by Ann Gimpel
Perfect. She could catch him before they reached the bridge. She didn’t have much she wanted to say, but she’d prefer not to have an audience. Zoe pushed her sore muscles to greater speed. White-hot darts shot up both legs; she ignored them.
The next corner yielded a set of stairs with Recco partway up them. He must sense her. It wasn’t as if she was being the least bit stealthy. Her boots slapped the linoleum risers, and she must sound like a wee bellows as she forced air through her lungs in hopes it would yield more speed.
He moved to the side, not bothering to turn around. Goddammit it. He wasn’t going to make this easy. Couldn’t a lass have a meltdown because she was worried? About him, for chrissakes? He’d misinterpreted her concern as criticism and overreacted.
She sought words to convey everything welling inside her. The task was daunting, too hard, especially in her current state. Plus, she didn’t much care for the blaming part. It might be his fault, but she’d tossed out incendiary comments first.
No one’s fault. It’s not the way to approach this problem.
Two more steps and she’d be even with him. No time to plan anything elegant. Closing her fingers around his arm, she blurted, “Daide said 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.
A startled look flitted across his face, but he didn’t appear particularly relieved—or welcoming. Zoe took a chance and flung herself into his arms, slashing her mouth over his. At first, he didn’t react, and she felt like a fool. Determined not to give up, she wound her arms around him and upped the ante on her kiss, licking, sucking, biting, hoping he’d open his mouth to welcome her tongue.
Humiliation heated her from the chest up. She’d thrown herself at a man who’d never wanted her, and her ill-timed seduction scheme was only making things worse. He stood stiffly against her, but he’d stopped shy of unwinding her arms from around his neck, probably to avoid hurting her feelings.
His lips felt amazing. Firm and velvety, and he tasted of Irish whiskey. She wanted to sink her fingers into his thick, dark hair, except she really needed to detach herself from the one-sided kiss. She would. Very soon. This would be the only kiss she’d ever share with Recco, and she hated to let him go. No matter what happened now, her embarrassment couldn’t grow any worse. The deed was done, and she’d have to live with it.
She started to pull away. Should she apologize? Or blunder through reasons he had to rethink his decision about McMurdo. Had he already talked with the German doctor? Did they roll out the welcome mat for him? She wouldn’t resolve any of those questions with her mouth glued to his.
The stiffness left his body, and he threaded his arms around her. Splaying his hands across her shoulders, he kneaded her sore muscles and ran his fingertips down her spine. He kissed her back, not only opening his mouth but sparring with her tongue, and the hot length of him pressing into her belly sent sensation spilling through her.
Time ground to a halt as they grappled with one another in the narrow stairway. Her breath quickened, and her heart thumped hard against her rib cage. This time it had nothing to do with running to catch up with Recco, and everything to do with a growing desperation to drag the man in her arms off to the nearest place they could lie down and divest themselves of enough clothing to make love.
He ripped his mouth from hers, dark eyes burning with intensity and need. “Zoe. Darling. I’ve dreamed of holding you like this, but I thought—”
She placed a hand over his mouth. “We can hash everything out later. Tell me you’re not leaving.”
His face split into a smile, and it set her world alight. “No. Juan already dredged that commitment out of me.” He rolled his eyes. “Christ, Daide has a big mouth. I passed an idea by him, and he raced out of the bar like a madman with a mission.”
Zoe angled her head to one side. “He loves you like a brother. He made it abundantly clear if you left, he’d pin my hide to the wall. I had no idea he was anything other than mild-mannered. It was quite a shock to be on the receiving end of his wrath.”
Recco made a sound somewhere between a grunt and an amused snort. “Daide’s mild-mannered, Clark Kent persona is a front. He can get amazingly spun out, but he corrals his temper well—most of the time.”
“What part of bridge or pronto didn’t sink in?” Viktor inquired dryly from the top of the stairwell.
