Silent Storm: Pacific Passion, Book 3 Read online

  She swirled to face Matt. “It’s okay, it’s Kallen, he’s my friend.”

  She lifted her arms to the sky and gestured the giant bird down. It had been years since she’d seen him. He was huge, the wingspan of his eagle form covering over eight feet as he spread them wide and angled his way downward, spiraling toward the ship. As she watched, she remembered the sensation of riding the wind currents, seeing his minute wing adjustments as he made course corrections. Kallen pulled up hard, back winging with his talons extended to grasp the railing beside where she stood. The force of the wind hit her squarely and pushed her hair from her face, pressing the fabric of the thin shirt tight to her skin.

  Laurin stepped closer and reached out a hand to stroke his head in greeting as the tribes did at home. He preened against her palm, his bright eye catching hers, and a tiny flutter of remembered heat hit. Of all the men of the tribes, Kallen had been the one she’d admired the most, with his mesmerizing gaze, his sculpted muscular body. The only one she’d had any interest in getting to know more intimately. When she’d chosen to run away, it was Kallen who she’d been reluctant to abandon. But with his brother and him both vying for the leadership of his tribe, he had been as much of a threat to her as any of them.

  “What does he want?” Matt growled.

  Laurin startled at the sound of his voice. Guilt shot through her that she could even think Kallen desirable after having spent the past night, and months, in Matt’s tender care. She slipped away, snatching her hands to her chest. “I’m not sure.”

  Matt stepped in front of her, and the eagle jerked away, scratching his talons along the wood railing as he retreated from the shaman. “Stay still,” Matt ordered.

  Kallen dipped his head, watching cautiously as Matt touched his head, not as delicately as Laurin had. The two males froze in position, and when Matt released Kallen, a string of light curses rose from his lips.

  “What’s wrong?” Laurin eyed Kallen, concerned that some dire illness she couldn’t see had struck him. “Kallen, shift—tell me what’s the matter.”

  Matt spun and grabbed her by the elbow, dragging her toward the wheelhouse. “He can’t shift, that’s the problem.”

  “What?”

  “He’s been cursed. As far as I can tell from first touch, someone laid a geis on him and he’s unable to shift until it’s lifted.”

  Laurin had never heard of such a thing. She stopped, turning to face Kallen. “Can you cure him?”

  Matt tugged on her arm. “Come below.”

  “Matt, what are you doing? Why are you acting this way? Is he contagious?” It was the only thing she could think of. Why else would she be herded back into the ship, her lover’s face stone cold and emotionless?

  He paused and shook his head in frustration. “No, it’s not something you can catch, and…I’m sorry.” He dropped her elbow, scrubbing his fingers through his hair in frustration.

  “For what?”

  “I need you out of the way for a bit.”

  That made no sense at all. “Matt, tell me what’s going on. Why are you acting like this?”

  Matt spat out the words. “He wants you, okay? That’s why he came here. He’s been looking for you and thinks you can cure him.”

  “Can I?” She glanced over his shoulder at where Kallen clung to the railing. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  “You can’t heal him, I have to.”

  “Then…why aren’t you healing him?” Laurin cupped Matt’s face in her hands. The peace she associated with Matt had vanished. Instead as she stared into his eyes, the blue depths were dark, his face twisted with anger and something shadowy. “Matt, please, just tell me what’s wrong.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and for a brief moment the calm of his magic touched her. It swirled away faster than she thought possible, and anger and fear poured into its place.

  One step back broke his contact with her, then another, before he looked up. Longing and bitter fear colored the fringes of his magic. “I’m sorry. I’ve never…felt like this before. I can’t heal him until I find my balance.”

  His shirt flew in one direction, his pants in another as he stripped.

  “What are—?”

  “I’m going for a swim. I can’t…” He broke off the words and hauled her against his naked body, kissing her fiercely. Possessive, heated, as if he was storing up her memory in that instant and might never touch her again. Laurin clung to him as she returned the kiss, striving to understand. Longing to provide whatever it was he needed.

