Abandoned: Bitter Harvest, Book Three

by Ann Gimpel

  Daide tipped his chin and walked out of the auditorium.

  “Feel like a drink or a snack?” Recco asked her.

  “Snack first, so I don’t pitch head down into my whiskey.”

  “It could be arranged. Let’s follow Daide to the galley, and we’ll come up with something. It’s been a long time since I stood over leftover cold breakfast and stuffed it into my mouth.”

  “There might be something hot,” Zoe said. “Didn’t Vik ask someone to get dinner underway?”

  “Now you mention it, he did.”

  Recco tucked a hand under her elbow. “It feels right having you next to me.”

  “Keep the schmaltz coming.” She leaned into him as they walked out of the presentation room, fighting the ship’s motion.

  “Schmaltz isn’t Gaelic,” he protested, laughing.

  “Nay, but German’s a kissing cousin.”

  “Good to know. It’s not schmaltz. I meant it.”

  “You feel pretty damned good next to me too. Before we go there, we need to talk more about Ketha’s plan. I’m hoping she’s laying this part out for Vik and Juan. Do you recall the story about the Hatfields and McCoys?”

  “Sure, from North American television.”

  “It’s a close approximation to how we view our ocean kin. And vice versa. They’d as soon spit on us as talk, and we weren’t much better.”

  “Maybe it’s changed.”

  “Given the Cataclysm, more likely ’tis grown worse.”

  “Whichever way the wind blows, we’ll figure things out.” He held the dining room door for her, wanting to believe his words.

  “Hang onto your optimism. I fear you’ll need it and then some afore we reach the far side of this.”

  Several tables were occupied, mostly with the humans from McMurdo and Arctowski. Poor bastards. The Arctowski bunch had no choice after the Polish research station blew up around them. The McMurdo group could have opted for safety, though, and stayed put.

  Zoe shook her head and leaned close. “We’ll wait to tell them until Viktor and Juan come to a decision. No reason to put them off their feed for naught.”

  Recco followed her into the galley, his mind racing a million directions at once, but always returning to the same place. They had to survive. No matter what it took. He’d be goddamned if a sanctimonious whale or dolphin Shifter would stand between them and safe passage. If they had help to offer, by God, they’d pony up and do the proper thing.

  “Pretty words,” his wolf piped up. “Any idea how to turn them into something more than hot air?”

  Chapter Seventeen: It’s My Ship

  Zoe left the dining room with Recco; they walked up one flight to Deck Three and stopped in the corridor outside their cabins. They’d made small talk over a meal where they ate with one hand and hung onto the table with the other. The ship pitched so abruptly, a few plates had ended up on the floor. At least she’d gotten to know a little bit about the four researchers from McMurdo. Luckily, they were decent sailors, or they’d have been curled into miserable balls in their bunks. She offered a silent prayer to the goddess for ensuring her own stint with seasickness had been short-lived.

  “Interesting folk,” Recco said. “I particularly liked Aidan.”

  “The zoologist?”

  Recco nodded. “The paleontologist—Jennifer—was a bit stuffy. I suppose studying dead things lends itself to a different world view.”

  “Eh, she was probably always reserved. Who we were before we went to college plays a huge role in what disciplines attract us. Beyond that, I’ve been expecting Ketha to show up. Kind of worried she hasn’t.”

  “Do you suppose she caught some flak from Viktor and Juan about our plan?”

  Zoe shrugged. “Let’s head up there and find out.”

  “It’s the right thing to do,” he agreed affably.

  “And the wrong thing would be?” She glanced his way.

  Instead of answering, he stabilized himself against a wall and closed his arms around her. The heat of his mouth on hers stole her breath, and she melted into him, clinging as they fought to remain upright. The ship’s motion forced their bodies against one another. Heat washed through her, and she gripped his high, tight ass. The length of him grew, pressing into her. She wanted to rip his clothes off, touch him, explore him with fingers and mouth and the empty, aching place inside her.