“Oops. Got diverted.” Zoe tried for a smile. It faded when she saw the grave cast to Viktor’s features. He was angry. Annoyance jetted from him in choppy little spurts. When she tuned in with magic, she heard his raven shrieking curses.
“Get up here. Both of you.” Viktor stepped backward into the space between the top of the stairs and the door into the bridge. Once they stood in front of him, he said, “The lecture will be brief. I have a roomful of people in there”—he jerked his chin over one shoulder—“waiting for you.”
“We are sorry—” Recco began.
Viktor made a chopping motion. “While I’m glad the two of you got over whatever snit made Recco believe McMurdo would be preferable to this ship, when Juan or I give an order, you comply as fast as possible. What if there’d been an emergency? What if I hadn’t had the luxury of time to hunt you down?”
“Got it. I truly am sorry,” Zoe said.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re sorry. What I need is for this to not happen again. That’s it. Get moving.” He pointed at the bridge.
Zoe bit back an acid question about keelhauling and if it was still the preferred method of dealing with unruly ship’s crew. Viktor took his job seriously, and the job included keeping all of them alive. She should get down on her knees and thank him, but her Irish temper had always been her undoing. She felt like a ten-year-old who’d been reprimanded for leaving the barn door open, after the family’s prize pig escaped and was run down by a tractor.
Guilty and responsible seemed to be her theme songs today. The emotional balance point she’d had before the Sirens and their lyre was elusive, slipping beyond her grasp time and again. She needed to reclaim it—and damned fast. Her big mouth had already gotten her in hot water with Recco. This wasn’t Belfast, where everyone was a firebrand, and she had more latitude to spout off.
Recco held the door to the bridge and gestured her through. His nearness was intoxicating, but she couldn’t think about him. Being fixated on him was why they were late to this mandatory gathering—because she’d hoped the kiss would last forever. She wanted to talk with him—and hold him and explore his body—far more than she wanted to hear whatever Viktor had in mind. Apparently, Recco had felt the same because he hadn’t been in any hurry to join the others, either.
She nodded at him and made her way to where Karin and Ketha stood off to one side. “What in the goddess’s name happened to you?” Karin hissed.
“Long story,” she whispered back.
Viktor clapped his hands together once. It had the desired effect because side conversations died.
“Etta got back to me on the radio,” he informed the group. “Most of them will remain at McMurdo. A handful want to join us.” A muscle twitched beneath one eye. “Who wants to break the news to them about all but five of us being Shifters? I didn’t figure it should be me or Juan, since we’re new at this magic stuff. While I’m at it, do we fess up about being Vamps for ten years?” His gaze roved over the group.
“What about the Cataclysm?” Juan cut in. “Do we tell them why it receded?”
“What about the sea dragon?” Tessa asked. “If we tell them the truth about everything else...”
Zoe arched her brows Karin’s way and said, “Seems to me, we’d have to disclose everything. Nothing quite like being stuck on a ship with a bigger mouthful of dead sea fruit and arcane practices than you ever believed existed.”
“Yeah. Did you notice how they explained away the sea dragon’s more unusual abilities under the veil of science?” Ketha asked.<
br />
“Why wouldn’t they?” Daide retorted. “Science is where they live.”
“Anyone else?” Viktor scanned the room.
“I agree with Zoe. It’s all or none.” Aura spoke with conviction.
“And it canna be none,” Zoe muttered, not bothering to moderate her brogue. “Because then, none of us would be able to shift. Arkady’s not big enough to hide something like that.”
“Even worse,” Karin cut in, standing straighter, “we wouldn’t be able to use magic to fight. If what we’ve run into so far is any indication, we’ll need every scrap of our paranormal abilities. We can’t be hindered by having to mask who and what we are.”
Conversation ebbed and flowed. Consensus fell on the side of full disclosure.
“Who’s going to tell them?” Moira demanded, her dark eyes radiating worry. “And will it be in person or over the radio?”
Zoe pinched the bridge of her nose between a thumb and forefinger. “Aye, ’tis the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. News like this is oft best delivered in person. If it scares the bejesus out of them, sends them scrambling for the Zodiacs—”
“Or their rifles to shoot us,” Karin added sourly.
