Daide swept an arm beneath Karin’s knees and carried her up the gangway. Viktor and Ketha trudged behind him. Juan and Recco were bent over the anchor housing. “I assume we’re leaving?” Juan glanced over one shoulder at Viktor.

“Good guess, mate. I’ll hit the bridge and set a course.”

“I’ll join you once I’m done here. Zoe and Aura are whipping up something for a late supper,” Juan said and got to his feet.

“Maybe an hour before it’s ready?” Daide asked.

“Yeah. Is she all right?” Recco strode to where Daide stood with Karin cradled protectively against his chest.

“She will be.” He offered a crooked smile. “She’s like a damn Valkyrie. Doesn’t know when to quit.”

The air thickened with the salty tang of sea Shifter power, and Leif shimmered into view, water sluicing off his naked form. “Dinner in an hour?”

Juan nodded. “Love to see all of you inside.”

“We’ll be there. I’ll let everyone know.” Striding to the rail, Leif dove cleanly back into the ocean.

Karin wriggled in Daide’s arms and cracked one eye open. “Maybe I only wanted a free ride up the stairs.”

“Using me for my muscles, eh?”

“I’ll never tell.” She opened the other eye and winked.

Daide pulled her closer. “You can use me for whatever you need, wench. I’ll always be here for you.”

“Best watch it. I’ll hold you to those words.” Love flowed from her in waves, and he soaked them up.

Ketha stopped where they stood and smoothed tangles away from Karin’s face. “Thanks for waiting for us.”

“No thanks needed. No. Wait. Scratch that. I want to hear everything. How you ended up back in your human form. Where your wolf is. Why it took you so long to show up on the beach. All of it.”

Ketha laughed. “Same old pushy bitch. Except not quite so old anymore. That faery did a number on you.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing she stopped at three kisses?” Karin arched a brow, and Daide noticed they’d darkened, as had her hair. Where it had been snow-white, now thick dark streaks ran through it, and it was continuing to alter as she lay in his arms.

“How about a shower and clean clothes?” Daide asked. She’d always be beautiful to him, but words like that required privacy.

Karin thrashed in his arms. “Put me down. I can walk.”

He shook his head. “Not a chance. You’ll get a thorough examination, madam physician. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be practicing good medicine.”

“Be sure not to miss anything.” Recco punched him in the arm and took off for the inside of the ship.

“See you at supper, mates.” Viktor started up an outside stairwell with Ketha beside him.

Daide shouldered through a door and down the corridor leading to their cabins. They’d been spending most of their time in hers since it was larger, so he stopped in front of it and sent a jot of magic to open the door. He walked through and kicked it shut. Anticipation about being alone with her kindled a fire that raced along his nerves like quicksilver. Laying her gently on her bed, he ran his hands down the length of her body.

She made a sound suspiciously like a giggle. “If you’re going to palpate for injuries, the place you should be looking is where my magic lives.”

It was too good an invitation to bypass, so he dropped a hand atop the vee between her legs. “You must mean here.”

The giggle turned into a laugh, and she gripped his hand with hers, holding it in place. “Since we’re showering anyway...”

“We may as well make it worthwhile?” He levered her boots off.

“Something like that.” She flipped a clump of hair in front of her eyes, studying the darkening strands. “Son of a bitch. Ketha wasn’t kidding.”

“I love you. What color your hair is doesn’t matter a whit.”

“Someone taught you well.”

“I mean it. I’m enchanted and humbled by your mind and your power and your courage. Those are the things that last. The things that matter.”

He stripped off her socks and went to work unzipping her jacket and sliding it off her shoulders. “What was that about faeries and dryads and kisses?” Bending, he kissed her nose.

Karin pushed to a sit and tugged her top over her head, followed by the layer beneath. “Sure you want to talk?” Her copper eyes glittered with heat, and her naked breasts, tipped with pebbled nipples, stole his breath.

Before he fell into the lust-laden magic they created together, he said, “Quick version, please.”

“Fair enough. Kisses from tree spirits—dryads—make you younger. No one’s certain how many years one kiss equals. It seems to vary depending on how strong magic runs in the one who kissed you.”

“So, the green faery was a dryad?”

“No, but they’re related in the magical world. Sheesh. Before I know it, you’ll be asking for magical genealogy charts.” She glanced at his still fully clad form. “Get those clothes off. Now.”

“Is that a technique you used on your patients?” He grinned.

“Nope. They were naked by the time I got into the exam room. At least the part I needed to look at was. Clothes?”

