by Ann Gimpel
Recco reached the top of the gangway and made his way inside, intent on dropping his loot in the lab and calling it a night. He replayed the questions from earlier. They’d held depth and enough sophistication, he’d learned a lot about Shifter history and abilities. Toward the end, the conversation moved to other types of magical beings. Viktor, Ketha, and Karin were still at the base. From the looks of things, they might not return until dawn.
Even though he could have remained, Recco was weary. The aftereffects from taking on the sea dragon dragged at him. When he’d suggested returning to Arkady, Juan jumped on it, which told him the other man probably wasn’t in much better shape. Daide and Aura opted to join them. The night crossing in a Zodiac had been bitterly cold, but the sky was crystal clear and richly decorated with constellations.
“Feel like a nightcap?” Daide called from behind him.
Recco jumped. He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed Daide’s presence. Kicking the lab door open, he made for the cabinets at one end of the room. Lights flared, so Daide must have hit the switch. Not concerned with arranging anything, Recco slotted materials into bins that would protect them from the ship’s movement and turned to face his friend.
“Maybe not tonight. I’m done in.”
“One drink? You’d save me from drinking alone.” Daide unloaded the backpack filled with chemical reagents, a darkfield scope, and assorted other instrumentation.
“Nah. I’ll see you in the morning. Vik and them will be back by then, and I bet we leave soon thereafter.”
Daide set his jaw in a tight line and narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to Zoe’s cabin, aren’t you?”
Recco was so surprised, he fell back a step. Defensiveness vied with anger, and his sore muscles tightened into rocks. “No. I’m doing exactly what I said. Going to bed. My own. Since when do I report to you?”
“You don’t.” Daide looked at his boots. “It’s just that—”
“Just what?” Recco rounded on him. “Look, Mr. Big Mouth. You stirred up a whole kettle of shit when you ran to Juan and Viktor and Zoe about a few offhand comments I made.” Without waiting for Daide to reply, he kept on rolling. “Furthermore, I like Zoe. It’s the first time I’ve felt like this about a woman in a really long time, and I am not going to push my feelings under a blanket because it might trample on some kind of holy ground between us. What is it with you? Every single, fucking time I even consider getting involved with someone, you do your damnedest to sabotage it. It’s hard enough for me to connect with other people, but you made it all but impossible.”
“That’s not true. I had relationships too.” Daide’s words were strained. His shoulders squared off at an unnatural angle as if he’d rather be anywhere except here.
“Yeah, but they never lasted long, and”—Recco doubled up a fist and brought it down on a desk—“I never cared who you saw, what you did with them, or anything else about your personal life. It was yours.”
“We operate differently. I always watched out for you.” Accusation pinged sourly off Daide’s words.
“Because I didn’t insert myself into your love life didn’t mean I didn’t have your back in case something went wrong. You’re not my parent. Nor am I yours. Christ. Do we have to do this now?”
Recco rubbed his temples, snagged his fingertips on a row of sutures, and bit back a curse. Breath whistled through his teeth, and he made a grab for his temper, which had lurched outside its sandbox. The space between himself and Daide sharpened into painfully clear focus, and his hand was still fisted. He squeezed his arm against his side. It took effort not to punch Daide square in his face.
Try as he might, Recco couldn’t keep quiet. He drew his lips back from his teeth and snarled, “Everything’s always been fine so long as you called the shots. I rarely argued, to keep peace between us, but by God, you will not harass me about Zoe. Do I make myself clear?”
“Sorry I brought it up,” Daide said, tightlipped. His words didn’t match his body language. Every aspect from his rigid posture and clenched jaw to his flaring nostrils screamed frustration and annoyance.
Recco teetered on the edge of a point of no return. He could blow up at Daide—something he’d come close to doing many, many times—and blast their long friendship to smithereens, or he could tread a customary path and back down. He breathed deep, the scents of the lab familiar and soothing in an odd way, and forced himself to be rational.
