by Ann Gimpel
“I’ve worked on them.”
“True, but not necessarily by choice.” Daide leaned closer. “What about Viktor and Juan and this ship? They’ve made it clear they could use double our numbers, particularly after we head into blue water north of here.”
“They just recruited over twenty—”
“You don’t know if any of them will leave McMurdo,” Daide cut in without letting Recco finish talking. He made a grab for Recco’s glass and drained what was left in it. “Were you going to discuss this with me? Or were you just going to say, ‘Sayonara, pal’?”
Recco cut his gaze away from Daide’s direct stare. “Not sure what I was going to do. Hadn’t thought it through. It’s only an idea so far.” He pushed back from where he’d been leaning his hands on the table and balled them into fists in his lap.
“You hadn’t thought it through, huh?” Daide’s eyes darkened with anger, and he blasted to his feet. “Do what you want, bud. Those years you were a Vampire left a huge mark. I’m sorry I didn’t notice it sooner. If I had, I’d have run the other way.” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bar. Fury and disappointment spilled from him.
“You’re doing a great job,” Recco’s wolf piped up. “Keep going and you’ll have alienated everyone.”
“Aw crap. You too?” Recco muttered.
“Why not? Did you think I’d gone somewhere? Or that I’d quietly leave you to your idiocy?”
Afraid someone might wander into the bar, Recco switched to telepathy. “What idiocy? Zoe has no use for me, and Daide is pissed.” Recco’s hands hurt, so he unclenched his fingers. “Of the two, I understand Daide’s position. I’d be annoyed too, if he dropped something monumental in my lap as a done deal.”
A low growl filled Recco’s chest, and he let it rumble out. Easier than holding it inside. “Loyalty is where wolves live,” his bondmate noted. “Pack is everything.”
“I already admitted Daide has every right to be furious. If I have a pack—beyond you and me—Zoe isn’t part of it.”
“You’d like her to be.” The wolf was implacable.
“I’ve wanted a whole lot of things from the time the Cataclysm locked us in Ushuaia. Not many of them happened.”
“Do you want to know what I think?”
Recco sucked air through his teeth. He curled his fingers around his glass, intent on returning to the bar for a refill. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me no matter what I answer.”
“You’re a coward. Not how I had you pegged, or I’d never have bonded with you.”
“Fine.” This time the snarl blowing past his lips came from him, not the wolf. “Everyone else is deserting me. You may as well leave too. Don’t fuck around about it. Just go.”
A tight place burned deep in his chest; Recco built walls around it. It was good to cut the dead weight, get down to bedrock once he found out who was on his side—and who wasn’t. His family had sent him out into the countryside when he turned thirteen. It was an old-time ritual followed by his tribe, one of the few they still adhered to.
His task was to discover his totem animal and to stay alive for three days. Being hungry wasn’t what would do him in. Jaguars roamed the wilds. So did poisonous snakes. He still remembered how scared he’d been, but he’d pretended he was on top of the challenge, that he had it nailed. He’d swaggered out of the Buenos Aires slum he’d been raised in and gotten into his uncle’s rattletrap Jeep. An hour later, the Jeep rolled to a halt, and his uncle poked him in the side.
“Get moving.” Uncle Carlos hadn’t even looked at him, and his tone left no space for disagreement.
Recco had scrambled out of the car, jumping back so it didn’t spray him with gravel as it sped away up the rutted dirt track. His chest had felt tight then too. So had his throat. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Some parting words of wisdom, or maybe encouragement. His uncle acted as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of him.
He’d moved to the side of the road, hunkering in the dirt and feeling very sorry for himself. The sun beat heavily on him, and sweat rolled down his body. A slithering hiss drove him to his feet, heart pounding against his ribs. The jararacussu—although he hadn’t had a name for it then—struck and missed, and it marked the beginning of his trial. No more squatting in the dirt, wallowing in self-pity.
Recco pushed to his feet and walked the glass back to the bar sink, rinsing and drying it. No more booze. Not today. His three days in Argentina’s bush had changed him. He hadn’t been a man afterward, not yet, but he’d taken the first steps toward independence. Though he’d had no way of knowing it at the time, those seventy-two hours shaped the adult he’d become. Fed his determination not to need anyone.