  When he let her go, her heart pounded. From arousal, from fear. “You’re leaving me?”

  “Oh, God, no.” His voice broke. “Not leaving, just… I’ll be back. And with everything that is in me, I pray you’ll still be here when I return.”

  Chapter Three

  Guilt speared through Matt harder than he’d ever felt before in his life. He raced for the edge of the deck, forcing down the urge to lock Laurin up and tuck her away from the sight of her fellow air shifter.

  One foot hit the railing before he leapt over the edge, waiting until after he hit the water to shift. He wanted the shock of the cold, hoping it would knock some sense back into his brain. Seconds later he dashed away as an orca, a killer whale. An image feared by the human community, but he should have chosen an eel. It would have been more in keeping with the deep emotion now bubbling up from within.

  Jealousy ate him. From the moment Laurin had announced her intentions to go home, he’d fought the emotion. Denied its existence. He did understand her need to be there for her people. His responsibilities as shaman—he’d been born to them as well. The magic had come unasked for, and he’d accepted it as his duty and privilege to serve his people. He would never deny her that. But knowing she felt torn between the mountains and sea, and accepting he might have to give her up… That part burned.

  He twisted in the water, increasing his speed as he raced away from the boat. The water welcomed him. Cradled and held him as he escaped from what he had no control over. Oh God, the spike of pain that hit as he thought about her response to recognizing Kallen. He’d felt her desire, her interest in the other shifter, and he’d never expected how much it would hurt.

  His people weren’t normally the jealous type. Sharing lovers was common, accepted. But not for him, not Laurin.

  She hadn’t intended on causing him pain. It had been an honest reaction on her part—and that’s what made it all the more hurtful. He knew he wanted no one else in his life, no one but her. He’d sensed that almost since their first meeting.

  She hadn’t had the same reaction, and perhaps it was because they weren’t meant to be forever.

  Maybe even now she would shift and accompany the air shifter home. She’d been looking for a way to get involved and help her people—it seemed a logical place to start. With someone she admired, someone who leapt to her mind as desirable.

  Matt mentally cursed and dove deeper, trying to outrun his tormented mind and soul. He refused to think about it, just pushing his body to the point of exhaustion, hoping to find the peace of the ocean.

  How long he swam, he had no idea, but eventually the stabbing pain within him dimmed. Either he grew numb, or the sea was administering its peace on him. Finding a way to soothe his troubled heart. He turned, watching the ocean floor more closely, examining his surroundings instead of flying past like a torpedo bent on destruction.

  He was a shaman. He healed—the gift was not his to withhold and administer as he pleased, but as was needed. To turn his back on that responsibility was impossible to imagine. Kallen needed to be healed, and Matt would do so to the best of his ability.

  As soon as he accepted that truth, a wash of energy filled his body. Renewed strength filling his torso as he moved steadily back to the ship. The tight bomb-like sensation in his chest eased. Sadness and guilt that he’d allowed his jealousy to intrude on who he was pressed in momentarily before the ocean answered again with a healing touch.
/>   Oh God, he was being restored by the waters of the Pacific.

  As shaman, his powers flowed from the water. Gave him the strength to heal and bring peace to all of the family of water shifters. The power had been a responsibility he had welcomed, but the ability to serve others had occasionally been a touch of a burden as well. He shifted back to human and hung suspended in the current off the small island he circled. The bright blue of the sky was muted as he looked up through the salt water and accepted the caress of the ocean. He’d never been held like this before—ministered to by the sea whose people he served.

  It was like receiving a gift for once, instead of being the one to bestow it.

  His head broke the surface and he rolled to his back to allow the sun to warm his skin. Cradled in the waves, Matt released the last of his troubles, crying out like a penitent in a confessional. He didn’t want to lose Laurin. He feared she would choose her own people if given the chance. He didn’t want to return to being alone, unloved except for what he could provide through his magic.

