Karin Carson had been relieved the lab on Deck Two was empty. It wasn’t likely to remain that way, so she hurried up, fussing with the controls on the darkfield microscope. Nothing changed on her slide. Not the way she wanted it to, anyway.

“Yeah, right. Why would it? Sheer wishful thinking on my part,” she mumbled.

Dragging herself upright, she moved to a prep area, stabbed her finger with a lancet, and made three more slides. Even though she worked automatically, fatigue dragged at her. A weariness so pervasive it was tough not to curl up in a ball on the floor and close her eyes.

“What did you find?” her wolf asked.

“Not sure,” she hedged not bothering with telepathy. Magic of any kind took energy, a commodity she couldn’t spare right now.

“What do you think you found?” her bondmate pressed. “Must be something, or you wouldn’t be making more of those glass things.”

Instead of answering, she prepped the new slides with different reagents. She’d suspected something was amiss when she hadn’t bounced back from healing the dolphin Shifters’ alpha. It had been significantly more than just healing, though. The creature died, and she’d held onto its spirit with her magic, urging it back to this side of the veil. It had drained her resources down to bedrock, so she hadn’t thought much about it when she didn’t have her usual complement of energy afterward.

Working with Daide, one of two veterinarians aboard Arkady, she’d gone on to cure eight more dolphins, feeling slightly worse after each one. The last dolphin had been two days ago, and she’d expected her depleted energy to stage a recovery. It hadn’t. If she were honest, she felt worse now than she had after they’d finished the dolphin.

Her bondmate had noticed. How could it not have? Because of its urging, she was here in the lab she’d helped set up on Deck Two, assessing what could possibly be wrong. She tamped back a wry grin. Nagging, wheedling, and cajoling came closer than urging. Her wolf had a relentless streak, one of many things she loved about it.

The slides were as ready as they’d ever be. She walked them over to a normal scope, set one on the stage, and bent over the binocular eyepieces. The same dyscrasia she’d seen earlier was even clearer here. It fit with her white count being off the charts high, but what made no sense was how she’d developed what looked like a precancerous anomaly in her blood over a few weeks’ timeframe.

Bodies didn’t operate that way.

Apparently mine did.

“Are you going to tell me?” the wolf demanded.

“Something is wrong with my blood.” Karin straightened from her hunched position, not bothering with the other two slides. They’d contain the same information.

“Can you fix it?” Her wolf punctuated its question with a howl.

She scrunched her eyes shut to rest them and rubbed her temples to ease the headache that rarely let her be.

“Well, can you?” the wolf persisted.

“I don’t know. The dyscrasia—wrongness—has to be a byproduct of magic, but I don’t get it. The dolphins are Shifters too. Their magic should be similar, nothing that would attack me, but it’s the only logical explanation.”

“What is? I’m your bondmate. Why are you making me dig so hard to get anything out of you?”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to. There’s this lethargy, and it drags at me. Makes it hard to think, and then I panic. If I don’t figure this out damned soon, I fear my capacity to reason things through will desert me.”

Yeah, and then I’ll be totally screwed. She kept her last thought to herself, but the wolf probably culled it from her mind.

“What’s the only logical explanation? I get the lethargy part, but you never answered me from before.”

“I absorbed something when I healed the first dolphin shifter. I was far closer to him than the others since I forced his spirit to remain when it would have departed. I patched him back together with magic and cells from my body. It’s impossible to do that without cross-contamination.”

“Tell Ketha,” the wolf urged. “And Recco and Daide. Working together, maybe you can—”

“Not yet,” she cut in. “I appreciate you’re worried, and that you care about me, but we’ll be in Invercargill soon. Goddess only knows what we’ll face there. My problems are trivial by comparison. I’ll dose myself with something and see if I can’t fix this on my own.”

The wolf’s silence was significant. Clearly it saw through her false assurances.

After another glance at the slide, she quickly slotted the next two into place and muttered, “Same story, different verse.” Because Ketha, a microbiologist, and the men would recognize what was on the slides, she ditched them in the biohazard waste bin and marched to the cabinet where they stored their limited supply of pharmaceuticals.