This wasn’t like the other times he’d swallowed outrage. He and Daide would have to hash this out. Now wasn’t the time. “Look,” he said. “We’re both tired. Not the best occasion to talk about anything.” Walking to Daide, he dropped a hand on his shoulder, hoping to make peace.
Eyes still hooded, Daide shook him off and all but raced out of the lab.
Recco stared after him. A headache pounded behind one eye. Had the sea dragon done something to Daide? He’d always had an obsessive need to control things, but his actions today were way over-the-top. Plodding to the door, Recco dowsed the lights and headed for his cabin. Where before he’d been tired, now his brain spun in feverish circles.
He needed to think clearly. It didn’t seem to be in the cards. Moving on autopilot, he entered his cabin and switched on the reading light over the bunk. He washed his hands carefully in case some of the lab equipment held any stray bacteria, and then undressed, thoughts still whirling.
He’d joked with Daide they were like the original Odd Couple. It was closer to the truth than a witticism. They complemented one another, and Recco had never minded Daide’s fixation on running things his way. So long as the veterinary clinic turned a profit and patients kept flowing, Recco was happy. Daide’s control-freak inclinations had proven to be a hindrance after Raphael turned them, but Recco hadn’t paid much attention to his stream of bellyaching.
Maybe because he hadn’t offered grist for the mill, Daide eventually settled down. Recco sluiced water over his face and gave his teeth a cursory brushing before slumping onto his bunk. Daide was a good friend. The best. But he’d be damned if he’d let him drive a wedge between him and Zoe.
Hell, the relationship had barely gotten off the ground. Daide would have to find a way to live with it, assuming today’s beginnings blossomed into something bigger. Even if they didn’t, the episode that had unfolded in the lab—coupled with Daide’s frantic call to arms when Recco said he was considering leaving—convinced him a major restructuring of their relationship was long overdue.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Friends doesn’t mean we own one another. More specifically, he doesn’t get to make my decisions. I’ve never tried to make his.”
He flicked out the light and shut his eyes. It helped the throbbing in his head a little. The first thing to figure out was if the sea dragon had contaminated Daide’s mind in some way.
“Can you or Daide’s coyote help sort through it?” he asked his wolf.
“Possibly.”
“Thanks for being there so I didn’t have to explain everything.”
“I said possibly. Dragons are ancient and powerful.”
“This one’s dead.”
“Maybe. Even if it is, its magic didn’t necessarily die with it.”
“Keep talking. Please.”
A whuffling growl, maybe lupine laughter, rumbled through his chest, activating more sore places. Recco groaned and rolled over, trying to find some body part that didn’t hurt to lie on.
“The dragon may be dead. It might have left for another world to heal its wounds. For us, the important part is it’s no longer in these waters. I don’t believe it’s likely to return.”
“Should be a great relief to the folk at McMurdo,” Recco mumbled.
“I still sense traces of its magic,” the wolf went on. “Whether they’re linked to Daide or only to this area is beyond my ability to discern.”
“Can his bond animal determine the source?” Recco inhaled sharply, wanting the answer to be yes but suspecting it cou
ldn’t be so simple.
“I don’t know,” the wolf answered flatly. “The coyote was first right, and then wrong, about the dragon. I wasn’t at all comfortable how easily it was fooled by the dragon’s victim illusion.”
“Maybe the women can figure something out.”
“Or their bond animals.”
“I hadn’t forgotten them.”
Recco fell silent. He wasn’t going to unravel anything tonight, and if he didn’t get some sleep, he wouldn’t be worth crap for much of anything. Part of him wanted to blame the dragon. That was dangerous territory—and an easy way out. If its magic wasn’t mucking with Daide’s mind, the only explanation left was his friend was a selfish bastard. Recco had been making excuses for him for years, but he was done.
“Maybe it’s both,” the wolf piped up. “Or maybe his brief connection to the dragon scared the guts out of him and amplified his tendency to be over-vigilant.”