  The water washed away his fears. Accepted them, acknowledged them, but then fed him back enough magic to soothe him inside.

  He was not alone. Never, was he ever alone. A million voices of the People of the Sea carried to him, blurring together along the water’s surface. Beneath the waves, the non-shifting kin called to him as well—the dolphins in their pods, otters and the seals, and far to the north the sea lions and even the great whales. They didn’t understand his worries about alone.

  They were always there.

  He gave thanks for their love and comfort, and turned to swim for the Stormchild. A spark of inspiration hit—and his heart grew lighter with hope. He would do what was right, but he would also do everything he could to make his dream a reality. That included fighting to keep Laurin in his life.

  Matt reached the ship, his mind finally clear and his soul far more peaceful than when he’d left. The slap of the rope ladder as it hit the hull drew his attention upward to see Laurin’s concerned face staring over at him. He made the wobbly ascent to reach the deck only to be attacked by a huge fluffy towel and a death grip of a hug.

  She clung to him, the warmth of her body bleeding through the towel and heating him. Even more, the strength of her grip on his shoulders as she stared into his face, the concern in her eyes and then the meaningful kiss she planted on his lips—it hit him forcefully, and he accepted it as another blessing.

  Then she made a fist and thumped him on the chest, hard, and he swore.

  “What was that for?”

  “You scared me to death.” She pushed him away, arms crossed in front of her, chin tilted defiantly. “What the hell was that all about? You raced out of here like the devil himself was on your heels.”

  She was right—he’d been chased by the devil’s curse of jealousy. Matt dried himself, looking around quickly for their guest and not seeing him anywhere. “I’ll explain in a second. Where’s Kallen gone?”

  “He’s sitting at the prow. I can’t talk to him in human form, and your reaction to his arrival scared me enough I wasn’t about to shift when you weren’t here. I still don’t understand what is going on.”

  “I’ll explain. First, let me do what I can for your friend.”

  Matt found his discarded shorts on the deck and pulled them on before he called out Kallen’s name. A golden head appeared over the roof of the wheelhouse. Matt pointed before him. “Come. Let me see if I can lift this curse.”

  The giant bird landed on the deck and Matt knelt at his side.

  “Do you need me to do anything?” Laurin asked.

  Matt gestured her back. “Stay out of range. I don’t sense anything malicious attached to the curse other than it’s blocking his ability to change, but just in case.”

  A soft kiss landed on his shoulder followed by the sound of her footfalls as she slipped into the wheelhouse where she could watch and remain protected. He smiled at her. Laurin kissed her fingers and he sensed her good wishes.

  Before him the eagle cried, soft and low. Matt laid his hands on Kallen’s head and gathered his magic, wrapping it in a circle around the two of them to protect and contain whatever might burst forth as the curse was lifted.

  Within the sphere, moisture gathered—a component of his water magic. He drew from his abilities to attempt to wash clean the curse, peeling away layer after layer like a rotten wallpapering job. Clumsy, some of the layers. Others brilliantly applied. All of them foul with ill-intent and the desire to cause Kallen harm.

  Time meant nothing. Matt focused completely. On giving from his soul, being who he was supposed to be. By the time his task was accomplished, Matt was sweating profusely, the eagle shaking under his hands. The crisp texture of feathers morphed slowly into slick skin. Kallen gasped with pain. Matt rested his hands on the man’s broad shoulders as the shifter returned to his human form, crouching naked on the deck.

  They both panted for air, bodies worn from the process as Matt removed the protective circle from around them. Kallen clasped wrists with him, the firm hold allowing them both to stand slowly, providing each other support that Matt wasn’t happy to need. He stared up at the air shifter who had at least four inches on him in height.

  Matt offered a greeting, hoping to put aside his initial response. “Welcome back, brother. How do you feel?”

  The other man took a deep breath and let it go. His mouth opened and—no sound came out. The relieved expression on Kallen’s face vanished as he attempted to speak and remained mute.