“Aye, that too.” Zoe turned her hands palms upward. “Mayhap the radio is safest. If they have a meltdown, we can pull anchor and be gone afore they decide we have no right to live.”
Boris cleared his throat and caught Juan’s eye. “Accepting your magic was quite an adjustment, but I knew you before either of us suspected anything arcane existed. It helped because I’d already carved out a relationship with you and trusted your intentions.”
“You helped us,” Sasha said in his gravelly Russian-accented English. “You also help people from McMurdo. It may assist them to tolerate you being...different.”
“It’s a good point. Are we certain none of them are magical?” Recco asked. He’d staked out a corner of the bridge with Daide, and it appeared they’d found a way to shelve their differences. Maybe they’d been conversing telepathically while the rest of them debated the pros and cons of revealing what they were.
Zoe rolled the question around. “I dinna check.” She sent pointed glances at the ten other Shifter women. Everyone shook their heads.
“I might not have checked, but I doubt it,” Ketha said. “If any of them possessed magic, they’d have recognized the sea dragon for what it was.”
“Are you certain?” Viktor asked.
“Not a hundred percent,” she admitted. “Damn close to it, though.”
Motion flagged the corner of Zoe’s eyes, and she snapped her head up to stare out the windows. “So much for using the radio.” She extended an arm. “A raft is headed our way.”
Juan hustled to the bridge’s glass wall. A low growl rose from his throat. “How many wanted to leave McMurdo?” he asked without turning around.
“Four, I believe,” Viktor said. “Let’s do our best not to alienate them. We need crew.”
“I have an idea.” Boris joined Juan at the windows. “How about if Ted, Sasha, and I deliver the information. We’re human. They’re human. We clearly haven’t been co-opted by the devil, so they might believe us when we assure them they’ll be safe.”
“Might work.” Ted drew his thick, blond brows together.
“I want to help.” Diana detached herself from a shadowy corner. A brown-eyed thirty-something with longish brown hair, she’d been one of the survivors from Arctowski.
“Me too.” Nora, still painfully thin, limped to Diana’s side. Her red hair hung in braids to her waist, and her blue eyes shone with determination. “So far, I’ve been dead weight around here.”
“You’ve been recovering from losing your son and almost dying yourself.” Karin strode to her side. “Give it time.”
Nora nodded. “You’ve been more than kind to me, Doc, but I need purpose now James is dead.”
“All right, people. We have a plan.” Viktor raised his voice to be heard over multiple conversations. “I’ll lower the gangway and herd whoever’s on the raft into the second dining room.”
“We’ll be there,” Boris said, and trotted out of the bridge with Ted, Sasha, Diana, and Nora behind him.
“I’ll remain after I shepherd the folks to Boris,” Viktor said. “Not front and center, but in the back of the room in case things go badly and I need to organize a quick exit for our guests.”
“Do you want me with you?” Ketha asked.
He shook his head. “Probably best if you’re not.”
“If they don’t run out of here screaming their heads off like a bunch of ninnies, do you suppose there’d be any chance of us going ashore and culling through some of the lab equipment they’re not using?” Recco asked. A hopeful note rode beneath his words.
“Phenomenal idea,” Karin crowed.
“No shit. I’m ashamed I didn’t come up with it,” Ketha muttered.
“One thing at a time,” Viktor said. “Let’s get through this next part. If we’re still playing on the same team afterward, I’ll ask about spare lab materials.” Grabbing his parka, he slipped into it and left the bridge.
Zoe blew out a tired breath. Everything still hurt despite focusing healing magic on her injuries. Food and sleep were her best antidotes. A glance at the clock told her she hadn’t eaten much in hours. Determined to take care of herself so she got past feeling like warmed-over haggis, she decided to swing by the galley. There’d be food from the last couple of meals, and it was as good a place as any to start.