Daide had spent years drilling holes in Recco’s barriers. He understood them because he’d undergone a similar coming-of-age ritual, except his included a dozen young men. Their interdependency was what pulled them through.
Insights spilled through Recco as he hustled out of the bar. Things he should have known all along but had ignored. Daide welcomed others. Recco never had. There’d been no need since Daide handled that end of their professional lives. He’d been the one who set up their field trips, their lectures, even their required continuing education.
“What the fuck did I do all those years?” He winced. He’d kept the lab and their shared living quarters clean, managed the accounts, and ordered supplies. Basically, he’d done all the things a confirmed loner would do. The items not requiring him to tip his hand and disclose anything about himself. He’d never had to tell anyone anything personal.
Probably why the transition to Vampire had been marginally tolerable. Emotional isolation was already a comfort zone for him. The blood part had been distasteful, but he’d had an easier time pretending it wasn’t happening than Daide, who’d puked his way through the first several months of feedings.
So long as he was on a roll, he forced himself to examine the wasteland his life had been. How he’d said what he needed to entice women into his bed, moving on the moment one made any noises about wanting something more permanent. His confirmed bachelor status had been his fault, not Daide’s.
“It’s a start.” The wolf was back. “Still don’t care if I leave?”
Recco ducked out a door onto one of Arkady’s many walkways. Cold air blasted through his clothing. He welcomed the brisk breeze. “I never said I didn’t care. All I said was if you were going to leave, you should get on with it.”
“Not what I asked,” the wolf persisted. “Do you care about being a Shifter?”
Recco bit back a sarcastic comeback. Something about the wolf’s tone demanded honesty, not flippant commentary. “Yes. I care.” He swallowed around tight jaw muscles.
“How do you feel about me?”
The question caught him off guard, and Recco stammered, “What do you mean?”
“It’s clear enough. You care about being a Shifter. Do you care about me, specifically? Your bondmate?”
“Of course I do.” Recco curled his fingers around the cold metal railing but let go fast before his flesh adhered to the chilly surface.
“You never asked me what I think about your McMurdo idea.”
Recco was starting to shiver. It was far too cold to be outside for long without his jacket and insulated pants. He wasn’t sure how to phrase things, so he blurted, “Is it a requirement?” and winced. “Sorry. Didn’t come out right. Do we make decisions as a team about where I live?”
“Under normal circumstances, no. The post-Cataclysm world is far from normal. If we remained at McMurdo, we’d be the only Shifter there. It would be lonely, difficult. Worse, if you changed your mind, there’d be no way to leave. You can’t count on another ship wandering by. Even if one did, they might not want a Shifter aboard.”
The wolf hurried on before Recco could craft a reply. “The answer is twofold. I wouldn’t offer an opinion unless I felt you were making a mistake. One we’d both have to live with.”
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nbsp; Even trying to hold his jaws shut didn’t keep his teeth from chattering. Recco made for a nearby door and went back inside.
Juan charged down the corridor. “There you are. What the fuck, amigo? Daide told Viktor and me you’re jumping ship. He’s pretty spun out about it. So am I. And Vik is livid.”
Recco wrapped his arms around himself to conserve what body heat he had left. “Daide has a big mouth. I was only floating possibilities.”
“What does that mean?” Juan crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you leaving or not?” Without waiting for Recco’s reply, he kept bellowing. “I thought Viktor made it abundantly clear how short we are on crew. It’s only going to grow worse when we leave Antarctic waters. The roaring forties and fifties got their name for a reason. We may have a hell of a rough passage and—” He shut his mouth with an audible clack.
“First off,” Recco began through teeth that still chattered, although not as badly, “I assumed you’d pick up a bunch of folk from McMurdo.”
“You have no bloody way of knowing,” Juan countered. “If the doctor remains, I bet most of her people will too. Their main nemesis was the dragon, and it’s dead. Besides, this isn’t about them, it’s about you.”