Daide toed his boots off, followed by damp socks. He hated to put even a centimeter more distance between them, but in the interest of expediency, he stood to zip out of his upper layers. Heat from Karin’s gaze seared him as he removed enough clothes to bare his torso.

“By the goddess, you are one gorgeous man,” she murmured and went to work unfastening her pants and sliding them down her legs.

Daide pushed his trousers aside, working them over a full-blown erection. His shorts followed them, and he stepped out of the pile of clothing.

“You’re stunning.” He let his gaze slide from her face to her shoulders to her breasts and downward.

“Are you only planning on looking?”

“Maybe. What’d you have in mind?” he teased through a throat thick with lust and need.

She ran her fingertips down her breasts and stomach until she reached the spiky mat of tight curls guarding the entrance to her body. Daide’s heart slammed against his chest, and his breath came fast. His cock grew even harder, although he didn’t see how it was possible.

When she began to rub herself, arching her back and moaning softly, he surged between her legs, pushing them wider apart. Batting her hand aside, he replaced it with his cock, swirling the head in long circles from her nub to the opening to her vault and back again.

Her fluids mingled with his as they tantalized one another. He longed to plunge into her, deep and fast. She wanted him there, but they were building desire. She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his hips, and pinched her nipples. Beneath him, her hips bucked and her body writhed.

“What do you want?”

He almost couldn’t get the words out. He also didn’t know if he could resist until she begged him to fuck her. They’d played this game before. Sometimes, she folded first. Sometimes, he did. His cock shuddered in the hand he had wrapped around it.

Her back arched, and she thrashed her head from side to side. “Now.” She groaned low in her throat.

Stoked he’d won, Daide said, “What was that?”

Karin’s copper eyes flashed open, liquid with wanting him. “Do me.”

He wasn’t strong enough to resist, or maybe she’d seeded her words with compulsion. Didn’t matter. He lined his cock up with her hot, slick opening and buried himself to the hilt. Heat surrounded him, tantalizing, enticing, impossible to withstand. He withdrew and heaved into her, every nerve alive with the contact.

Her vault quivered around him, and he slid his hands beneath her, cupping her ass and increasing the contact between her nub and his pubic bone. She ground herself against him; he pushed back, and she dissolved around him in a flood of heat. Her nipples were copper points and her chest and stomach mottled with a lovely rose color.

Daide breathed, holding himself back until he made her come again. Once her spasms faded, he dragged his cock from her body and barked, “Turn over.”

“Damn if you didn’t sound like a coyote.” Karin smiled, soft and languid, and flipped onto her hands and knees.

The view of her sex framed with dark curls heated his blood to molten, and he thrust back into her. Reaching around, he found her swollen nub and rubbed it fast and hard while he plumbed her. He lost himself in sex with Karin. Transported to another plane where sensation ruled, he gave in to it.

His balls snugged against his body, more than ready, but he rode a ragged edge until her vault gripped his shaft in rhythmic contractions. One more thrust and he let go of any semblance of control. Semen jetted from him in pleasure so intense he never wanted it to end.

Gasping, panting, grinding their bodies together, they ended up in a tangled heap on her bunk. “I’d love to stay here for hours, have another go at that hunky body of yours”—Karin wriggled out from under him—“but if we don’t hurry, we’ll miss dinner.”

“I could make us plates.” He stroked her back, loving the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips.

“But then we’d miss hearing about Ketha. We’d find out eventually, but aren’t you curious?”

He was. Events had happened so fast once they’d spied Viktor on the beach, he hadn’t had an opportunity to think about much beyond first surviving and then making love with the woman who meant everything to him.

“Come on.” She jumped off the bunk and crooked a finger. “If you hurry, I’ll wash your back.”

“Now, there’s an offer.” He hurried after her into the bathroom. “How about my dick? Will you wash it too?”

“Don’t tempt me, or we’ll never get to dinner.” She flipped on the taps.

He closed the bathroom door to keep both heat and water inside.

A quarter hour later, they trotted smartly out of her cabin and down one flight to the dining room. Karin’s hair, almost completely black now, streamed down her back in damp curls. He held the door for her and followed her into a room rich with the scents of food and drink.

“There you are.” Ketha rose and smiled. “Grab yourself some supper. I was waiting for you before I began.”

Daide shouldered into the galley, holding the door for Karin. She loaded plates for them, and he poured glasses of a credible red wine. They’d located several crates of Cabernet, Shiraz, and Merlot in Invercargill, wines that tended to improve with age.

