeled the port side of a thirty-foot sailboat, seizing the vessel in its uncompromising grip and swaying it viciously. An hour ago, the vessel’s emergency beacon had activated, sending a distress signal to the Coast Guard’s Rescue Coordination Center. Since the boat hadn’t sunk, the beacon activated when it rolled. Based on the sheared mast dragging against the bow, the vessel had submerged and righted itself more than once.

  The helicopter pilot, Lieutenant Dale, spoke through the intercom, “I don’t want you on that boat with the mast unsecured.”

  Justin’s jaw clamped tighter than a vise as he readjusted his intercom. He was itchy as hell to get inside that cabin. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Foster was almost killed by a loose mast last year.”

  “I’m twice as capable as Foster, and you know it.”

  “Cocky bastard,” Dale grumbled, but a hint of amusement tinged his voice.

  A swell plowed over the boat, sweeping across the deck before slipping back to the boiling ocean. The sea had been churning restlessly for hours, savagely beating any ships that dared cross the colliding weather systems. Large commercial vessels bore the brunt with shivering hulls and seasick crews. The smaller boats, carrying families on day trips or weekend excursions, risked disappearing as if they’d never existed, resting in the mud at the ocean bottom, their occupants still inside. As he watched the sailboat below him, he wondered how long he had until the ocean’s cruel fingers claimed it.

  Ty, the flight mechanic, kneeled behind Justin. “Air station just radioed in. There’s a father and son on the boat.”

  “How old’s the son?” Justin asked.

  “School-aged. That’s all the info they had.”

  Justin nodded. “I’m going in.” He’d never left a kid behind, and he wasn’t starting today.

  Dale lowered the helicopter until it hovered fifteen feet above the waves. “You got ten minutes. And only because there’s a child on board. After that, I’m pulling you out.”

  “That’ll do,” Justin said.

  “Keep your eye on that mast,” Ty reminded him over the droning of the chopper.

  Justin nodded as he pulled off his helmet, cutting off his communication with the pilot. “Put me in upswell.”

  Ty relayed the information to Lieutenant Dale, and the pilot positioned the helicopter so that the waves would push him toward the boat.

  “Swimmer’s at the door, sir,” Ty said to Dale.

  Ty nudged Justin’s shoulder while wrapping his hand around his microphone. As he lowered his mouth next to Justin’s ear, his lips formed a tight slash. “I brought my camera, in case you decide to do anything freaky.”

  Justin peered down into the ocean, then back at his former best friend. “You know how easy it’d be to throw you over right now?”

  “You’d just have to fish me out.”

  “True. But it’d sure be fun to watch you pitch face-first into a twenty-foot wave. Plus, it’d ruin your camera.”

  “You two lovers done quarreling?” Dale yelled.

  Ty pinned Justin with a knowing gaze. “Don’t do anything bizarre, and my camera will stay tucked in my pocket.”

  “Asshole,” Justin grumbled. Focus. Ty was
just messing with his head. As long as he got the civilians out safely, who cared if Ty filmed him?

  Ty unwrapped his hand from around his microphone. “Checking swimmer. Swimmer ready?”

  Justin gave the thumbs up signal. “Here’s to a good night’s sleep,” he murmured under his breath, while securing his goggles and snorkel. His heart thundered, and his muscles tensed as he waited for the wave below to crest. The mighty swell soared upward, reaching for his fins, and he jumped. Nothing but air, and then the cool waters of the Gulf of Mexico swallowed him whole.

  He popped to the surface and held his hand high for Ty to see. The water tossed and pulled his body, washing over him again and again in a rhythm billions of years old. His rapidly beating heart calmed. Even in mountainous waves and pounding rain, he felt at home in the ocean, his muscles relaxing with the water’s caress.

  Justin gained his bearings as the swell beneath him rose, giving him a perfect view of the surrounding seas and sky. To his right, the sailboat lurched; to his left, the helicopter increased altitude.

