by Ann Gimpel
“What about his coyote?”
“The dragon’s magic is superior to ours. It did something to lull the coyote into believing it.”
“Could the dragon have hurt Daide’s bondmate?” Recco persisted.
“No, but I know that coyote. Regardless of the outcome, it will blame itself for years for falling under the dragon’s enchantment.”
Recco wanted to run to Daide, shout the truth at him, and shake him into believing it, but the women’s chanting had escalated in volume until the serpent’s head was only about a foot below the level of the rail. Judging from the part of its body above the water, it must be better than thirty feet long. Recco sucked air through his teeth, fascinated and repelled at the same time. To have a specimen like this to observe would be any zoologist’s dream.
Magic slithered around him, the air alive and electric with it. The sea dragon breathed power in as fast as the women produced it. It puffed steam between breaths. Realization kicked him in the guts. The dragon was becoming stronger, feeding itself from the women’s magic.
Did they know?
Could they stop their spell, or had it developed a life of its own, nurtured by connivery on the part of the dragon?
Daide still had the rifle trained on the small boat. Juan’s gaze darted from the women to the sea dragon, his expression drawn and worried. Recco focused his magic into what he hoped was a private message for Juan. “Amigo. We have to intervene.”
“Are you sure?” Juan stared at him.
“Hell no, but this isn’t right. The dragon’s running this show. Don’t ask how I know. I just do.”
“Mmph. My cat agrees.”
“Does it have any suggestions for how to proceed?”
Juan edged toward Recco, trading telepathy for speech. “Pull all the power you can. Once it’s within you, balanced, do the best you can to ward yourself. Then we get between the dragon and the women. It won’t be pleasant, but it’s the only way to sever the magic’s flow.”
Recco cut his gaze to Daide. “Can he help us?”
Juan shook his head. “No. The dragon deceived him. If he thinks we’re going to hurt it, he’s as likely to blow us to hell as see reason. On my count of three, amigo, or there won’t be anything left to salvage.”
A sidelong glance at the women confirmed Juan’s words. They’d developed an insubstantial aspect, a glowing nimbus that merged with a similar corona around the dragon. Soon, they’d be one and the same.
Fury filled Recco, burning like a beacon, and he dug deep. He felt the wolf helping, and he dredged power into as strong a shield as he could muster. As if from a great distance, he heard Juan.
“Uno. Dos. Tres.”
Recco leapt in front of the women from the left. Juan did the same from the right. A scream ripped from him, followed by another from Juan. He tried shaking himself. It only made things worse. Breath caught in his throat until it felt as if he’d inhaled ground glass. If he’d jumped into a high voltage electrical field, it wouldn’t have hurt this bad. Pain attacked him from all sides. Invisible knives, pickaxes, sabers. All with burning points that sloughed flesh from bone.
The dragon screamed its outrage and plunged back into the water, but not before the man in the boat recovered enough to squeeze off a shot. Daide sighted down the Ruger’s barrel.
“No,” Juan shrieked. “Do not shoot those people.” At least he was still on his feet, face etched into agonized fissures as he dealt with the same pain punching through Recco.
Daide swung the rifle wide at the last minute, and his bullet arrowed toward the choppy sea. An outraged howl ripped from him, followed by another. If Recco hadn’t felt like his entire body had dropped into a vat of scalding grease, he’d have hurried to his friend’s side.
His vision hazed red then gray then red again. Breathing was a struggle since his lungs were seared by the same fire attacking him from without. He forced himself to move. He had to get to Zoe. She lay facedown on the deck with Ketha and Karin huddled over her. Half crawling, he dragged himself to the women.
“Zoe? Be okay?” came out as a croak. Goddammit. Why wouldn’t his mouth cooperate and form words?
“Yes. She’s unconscious because the primary spell was hers, and it boomeranged back at her when you severed it,” Ketha explained. Magic flashed blue-white from her fingertips, forming a protective canopy around Zoe.
Karin hissed like an overheated teakettle. “Not that spell. Christ, woman. She’s not dying, and she’ll have a hell of a fright when she comes to and sees a shroud hanging over her.”