“Ready?” she asked. “It was good of Ketha to wait for us, since we’re late.”

“We’re like newlyweds,” he countered. “Everyone expects us to be late.”

Karin snorted and grinned. “Is that a roundabout marriage proposal?”

He set the wine down and crossed to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “No, it’s a direct one. Will you be my wife?”

Her grin shaded to a shy smile. “I’d be honored. We need to get moving, though. I bet everyone’s dog tired and just waiting on Ketha before they fall on their faces in bed.”

“Sure. I’ll grab us some utensils.”

Happiness swept through him until his heart cracked open with it. Karin, his Karin, had promised herself to him. He dropped forks and knives into a pocket, snapped up the wine, and followed her to a pair of empty seats along one wall.

Ketha straightened from where she’d been lounging against Viktor. “I’ll be as brief as I can,” she began. “Everyone is tired, including me. When I watched Karin bartering with the green faery, it reminded me how much faeries love a good bargain. I conferred with my wolf, and we came up with a plan.”

She took a sip from a glass Viktor offered her and went on. “Our plan was contingent upon the faery folk wanting to return to the Highlands. It’s always been their home, and they’d never have ended up Ceridwen’s minions under normal circumstances.

“Turns out that hunch was spot on. They jumped at a chance to go home. Not only did it get them out from beneath Ceridwen’s thumb, but the Fae as well. The reason the faeries knew the location of the second pathway was because they were the ones who constructed it.”

Ketha rolled her eyes. “The Fae are famous for taking full credit when what they actually did was act as overseers.”

“You’re wandering, sweetie,” Aura said from a seat nearby.

“So I am. In truth, it’s a wonder I can string two words together, let alone something as complex as what happened.”

“I’m not trying to steal your thunder”—Viktor cast a loving glance at his wife—“but I was there too.”

“Be my guest.” Ketha smiled warmly.

“We had the makings of a bargain.” Viktor picked up the threads of their tale. “The faeries wanted to return home, and we needed a way to separate Ketha from her wolf.” He paused, glancing around the room.

From nearby, Juan muttered, “Sailors love spinning yarns.”

Aura elbowed him to silence.

“I’m not as clear on this next part,” Viktor went on, “so any of you Shifters jump in if I blunder too badly. Turns out the borderworlds are arranged in something akin to spokes on a wheel. Once you’re on one, it’s not nearly as challenging to get to another as it is to return to Earth.”

“My wolf agreed to escort the faeries back to the Highlands,” Ketha said. “Provided they stopped in the animals’ world long enough for my wolf’s magic to recharge.”

“But it had to be free to do so,” Viktor chimed in.

Daide inhaled briskly. “Smooth,” he whispered to Karin.

“It would certainly have motivated the faeries to lure Ketha from the wolf,” Karin agreed, also in whispers.

“We’ve pretty much covered it,” Ketha said. “Turns out the faeries were able to break the enchantment holding me within my wolf easily. Didn’t even have to think about it, which makes me believe such a thing has happened before.

“Once I was human, my wolf herded them through a gateway of its making to the animals’ borderworld.”

“Has it returned?” Karin asked.

Ketha tilted her head, probably scanning the place her bondmate dwelt. “No. Wait a minute. It just did. Hang on.”

Wonder blossomed on Ketha’s face. Daide leaned forward, anxious to hear how the wolf’s journey had gone.

“Exceptional news!” Ketha danced a jig in place. “They’re back in the Highlands, but they offered to help when we face off against the dark portal on Wrangel Island.”

“Wonderful news!” Leif fist pumped the air from where he and the other sea Shifters sat.

“How will they reach us?” Viktor asked.

“How else?” Ketha smiled broadly. “The bond animals will escort them when the time comes.”

Daide’s coyote yipped, announcing its return and sounding pleased with itself. “You did a good day’s work,” Daide told it.

“Not only good. Inspired. Superb. Dazzling.” More yips punctuated its series of superlatives, and Daide laughed.

“What?” Karin turned her gaze his way.

“My bondmate feeling its oats.”

“My wolf’s singing the same song, but they deserve all the glory on this one.”

“They do, indeed.” Daide laced his fingers with hers.

“Anyway, it’s why we didn’t show up with the rest of you,” Viktor said.

“Sorry we didn’t tell anyone, but things unfolded fast,” Ketha added. “One of those last minute, desperate gambits where once you’ve grabbed greased lightning, all you can do is hang on.”

“I’m headed back to the bridge,” Viktor said. “I hate leaving it unmanned. Same watch schedule is in play, so I’m planning on one of you joining me as soon as you’re done eating.”

