Daide held the door for Karin and followed her outside. Wind blasted him in the face. Narrowing his eyes to slits against its onslaught, he zipped his parka all the way up and stuffed his hands into his pockets wishing he’d grabbed a pair of gloves.

Karin ran ahead. He hustled to catch up and followed the tense line of her extended arm. Water boiled around Arkady’s hull, churned to a froth by a circle of Kelpies. In horse form, they’d established a rough circle around the dolphin Shifters and were screaming as only outraged horses could. Daide remembered that sound. He’d heard it often enough when he’d been called to Ushuaia’s ranches to deal with injured equines.

The whales’ fins were visible where they’d erected a barrier beyond the Kelpies to make it difficult for the horses to swim back to shore.

“Are they always black?” he asked Karin. It was an inane question, but the scene spread before him was so surreal, he needed to anchor himself in something simple and non-magical.

“According to the myths,” she replied without turning her attention away from the group. “I’ve only seen one before today.”

Daide counted twenty-two Kelpies. Their long necks adorned with lush manes were visible above the waterline. Foam eddied around them. Was it the remains of the one they’d slain?

A luminance pulsed within the circle. The water smoothed over, and Poseidon shimmered into view with his consort by his side. They stood atop the water as if it were a solid surface. Wonder battled awe and horror as myths collided. Maybe the Christ story was based on something real after all. Daide’s mind was wandering, and he cleared it of everything nonessential.

“Should we call Ketha and the others?” he asked.

“Maybe. I’m in communication with her,” Karin replied. “If things escalate, then yes. Right now, more of us would fall over one another.”

Two of the horses surged toward Poseidon. Lightning flashed from his outstretched fingertips. When it hit home, the horses squealed their outrage but didn’t fall back.

“Enough!” Poseidon thundered. “While you remain in the sea, you are my subjects to command.”

Black light tinged with violet flared around one of the Kelpies. With a grinding, tearing sound, a man formed in its place. Dark hair eddied around his torso, but he wasn’t expending obvious effort to tread water. He tossed his head back and focused pale violet eyes on Poseidon.

“We have never answered to ye.” The man’s English was garbled, his brogue so thick, it took Daide a moment to unscramble it.

Poseidon swept an arm downward; a wave gathered momentum in front of him and crashed over the Kelpie, who laughed. The oddly entrancing musical trill sent chills tripping down Daide’s spine, and understanding crept in.

“It’s how they lure their victims, isn’t it?” he asked Karin.

“Exactly,” she said, still focused intently on the drama unfolding in the water.

One of the horses swam close, and the Kelpie in human form threw a leg across its broad back. Facing Poseidon and Amphitrite, he tilted his chin at a defiant angle. “We require passage on your ship. ’Tis the first we’ve seen since the unfortunate accident that landed us halfway around the world.”

Leif pushed his head above water level. “Why not summon the demon who made you?”

The Kelpie’s laugh developed bitter edges. “Do ye not think we’ve tried? ’Tis always been every god—or, in this case, fiend—for himself, but some things never change. If ’tis a wee bit on the inconvenient side, they forget they ever knew ye.”

Leif snapped his jaws shut. Daide knew what he was thinking since he’d said as much about Poseidon’s conduct during the years of the Cataclysm. One of the other dolphins jumped into the breach. “Doesn’t matter that your god has forsaken you. We will not allow you aboard.”

“Listen and listen well. Your companion is dead,” Amphitrite pointed out in a harsh voice. “If you persist in fighting us, the rest of you will join him.”

The foam that had eddied about the Kelpies clumped together and headed straight toward her. Amphitrite stood tall and barked a command in a language Daide had never heard. The foam did an about-face and made a beeline for one of the horses. It whinnied outrage and pounded the waves with its front hooves. The foam kept coming, surrounding the Kelpie and covering it from its front legs to its neck. When it got to its head, it formed a white shield over its nose and mouth.

The whinnies died to nothing, and the creature thrashed, clearly struggling for breath.

Daide leaned close to Karin. “What the hell did Amphitrite do?”

“Reversal spell. There’s not enough left of the one we killed for it to alter its course once it targeted her. She merely redirected the energy.”

“I will release your companion if you agree to leave,” Amphitrite shouted over the Kelpies’ outraged bellows as they regarded their kinsman.

The herd surrounded the dying Kelpie. The one in human form grasped the mask, attempting to pull it away or break its hold before the creature suffocated.

“Decide now.” Amphitrite glowed like the otherworldly goddess she was. “Or it will be too late.”