  She was starting to know his kisses, anticipate when he’d nibble or suck or bite. Both of them tasted of the dinner they’d shared washed down with a raw, red wine well on its way to becoming vinegar. The stubble on his cheeks tickled her as he kissed his way down her neck. He pushed clothing aside as he moved to the hollow between her collarbones. She wriggled, spreading her legs to straddle his thigh. The contact with her sensitive center sent her heart into overdrive, and sexual heat shivered through her.

  Zoe laughed. “Damn all these layers of clothes. It’s amazing the Eskimos had any children, bundled against the cold like they must have been.”

  Recco pressed his hips into her and lifted his mouth from the deliciously sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder. “It’s not as if they had to take everything off. A few minor adjustments, and voila.”

  “Maybe for you. Although I can see the allure of skirts. They’re far easier to work around than trousers.”

  “Um-hum.” He jiggled the thigh she was rubbing herself against and pushed a hand between them, inserting it so his fingers cupped her crotch. She writhed against him, the desire for release so urgent she couldn’t think about anything else.

  His cock bucked against her belly, and she cradled a hand around its thick, hard length, stroking fast. They should move out of the hall, but the semi-public aspect added heat to her arousal. He closed his mouth over hers and plunged his tongue inside. She sucked on it, pretending it was the cock twitching and jerking in her fingers.

  Her nipples pebbled, and sensation spilled through her. Without words or direction from her, he knew exactly how to touch her. How hard. How fast. Her hips thrust against his fingers in a rhythm with only one outcome. Sexual waves rioted through her, pushing her upward until orgasm broke over her and she shuddered against him, wanting the exquisite awareness to last forever.

  He stifled a groan, and his cock pulsed against her palm. Panting and straining, they ground their bodies together as their passion peaked and wound down. Recco broke their kiss and smiled at her, still breathing hard. “At first, I wanted to move us somewhere more private, but then—”

  “It didn’t matter,” she finished his sentence. A blush added heat to her already-warm cheeks. “We were worse than a pair of randy teenagers in the back seat of an old jalopy.”

  “I’m sorry. Next time, we’ll find a proper bed. I want to strip you naked and worship you, not imagine what your body looks like. That quick peek I had after Daide’s meltdown wasn’t nearly enough.”

  “I wasn’t complaining.” She grinned because she couldn’t hold her joy inside. “About imagining. It cuts both ways. This”—she squeezed his still-hard cock—“deserves the light of day.”

  Recco snorted. “Right now, it deserves a good cleaning. Damn. I haven’t come in my pants since I was fifteen.”

  The ship yawed, and she grabbed a railing. It brought reality crashing home. “I’ve got to get to the bridge. I was worried about Ketha before, but she should have marched by us.”

  “Not necessarily. This boat has more stairways than whales have baleen.”

  “Now there’s an intriguing analogy.”

  “Have you ever looked inside a whale’s mouth?” He kissed her once more and disentangled himself from their embrace.

  “Can’t say as I have.”

  “Well, there are thousands of strands of baleen. It’s how they filter krill and small fish. Aside from the zoology lecture, would you like me to join you on the bridge?”

  “Yeah. We probably all need to be there if Viktor dug in his heels. And I can envision him doing that.”

/>   “See you soon.” Recco ducked into his cabin.

  Zoe fought her way up three flights to bridge level. Outside Arkady, the storm raged on. Wind howled like a herd of Banshees, and the windows rattled. Each one she passed was coated with spray, making it impossible to see much of anything. The ship labored, sliding from front to back and side to side as it crawled to the crest of waves and then slid into the troughs between them.

  Her chest tight from tension—would the next set of waves unhinge their ability to remain upright?—she lurched through the door and onto the bridge. Ketha stood ramrod straight, knuckles white where she clung to the railing beneath the windows. Her back was to Viktor, which had to be significant. Had things deteriorated to the point she couldn’t even look at her husband?

  On the other side of the bridge, Viktor hung onto the wheel. His expression was carved into grim lines. Juan and Aura huddled to one side, deep in conversation.

  “If you’ve come to have another go at me, don’t bother,” Viktor ground out.