A snort blew past Recco’s lips. Over-vigilant didn’t come close to Daide’s compulsive need to micromanage everything. After he rolled onto his other side, his trashed body caught up with him and he was asleep in moments.
THE CRACKLE OF THE PA system barged into the latest in a string of Fellini-esque dreams, and Recco pried his eyes open. Daylight flooded through the porthole, so much light it had to be midday.
“We’re pulling anchor in thirty minutes,” Juan announced. “Seas outside this bay will be rough, so batten down your cabins. If you’re hungry, grab something now.”
Recco swung to a sitting position and planted his feet on the floor, taking stock of his battered body. The two long gashes where Daide had stitched him up burned, and his muscles were still sore. Beyond those items, he felt miles better than he had when sleep hammered him into oblivion.
A quick tap on the door was followed by it opening a crack. Zoe’s bright hair came into view. “Are ye decent, laddie?”
Pleasure ran through him in a warm tide, and he chuckled. “A full retreat to your Celtic roots, eh? Come on in. You’re safe enough. Never did take my long johns off.”
She sidled into the room, hair done up in multiple braids that fell to mid-chest. Her brown eyes sparkled with humor. “Wouldn’t want to offend my maidenly modesty. Feel like grabbing coffee and something quick to eat? The rest of us had breakfast over an hour ago. There’s plenty left.”
Recco slid trousers over his legs and zipped into a light jacket. “No one announced a meal. I’d have heard it.”
“Several of us were still asleep, including Vik and Ketha. Juan didn’t want to wake anyone before he absolutely had to.”
“You were up.” He tugged on his boots and straightened. “Ready.”
“Aye. I’m an early riser. Doesn’t matter what time I went to bed.” Tilting her head to one side, she regarded him and crossed to the sink where she wetted a washcloth. “Come close. There’s a wee bit of blood on your face. It leaked from the gash across your forehead.”
He stepped next to her and bent his head, so she could reach the abrasion easily. He could have taken the cloth from her, but he liked the idea of her touching him. She smelled of cinnamon and amber; he inhaled hungrily as she dabbed gently at the dried blood.
“Better.” She bent around him and rinsed the square of terrycloth, hanging it over the sink’s edge.
Recco circled her shoulders with his arms and held onto her from behind. “I can’t imagine a more welcome visitor.”
She leaned against him, all lean muscle and tight curves. “Och, you Latin types were born with silver tongues.”
“Maybe so, except in this case, I truly meant it. When I heard someone knock, I was afraid it was Daide. We had a blowup last night.”
She turned in his arms, brows drawn into a worried line with a small fissure between them. “I hope it wasn’t over me. He seemed way too pleased when I left the two of you to troll through McMurdo’s lab yesterday afternoon.”
“Wasn’t your imagination. He’ll get over his snit. I hope.”
“So it was about me. Damn.” She pursed her lips into a thin line. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do? Do you know why he doesn’t like me?”
Recco smoothed stray hairs that had escaped her braids over her shoulders and cupped the side of her face in one hand. “It’s not you. He hasn’t approved of any woman I’ve ever taken up with.”
A speculative expression crossed her face, and her eyes shaded to amber. Spots of color splashed across her high cheekbones. “Is it because... Er, does he maybe want you for himself?” She glanced down, long lashes brushing both cheeks as the tint shading her freckled face deepened.
He grazed a thumb across her full lower lip, loving the silky feel of her skin. “No. He’s not gay. Believe me, he wouldn’t have been able to hide something so monumental from me. Not for as long as we’ve been together.”
“What, then?” She tilted her head into his touch and met his gaze, eyes liquid with concern.
“He likes to control things. Way more than anyone else I’ve ever run across.” Recco took a measured breath. “Don’t get me wrong. He’s more than competent, and his instincts are usually decent—unless he’s gotten spun out about some detail that escaped his iron hand.” He hadn’t meant to dive straight into the sea dragon question, but this was a perfect opportunity.
“What about the sea dragon?” Her gaze never wavered.