Recco and Daide were deep in conversation. She didn’t want to intrude, so she turned to leave. Besides, it seemed premature for her to report her comings and goings to Recco. She craved more one-on-one time with him. It could wait until she was in better shape. She’d barely cleared the door when the men caught up with her.
“Sorry I was harsh,” Daide said.
Zoe twisted to face them. Too trashed for subtlety, she blurted, “Are you? I bet Recco told you to apologize.”
Color heightened the copper tones of Daide’s skin. “I do a few things on my own.”
She winced at the dour undernote in his words. “I should keep my mouth shut until I’ve had something to eat and about ten more hours sleep.”
“I could make you a plate and bring it to your cabin,” Recco suggested. When he trained his dark eyes on her, they brimmed with concern.
Her heart did a funny little flip-flop. “’Twould be lovely. The spectacle playing itself out in dining room two won’t take very long, though. If things go south, we’ll be moving along. If things go well, you’ll want to visit the research station to see if they have anything we could use.”
Her gaze swung from Recco to Daide and back again. Recco looked disappointed. Daide appeared pleased—and relieved. She understood Recco’s emotions because she wanted more time with him too, but Daide’s simmering satisfaction confused her. What did it mean?
“I’ll check in with you later,” Recco said, and gave her a quick hug.
“I’d like that.” Zoe trotted down a nearby stairway, her thoughts a muddle. Neither man had married. Was it because no woman could compete with the bond they’d forged over twenty plus years? She’d find a delicate way of asking about it when she wasn’t so tired.
Aye and if I do, ’twill have to be a quid pro quo.
She wasn’t exactly ready to kick the lid off her sordid love life. She’d left Ireland for good reasons. A year away would have been perfect to let the hoopla die down from the trio of married men she’d been spending time with. No one knew about anyone else—until one of their wives caught wind her husband was cheating and sicced a detective agency on Zoe.
The results hadn’t been pretty. At least she’d avoided lurid headlines shouting, “Nympho College Professor Can’t Keep Her Knickers On.”
She hip-butted the galley door and trudged inside. Her appetite had fled, but she stuffed an assortment of food into her mouth, chewing and swallowing so fast it was a miracle she didn’t cho
ke. Or puke it all back up. Pouring a glass of herbal tea, she doubled back for her cabin.
She’d been outspoken about full disclosure with the folk from McMurdo. The same rules applied for any human interaction. She had to tell Recco about her fall from grace before they shared any more kisses. Or much of anything else.
“What do you think?” she asked her coyote, hoping for a reprieve. For it to reassure her she didn’t have to bare her soul. It wasn’t as if any of her lovers had been Shifters. Only men with a hankering to score a wee bit of no-strings-attached tail.
“Such decisions are above my pay grade,” her bondmate replied archly.
“Damn it. I hate it when you do that.” She didn’t bother with telepathy. No reason to since she was inside her cabin.
“Do what?”
“Use modern phraseology.”
A spate of almost unintelligible Old Gaelic rattled from the coyote, followed by, “Did ye like that better, lass?”
“Never mind. Forget I asked anything.”
Feeling glum and achy, she downed three ibuprofen, set the tea in a metal holder in case the ship set sail, and huddled in her bunk. The descent into blackness was almost immediate.
Chapter Fourteen: When Vigilance Isn’t Enough
Darkness had long since fallen when Recco clambered up the gangway, laden with chemicals and instrumentation. McMurdo’s lab facilities were extensive, and what was left of the staff been generous. The only price had been an intriguing question-and-answer session. Dr. Achter and her colleagues had probed first about vampirism, and then about Shifter abilities. Rather than being shocked or horrified, scientific curiosity rose to the fore, with every question forging a path for several more.
According to Viktor, the researchers who wanted to sign on as crew for Arkady had been equally fascinated when Boris and his companions threw down the gauntlet in the second dining room. A paleontologist, a biochemist, a zoologist, and a physicist, they’d been full of questions too. So many, Viktor encouraged them to settle in with Moira, Tessa, and Becca once they’d selected cabins.