“Mind if we move this into my cabin where it’s more private?”
“All I need is a yes or a no. One word scarcely requires privacy. There’s not any combination of reasons you could gin up to justify—”
“Justify what?” Recco latched onto anger of his own. “Since when did this ship turn into the Bounty, Captain Bligh?”
Though the corners of Juan’s mouth twitched, he didn’t come close to smiling. “This is serious business, amigo. Either we’re a team. Or we’re not. We have a goal that’s bigger than any one of us. It’s closing the primary gateway Ketha and Aura discovered on Wrangel Island. Our goal is ten thousand nautical miles from here, give or take a few hundred. It will require all of us—and we still might not manage to transit the globe.”
Recco flinched. He hadn’t forgotten about the portal forged by the Cataclysm, an entry point for evil from other worlds, but it hadn’t been in the front of his mind, either. He felt petty and small, a coward precisely like his bondmate had pointed out. At least the worst of the shudders racking his body had calmed. He set his mouth in a tight line.
“No. I’m not leaving Arkady. It was only a thought, probably not a viable one. Daide had no business—”
“He had every business. We’re a family. No secrets.” Juan stuck out a hand.
After a slight hesitation, Recco shook it. “Signed and sealed, eh?”
“About the size of it.” The expression on Juan’s face could have curdled milk. “Be grateful it’s not the 1800s where once you signed on, you crewed for life—or until the ship sank, whichever came first.”
“You don’t understand.”
“And I don’t need to. I’m still pissed, but I’ll get over it. I’m glad you’ve reconsidered. What you need to understand is Arkady is a stand-in for the children Vik and I never had. We feel protective of her. We lost one ship, and it cut deep. We don’t aim to lose another. Every single crew member is a hedge against disaster. Plus, it will take every magic-wielder we can come up with to take on whatever’s waiting for us on Wrangel Island. Assuming we even get that far.”
The PA system crackled, and Viktor’s voice blasted from a speaker sitting right above them. “Everyone to the bridge, pronto.”
Breath whistled through Juan’s teeth. “Goddammit. What now?” Spinning, he took off up a nearby set of stairs.
The last thing Recco wanted to do was face Viktor. Presumably, he was as put out as Juan had been. Better to give things time to settle. Everyone included him, though, so he trudged up the same stairs Juan had taken, albeit more slowly. He wasn’t in any hurry for a public dressing down.
“The beginning of wisdom is recognizing your limitations,” the wolf observed.
“Or my foolhardiness?”
“That too.”
“You were correct about me being a coward. I didn’t want to deal with Zoe’s rejection. Leaving seemed easier.”
A howl was followed by, “I’m always right. Get used to it.”
Recco bit back a comment about Daide’s coyote being wrong about the sea dragon, except it hadn’t been. Not really. So far today, he’d managed to alienate Zoe, Daide, Juan, and Viktor. And his bondmate. It was time to eat humble pie, not make any more enemies. His insight from earlier slapped him hard. He might see himself as a self-sufficient island, but the hard truth was he couldn’t go it alone in a world scoured by the Cataclysm.
And he would have had a far harder time running a veterinary clinic by himself even before the Cataclysm, if it hadn’t been for Daide taking care of the things he preferred to ignore.
“Next time you see him, you might thank him,” the wolf said, sounding smug.
“Next time I see him, I will.”
He’d apologize too, without any prodding from the wolf.
The sound of footsteps running up the stairs behind him was accompanied by the distinctive feel of Zoe’s energy. Recco moved to the side of the staircase to let her run past.
Except she didn’t. Closing her fingers around his arm, she said, “I heard you’re leaving the ship. You can’t go. I’m sorry about earlier. It’s just...” Her words vanished in a volley of pants as she caught her breath.
Before he had a chance to tell her she didn’t owe him any explanations, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him. It shocked him so much, moments passed before he gathered her close and kissed her back.
Chapter Thirteen: Old Secrets
Half an Hour Before
Zoe bolted awake when her cabin door crashed against its stops and Daide rushed inside. “Good,” he gritted out. “You’re up.”
