Carson looked past Rae to his men. “Bring the big Shifter to the wheelhouse. We need him.”
The two guards looked momentarily surprised but pasted on hard expressions and disappeared back down the stairs. The distraction gave Rae the chance to clamp down on her shift and remain human, quieting her Collar.
“You,” Carson said, still eyeing Rae over his pistol. “Come away from there and give me back my keys.”
Rae clenched her hands and didn’t move. “I will when I see Zander safe.”
“Your loyalty is admirable. But they’re Shifters. They’ll use you and abandon you.”
“Because you know so much about Shifters,” Rae returned.
Carson’s voice was like ice. “They’re born wild beasts and that’s how they stay, no matter that they can show us a human form. They trick you with honeyed words, and then kill.”
Rae raised her brows. “Had a bad experience, did you?”
“You could say that,” Carson said. “Shifters killed my family. Brutally slaughtered them before my eyes. Now tell me how they’re furry little animals we all should understand. And while you’re doing it, get over here.”
Rae’s mouth hung open. Carson’s bone-cold eyes told her he wasn’t lying about the killing. Rae wished she could hotly deny that a Shifter would do such a thing, but she knew that Un-Collared Shifters and feral Shifters—any Shifter with enough anger, really—were capable of savagery. She only hoped that someone had caught the Shifters that had done such a terrible thing.
Zander’s grumbling voice came up the stairs behind her and she swung around. Zander had chains around his hands and was led by one guard and followed by the second. He had to brace himself on the wall as the stairwell listed.
“What the hell did you do to this boat?” he growled at Carson. “I was enjoying my nap. Couldn’t you keep it upright for at least another hour?”
* * *
Zander reached the top of the stairs. Rae’s face was stark white as she stood in the middle of the hallway and Carson’s glittered eyes above his pistol behind her.
“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Zander said to Rae. “We need to get by.”
The steel chains that bound his wrists had a bite of Fae magic in them—this Carson guy knew what he was doing. The cage Zander had just been let out of had been woven with Fae spells as well, which ensured Zander couldn’t break out of it with strength alone.
The first guard wanted Rae to go out ahead of them but Zander kept moving along, forcing the guard to push past Rae. This put the guard between Rae and Carson’s gun, which was what Zander wanted.
As Zander brushed against her, his tense body relaxed. Her touch, even this brief one, soothed his hurts.
He’d gotten Rae into this adventure, the kind Zander ran into all the time in his interesting life, and he’d get her out again. If he’d been alone, he wouldn’t worry—he’d simply wait to see what happened. But the need to protect Rae rose up and defeated all other concerns.
He sent her a wink as he passed, to let her know that all was well. Zander’s reward was a quick scowl. He wanted to laugh.
The lead guard quickened his pace and the one behind Zander prodded him to move. The guy behind him was hefty and had a gun but Zander knew that even chained he could easily break the guy’s neck. He decided to let him live and followed the first guard to the open door to the deck.
“Come on, Rae,” Zander said over his shoulder. “Let’s see what fun we can have.”
He stepped into a world of strangeness. The fog had become tinted yellow, both from the fumaroles jetting out from the black cliffs and from the rising sun. Fog swallowed the bow and stern of the boat, ensuring that Zander couldn’t see past the gunwale a few feet next to him. But he could hear.
He’d heard the glacier calving into the water and knew that Piotr had gotten them turned aside in time. Another roar from the same direction told him more ice had fallen from cliffs into the sea. Those chunks of ice would sink and then pop up again, possibly right under their boat.
Zander also heard a rumble he didn’t like. The beautiful scenery of the Alaska Peninsula had been formed by volcanoes that were far from dead—eruptions happened, and so did plenty of earthquakes. He’d read a statistic that Alaska had more earthquakes per year than the rest of North America combined. He believed it.
They were sailing blind. The boat had righted somewhat, as Piotr or Carson’s pilot steadied it, but they were pivoting in a circle, going nowhere.
Carson opened the door to the wheelhouse and stood back so the two guards could crowd Zander inside. Where they thought Zander was going to run to, he didn’t know.
Carson pointed his pistol at Zander. “Right the boat and show them how to steer us out of here.”
Zander glanced at the gun. “Because threatening to shoot me is going to reassure me. Maybe I’ll tell you I won’t help until you put all the firearms away.”
Carson wasn’t impressed with that. “I will shoot the Russian and then the other Shifter,” he said, “until you cooperate.”
Nothing about Rae. Hmm. Zander rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Piotr, what have you gotten us into? Nice save on the glacier, by the way.”
Piotr gave him a shaky look. “It is no problem.”
Zander motioned with his bound hands for Piotr to move so he could get close to the controls. He turned his head and looked into the eyes of the tall black man who kept one hand on the wheel. The man stared back at him steadily but his dark eyes flickered with unease.
Zander held his gaze a moment. “Seriously?” he asked, then shook his head. He’d talk with him about being part Shifter later. “Where are we?”
The pilot, Miles he’d heard the guards refer to him as, pointed a blunt finger at the chart on the computer. “There. I think.”
“Oh good,” Zander said. “We sort of know where we are. Rae, sweetie. Make someone bring me a cup of coffee. Waking up from a tranq always gives me parchment mouth.”
“You wake up from tranqs often?” Rae asked, her voice calm.
She was wonderful. No crying or yelling or breaking down in panic. “More than I’d care to,” Zander said. “I take it straight up, no milk or sugar, or cinnamon, whipped cream, chocolate, or all the other crap people put in coffee these days. Though a shot of vodka wouldn’t go amiss.”