Chapter 11
Emmy woke early on Saturday, excited about the boat trip to see glaciers and wildlife, but also looking forward to a relaxing day with friends.
Breakfast was raucous, with Spence once again acting as omelet chef. Bacon and sausage were under domes, as were fried potatoes, gravy, and biscuits. Spence made omelets to order, and everyone ate their fill while cutting up with each other.
While she waited for her omelet, Emmy dumped some of Spence’s from-scratch batter into the waffle iron and made herself a golden square of crisp perfection to drizzle with tons of butter and a little honey.
Felix had slept like a baby, and when her alarm had awakened them, he’d gone under the sheets to give her three orgasms with his mouth, then fucked her through two before she’d finally given him permission to orgasm.
Hares weren’t bunnies, but they were close enough relatives to fuck with the same relentless enthusiasm.
And yes, Emmy had spent enough time in Faerie to fuck her share of rabbit shifters, so she had a good comparison.
It wasn’t terribly cold out, sixty-three and sunny, but Spence had warned it would be cooler on the water, so she wore a thermal tee with a hoodie over it, lined cargo pants, warm socks, and waterproof boots with a good sole.
If the highs in July were in the sixties, she wasn’t certain she wanted to be here in January.
Then it occurred to her she’d be even farther north in January, though she hopefully wouldn’t have to go outside the missile silo to experience the far-below-freezing temperatures.
They met outside the garage and loaded up.
It wasn’t just the flock going, but the daywalker girlfriends and boyfriends of some of the vampires, too.
The bus carried fifteen people plus the driver, which meant they needed several three-row SUVs as well.
Emmy sat on the bus beside Rhea, Felix across the aisle, and Maren looking out the window beside him.
“Six hours on a boat,” Rhea said, voice pitched to carry over the chatter. “Place your bets now on who throws up first.”
“My money’s on Toby,” Felix answered without missing a beat.
“I heard that,” Toby muttered from two rows ahead, though he didn’t bother turning around.
Rhea introduced her to Ajax and Arabella, who lived with married vampires in a home thirty minutes outside Anchorage.
Ajax was huge with a bald, gleaming head, and her nose told her he was a werewolf.
Arabella was tiny, her long blonde hair like something out of Faerie.
Emmy’s nose told her Arabella was a swan, which explained the hair.
Her scent said she belonged to Ajax more than Emmy’s mother — Arabella’s Queen. Still, it was nice to smell her mom, even if only through one of her many subjects.
Emmy leaned her head against the seat and watched the trees whip by as they drove south, and listened to the people around her cutting up and talking about what they wanted to see on the boat ride.
By the time they hit Seward, the bus was warm with low-key laughter and a bunch of crazy stories Emmy hoped were only half true.
Spence handled logistics to get everyone onto the boat, and made sure every shifter had the three meal tickets he’d arranged, and the few humans had their single ticket.
The boat was bigger than Emmy expected, two decks with open railings and wide cabin windows below. No reserved seating here; tourists from all over crowded in, bright jackets and binoculars slung around their necks.
Spence steered their group to a corner of the cabin, not corralling them so much as creating a center of gravity everyone else naturally orbited. Emmy followed, brushing shoulders with strangers until their group settled at a cluster of tables.
Rhea invited Ajax and Arabella to sit with them, and Felix, Toby, Lana, and Maren filled in their table of eight.
Ajax loomed across the table from her, bald head now covered by a short, tight-knit black watch cap, with Arabella tucked neatly against his side like she could disappear into his ribcage if she tried hard enough. She gave Emmy a shy smile when their gazes met, which Emmy returned with a nod.
She noticed Ajax scanning exits automatically, and it reminded her he was some kind of security expert. Arabella relaxed a few minutes after sitting down, and told them, “I’ve never been on the ocean before. This is exciting.”
“First time for me too,” Felix told her. “If I fall in, I’ll change mid-air. Bet I can swim faster as a hare than a two-legged cringe gremlin.”
“You’ll drown faster,” Rhea shot back, rolling her eyes. “Ajax, throw him over so we can test it.”
Ajax didn’t even blink, but Arabella’s lips twitched like she was suppressing laughter.
A loudspeaker crackled to life, the captain welcoming them aboard and warning about rough patches of water once they were out of the inner bay, and before long, the boat pulled away from land.
The engines thrummed underfoot as they slid free of the dock, and Emmy stepped out onto the lower deck with Rhea at her side, the railing cold and slick. Felix, of course, was already leaning so far forward she half expected to see him topple over and splash into the wake.