“Picky, picky.” Ketha made some adjustments, and the canopy faded into something less substantial.
“Not dying?” Recco forced the words out. His heart thumped hard in his chest, and he hoped to hell he’d heard right.
Karin peered at him, copper eyes sharp with concern. “Zoe will recover. So will you, but you took the brunt of this. You and Juan. Thank you, by the way. Goddess damn dragons. Self-centered fuckers. It would have drained us and then romped on back to the base where it’s been eating its way through the scientists and other staff for years.”
“Slowly. Savoring them, enjoying the hell out of their fear,” Ketha added. Her mouth twisted as if she’d bitten into something bitter. “Vampires weren’t the only ones who rejoiced about the Cataclysm. That dragon could finally embrace his inner beast, the one he stuffed under wraps after the Middle Ages ended.”
Daide slid to his knees next to Recco. “Let me help you up, and then we’ll go inside so I can work on your wounds.”
“Good plan.” Recco’s tongue still felt thick, like it belonged to someone else. He caught Daide’s worried gaze on him. “Do I look bad?”
“Worse than bad.”
“Go ahead.” Karin made shooing motions. “I’ll see to Zoe and Juan.”
Recco twisted his head toward Karin. The motion set off a barrage of new pain, and he bit back a howl. “You’re sure Zoe is—?”
“Yes. You have my personal guarantee. She’ll be fine. Get going.”
Daide hauled him to his feet, and Recco leaned heavily on him as they made their way inside the ship. “You okay?” he asked Daide.
“Better than you.”
“Not what I meant. You were howling.”
Daide pushed the door to Recco’s cabin open and followed him inside. “Let’s peel these clothes off you and get you under the shower. Once there’s no more debris in your abrasions, I’ll figure out where you need stitches.”
Recco let Daide undress him, helping as much as he could. His clothes were shredded down to skin level. They needed either a marathon session with a sewing machine—or a trash bin. The intense pain had yielded to a dull ache.
“Howling? Why?” he repeated.
Daide shucked his own clothes and followed Recco into the shower. He snatched the shower head from its cradle and adjusted the flow, aiming a gentle spray at Recco’s abraded flesh.
“I shot the dragon. Not sure how it happened. All the magic batting against itself snatched the bullet. When you and Juan severed the women’s magic, and it bounced back into the dragon, the bullet went with it.”
“Zoe said they’re immortal.” Recco arched his back as warm water sluiced down his body. It hurt, but the tight places all through his body started to unwind.
“Immortality couldn’t have saved the sea dragon. Not this time. The bullet went straight into its brain.”
“How do you know?” Recco’s head was clearing, and he welcomed a return of lucidity.
“I felt it. Zoe wasn’t the only one linked to the creature.” Daide’s face darkened. “It lied to me. I have no bloody idea what its plans were, except I’m certain it would have played me for a sucker and then killed me.”
“Yeah. Even your coyote was deceived. Bet it’s fit to be tied.”
“It’s not overly pleased.” Daide made a face. “Its initial take on the dragon was right on. Should have listened to it.”
“Yeah. My wolf is d
amned wise too. Aw crap.”
“What? Is the pain worse?” Daide moved the spray away from Recco, regarding him through worried eyes.
“No. All those people in the boats? What happened to them?”
“Boris and Ted were talking with them, and Viktor showed up about the time we left. Aura too. She said something about the dragon’s enchantment breaking or ending or something, which fits in with you believing it’s dead. Anyway, between all of them I’m sure they’ve taken care of everything.”
Recco twisted the taps and turned off the water. “You can’t know, not for certain. We have to get dressed and get back out there. What if—”
Daide plastered a towel over Recco’s mouth before draping it around his dripping shoulders. “The only thing you’ll be doing is sitting in the chair once you’re dry. I’m going to come back with suture material. Two of those gashes need stitches. Once they’re done, you can decide what happens next.”
Recco draped a terry cloth robe around himself and staggered to the chair. It was easier than drying himself. His head sagged toward his chest, and his eyes closed. What if he hadn’t realized what the dragon was doing?
The thought snapped his eyes open, but not for long. “Thanks for your help,” he told his bondmate.