  Shit. Matt held out a hand to the man, waiting for his permission. Kallen nodded, and Matt pressed his fingers to Kallen’s throat, feeling for any lingering damage caused by the curse. There was nothing at first, nothing that would make him suspicious, but as Matt continued his investigation, he discovered there was another layer to the curse still remaining. Something strong and complicated, with a sense of both the ocean and the mountains combined.

  “Kallen, who did this to you?” Matt asked.

  Kallen gestured helplessly.

  “Matt? What’s happening?”

  The concern in her voice was back and Matt motioned urgently. “Go below, and find a pad of paper or something.”

  As Laurin scrambled for something to write on, Kallen held out a hand. It was a peace offering if he’d ever seen one. A way of showing his gratitude, and willingness to let Matt take charge.

  Now if only Matt didn’t want to tell the man to leave immediately. The complication of keeping the air shifter around any longer than necessary played havoc on Matt’s only recently calmed jealous streak.

  “Who among the air clans could have cursed Kallen—with enough power that the curse is multilayered and more than your average shaman can cure?” Matt asked Laurin as she returned, passing the writing pad to the air shifter.

  “Someone high ranking? Kallen is in line to lead the Assiniboine people. Well, him or his brother.”

  “The brother you were afraid of? Who I fought back in June?” He felt her tense even as he reminded her.

  “Yes, the same. Only Kallen isn’t anything like Kilade. If I had to trust anyone, it would be Kallen. When I was young, he stopped the taunting more than once when my family visited his. My grandfather made us stop over at all the tribes every year. Since we didn’t know why I was Hawáte, able to boost other’s powers, he insisted I learn everything possible about all the People of the Air.”

  Matt ignored that for a minute, focusing on the issue of Kallen. “His father—would he be powerful enough to arrange this curse?”

  Kallen grasped Matt’s hand again and shook his head.

  “Not your father…but someone from your tribe?”

  Kallen turned to the pad of paper but before his pen touched the page, Laurin spoke up.

  “It was Kilade, wasn’t it?”

  A curt nod. The air shifter’s shoulders drooped, his massive body full of misery.

  They sat in silence at the tiny portable table on the deck
, Kallen folding his bulk behind one side, Laurin to his right. Matt watched warily as he took a seat only a foot away. Kallen’s gaze seemed to flick back to Laurin involuntarily time and time again.

  The layers of curse within the curse—Matt had never experienced such a thing before. He knew it was possible, but the casting would have taken a huge toll on the person. He highly doubted Kilade had the power on his own—he must have convinced others to assist him, including someone from the People of the Sea. With two or more people establishing the curse, it was incredibly complex.

  And the cure? Virtually impossible.

  Laurin touched Kallen’s shoulder—just the touch of commiseration. Matt had seen her do that same thing to a child when offering comfort from a fall or during a difficult lesson. The pain cut hard though, and he had to bite his tongue to stop from ordering her to get her hands off the man. They looked so connected. Even with the variation in their coloring—hers light, his dark—it was obvious they were both of the air clans.

  He closed his eyes and tried to find that peace. The offering of the ocean he’d only so recently received.

  “Can you tell us anything else about what happened? Or why you’ve come to us? How did you know where to find me?” Laurin asked all the right questions, and Matt let her take charge. Partly drained from his earlier healing, he let himself mentally drift as he waited. Kallen’s pen scratched lightly on the page.

  He wasn’t sure how long he had been daydreaming. The touch of Laurin’s hand on his made him open his eyes. He clasped her fingers tight, not wanting to let go. She smiled, squeezing back before pushing the pad of paper his direction. As Matt moved to read the message, Laurin touched Kallen’s shoulder again to get his attention.

  “We’ll do what we can to help you, I promise.” The familiar cool wash of Laurin’s magic flashed in a new and unexpected manner, lighting them with a bright incandescence that left spots before Matt’s eyes. She shot to her feet in an instant, back against the mast, fear on her face. “What was that? Was that…me?”