The wind carried the sharp, clean scent of open salt water, tangy enough to assault her sinuses. It felt different than the mountain air she was used to, heavier, threaded with kelp and cold.
Seagulls wheeled overhead, screaming their greedy chorus, and Emmy watched one dive and snatch something from the water, wings slapping as it struggled back into the sky.
Tourists clustered at every railing, cameras raised. A few had enormous lenses, ready for the prize shot of the day. Emmy breathed in, filling her lungs, and looked around for Spence, but she didn’t see him.
A voice over the loudspeaker called their attention starboard.
She followed the shift of bodies and saw dozens of puffins in flight, skimming low over the surface, wings beating too fast to seem real.
A few bobbed in the swell like toy ducks, diving and resurfacing with tiny fish clamped in their absurd beaks.
Arabella gasped softly, pressing closer to Ajax’s side. Her small hands gripped his forearm, pale hair tangling in the wind. “They don’t even look real,” she said in her soft voice.
Ajax gave the barest grunt of agreement, but Emmy caught the tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth.
Felix elbowed Rhea, pointing. “Bet you five bucks one of those crashes headfirst into a wave.”
“Bet you five bucks you’re the one who goes overboard trying to take a selfie with them,” Rhea shot back.
Emmy laughed, shaking her head. “You’d look ridiculous with a puffin.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Emmy knew puffins aren’t related to penguins, but watching them in action, she could see why people thought so.
The boat pushed farther into the bay, the mountains shrinking behind them, jagged peaks softened by distance. The captain’s voice came again, pointing out a bald eagle perched high on a rocky outcrop. Emmy spotted it — wings tucked, white head stark against the dark stone.
Felix leaned over the rail, one leg up behind him, craning for a better look. Ajax’s voice came low and deep as he caught Felix by the back pocket of his pants and kept him from falling. “Back, silly rabbit.”
Felix grinned sheepishly. “Thanks for the save. I’ll even let the rabbit comment go since you saved me from getting wet.”
Arabella gave a little laugh, and Ajax kissed the top of her head while telling Felix, “Glad I was close. You should be more careful.”
A collective murmur ran through the passengers as the eagle launched into flight, massive wings spreading wider than Emmy’s arms could reach. It circled once, then rose higher in a lazy spiral, rising into the blue sky.
Maren gave a sigh. “I always forget how big they are until I see one flying. Makes hawks look like sparrows.”
Emmy tracked the eagle until it disappeared over a ridge, awestruck at the bird’s majesty.
Twenty minutes later, the engines shifted, slowing, and the crowd surged toward the port side when someone shouted, “Whale!”
Emmy hurried to the railing, squeezing between Toby and a tourist with a camera the size of her arm. At first she saw nothing but dark water broken by whitecaps — and then a column of spray erupted into the air, sunlight catching in the mist.
A humpback, enormous and impossibly graceful, arched over the surface.
The smooth dark back rose higher, higher, until the dorsal fin cut the water, then slid down again, leaving a rolling swell in its wake.
The tail came last, lifting skyward, black and white patterned, dripping with sheets of seawater before it slammed back into the sea with a thunderclap.
The entire boat cheered. Emmy felt a thrill that vibrated under her skin, through her chest, and all the way to her bones. Awestruck was an understatement.
Beside her, Spence stood utterly still, gaze locked on the horizon. “Magnificent,” he said softly, and for a moment, it was as though the rest of them didn’t exist. Just him and the whale and the stretch of wild Alaska between them.
And then Felix broke the magical moment with, “Do we get extra points if it jumps all the way out of the water? Like a ten out of ten dive score?”
Rhea swatted his arm, but he only said, “Yummm. Do it again.”
The whale was gone, leaving only rings of disturbed water, but Emmy found herself grinning. Once she was certain it was gone, she told Felix, “We’ve been through this before. Naughty boys don’t get spankings.”
They moved on. The loudspeaker shifted them toward starboard, pointing out rocky cliffs streaked with guano, white as snowfall.
Birds swarmed in clouds — puffins again, but also gulls, kittiwakes, and murres, their cries a cacophony above the engine’s thrum.
The smell hit too: acrid and pungent, layered with the sea’s brine.
Felix pinched his nose dramatically. “Ah yes, the perfume of nature.”
Maren laughed, popped him on the ass, and told him, “You’re such a child.”