“Thanks for yours.” The wolf’s praise was warm, genuine. “Your instincts were solid. They averted disaster.”
Recco blew out a tense breath. Maybe, just maybe, he’d end up worthy of his bondmate. It was a good goal, one that felt more achievable than it had a few weeks back.
Daide pushed into the room, medical kit dangling from one hand. “I’m surprised you’re still awake.”
“So am I, amigo. So am I.”
Chapter Eleven: Misunderstandings
Zoe had the mother of all headaches. Her temples pounded and throbbed and boomed, and her eyes were squinched shut. She’d opened them when Karin and Ketha had carried her to her cabin, and her head spun so viciously, she’d thrown up. The vomit stink clinging to her clothing didn’t help matters.
Someone pressed something to her lips. “Drink this.” Karin was back in doctor mode.
“She’ll need to sit up,” Ketha muttered from the other side of the room.
Zoe flailed, working to push herself up on her elbows. “Can’t you use magic?” she gritted out.
“Don’t have a whole hell of a lot left right now,” Karin retorted. “Besides, I have been. I’m hedging my bets.”
“I’ll help. Hang on.” Ketha crossed the room, her tread slow and heavy. She wrapped an arm around Zoe, stabilizing her so she could drink from the glass.
Bitter, chalky liquid flowed down her throat, so astringent it made her mouth pucker. “Geez,” she sputtered. “What the fuck was in the potion?”
“Things you need.” Karin set the glass down with a clank. “Take a few deep breaths to center yourself, and then open your eyes. Don’t flirt around with it. Take charge and open them.”
Zoe wanted to protest her stomach wasn’t feeling settled, particularly not with Karin’s recent addition. Instead, she inhaled. It was surprisingly difficult to haul the breath to the bottom of her lungs, so she repeated the gesture, sucking air like a bellows.
“That’s it,” Karin said encouragingly. “A few more exactly like the last couple. Your color’s finally improving.”
Zoe paused between breaths. “What color was I?”
“You matched the sheet beneath you to a T.” Ketha chuckled.
“Too much magic,” Zoe mumbled and went back to breathing. She felt the coyote inside her, but it wasn’t chiding her—for once. Maybe it recognized her intentions had been good. Besides, once she’d understood what had to happen, she’d moved fast. Before the evil she assumed had imprisoned the dragon could intuit her objective and block her.
If she’d had any inkling the dragon was her enemy, she’d never have left herself open to its power.
“Eyes,” Karin reminded her.
Zoe took one more deep breath and blew it out. Ready as she figured she’d ever be, she dragged her lids upward. The room swam into focus. At least she wasn’t too queasy.
Karin directed a smug look her way and dusted her hands together. “Easy as pie.”
“Yeah well, it wasn’t earlier.” A surly note threaded beneath Zoe’s words. She cut her churlish attitude off at its roots. “Thanks for sticking this out with me.”
Karin’s mouth curved into a smile. “It’s what we doctor types do. Thanks for not dying on me.”
Shock ratcheted Zoe to a sit, and she stuffed a pillow behind her back. “Jesus, God, and all the bluidy saints. Was it close?”
Karin patted her hand. “Not really, but the bastard dragon was well on its way to absorbing your essence, along with Ketha’s and mine by default.” She rolled her eyes. “We were the value-added bits. If the men hadn’t severed your spell, the dragon would have succeeded. Nothing I launched as a countermeasure touched it. I still can’t fathom how strong it was.”
“Nor can I.” Ketha perched on the edge of the bed. “Did you have a plan?” Her words were cautious and devoid of inflection.
“Of course I had a plan.” Defensiveness raced through Zoe in a blistering tide. “At the time, I thought the poor, wee dragon was a prisoner, and I was going to free it.” Bitter laughter slithered out. “Sure and I was a right bloody fool. Zoe Seisyll, patron of the downtrodden, savior of animals, children, and idiots.”
She stretched out her fingers from where she’d curled them into fists. “I played straight into its hand.”
“I didn’t sense the trap, either,” her coyote spoke up. “Not until it snapped shut around us. I tried to force a shift, except I was powerless.”