The human Kelpie twisted his mouth into a rictus and cursed in Gaelic. “We canna attack this shielding with magic, or ’twill immolate his brain. ’Tis made of the same stuff we are, so there is no way to sort Twraca’s essence from Gwendacal’s. Release Gwendacal, and we shall trouble ye no more.”

Karin nodded once sharply. “They’ve offered up names. It’s a good sign.”

“Why is that?” Daide stared as a blast of green-white magic turned the air sparkling, and the mask covering the Kelpie’s face vanished as if it had never existed. The sharp tang of the sea mingled with a chemical overlay he associated with expended magic.

Gwendacal gasped and choked. Daide leaned forward, willing the horse to breathe. They had elongated airways to accommodate their anatomy, and it didn’t take much to damage them.

Karin grasped his arm. “Not your patient,” she ground out.

“Maybe not,” he countered, “but old habits die hard. I never could stand to see an animal suffer.”

“It’s not an animal.” Karin’s words were deadly quiet. “It only looks like one.”

“Good point.”

Rearing back, Gwendacal pounded the water with his hooves and shook his head from side to side. At least his eyes weren’t rolling back in his head anymore. Baring his squared-off teeth, he lunged toward Amphitrite.

“None of that,” Poseidon snapped. “We made a bargain. Keep your end or be forever shunned by dark and light magic wielders. Make no mistake, word of your perfidy will spread through all worlds until none of them welcome you.”

“Wouldna be far different than ’tis always been,” the human Kelpie snarled. Switching to yet one more language Daide didn’t recognize, it spouted a mix of syllables and horse noises.

The herd turned as a unit and swam toward the nearest shore on the boat’s port side with Poseidon and Amphitrite behind them, skimming over the water’s surface. The whales parted to allow them passage. Leif whistled, followed by a series of bleats and honks. He glanced up at where Daide hung over the railing and said, “We shall be back inside presently.”

“Excellent,” Karin called back. “Way too much food for us to polish off without your help.”

The dolphins slapped the water with their tails and dove, presumably headed for the whales to discuss what had just happened. Daide watched the Kelpie herd swimming. They’d covered perhaps a third of the distance to shore. Poseidon and Amphitrite seemed satisfied because they shimmered into nothingness.

“Do you think we should wait until they’ve made land?” Daide asked, concerned Poseidon had abandoned his post too soon. Perhaps he and Amphitrite knew something they didn’t, but it didn’t pay to take chances.

Karin creased her forehead in thought. “Maybe not all the way, but until they’re a hell of a lot closer than they are right now. We need to make certain they don’t double back.”

Her words mirrored his thoughts. “Back inside, Amphitrite said Kelpies can’t make the sea rough. How do you suppose they accomplished it?”

“I’m not sure. The Cataclysm altered everyone’s magic to some extent, and they’ve had ten years to plan for what they’d do if a ship ever materialized.” Breath steamed from between her teeth. “I’m grateful they left. The Kelpies from myth would have fought to the last horse.”

“Because we killed one of them?”

“Exactly.”

He threaded an arm around her. “Do you suppose we’ll ever escape from evil?”

A corner of her mouth twisted downward. “What a big question, Dr. Vegas. The short answer is no. A far longer one would involve a discussion of evil always being part and parcel of our lives. You can’t have light without dark, so you don’t want to wipe wickedness off the map. If you do, we won’t be long for this world, either.”

Something about her words resonated in his memory. “Ketha told Vik something like that when we were in Ushuaia, before we took on the Cataclysm, didn’t she?”

“She may have. It would make sense since we figured we’d be annihilating Vampirism. They were always the balance point for Shifters.” Karin rolled her eyes. “Never in my most vivid imaginings did I suspect we’d do nothing but face off against enemies after we left Ushuaia.”

“What did you expect?” Daide was genuinely curious.

“Not sure.” She rolled her shoulders back and leaned into the arm he had looped around her. “After we ran into those Vamps in stasis on South Georgia Island, though, I altered my mindset.”

The Kelpies had almost reached land. Daide didn’t think they’d turn around now, so he said, “We can probably go inside. It’s not cold by Antarctica standards, but it’s pretty damned chilly.”

“Yeah. This particular crisis is behind us. Let’s enjoy Aura and Zoe’s wedding day.” She offered him a wry grin. “Wonder if those four from McMurdo are sorry they signed on with the Good Ship Calamity.”

Daide laughed and steered her toward the nearest door. “Haven’t heard that word in years. And I always associated it with Calamity Jane.”

“Aha!” She shook a finger beneath his nose. “Your weakness for Western television shines through once again.”

“What did you used to watch?” He dragged the door open and shepherded them through. The warmth inside was like a balm, as was the absence of wind.