His eyes widened, and he stammered, “You’re inside my mind.”
She shrugged slightly. “Aye. Saves time. I apologize, though. ’Twasn’t my intention to pry.”
“Can you and some of the other women find out if the sea dragon still has Daide in some kind of thrall?”
“Maybe. Why do you suspect it might?”
“Because his actions yesterday were over-the-top—even for him. I have no idea what he said to you about me and McMurdo. Did he come off as heavy-handed? I realize you don’t know him, but apply the same standards you’d use for anyone.”
“Och aye, he was more than heavy-handed. Draconian comes closer to describing it. He grabbed me, and none too gently, mind you. Told me he’d make my life so miserable I’d wish I’d jumped ship with you.”
A spurt of anger bubbled from Recco’s guts. “He threatened you?”
“Aye.” She hurried on. “Mayhap you’re onto something about the dragon. I’ll round up Ketha and maybe Karin and Aura once we’re underway and see if we can’t figure things out. Did you ask your wolf?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t any help with this particular problem.”
He cradled her against him, wanting to hang onto her forever. Her body nestled close, fitting perfectly. As if they’d been born to be together.
“Breakfast.” Her words were muffled against his chest. “’Tis far harder to eat when we hit rough water. Besides”—she tilted her head back and smiled—“you need food and sleep so your magic can fully recover.”
Evidence of her concern flooded him with feelings he’d forgotten existed. He wanted her to care. Further, he wanted to protect her from every wicked thing in the world.
She untangled her arms from where they’d been wrapped around him. “Come on, a chara.”
He raised a brow. “I can learn Gaelic.”
“It means friend.”
The pleasure warming him rose in a thick tide, and he kissed her forehead. “I’m honored to be your friend.” He laced his fingers in with hers. “You’ll have to teach me words for darling and lover. Afraid the only word I know is Sassenach.”
Zoe laughed. “From Outlander. I loved those books.”
“I did too. Read them on the sly.”
“Too much on the chick lit side? Worried they’d tarnish your manly image?”
“No, I was more afraid Daide would find them and give me a hard time. About all he ever read were scientific journals. I needed a break from time to time.”
Recco pulled the door of his cabin open and stopped dead. Daide stood in front of the door, a hand raised to knock. When he saw Zo
e, his smile faded. “Thought I’d see if you felt like breakfast. It appears you already have company.”
“Always room for one more.” Zoe extended a hand. Daide didn’t clasp it. She dropped it to her side, adding in a pointed tone, “No hard feelings on my side.”
Karin bustled down the hall. “Did I hear the word breakfast? I was a total sloth this morning, and I’m starving. I’d love to join you.”
“We should hurry,” Zoe said. “From Juan’s announcement, we’ll be underway soon.”
Recco brought up the rear as the four of them trotted across the hall and down one flight to the galley and kitchen. Questions charged from one side of his mind to the other. Had he happened to open the door precisely when Daide was poised to knock, or had the other man been listening through the door? It wasn’t the kind of thing he could ask outright without creating a scene. Distrust tightened his stomach into a knot.
The specter of his oldest friend spying on him was so distasteful, he chopped off his line of thought at its roots. He had to be overreacting. Still feeling the aftereffects from the previous day. He tried probing Daide’s mind but found an unyielding wall. Maybe it reflected his lack of magical skill. Presumably Daide was just as magically naïve, and he’d managed to erect an impenetrable ward.
“Oops. I forgot something,” Daide muttered and doubled back about the time they reached the dining room’s swinging doors.
“I’ll lay you a place,” Karin called after his retreating back. Daide didn’t even turn around. She frowned. “What’s up with him?”
Zoe herded them into an otherwise-empty dining room. “Hate to drop another bomb. Is it possible the dragon isn’t dead?”
Karin closed her teeth over her lower lip. “I see where you’re going, and I don’t much care for it. Do you have reason to believe it’s using Daide for a conduit, much as it did before? Is that why he felt so...odd?”