“That would be me.” Ted waved from the far side of the room. “I’m on it, captain, sir.”

“You’d better be.” Viktor narrowed his green eyes. “Keelhauled at dawn if you fail to show.” Laughing, he strode out of the room.

“Bet he would have liked sailing in the 1800s,” Daide said.

“You have no idea,” Juan called from one table over. He directed his next words at Ted. “Never found any humans on Malaita, huh?”

Ted shook his head. “If they were there, they remained well-hidden.”

“Probably in their best interest. I bet Ceridwen shanghaied a few before they went to ground,” Aura spoke up.

Daide turned to his meal, eating methodically. The fresh pork was succulent, and he savored it. “What do you think?” he asked Karin.

“About?” She drained what was left of her wine.

He shrugged. “Any of this.”

Her expression turned serious. “We got lucky. Again.”

“It’s happened a lot.”

“It has,” she agreed. “So many times, I’m beginning to think we have help.”

“What do you mean?”

“Earth wants to survive, to endure. When we beat back the Cataclysm in Ushuaia, it must have noticed, as did whatever gods and goddesses are tasked with caring for it.”

Daide rolled the idea around. He’d never been religious or even particularly spiritual, but the concept of divine assistance—no matter how it manifested—was appealing to him.

He tapped her glass. “Would you like a refill?”

“Sure, if we’re going to be here for a while.”

Daide got up and took both empty glasses into the galley. Recco was there, doing the same thing.

“You’re looking unusually happy,” Recco observed.

“Karin agreed to be my wife.” When he said wife, joy bubbled through him in a hot rush of delight.

Recco broke into a grin. “But that’s wonderful news.” Before Daide could intuit what he was about—or stop him—Recco dashed to the galley door, swung it open, and yelled, “Hey, everyone. Daide and Karin are getting married.”

Hoots, whistles, and shouts of congratulations and best wishes rose from the dining room. Daide’s face heated. “Christ, Recco. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh but I did. By the time you got around to letting people know, we’d have been sailing past Russia. I get to be best man, right?”

“Who else?”

“That’s my amigo.” Recco sauntered out of the galley, almost as pleased with himself as Daide’s coyote had been.

Daide grabbed the wine tumblers and pushed through a crowd that had gathered around Karin. Catching her eye, he mouthed, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she mouthed back.

He passed her glass to Aura, who gave it to Ketha, who handed it off to Karin.

“A toast!” Ketha raised her clear, fine voice.

“Toast. Toast,” echoed through the room.

“Here’s to Karin and Daide,” she said. “And to all of us. As long as we believe in ourselves, we’ll prevail.”

“Karin and Daide,” and “Prevail,” traveled around the room as glasses clinked together.

“We may not drink”—Leif was on his feet—“but we share your sentiments. I have nothing but hope for our future.”

Applause rose, swelling through the dining room.

Daide gazed at the sea of merry faces. These people were his family. The tribe he’d been cheated out of as a child. And Karin would be his wife. No matter what the future held, he’d make the most out of every single moment.

Karin joined him, standing by his side. “You’re looking thoughtful.”

“Just happy, darling.”

“Me too.” Karin tapped her glass against his. “To us.”

“To us.” He drank deep right before he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her.

* * * *

YOU’VE REACHED THE end of Betrayed. Read on for a sample of Redeemed, last of the Bitter Harvest books. It will be along in a few weeks.

About the Author:

Ann Gimpel is a USA Today bestselling author. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in several webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. Once upon a time, she nurtured clients. Now she nurtures dark, gritty fantasy stories that push hard against reality. When she’s not writing, she’s in the backcountry getting down and dirty with her camera. She’s published over fifty books to date, with several more planned for 2018 and beyond. A husband, grown children, grandchildren, and wolf hybrids round out her family.

Keep up with her at or

If you enjoyed what you read, get in line for special offers and pre-release special reads.

Book Description: Redeemed

Leif, alpha for the few remaining Sea Shifters, doesn’t expect to survive their battle against evil pouring through a fissure in the Siberian Arctic. Not exactly indifferent about the topic, he’s been playing fast and loose with death for years. Plagued by a poisoned ocean, treacherous sea gods, illness, and bad bargains, he’s learned to roll with the punches. Laying aside ancient antagonism, he joined a small group of land Shifters, pledging both his help and that of his pod.

A vulture Shifter, Moira was trapped in Ushuaia for a decade. Life on Arkady, a small polar cruise ship, has its challenges, but at least she’s been free to fight back. The worst parts about her stint in Ushuaia were sneaking around hiding from Vampires and not having enough magic to shift, courtesy of short rations and toxic air.