  He swam toward the boat reeling in the waves, never taking his eyes off the crippled vessel. A wave crashed against the port side, listing the boat to starboard, the onslaught tilting it further and further into the rough ocean. Like a mighty whale hungry for breath, the bulbous keel broke the surface, licking at the wind and rain.

  Though he charged forward, gaining on the ship, his stroke faltered as he prepared to watch the boat roll, maybe for the last time before sinking beneath the ocean. Quickly, the waves parted, and the churning of the water abated long enough for the keel to submerge and the boat to right itself. With a surge of relief, he swam faster, the pummeling sea driving him onward.

  He charged up the crest of a swell, the water breaking over his head, and popped out the wave’s backside. When a wave trough reached its lowest point, he pushed himself to the side of the boat. As soon as the wave crested, he grabbed the railing and hoisted himself aboard. Inch by inch, he trudged toward the secured hatch, sure that if anyone were alive, they’d be hunkered down inside the cabin.

  With one eye on the splintered mast, he unlatched the door and descended the steps into the living quarters. A trembling wide-eyed boy, about nine, stood by the galley. An inch of water sloshed at the boy’s feet, pitching back and forth to the sway of the boat. His blond hair was soaked, and the wet T-shirt under his life vest clung to his small frame.

  Justin breathed a sigh of relief that the kid was okay. “I’m with the Coast Guard, son.” He scanned the room and spotted a man lying on the floor. He appeared to be unconscious, with blood oozing from a gash on his forehead.

  “Your dad?” Justin asked.

  “Yes, sir,” the boy said in a shaky voice.

  Justin bit down on the fury threatening to choke him. What kind of father would risk their child’s life in weather like this? He strode to the man’s side and probed his neck for a heartbeat. “What’s his name?”

  “Adam.”

  The rocking of the boat made finding a pulse impossible. As he’d been trained to do, he lifted the man’s life vest, formed a fist, and rubbed the father’s sternum with his knuckles. If he was alive, the pain would snap him awake.

  The man groaned, though his eyes didn’t open.

  He glanced at the son. “Is it just the two of you?” The boy nodded stiffly. Justin tightened down the man’s life vest. “I’m gonna get you and your dad out of here, but I need you to do everything I tell you. Okay?”

  The boy swallowed hard and nodded again.

  “What’s your name, son?”

  “Caleb.”

  Justin forced a smile and tilted his head toward the hatch. “Let’s climb on deck.”

  Before the kid could take a step, the boat dropped like a jumbo jet in turbulence. Justin’s stomach lurched. Oh, hell. They’d hit the bottom of a monstrous trough, and that meant only one thing—a mountain of a wave was bearing down on them.

  Justin pointed to the galley table secured to the floor with thick bolts. “Caleb, grab the pedestal. Now!”

  The boy obeyed, scrambling under the kitchen table. Justin wrapped an arm around the father’s waist, and with his adrenaline pumping, he dragged the man toward Caleb. Before he could dive under the table and secure himself and Adam, the wave hit.

  Justin grabbed the mast that spanned from floor to ceiling. He pressed Adam’s body against the beam, his arms encircling the man and clasping the pole. The boat leaned hard, but he managed to stay steady.

  The wave eased up. Not so bad, Justin thought. Then the next wave hit. The boat tilted farther and farther. Justin’s muscles strained against the force of gravity and the unconscious man’s weight. Just when he was sure his muscles would rip from one more second of exertion, the sailboat flipped.

  Water splashed against the ceiling. Equipment, cups, and cooking utensils bashed into the cabinets and walls. The clattering of wood on wood and pinging of metal on metal filled the small space. Trapped upside down, Justin gritted his teeth.

  He concentrated on holding Adam, while his tendons struggled against a force so great he waited for them to snap one by one. His breaths came hard and fast. He looked up and saw the boy, eyes squeezed tightly closed, clutching the pedestal with white knuckles. The kid’s face was blanched, and beads of sweat pooled in the creases of his forehead. Christ, no kid should have wrinkles that deep.