Antibiotics weren’t the answer. Neither was anything else in the cupboard. Maybe one of Invercargill’s hospitals would have a selection of chemotherapy agents or immune modulators. It was possible. Even if the town was in as bad shape as Ushuaia had been, drugs that disappeared from clinics were items like opioids and benzodiazepines. No one wanted chemicals that made you puke and lose your hair.

She bit down hard on her lower lip. A precancerous condition that sprang out of nowhere didn’t bode well. Meant it would progress fast and not be particularly amenable to standard treatment approaches. She’d have to engage her immune system to have a prayer of winning this battle, which meant she had to get her magic back online.

When she assessed the reservoir where her power dwelled, it was just as empty as it had been the day before. Why wasn’t it bouncing back?

If I could figure it out, I’d be able to fix what’s wrong with me.

Ketha trotted into the lab, coffee mug in hand, and stopped abruptly. Dark hair shot with red and gold strands fell in braids to her waist, and her golden eyes—byproduct of her wolf bondmate—narrowed. “Jesus. You look like hell. Are you sick?”

Karin shrugged. “Maybe. I’m sure I’ll be right as rain after another night’s rest.”

Ketha covered the distance between them and splayed the flat of her hand across Karin’s forehead. Before she could duck from beneath Ketha’s touch, a jolt of power rocked her. The other Shifter’s eyes widened. “Holy crap. You’re running a fever. Your blood pressure is dangerously high, and your respiration rate—”

“I already know all those things.” Karin dropped back a couple of steps to avoid Ketha’s questing fingers—or magic.

“If you do, why aren’t you doing something about it?” Ketha set her cup in a holder and crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

“Maybe because doing the wrong thing would be worse than doing nothing.”

“What have you tried so far?”

Karin shook her head. “How about if you let this go for now? I’m sure it’s nothing—”

“Well I’m not. We’re never sick. Maybe you should shift. Your wolf heals faster than you do.”

“If it comes to that, I will.”

Ketha dropped her hands to her sides and angled her head. Her forehead creased into worried lines. “Why haven’t you done it already? It’s our first line of defense.”

Karin turned away and closed the drug cabinet. When she turned back, she pasted a reassuring smile on her face. “I’ll take care of it as soon as my magic’s done recovering.”

“But it’s been two days since you and Daide finished with the dolphins,” Ketha protested.

“Enough.” Karin marshaled what little energy she had into the one word and strode out of the lab. In truth, she didn’t have enough magic to shift—at least she was fairly certain she didn’t. If Ketha kept picking at things, she’d be bound to discover how depleted Karin was. Once it happened, all bets were off, and everyone aboard the ship would be focused on her instead of what they should be thinking about, which was Invercargill.

What would they find there? It was a reasonable bet the natives would pose problems. If any remained. No one had responded to their radio calls. She dragged herself up one flight of stairs and along the corridor to her cabin, wishing she could lock herself inside. So far, Ketha hadn’t followed her, but given time, she would. Hopefully, she wouldn’t round up reinforcements.

Of all the times to come down with a mystery ailment, this wasn’t a very good one. Not that any occasion existed when it wouldn’t be problematic to operate at less than a hundred percent. Karin slumped into the room’s single chair, weariness crashing over her in waves.

She steepled her fingers, pressing the tips together to force a point of concentration. Maybe she was onto something with her incompatible magic theory. Zoe had been right there with her, but Karin had absorbed the dolphin’s essence, shielding it so Leif’s primary form wouldn’t die.

Her wolf was quiet, but she felt it prowling within her. “Do you know when our line diverged from the sea Shifters?”

“What exactly are you asking?”

“Not whatever we argued about that created the schism. It’s not important. Do you know when they took to their sea forms while we stuck to the human ones? Also, when did we abandon a social structure where alphas ran things.”

“Long ago, your primary form would have been mine. All Shifters were animals first, humans second, until the Romans made it dangerous for wolves and coyotes. They were captured and tossed in pits to fight. Hawks and eagles were trapped and forced to hunt.”

Karin frowned. She thought she knew Shifter history, but she’d never heard about this part. “Why wouldn’t we have fought back?”