“Mostly old movies. Discontinued television series like Fringe and Warehouse 13. Stuff like that.”

They stopped at the same locker he’d taken the parkas from and left the gear where they’d found it. Viktor had stressed how important that was onboard a ship. Otherwise, gear got misplaced and someone else had to waste a pisspot of time hunting it down.

“Why the paranormal shows?” he asked as he latched the locker.

She smiled, and it lit her copper eyes to their depths. “Always pays to keep an eye on the mortal population. See what they believe, and what they don’t.” She turned to face him. “I’ve always been a paranormal creature. You never even suspected anything magical was more than a child’s pipe dream.”

“If I admit you’re right, will my coyote rise up in rebellion?”

“Why ask her when you could ask me?” his bondmate piped up.

Karin laughed. “I heard that.”

She looked so beautiful and carefree, he cradled her face between his hands and kissed her. Karin wrapped her arms around him, returning his kiss with such enthusiasm warmth spilled through him. Along with lust and heat and need. When her nipples pebbled against his chest, he dragged his mouth from hers.

“If we don’t join the others now, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.” His voice had a low, husky catch in it.

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “So, now I’m a bad influence, eh? You are right, though. Aura and Zoe would never forgive me if I missed drinking toasts to marital bliss.”

“Never is a long time.” He ran his hands along the firm, lean muscles in her back.

“Shifters have long lives and even longer memories. Let’s join the others.” She thrust her hips against his erection. “A short walk will return all that excess blood to your brain.”

“I swore I’d never get hooked up with another medical person.”

Karin arched a brow. “Did the bimbos work out better for you?”

He snorted. “Not really, but they kept me single. You should be pleased you don’t have any fond memories to displace.”

“There wouldn’t have been much in the way of fond memories left once you were turned. Either you’d have had Raphael turn her too, or you’d have fed from her.”

Daide winced at the truth in her words. “There’s not a day that goes by I’m not thankful I’m not a Vampire anymore. I have no idea how I got through those years. Mostly by turning my brain off and living from day to day.”

“Yeah. You can deal with most anything so long as you don’t examine it too minutely. Problem with being a scientist is we’re trained to approach everything in an up close and personal manner.”

He stopped in the corridor outside the dining room. Sounds of merriment drifted from within. “Are you ever sorry we left Ushuaia?”

“Sure. Sometimes. We were rebuilding something, and it was a comfort zone, but we didn’t have any choice.”

“We didn’t know it at the time,” he reminded her.

“True enough. But if we’d stayed, by the time we realized Armageddon had us in its gunsights, it would have been too late to launch effective countermeasures.”

His smile faded, replaced by a solemnity to match hers. “I’ve heard you refer to the goddess. Do you see her hand in our journey?”

“If the question is do I think something bigger than us guides our actions, the answer is yes. None of us questioned the decision to sail away in Arkady to see what was left of Earth after the Cataclysm.”

“Backtracking a few steps,” he cut in. “We weren’t certain we’d defeated the Cataclysm in its entirety, and it appears we didn’t.”

The dining room door flew open, framing Zoe and Aura. “We thought we heard you out here,” Aura said.

“Come on in.” Zoe motioned. “The toasts are about to begin.”

“Are the sea Shifters back?” Karin asked.

“Aye.” Zoe smiled. “Poseidon and his consort too.”

“Only ones missing were you.” Aura looked askance at them.

Recco joined Zoe and Aura. “There you are.” He elbowed Daide. “How long does a man have to wait for his best friend on his wedding day?”

“If we hadn’t been interrupted by Kelpies”—Daide defended his absence—“I’d never have left at all. There’s cake, remember?”

“Indeed I do.” Recco laughed. “Never could keep anything sweet around with you in the house.”

Daide followed the others into the dining room. As he gazed about the room, he was struck by a sense of coming home. These people were his family. The tribe he’d been cheated out of as a child. For long years, it had been him and Recco, but they weren’t alone any longer.

“Where would you like to sit?” he asked Karin.

She gestured at a table with Tessa, Moira, Becca, and two of the McMurdo scientists. He pulled out a chair for her and said, “Back in a moment with libations.”

Some thoughtful soul had dragged two crates of the liquor they’d appropriated in Invercargill over by the table that held the cake. Squatting, he looked through the boxes. One held champagne, the other whiskey. The first was more appropriate for a wedding, but after what they’d just experienced, he grabbed a whiskey bottle, noting with pleasure it was thirty-year-old single malt scotch. He grinned to himself. If they were going to steal liquor, no reason not to take the best they could find. He hadn’t been part of that particular shore party, but they’d done a most excellent job.