Leif is drawn to Moira, but keeps his distance. Sea Shifters don’t mate with their land cousins—ever. Moira notices him looking her way often enough, she wonders why. He’s damned attractive, but he spends most of his time as a dolphin. Besides, they have their hands more than full. The closer they get to Siberia, the more adversaries block their way. No time for love, there’s barely time to breathe as they wend their way through a volatile obstacle field.

Who will stand with them?

Who’s lurking on the sidelines, plotting sabotage at every turn?

Chapter One: Magic Under Fire

Leif swam lazily next to Arkady with his dolphin pod spread around him. He could have moved twice as fast as the ship, and then some, but he couldn’t keep up that pace all day, every day. Four of five whales paddled nearby. They’d rendezvous with the fifth when they were closer to the Siberian Arctic. Two-and-a-half days had passed since Ketha’s transformation back to her human body, and they’d just crossed the equator. Normally temperate, the central Pacific was far colder than he’d expected, but it went along with the weather as a whole being chilly and unsettled. Nothing like Antarctica or New Zealand, but different enough for him to suspect Earth would never fully recover from the Cataclysm’s onslaught.

Times like these, though, when he cut cleanly through water that was clear of toxins the Cataclysm had pumped out for ten years, the simple joy of movement filled him with hope.

And then reality intruded.

They were so few. Fourteen sea Shifters. Fifteen land Shifters. Nine humans. An unknown number of the fair folk had promised their aid, but who knew how long their memories were? Poseidon, god of the seas, had ordered him and his sea Shifters to halt their northward journey. Leif defied him, a decision cutting them off from a potential source of aid. He slapped the water with his tail. In his secret places he was nearly certain his liege had switched sides, but he had no proof. Only instincts honed over his five-hundred-year lifespan.

Leif had stopped trusting Poseidon long before his surprising edict to turn the ship around. The sea god, along with his consort, Amphitrite, had stood by and done nothing while nearly all the sea Shifters died, victims of poison spread by the Cataclysm. Nothing much worse than the song of a dying whale. Multiply it by a thousand or more, and his soul was permanently riddled by sorrow.

Perhaps whale dirges were the lynchpin that had been Poseidon’s undoing. If he’d opened his magic to darkness, evil may have blotted out the haunting laments.

Leif was nearly dead himself when the land Shifters aboard Arkady had reached out to them. They had no idea how desperate their plight was, but once they found out, two veterinarians had worked like hell to cure the parasitic infestations choking the life out of them.

Leif exhaled in a shower of salty water. He felt better than he had in a very long time. The crippling pain that used to soak up all his attention was gone, and he felt like cavorting in the surf. If he’d been in his human body, he’d have shaken his head. Being in the water at all was an indulgence, but he’d herded his group into the sea to take a break from endless battle planning going on throughout the ship.

They were at least two weeks away from Wrangel Island, their objective in the Arctic, but he agreed with Viktor, Arkady’s captain and a raven Shifter, that they needed to leverage every advantage they could.

“What do you think will happen next?” Lewis, another dolphin Shifter, swam close enough to talk. Their vocal chords were close enough to human, they didn’t require telepathy to communicate.

“After we reach the Arctic?” Leif focused one laterally placed eye on the other dolphin.

Lewis sputtered around a mouthful of briny foam. “You actually believe whoever’s masterminding this isn’t going to strike long before we get that far?”

Leif’s small, artificial window of peace frittered to nothing. “If the ship’s journey to date is any indication, I’m surprised we haven’t run into some other atrocity. What’s it been? Nearly three days since we left the Solomons. Three days of harmony, tranquility, goodwill—”

Lewis batted him with a flipper. “Spare me your cynicism.” He shook himself and water flew everywhere. “I’m apprehensive. I like to have backup plans.”

“Rather difficult to finesse when we have no idea what will crawl out of the ether next,” Leif countered. “I don’t expect any more Kelpies, but beyond that, the field is wide open. For all we know, the Cataclysm spawned some new breed of monster we have yet to meet.”

“Aren’t you Mr. Cheerful?”

“You’re who brought this up,” Leif countered. “You are right about one thing, though. Playtime is over. Spread the word, and I’ll see everyone back on the ship.”

“If I spend too much more time in my human body, my skin will shrivel,” Lewis groused.