  Zoe tried to stand straight but gave it up for wasted effort. “No one summoned me with telepathy, if that’s what you’re inferring. So long as you brought it up, though, why are you dead set against asking our sea kin for help?”

  Ketha turned around and shook her head. “You won’t come up with any argument I haven’t already tried.”

  “Why don’t any of you have a scrap of faith in me?” Viktor growled. “I know these waters. I can guide Arkady to Invercargill. Might take ten days, but we’ll get there.”

  “Invercargill is only our first stop,” Zoe said. “Do you honestly believe we can get all the way from here to Siberia if the weather doesn’t cooperate a wee bit more than it is?” She crossed to him and planted herself as close as she could get and still have something to hang onto, so she didn’t end up sprawled on her butt.

  “We take it as it comes. Most storms don’t last more than a week. Two at the most. By the time we get to New Zealand’s South Island, we should have smoother waters.”

  “Aye, should.” Zoe lapsed into Gaelic, and then switched back to English. “Sorry, I think better in my native tongue. What you say might be true were this a normal storm, but ’tisn’t. It’s magically driven. I feel it and smell it and taste it, and it ices me to my bones.”

  “Tried to tell him the same thing,” Ketha muttered.

  “Has your raven had aught to say?” Zoe persisted, still staring at Viktor.

  “It’s cut from the same cloth as the rest of you,” he snapped.

  Zoe’s temper surged, and she shook a fist at him. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re part of us now. Unless you wish to sever the bond with your bird, which will leave you in far worse shape than you were as a Vampire. Half a person, forever mourning an ill-conceived, hasty kneejerk reaction.”

  “Enough,” Viktor thundered. “Leave now.”

  “Ye canna order me about.” Zoe faced off against him. Dignity was in short supply when remaining on her feet turned into a moment-to-moment proposition.

  “Fine. Please leave. We’ve nothing more to say to one another.”

  Breath rattled through her teeth. “At least tell me why you’re so dead set against—”

  “It’s a bigger risk than us taking on the seas between here and New Zealand. From what I dragged out of Ketha, your sea-dwelling kin hate you, and the feeling is mutual. I’ll eat my socks if they don’t blame you for the Cataclysm. It probably killed bunches of them and sickened hundreds—or thousands—of others.”

  Fury narrowed her throat. She wanted to hurl insults at Viktor for being so narrowminded. A quick glance at Ketha showed how torn she was. The man she loved wasn’t supporting a decision she’d suffered over.

  Recco bounded into the bridge. The smile on his face vanished fast. “Jesus. What the hell is going on up here?”

  Zoe shook her head and searched for words to punch a hole through Viktor’s mulishness. He’d taken a stand, one hard to back down from and save face.

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from archaeology,” she began, “’tis nature doesn’t make mistakes. Sometimes it takes centuries or even millennia, but every single bird, animal, human, or magical creation is here for a reason. I canna describe how many times I’ve knelt over a scrap of something and puzzled as to why it existed. A few times, years passed afore I had one of those ‘aha’ moments where it became clear.”

  Without giving Viktor a chance to tell her to shut up, she forged on. “We’re at a disadvantage without our libraries detailing Shifter history back to its roots. Our animals know some things, but certainly not everything pertinent. Shifters evolved in two distinct groups for a reason, and if the reason isn’t so we can help one another, then us traveling separate paths for so long makes no sense.”

  “Evil’s had a taste of freedom,” Ketha said in a dull, dead voice that scarcely sounded like her. “More than a taste. The Cataclysm did far more damage than any of us suspected. Meh. We’ve covered this ground.”

  “Aye.” Zoe jumped in. “We were fools to believe whatever’s driving the current run of wickedness would stand by while we sailed ten thousand miles to confront it. Far simpler to cut us off long afore we got anywhere close. We may not see ourselves as worthy adversaries, but we blew up the Cataclysm.”

  “Surely it was more than enough to make every nasty, dirty, evil thing in the world sit up and take notice. And circle their wagons against us,” Aura said. “This isn’t a time to let old hurts stand between us and potential allies.”

