Page 20 of Mated to Team Shadow

"Again," said Kane. He buried his fingers deep into the engine's mechanism, and risked his digits, but he understood the danger we faced. If he had to slice off a finger or two, he'd get the engine started.

But then again, with our aberrant shifter metabolism, they'd grow back, eventually.

Damon cranked the engine again, and it turned slowly as if the battery was low, and I cursed. We couldn't afford a failed battery—not now.

"Fuck, you piece of shit—start!" spat Kane.

As if inspired by Kane's insult the engine sputtered on the next crank of the beast. Kane wriggled his fingers, massaging something in its guts, and it roared to life finally catching.

I'm not a religious man, but I sent a prayer of thanks to whatever God watched out for us now.

"Turn her into the waves," I called as if Damon was an idiot who didn't know the proper procedure. He shook his head but didn't complain. We were all on edge about our situation, even if we didn't display it on our faces. Over the years they had learned to take my asshole behavior in stride.

Despite the strong wind, Damon turned her into the swells, and the bow rose as whitecaps crashed against the prow. Rain and spray pelted us as I secured the inflated raft in the middle of the deck with lines running to each of us. I tied Damon's and Kane's harnesses to the metal rails running along the gunwales. My feet slipped on the water-soaked deck as the ship bucked against the rolling water. The weather turned nastier as the waves grew. It wasn't safe for Jeanine to remain below deck.

I yanked open the hatch and called them up. Gunner wisely had Jeanine put on a lifejacket, though I would have taken a piece of his hide if he hadn't. He also dragged up the backpacks. That was the good thing about Gunner. He kept an eye on the details.

The downpour drenched her clothes and slicked her hair, so it dripped water in her eyes. I pushed her onto a seat as I lashed her to the raft with one rope and the gunwale with another. Then I tied the line to the rail with a reef knot, which looked like half a bow.

"If the ship tips over, pull this cord." I had to yell at her above the wailing squall.

She nodded, and I hoped to God she heard me above the wind.

Gunner lashed his own harness and tied himself into my contraption. Now all of us circled the life raft that held our slim hope of survival.

Next Gunner gave me two of our backpacks to tie into the raft, and he secured the other two. Then Gunner also lashed himself to the gunwale rails. All we had left to do was stay with the raft, which had the survival supplies.

But we were not catching any breaks here, and all we could do was hold on as if our lives depended on it, which they did.

I was glad we had a full raft, though individual life rafts would have been better. Those things sealed up around you like a cocoon. And while you'd toss like a bitch inside them, you'd stay safe in almost any blow.

We could only hope that the storm rolled over us and left us in calmer seas, but until then we'd have to ride Neptune's anger out.

Gunner sat next to a shivering Jeanine. We might be in the middle of the Caribbean, but it was a cold deluge that hit us. I sat on her other side and tied my anchor line with another reef knot. Damon sat with grim determination at the wheel unwilling to let go.

Water drops danced and spun on the deck like crazy ballerinas while the boat's engine chugged against the force of the heaving sea. Even with the wind's whine rushing over us, I heard the small sounds of distress from Jeanine's throat. She'd been a trooper through this but the overpowering weather and her day so far had to be too much for her. Hell, it was almost too much for me, and I trained and ran ops in waters like these. I put my arm around her to comfort her.

"We will be fine," I said. "You've got the best Navy SEAL team in the world watching out for you."

She stared at me with a defiant expression that told me she didn't believe me.

In considering the events of the day, I had trouble believing it myself.

The boat rocked and spun from an overpowering gust that would have thrown us on the deck or overboard if we hadn't secured our bodies to the vessel. Damon valiantly tried to turn back into the waves, but then a wall of water roared up over us.

I swallowed hard, because though I'm brave, foolhardy, or both, I knew the odds of coming out of this alive.

Damon pushed the engines to the limit, ignoring Kane's earlier warning because we had to get over the crest of that wave before it smashed on us. If we didn't, we'd die.

The tiny boat climbed, its engines strained against the slope but finally broke the crest, and I breathed with relief because we'd cheated death one more time.

But then another, smaller, but still a forceful wave crashed over the bow and swamped us with water. We were going under, no doubt about it.

My team and I locked eyeballs knowing what would happen next. We all pulled our lash cords, and I pulled Jeanine's freeing us from the gunwales. Another wave poured more water into the boat tossing us into the stormy ocean along with the raft.

My plan was a desperate one, based on our superior strength and swimming skills, but trying to pile into a raft during this blow was dangerous too. We could easily tangle in the lines and get pulled under to drown.

But we'd drown if I hadn't attached us to the raft, so as my foster mother used to say, six and one-half dozen of the other.

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