“When we summoned magic to win contests in the pit—and save our lives—it revealed what we were, and many of our ancestors were hanged or burned.”

“So someone decided we’d be safer in our human bodies. Makes sense.”

The wolf growled. “Like all solutions, some things improved, but others grew worse. We lost a goodly share of our magic during the tradeoff.”

“Which explains why the sea Shifters are more powerful than we are.” Karin mulled it over. “Might also explain why their magic is different. You’d asked what is wrong with me, and I only gave you a partial answer. I’m convinced a disparity between my power and Leif’s created the problem. His magic fought mine, and remnants of it are actively sabotaging my power. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“So, get rid of the remnants. Seems simple enough.”

Karin twisted her mouth into a grimace as she recalled the patchwork quilt she’d created where she wove her power with Leif’s fading energy. He’d been ill for years with parasitic infections and was nearly at the end of his strength, so she’d borrowed liberally from her own magic and used it to shore up his. If she hadn’t, he’d be dead.

But because she had, her own demise stared her in the face. If she couldn’t reverse the process eroding her tissue and organ systems—and damned soon—there’d be nothing left to salvage.

“It’s not simple,” she told her wolf. “This is like an autoimmune disorder where my body is attacking itself. A healthy immune system sorts friend from foe. When I joined with Leif, I confused mine, and it’s turned on me.”

“Can you fix it?” the wolf asked again.

“I don’t know. If I grow much weaker, I won’t be able to do anything.”

“If you’re too depleted to shift, do you want me to break through? I can force a shift.”

Karin shook her head. “I thought about it, and it’s too dangerous for you. If I’m developing the sea Shifters’ pattern, you could end up stuck. Instead of being able to return to the animals’ world, you’d die here, and I won’t do that to you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh but I do. If those dolphins and whales could have returned to a world like yours when they fell ill, they would have. They were stuck here.” She swallowed around a thick spot in her throat. “I love you too much to have you sacrifice yourself.”

“How about if I love you too?” the wolf countered. “This is both our choices, not only yours.”

Karin blinked back tears.

Her door flew open, and Ketha marched inside, face twisted with pain—and anger. She kicked the door shut. “I dug your slides out of the trash. Why didn’t you talk with me?”

“We have bigger problems than me right now.” Karin kept her words simple, mostly because it was all she was capable of. “We’re stopping in Invercargill at least long enough for Recco and Daide to make use of the cetacean institute’s pools to work on the five whale Shifters. It will be a miracle if something doesn’t attack us while we’re there. You need to be planning for contingencies, not worried about me.”

“I will not focus on contingencies while you wither and die on us.” Ketha plopped onto the bunk nearest Karin. “Christ! You’re an MD. I don’t have to interpret what I found on those slides for you. Your white count is astronomical. Your body is destroying itself—”

“I know what’s wrong. At least I believe I do,” Karin protested. “What I’m less certain of is how to neutralize it.”

“Maybe we can get hold of some chemotherapy drugs in Invercargill.”

“Already thought about that. It might slow things down, but it won’t work over the long haul. Immune modulators might, but chances of finding them in Invercargill are almost nil. The parts of Leif I absorbed when I saved him have to stop fighting me. I assumed our physiologies would be compatible, or I’d have made certain to establish a few degrees of separation.”

Ketha shook her head. “You were in full savior mode. I know you, and when you go there, the last thing on your mind is your own safety.”

“Your point?” Karin spoke stiffly.

“Not sure I had one. Can you shift?”

“No. Not enough magic, and before you suggest having my wolf circumvent the problem, I won’t place it at risk.”

“At risk, how?”

Breath rattled through Karin’s teeth. “I already explained this to my bondmate. Do you think the dolphins and whales remained in a poisoned ocean voluntarily? Hell no, they didn’t. They couldn’t return to whatever borderworld they live in, or they would have. If I’m correct, and I’m changing into something more like our sea kin, my wolf could be trapped here and die.”

“I can fight this thing off. I know I can,” the wolf chimed in.

Karin wanted to wrap her arms around its lush pelt and hug it, something she’d never be able to do.