  “Because you see it from that viewpoint is no guarantee the whales and dolphins and sea gods will,” Viktor said. He sounded more tired than angry, and it gave Zoe hope.

  Juan walked to where Viktor stood, blond brows raised into question marks. Viktor raked a hand through his thick hair. “Unless these sea creatures can hold back the storms, we’ll have risked alerting them to our presence for nothing.”

  “They can’t stop the storms,” Aura said, “but they can weave their magic in with ours, which means it could extend our power down to the waterline. Maybe it will ease our way. Maybe not. Regardless, it’s a possibility that doesn’t exist right now.”

  “How bulletproof is the ward you built?” Viktor aimed his words at Ketha.

  “Not very, but at least we’ll know if something evil breaches our borders before it gets out of control like it did earlier.”

  “What about the humans?” Juan asked. “Can dark forces borrow their bodies?”

  “Nay. ’Tisn’t like the movies,” Zoe said. “They can be held in thrall, but magic attracts magic. ’Tis why the sea dragon picked Daide. For his magic. The humans are safe enough, so long as the ship doesn’t sink. Naught says their energy can’t become cannon fodder, like happened with the sorcerer on Arctowski.”

  A loud crack blasted her, and one of the bridge’s windows blew inward, followed by a gush of seawater, and then two more. Juan raced to the back wall of the bridge and grabbed a sheet of plywood, wrestling it across the room.

  “Take these to him.” Viktor pointed at a drill sitting in a charging cradle and grabbed a handful of screws.

  Recco scurried forward, drill and screws in hand. “What about caulk?”

  “It’ll take too long.” Juan strained to hold the wood over the broken window frame. “Besides, it won’t set well.”

  Zoe crossed to the broken pane and leaned her weight atop the wood. Waves hammered against it, their strength shocking, and she figured it was only a matter of time before the rest of the dozen windows lining the bridge shattered too. The drill droned as Juan drove screws into the sheet metal surrounding the broken window. Water trickled around the fix-it job once he was done, but waves weren’t spraying through anymore.

  Recco walked the drill back to its cradle and placed the extra screws in a drawer. “We could go back to McMurdo,” he said, “or maybe Ushuaia if we could reach it.”

  “And then what?” Viktor asked.

  “And then we’ll wa
it out the end of the world. I suppose eventually everything will mirror Arctowski, replete with monsters and evil overlords.”

  Juan sent a pointed glance skittering Aura’s way. “It’s almost exactly the same thing you told me.”

  She shrugged. “Does hearing it twice make it feel more true?”

  “Hearing it twice gives me the heebie-jeebies,” he muttered.

  Waves crashed against the wood with a hollow booming. Zoe shivered. It sounded like their death-knell, the bell that tolled for thee.

  Aye, and where’s Hemingway and a nice cuppa when ye have need of them, eh?

  “Your wheel.” Viktor moved from behind the helm, and Juan took his place. He crossed to where Ketha still stood. Water blew between the board and the window casing, wetting her hair. He extended a hand. “You’re getting wet.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be a hell of a lot wetter if we capsize.” Despite her harsh words, she let him lead her away from the glass.

  Zoe hissed out a relieved breath. She’d been worried the window behind Ketha would explode and take her head along with it.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t jump on your idea.” Viktor’s voice carried. “You think I was being bullheaded, but I weighed the options, and you hadn’t offered anything that gave calling the sea Shifters a clear advantage over doing nothing.”

  Ketha skewered him with her golden eyes, a carryover from her wolf form. Some Shifters absorbed their animals’ natures in visible ways. “I can’t force you to do anything,” she said. “And I lack your years of experience at sea.”

  “By the same token, my magic is green and untried. My raven has been giving me twenty kinds of hell, so I’m ready to try it your way. We could turn back, but the seas won’t be any gentler, which is another reason I opted to press forward.”

  “Not very forward.” Juan threw his two cents into the ring. “We’re making three-and-a-half knots.”

  “At least we’re not moving backward. Been there. Done that,” Viktor shot back. He stood easily, compensating for the ship’s motion without apparent effort.