“I wasn’t until right now.” Zoe rubbed her hot, gritty eyes. Her vision blurred, so she gave it up for a lost cause. It felt like she’d just fallen asleep, or else she’d been out for hours. Her brain was fuzzy, uncooperative.
Daide stomped next to her bunk, and she scooted to a sitting position, noticing she still had all her clothes on. Sometimes being a sloth paid off.
“What happened?” She peered up at him, still marshaling her resources. If she’d had any adrenaline left, it would have kicked in by now. As things stood, she slogged through thick, sticky mud that slowed everything to a fraction of normal speed.
He closed a hand around her upper arm and narrowed his eyes to slits. “You have to get up. Recco wants to stay here, and I suspect it has something to do with you. Whatever you did, woman, undo it. I will not have my partner and my closest friend stranded at the southern pole forever.”
Defensiveness ran hot and swift. Zoe tempered it fast and aimed for a modicum of dignity. “He’s a grown-up. He can make his own choices. Besides, I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Daide might be Recco’s male equivalent of a best friend forever, but it didn’t give him the right to insert himself quite this far into Recco’s business—or their argument.
“The hell you don’t.” Daide shook her. Not hard. It still annoyed the crap out of her, and she wrenched out of his grasp.
“Now look here, you great bluidy bloke—”
“Ye dinna hear me.” He copied her brogue so badly, she’d have laughed under any other circumstances.
Daide bent so his face—its harsh expression carved in stone—was even with hers. “Recco is leaving Arkady. Because of you. If you don’t fix whatever you broke, I’ll make your life so miserable, you’ll wish you’d jumped ship with him.” Spinning on his heel, he stalked out of her room, slamming the door behind him.
Zoe stared after him, the dregs of sleep fading as his words hit her like a doubled-up punch to the stomach. She shook her head hard. When it didn’t help fast enough, she staggered to the basin and ran icy-cold water. Bending over the sink, she dropped her face into her cupped hands. The water was cold enough to hurt, but it brought conscious
ness roaring back.
Everything throbbed, from her headache, which had never truly left, to muscles she hadn’t thought about in years. Pain brought Daide’s words into finely honed focus, and she choked on panic. Surely, he had to be wrong. Recco was loyal. He’d never desert Arkady.
“Don’t be so certain.” Her coyote yipped deep inside her, a desolate howl. The one coyotes reserved for losing pack members.
Zoe snapped her attention inward. “’Tis true, then?” She inhaled raggedly, urging her bond animal to refute Daide’s prediction.
“He’s not gone yet.” The coyote didn’t add to its words, and she felt it within, watchful and waiting.
Zoe dried her hands and stuffed her feet into her boots, the one item of clothing she’d taken off before diving headlong into her bunk, mostly so she wouldn’t get grit and seawater on her sheets.
The PA system crackled, followed by Viktor’s voice. “Everyone to the bridge, pronto.”
“Awk. Christ and all the bluidy, fecking saints,” she muttered and fled into the corridor feeling torn. She had to find Recco, but Viktor had ordered them to the bridge. Did it mean Recco would be there too? Or was she too late and he’d already launched a Zodiac? The coyote had suggested otherwise. When she asked it again, it didn’t reply.
The adrenaline she figured she’d run dry pounded through her, leaving a bitter, metallic taste on her tongue. She sent a thread of magic outward, seeking Recco. He had to still be on the ship. For Daide to burst into her room, and shed all semblance of his usual mild-mannered presence, told her how frantic he must be.
She realized she’d missed the closest stairwell and doubled back. All the ship’s metal made her magic ping back crazily. First, she was certain she felt Recco’s distinct energy, but then it frittered to nothing. She missed a step and stumbled, barking her shin. A shot of magic kept her upright. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy?
Get over yourself. Her inner voice held a sharp rebuke.
Focus.
Zoe reeled in her guilt, her responsibility, her agitation. They could be why her seeking spell was bouncing around like an overly enthusiastic Ping-Pong ball. Sure enough, once she forged a calm center out of the chaos her mind had become, she felt Recco dead ahead and one floor up.