Leif didn’t answer. Hundreds of years ago, sea Shifters and their land kin had played by the same rules. Land Shifters always had an easier time hiding their dual natures, though. Far simpler to conceal themselves in a forest, turn into a wolf—or a coyote or a bird—and join a local pack than it was to swim into the ocean and shift in plain sight of boats and fishermen. The rise of the church meant his kind faced persecution. Torture. Hangings. Burnings. So they’d taken to the sea for greater and greater chunks of time.

When the Cataclysm hit, many hadn’t shifted to their human forms in decades. And then there’d been their ill-conceived bargain with Witches to augment their magic in exchange for stud service. Who’d have guessed it would turn into a death sentence for the Shifter unlucky enough to be picked as a sperm donor?

“I thought you said play time was over.” Lewis prodded him with a flipper.

“It is. I got lost thinking about how we ended up like we did.”

“Not much value in that. It’s a bloody miracle any of us survived.” Magic turned the air around him shimmery and iridescent.

Leif summoned his own power and shifted right along with the other dolphin. They ended up dripping water on the broad quarterdeck. Viktor kept the surface clean enough to eat from, but he’d never complained about their sloppy transition from sea to ship. The damp, marine air glowed and pulsed as the other dolphins and four whales shucked their ocean-going bodies.

All the dolphins had names beginning with “L” for convenience. Their dolphin names would have been impossible for humans to pronounce. At the time Leif proposed that small concession—since they had a better chance passing for human if they didn’t lapse into sea speech—the whales told him to stuff it. A corner of his mouth twitched. That little episode occurred at least a century before the Cataclysm. He’d always thought it strange none of the whales wrestled him for the alpha position, but none ever had.

“We were hoping for a few more hours in the water.” One of the whales pushed past a pair of dolphins and planted himself in front of Leif. He stood at least six inches taller and was impossibly broad. Fair hair was already beginning to curl as water dribbled down his body.

“Maybe we can catch some surf time tomorrow.” Leif latched onto the whale’s dark-eyed gaze, staring him down.

The whale twisted water out of his thick locks. “This has the stink of a meeting. Where and when?”

“You’re assuming the one taking place round the clock on the bridge ended,” Lynda broke in. Another dolphin shifter, dark hair eddied around her framing high cheekbones and violet eyes.

“The bridge is as good a guess as any location,” Leif concurred. “Say half an hour?”

The whoosh of wings caught the edges of his sensitive hearing. He looked up in time to see a good-sized, black vulture swoop from one of the upper decks. It dive-bombed their group, cawing like a mad thing.

Lynda snorted laughter. “She gets to play. It’s good for us.”

The vulture made another pass, flying low and veering off scant moments before impact. Leif made a grab for her, but she tossed her tail as she made a ninety-degree turn. “Moira!” he called.

“Who else?” she countered in telepathy. Unlike him, her vocal chords weren’t conducive to speech when in shifted form.

Ketha bustled out one of Arkady’s many doors and onto the broad, flat deck that took up a portion of Deck Three. Dark hair shot with red and gold hung loose to her waist and she shielded golden eyes—a throwback to her wolf bondmate—with one hand.

“Goddammit, Moira! Get down here.”

Still shrieking with delight, the vulture obligingly veered hard left and headed straight for Ketha, landing on her shoulder and digging in her talons for balance.

“Ouch!” Ketha thumped the flat of her hand across the bird’s talons, but Moira didn’t uncurl so much as one of them.

Sensing a story lay behind Moira’s appearance, Leif aimed his words at Ketha. “What happened?”

“We were deep in tarot spreads, or the other women were. I was working with my glass trying to get it to give me something but the past.”

“The tarot was contradictory,” Moira said, clacking her beak a time or two for emphasis.

Ketha angled her head and eyed the vulture. “Patience never was your strong suit.”

“Never claimed it was.” Another beak clack.

“Anyway,” Ketha went on. “One minute Moira was at a table with Tessa and Zoe. The next, she jumped to her feet and bolted from the room. Right after that, I heard her yapping in vulturese, so I’m betting her clothes are in a heap on the floor somewhere.”

“When what you’re doing isn’t working,” the vulture inserted in a sing-songy tone, “do something different. Sitting on my ass for another three hours begging the cards to cooperate isn’t my style.”

Leif smothered the smile that hovered in the background. He liked Moira. She was outspoken and gutsy. Beyond that, her acres of dark hair and liquid dark eyes were lovely, as was her delicately-boned face sprinkled with a dusting of freckles. Her lush lips were always rosy, and she had a way of licking them that made him want to replace her tongue with his own. Medium height, he’d spent surreptitious moments taking in the curves of her breasts, hips, and ass. She had a fine ass, high and round and made for a man’s hands to grab.

