The Shifter's Kiss. Caridad Pineiro

reveal herself, afraid of it and all the risk it would bring, she shot away from him like a bullet, finding the gap in the reefs that led to deeper water.

      Only there would she be safe from him. Safe from herself.

      * * *

      The scrape of her skin along his palm surprised him for a moment. It was almost as if she needed his touch, but that was impossible, he knew.

      A heartbeat later she raced away through a break in the reefs and then down beneath the surface, where he lost sight of her.

      He wanted to follow but then reminded himself of the lunacy of being in the ocean alone at this time of night. Besides, she had been along the reef for days and would likely return again.

      With that thought, he returned to shore, slightly more alert as he trudged up the steps and toweled down before dropping back into bed.

      As he closed his eyes, she returned in his dreams and he welcomed her.

      Chapter 3

      Despite what he had hoped, the large female shark had not returned in the past few days.

      Victor had spotted another boat in the area during that time. A duo of spear fishermen manned the vessel, and he worried that she might have had an encounter with them. Of course, he probably would have heard about that from someone in the nearby village. News of anyone bringing in as large a prize as that shark would certainly spread quickly through the area, especially in light of the ancient tales of the shark gods in these waters.

      As he swam over and through the reef, searching for her, the anxiety of her absence tied his gut into a painful knot until he spotted a large dark shadow emerging from the open ocean.

      Gracefully she moved onto the shallower floor of the reef bed, a dozen or more smaller sharks surrounding her like a cadre. He sank down to wait, watching her approach. Anxious to touch her once again. To see that almost-human gaze.

      It was so peaceful there as he waited. The only sounds were those of his breath and his heart beating loudly, racing slightly with the anticipation of meeting her once more.

      She drifted closer, circling him. Playing a coquette’s game as she came close enough to touch but then raced away when he reached for her.

      He smiled at the game against his mouthpiece and waited for her teasing play, but as he did so, a rough sound intruded. The thump-thump-thump of an engine approaching before it cut off. A short distance away, closer to the open ocean, the shadow of a boat darkened the ocean floor.

      He looked up just as two men dropped into the water, spear guns in hand.

      They moved quickly toward him. Toward her.

      Victor realized then that during their little game, she had become trapped in a cul-de-sac of coral walls. The only way out was past him and the two spear fishermen.

      Even as he thought that, a flash of silver sped past him in the water and skimmed close to the shark’s body before smashing into the coral.

      A second later, a second spear just missed the shark’s dorsal fin as the great animal surged upward, trying to put distance between itself and the other divers.

      Victor glanced toward her only to find that her way out was closed off there by one of the divers who swam close to the surface, training his weapon on the shark.

      Pushing off the bottom at the same time as the animal dove downward, Victor placed himself in the line of fire and held his hands out, urging the fishermen to stop their assault.

      A burble of air escaped the spear gun only a moment before agonizing heat tore through his side, stealing his breath. He looked down at the spear piercing him as dark circles danced before his eyes. Battling the pain, he maintained consciousness only long enough to register the blood oozing from his wound while below him the school of reef sharks moved as one, surging up in his direction.

      The blood, he thought. They would begin a feeding frenzy at even the faintest trace of it, much less the steady stream coming from his side as he slowly drifted downward.

      He was a dead man unless he could somehow get to the surface and away from them. He tried to swim with his one arm, but the movement brought debilitating agony through his side. Bracing his hand against the spear, he tried to stem the flow of blood as the sharks came ever closer, but he couldn’t.

      A bump came against his fins as one of the school swam past his feet, but, to his surprise, the sharks raced past him and toward the two other divers in the water. As one they rammed the men with their snouts as if they were dolphins, driving the men away from him and from the queen shark.

      Over and over they attacked until the men had been pushed back to their boat, bruised and slightly bloodied from a bite or two. The swarm of sharks circling the hull of the boat obscured it for a moment, but then the engine kicked in and the boat sped away.

      Safe. She was safe for now, he thought as he slowly sank to the bottom and prepared to die. Each time he tried to move, the pain immobilized him. He would never reach the surface without help and he doubted the two divers would be quick to put in a call to anyone.

      But still he hoped, calming his breath to conserve oxygen. He kicked weakly to move closer to shore, but the reef he so loved was in the way of salvation.

      A shadow fell across the pink–white sand only moments before she joined him on the ocean floor, circling around anxiously. He held out his hand and she swept past it before swimming away. The next time she came, she slipped beneath his outstretched arm and her fin caught against him, lifting him upward.

      In his mind he heard, “Hold me.” Or maybe he thought he did. His thoughts were scattered, his brain disoriented from the pain. But even with that, he did as she asked and circled her thick form with his good arm. Beneath it came the flex of muscle as the mighty shark moved him up and over the wall of reef and toward shore.

      It was like flying. The reef below him rushed past in a blur of speed until the kaleidoscope of colors and marine life gave way to smooth sand.

      He tried to rise as his fins scraped the shore, but his knees were rubbery. With a push, however, she was lifting him upward, above the ocean’s surface.

      He spit out the mouthpiece and groaned as the weight of the scuba gear and the spear in his side brought fresh rounds of pain.

      “You’re almost there,” he heard in a soft voice—feminine and with the slightest trace of an accent.

      He glanced over and forced his eyes to focus past the fog forming on the inside of his mask.

      The woman from his dreams stood there, his arm draped over her bare shoulders. Dark-grey eyes filled with worry as she bore his weight and half-dragged him from the surf.

      “Who are you?” Even speaking hurt as the breath necessary for words pulled at the spear through his side.

      “Nali,” she said as she continued plodding through the surf with him, her gait slightly unsteady. Like that of someone trying to find balance on a rolling ship or a little toddler learning to walk.

      That unsteadiness combined with the ungainliness of his flippers sent them tumbling down into the calf-high water. As they fell, she tried to shield his body with hers but failed.

      The end of the spear hit the soft sand, driving it deeper through his body in a blast of searing pain.

      This time there was no holding back the darkness that clawed its way into his brain and he blessedly released himself to it, ending his agony.

      * * *

      Nali muttered a curse at his rough groan and the heavier weight of his body.

      He had passed out for sure, and as strong as she was, he was bigger. His weight combined with that of his scuba gear was difficult to handle after so many months away from land. Still, she had to get him from the ocean and to somewhere she could tend to his wound.

      With a mighty shove that had her feet