“I heard that.” Ketha’s voice was soft. “Why not give your wolf a chance?” Without waiting for Karin to answer, she continued. “Have you spoken with Leif?”

“Of course not. He was my patient. I took chances that didn’t seem risky at the time, and—”

Ketha waved her to silence. “He might know a way to intervene. Those dolphins haven’t had their human forms long enough for me to get to know any of them, but there could be a healer in the bunch. Their magic is stronger than ours.” She turned her hands palms up. “Worth a shot.”

Karin straightened, horrified by how much energy it took. “It is worth a shot. And if it doesn’t work, I’ll let my wolf shift for us.”

A delighted howl ripped through her.

Ketha placed her hand on Karin’s leg. “I’m going to find Leif now. If he has any ideas, I’ll bring him back here.”

Karin swallowed hard. “Thanks. I’ll throw some cold water on my face. I’m burning up.”

“Take some aspirin or Ibuprofen.” Ketha quirked a brow. “Physician heal thyself.”

Karin smothered a snort. “Awk! Since when did we stoop to quoting scripture? Christians would just as soon burn us as look at us, or have you forgotten?”

“Nothing holy about it. Only a phrase. Back very soon, I hope.” Ketha sprang to her feet and bolted out the door.

Karin struggled upright and tottered to the sink. Cold water on her face and hands helped, and she swallowed three aspirin. She came close to breaking into a litany and telling her wolf how much she loved it, how much its presence and undeviating loyalty had always meant, but it knew. They’d been together for more than two centuries.

Karin rarely told anyone how old she was. In the first place, it didn’t matter. In the second, she feared it would insert artificial distance between herself and the other women she’d ended up with in Ushuaia. Rowana had known, but she was the only one.

And now Ro was dead. She’d died a hideous death in Karin’s arms, racked with pain but absolutely certain it was her time to go.

“Damn, but I hope I can exit with a tenth her grace and style.”

“You are not going anywhere,” the wolf said, steel in its voice.

The sound of running footsteps alerted Karin moments before her door swung inward. A worried-looking Leif burst through with Ketha right behind him. The dolphin shifter was naked and still dripping ocean water. The salt scent of the sea clung to him. Blue-gray hair shrouded his tall, broad-shouldered form to knee level, and he trained sea-blue eyes on Karin.

“Apologies,” he said. “Finding clothes took a backseat to Ketha’s summons.” He placed a palm across Karin’s forehead, and she felt a jolt of rough magic, glass shards and pepper flakes. He moved his hand from her face to her upper back and then her chest across her collarbones. Each place he touched her tingled unpleasantly, but the crippling inertia eased too.

“Well?” Ketha hovered behind him. The door was shut, so presumably she’d closed it.

Leif drew his brows into a thick line and skewered Karin with eyes shaded to gray. “Why didn’t you call me sooner, wolf Shifter?”

“I kept thinking this would improve.”

“Mmph. Would have been far easier to intervene a few days ago. I must summon the other dolphins. This will require all of us.”

“What are you going to do?” Karin and Ketha asked at almost the same time, their words tripping over each other.

“Reclaim the parts within the Shifter doctor that do not belong,” Leif said. “And hope to hell we don’t injure her in the process.” He blew out a tight breath. “This would have been simpler right after it happened, before my essence put down roots trying to displace land Shifter magic.”

“At least it explains why I have no power,” Karin muttered.

Leif leveled his gaze at her. “If we do not intercede, nor will you have a life. Sea Shifter enchantment is trying to convert you, except our two types of magic have grown incompatible over the centuries. Left unchecked, there’s but one way out of this.”

A knock was followed by dolphin shifters filing into the cabin. “We need a bigger space,” one of them said.

“Aye, no room to maneuver in here,” another voice chimed in.

“What in the hell is going on?” Daide yelled from somewhere in the hall.

Karin tried to tell him it was nothing, but her head whirled crazily. It might have been the three aspirin, since she rarely took anything. It might have been so many people crowded into her cabin. It might have been fear she wasn’t going to make it through what lay ahead. Desperate to hang onto a semblance of control, she made a grab for consciousness. Did her damnedest to hang onto it, but it eluded her, and she fell ass over teakettle into a deep, black hole.