He cracked the seal and went in search of something to drink it out of besides the bottle. Boris met him in the galley doorway carrying a tray of tumblers. He glanced at the bottle and nodded approval. “Appears I’m timely with the glassware, eh?”

“More than timely. How about if you set that tray down over by the cake?” He scooped a glass off the tray and poured it half-full, inhaling the rich scents of oak and burnt cork.

Daide turned to face the room and raised his glass and his voice so everyone could hear him. “I propose a toast to Recco and Zoe, and to Juan and Aura. May their marriages bring them much joy.”

After a chorus of “to the newlyweds” and “to Recco and Zoe and Juan and Aura,” Daide banged on his glass with a knife. “I’m not quite done,” he announced. “The toast was a start, but no one knows Recco better than I, and I’m going to tell you a story about him.”

Recco groaned. “Aw crap, amigo. On my wedding day? You’re going to roast me?”

“What better time? I’m hoping Vik will have a tale about Juan, and the women can tattle on Aura and Zoe.”

The room erupted into laughter.

Poseidon got to his feet from where he’d been sitting near the front of the room. Turning to face them, he raised his hands. “Before you begin, I have a few things to say. First off, congratulations to the couples who’ve chosen to join their lives. It’s always auspicious when magic marries magic. Keeps the strain strong.”

Amphitrite walked to his side and looped a hand around his arm. Bending close, it looked like she whispered something into his ear. Poseidon didn’t even look her way before he went on. “Once you’ve finished the festivities, you must return to points south. It could be Invercargill or Ushuaia or Christchurch. Or it doesn’t have to be the ruins of an urban area at all—”

“Hold on a minute, mate.” Viktor loped in front of Poseidon. “Last I checked, I determine where Arkady sails, and I do that with input from all aboard. Your opinion is noted, but it’s only one opinion. If the majority do not agree—”

The staff from earlier materialized in the sea king’s hand, and he thumped it on the deck. “Stop before I turn you into a fish—or kill you on the spot. It’s rude to interrupt, but inexcusable when the one speaking is a god.”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “Fine. Say what you will, and then leave my ship.”

“Sail where you choose, but my sea Shifters and I will not be part of your ill-conceived plan to take on evil in the northlands. It’s a fool’s errand, and—”

“You lost your right to speak for me when you abandoned us,” Leif thundered from the far side of the room. He crossed it in a few long strides and stood shoulder to shoulder with Viktor.

“We will follow Leif,” the lead whale announced.

“You don’t have that choice.” Poseidon stood straight and brought his staff down again. “You are my subjects.”

“Once we followed you out of loyalty,” Leif pointed out. “That loyalty died when you forsook us.”

An indecipherable expression, part sorrow, part resignation, and perhaps part disgust, flickered across Amphitrite’s patrician features. Her figure took on an indistinct aspect, the air glistening in myriad colors before she faded from sight.

Poseidon did glance her way then, or at the space where she’d stood. Surprise etched into his high forehead, but he tilted his chin and said, “You’ve barely scratched the surface of the evil set loose by the Cataclysm.” He looked straight at Leif. “You blame us for not helping you. We weren’t strong enough. We came as soon as we could once your land kin aimed a blow at evil.”

Leif shook his head. “I have a hard time believing that. Maybe your ability to travel around the globe was truncated, but you didn’t even assist the sea Shifters in your immediate vicinity.” He fisted a hand and brought it down on a nearby table. “None of that matters. If you won’t help, leave.”

“Leave” echoed around the dining room as all the sea Shifters chanted the single word over and over again.

“There will be a time you regret your decision.” Poseidon’s words held a pointed edge right before he left in a flash of light so bright Daide squeezed his eyes shut.

Leif turned to face the room. “I apologize for the sea god. Please, let’s get on with the roasts and toasts. In truth, we severed our ties with Poseidon long ago, he just didn’t realize it.”

The din of conversation rose once more, and Daide elevated his glass. He wanted to talk with Karin. The small vertical line between her brows was back, which meant she didn’t interpret the sea god’s exit as anything good, but that conversation would have to wait.

“Attention, everyone!” he shouted, and eyes turned his way. “Let me tell you about Recco and the whale. None of our current company,” he amended quickly. “This was Recco’s first whale patient, and he damn near drowned.”

“Ha!” one of the whale Shifters cut in. “Bet the whale did it on purpose.”

“I always thought so, but the whale was damned closemouthed about its intentions.” Recco grinned and motioned for Daide to keep talking.

“We were fresh out of vet school,” Daide said. “Had just hung out our shingle, and we got a call from the Cetacean Institute in Buenos Aires...”