His cock began to swell, and he cut off his line of thought fast before his arousal became noticeable. He angled a cascade of his long, thick hair to provide better cover for his nether regions, but no amount of hair could conceal a full-blown erection if his unruly appendage got totally out of hand.

Ketha drew her mouth into a frustrated line and made another effort to displace Moira’s talons, with no success. “How about making dinner? Is that more up your alley? It would free Aura and Zoe to waste more time with the cards.”

“Sure. I’ll lose myself in the galley. Probably for the best. Maybe the cards decided to cooperate after my negative energy left.” Still cawing, the bird launched hard off Ketha’s shoulder.

She stifled a yelp and rubbed the place the bird had been. “How can a bunch of feathers and hollow bones weigh so much?”

“I heard that!” Moira punctuated her words with a hearty squawk.

One of the whales approached Ketha and inclined his head. “I am not as skilled at scrying as the whale waiting for us in northern waters, but what happened when you tried to coax a vision out of your mirror?”

Ketha drew her brows together and exhaled raggedly. “It’s different than before the wickedness that yanked me and the whale Shifter out of Arkady. Then I ran up against a blank wall. This time, when I tell the mirror to show me the future, something that’s already happened pops up.”

“Not good,” the whale muttered. “It’s a time inversion.”

Alarms tolled in Leif’s mind and he switched to his third eye, the one allowing him to view the world from a psychic perspective. Glowing bisecting lines formed. Some vertical. Some horizontal. Ley lines, they carried the world’s magic, concentrating it in key locations. He stared at them, assessing their integrity, and bit back a startled exclamation.

“What?” Several voices, including Ketha’s, asked almost in unison.

He held up both hands, fingers spread in front of him. “Do. Not. Panic.” Leveling his gaze at everyone, he repeated, “Do. Not. Panic,” knowing the injunction was aimed at himself as much as anyone.

Lynda rolled her eyes and made come along motions with one hand. “Fine, oh fearless alpha. What did you find?”

He shuffled through palatable explanations, but couldn’t come up with anything, so he stood straighter and muttered, “Magic is weaker here than it was last time I looked at the ley lines.”

“How much weaker?” Ketha demanded, followed by, “Never mind. I’ll look myself.”

“I don’t know how much weaker,” Leif answered, but she’d shut her earth eyes and was deep in her own assessment. “These things aren’t easy to quantify. It’s a sure bet, though, that if our magic isn’t as effective, neither is theirs.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” one of the whales said

“I agree,” Lewis broke in. “I never believed the dark ones sucked power from the same trough as us.”

“You make us sound like pigs,” Leif protested.

Lewis shrugged. “Sorry if my analogy offended you. It’s not the point, though. If something has laid siege to our power, you can bet an ugly surprise is right around the corner.”

Ketha opened worried-looking eyes. “You won’t remember Rowana. She died before we met up with you, but she discovered small chewed places at the convergence of some of the lines. It looks to me like whatever started that destruction is still working on it, and it’s finally had an effect on how much magic is available for us to tap into.”

“Probably why the tarot wasn’t cooperating. Or your scrying,” Leif said.

“Exactly what I’m thinking. Crap. We do not need anything extra to stumble over. I’m going back upstairs. I’ll tell the women to conserve their efforts. Only one tarot spread at a time. While they’re working on that, I won’t do anything with my glass.”

Leif nodded and glanced around the grim-faced group. “A staged approach may help. If there’s only so much magic, rationing it so it only has to do one thing at a time should maximize its utility.”

Ketha ran across the deck, vanishing inside the ship.

“Turns out us coming out of the water when we did was prophetic,” a whale muttered.

“Yeah. I wish I could disagree, but it rings true for me,” Lynda said. “I’m headed for the clothes locker. See all of you upstairs.”

“Before you leave,” Leif called after her, “have any of you checked the ley lines lately? Last time I looked might have been New Zealand, and I’d like a more recent comparison if anyone has one.”

I drew power from them during the Kelpie attack,” a whale said. “Didn’t notice much of anything other than the augmentation I needed was there for me.”

Leif glanced at a sea of shaking heads. “Thanks for trying. See you in a little bit.”

It wasn’t cold, but a shudder tracked down his body, his earlier arousal forgotten. Who could be sabotaging their magic? The damaged ley lines couldn’t be accidental, and whoever was behind the problem had clearly been chipping away at them for a long time. Months from the sound of things.