  Screw Ty and his camera. It was time to end this.

  His body began to hum with energy, a pulsing, throbbing extension of himself that permeated the vessel. As the force around him grew, Justin closed his eyes and filled his mind with an image of still, glassy water. He took deep, measured breaths and fully concentrated, the boy, the pain, the boat, all disappearing. Only a vast expanse of motionless sea spread out before him.

  From his inner core, tendrils of energy traveled through the hull toward the rolling ocean. Like fingers, the power caressed the sea, stroking it, coaxing it to calm. The thrashing waves pushed on his force, trying to break his hold on the water, but he held firm, refusing to be subjugated.

  He forced his will on the swells. The water obeyed.

  The vessel shuddered. The keel slammed into his energy and submerged beneath the ocean. With a heavy moan, the sailboat righted itself. His consciousness suspended, Justin was blind to what was happening in the cabin. His mind, his senses, his being, belonged to the sea.

  After the last swell tested his authority, and the ocean around the boat completely stilled, he opened his eyes. The boy’s raspy breathing filled the cabin.

  “Head out, son.”

  The boy nodded, scurried out from under the table, and clambered up the steps to the deck. Justin followed, dragging the unconscious man to the ladder. He slung Adam onto his back, held the man’s arms around his neck with one hand, and climbed with the other.

  His breaths came in labored gasps by the time he reached the top of the ladder. When he hauled himself onto the deck, the real horror of the scene he’d created surrounded him. Waves crashed all around them, yet the sailboat sat in a still island of calm water extending in a twenty-foot radius. It looked like a damn miracle of God, and he’d done it, in broad daylight, with three crewmembers staring down on him.

  Time to cut the show.

  He called back his energy, slowly, feeling the rise and fall of the waves as they crept closer. Then, like ripping off a Band-Aid, he let the full storm bear down on them. It was all or nothing with his power, no in-between.

  “Off the boat, kid!” he yelled over the roar of the wind.

  A twenty-foot wave rocked the boat, pitching it violently from side to side. The kid stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Trust me. The water’s better than this place. We’re coming in after you.”

  Caleb tightened the straps on his life vest, then nodded. Like a brave soldier, he hoisted himself over the railing and plunged into the sea.

  Justin stepped toward the railing to follow when a massive wave cra
shed against the port side. The mast barreled toward him, the long timber flying through the air. The full force of the beam slammed him in the gut. The air whooshed from his lungs. A rib cracked. His insides burned like a gasoline-fueled inferno.

  He landed on the deck with Adam beneath him. Holy Hell! He couldn’t breathe.

  Justin squeezed his eyes shut. Breathe, damn it. A searing pain clenched his gut. Before full panic could set in, a powerful wave swept over him, twisting and thrashing his limbs. The surge forced him and the other man over the railing and into the churning sea.

  Immediately, Justin calmed while surfacing, the soothing force of the ocean easing the inferno in his chest. His lungs expanded, filling with air, and though his ribs still ached, the helplessness he’d felt on the boat disappeared.

  With his body under control again, he dove under a wave. When he popped out the backside, he spotted the boy and his father floating to his left. Caleb had one arm wrapped around his dad, keeping the man’s head above the waves.

  Ignoring the remnants of pain stabbing at his lungs, Justin swam toward them. Ty was already lowering the bucket into the water ten feet away.

  “Can you load yourself?” Justin asked Caleb, as he crossed one arm over Adam’s shoulder and down his chest.

  The boy clutched his father tighter. “What about my dad?”

  “I’ve got him, son. Get to the bucket.”

  Caleb let go, and a wave slapped him in the face. He gasped for breath.

  Justin reached out with his free arm and steadied the boy. “If I have to load you, your father could take on a lungful of water,” he yelled over the thunder of the sea and the beating blades of the helicopter. Seeming to understand, the boy swam toward the rescue basket.