“I heard your coyote,” Ketha said. “None of our animals recognized how malevolent the sea dragon was—until it was too late.”
“Daide’s did,” Zoe said, “but then it changed its mind after the dragon seduced it.” Breath hissed through her teeth. “I’m glad it’s gone.” She bit her lower lip. “It is gone. Right? I thought I felt it die, but—”
“It’s dead,” Karin said. “When power ricocheted back into it, one of those two bullets plunged into its brainstem. I kept waiting for it to resurrect itself.”
“It never did,” Ketha cut in.
A knock sounded at the door just before it opened, admitting Viktor. “How are you?” he asked Zoe.
“Thanks for asking. I’ll live. The men—Juan and Recco—are they recovered?” She latched her gaze onto Viktor to make certain he told her the truth.
“Yes. They’ll be fine.” He shifted his attention to Ketha. “Can they spare you here?”
She stood. “I suppose so. Why?”
“Most of the McMurdo crew are in the dining room. I told them to hold off with their story until all of us could listen. Meanwhile, we’re sharing a meal with them.”
Zoe took stock of her body and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I want to be there. I’ll clean up and be down.”
Karin narrowed her eyes and jabbed her with magic. Zoe swung her head aside. “I’m fine. Have a smidgeon of faith in your healing ability, why don’t you?”
Karin snorted. “Sure and ye caught me flat-footed with that one.” She aped Zoe’s brogue.
Ketha walked to Viktor’s side. “See you soon,” she told Zoe, and left hanging onto her husband’s arm.
Karin stood. “If you’re sure...”
“I am. I can even feel my magical reservoir starting to replenish itself. Go get some dinner. You and Ketha may have been peripheral to my casting, yet you still sustained a fair amount of collateral damage.”
Karin nodded once. “It could have been worse. If you need me, use telepathy. And if you’re not in the dining room in half an hour, I’ll trot right back here to find out why.”
“Fair enough.”
Gratitude for Karin’s skill and unflappable nature filled Zoe as she watched the other woman walk out of her cabin. Pushing to her feet, she strippe
d off her clothes to skin level. Only her outermost layer had vomit on it, so she dragged the jacket into the shower, intent on washing it.
Her head still spun, but only a little, and the vertigo receded as she stood under the water. Soap and shampoo had a revitalizing effect, still she didn’t linger. Everyone would be waiting for her, and she didn’t want to hold them up any longer than absolutely necessary.
Dried and dressed, she unwound a towel from her hair and let the damp curls trail down her shoulders. She’d brush it out later. Her jacket hung dripping in the shower where it would dry eventually.
Surprised she felt as good as she did, she left her cabin and headed for the dining room. Everyone else was, indeed, waiting for her, but no one seemed upset. A chorus of greetings rang out, and Recco strode toward her.
“Glad to see you up and about.” He broke into a broad grin and grabbed one of her hands.
She thought she should pull away, except she couldn’t quite make herself follow through. “Sorry, folks,” she called out and glanced at all the unfamiliar faces. “Apologies you had to wait on me.”
Recco squeezed her hand and murmured, “We’ll talk later.” Releasing her, he returned to a table he shared with Daide, Tessa, Moira, and Karin.
“No apologies needed.” A rangy, broad-shouldered woman came to her feet and walked toward Zoe before extending her hand. “Etta Achter.” Steel-gray hair framed her face like a helmet. A pair of shrewd dark eyes crinkled at the corners. She looked around fifty and projected the same no-nonsense aspect as Karin. A beige, insulated garment rather like a flight suit covered her from shoulder to ankle. McMurdo Antarctic Station was embroidered in faded red across its left side.
Zoe grasped the woman’s outstretched hand and shook it. “’Tis a pleasure. I’m Zoe Seisyll. You must be the doctor from McMurdo.”
Etta nodded, and a shadow crossed her face. “Once I was one of half a dozen, but now I am the only one left.” She let go of Zoe and swung to face the groups of people sitting over cups, glasses, and half-eaten plates of food. “If none of my associates have any objections, I will begin. If I miss something important, please correct me.”