He hunkered beneath a bulkhead near the door his pod had taken as they filed inside. Five minutes would give him time to think. Besides, with everyone crowded around their clothing locker, he wouldn’t be able to get close to it anyway.

He catalogued what he knew, which wasn’t very damn much. The assault on their magic had been subtle, so subtle it had mostly gone unnoticed until today. Rowana, the eagle Shifter he’d never met, may have sounded a muted alarm, but the other women hadn’t been worried enough to check the lines regularly.

Balling one hand into a fist, he brought it down on the deck. Pain had a stabilizing effect, forcing him to narrow his roiling thoughts. The way they were bouncing around, he’d never make sense of anything, let alone figure out what he needed to do next.

One fact smacked him squarely between the eyes. It would take a hell of a lot of magic to erode the ley lines—even more to do it so delicately as to go mostly unnoticed.

Could Poseidon possibly be behind such an undertaking?

Leif played the possibility through his mind, but it seemed remote. Poseidon had magic to burn, but it was an in-your-face type of power. The sea god had never been a cloak and dagger type, mostly because he lacked the incisive elegance required for subterfuge. When he’d gone after the Kelpie, staff swinging, it epitomized his approach to most everything. Hit fast and hard and ask the tough questions afterward.

If there was an afterward.

If not Poseidon, then who?

Leif slumped lower, resting his naked butt cheeks on the deck. When the answer came, it was so obvious he cringed. Amphitrite. In her own way, she was far stronger than her consort, and her magic held both grace and refinement. She was more than capable of taking a chink here and there out of the ley lines, siphoning power to augment her own while leaving less for Shifters and others who relied on the lines for their ability.

Soon after Leif entered into the bargain with the Witches that was almost his undoing, Poseidon had cuffed him, cussed him out, and called him things far worse than stupid without offering to cast even one spell to aid the sea Shifters so they could nullify their pact.

Furious at his liege’s patronizing condescension, Leif had hurtled out of the royal dwelling intent on losing himself in the sea. He’d no sooner found his dolphin form when Amphitrite joined him. Nereids swam next to her, sending glowing contrails through the sea’s murky surface.

He ground his teeth together, the memory of that day still engraved in his memory. The queen of the sea had apologized for her consort, but once she was done, she’d invited Leif to share her bed. Nonplussed, he’d blundered through a refusal. He hadn’t totally given up on Poseidon coming to his senses and aiding the sea Shifters. Sleeping with his wife would certainly put the kibosh on any possibility of assistance.

With a knowing smile on her ageless face, Amphitrite said her invitation was open-ended, and she’d encouraged him to give it some thought. The Nereids had flashed breasts and tails his way before the whole convoy disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived.

Fury swept through him. Had Amphitrite been skimming power even then? Or was this something new? A little trick she began experimenting with after the Cataclysm struck?

He raked his wet hair out of his face. If it was Amphitrite, he had an idea. One that would send a nasty magical shockwave boomeranging back in her face the next time she had the temerity to dabble in what didn’t belong to her.

“Magic belongs to all of us.”

His dolphin’s voice reverberating through his mind shocked Leif, and he shot to his feet. “You never talk with me when I’m human. And you’re using English. I had no idea you spoke anything but our sea tongue.”

A low chuckle tickled the corners of his consciousness. “How could I not know your human language after sharing your mind for centuries? When we spent most of our time in my body, there was no need to speak during the rare occasions you were human, but we seem to have reached a turning point.”

Leif sent warm thoughts swimming inward. “I agree about magic belonging to us all, but what would you have me do to stymie her?”

“If you set a trap, it will snap shut no matter who’s meddling. Right?”

“Maybe. If it’s someone from the darker side of things, it might roll off them without much effect, but it should protect the ley lines from further degradation.”

“It might be enough.” The dolphin paused. “We must do everything we can to ensure Poseidon and Amphitrite survive. Our power is rooted in theirs, and if they fail...”

The dolphin stopped there, but it didn’t have to say any more. Leif understood. Suddenly, the task stretching before him grew far more complex. Cutting the sea gods off at the knees wasn’t an option. No. Somehow, he had to convince them to return to their proper roles. Protection, rather than exacting what they needed without a thought to their subjects.

Weariness crashed over him as he made his way inside. The lower corridor was empty, and he dressed fast. The sooner he laid his thoughts out for the others to pick apart, the sooner they could come up with a plan.

Regardless, they had to move fast, before magic to summon even the simplest of castings ran through their fingers like sand through an hourglass.