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Gio leaned against a tree, trying to catch his breath and get his bearings. The gunshots had slowed significantly. Fires burned brightly, and occasionally he caught sight of a swirl of water as it jumped and crashed into people trying to kill the Weavers. Thick vines shot up out of the earth to sweep attackers off their feet and bind them up.
And finally he spotted Lucien, bathed in firelight right next to Grey. Everything in Gio screamed to run right to his mate, but just a few yards behind Lucien, Dane and Wiley were still guarding the dock. He had to finish his part of the mission. Get Hale to safety.
Grabbing Hale’s arm, Gio pulled him toward the light of the docks. They stumbled and tripped over hidden roots and fallen logs. Branches scraped at them, but they reached the two Weaver mates.
“Gio!” Wiley cried out, and then his eyes darted past Gio’s shoulder. “You found him!”
“I did. Baer?” he panted.
The perky warlock groaned. “He got himself hurt, but apparently it’s not bad. He’s feeling quite happy with himself.”
“Out of the house?”
Wiley nodded and rubbed his forehead. “I think he’s a dolphin or a shark. I get the picture of swimming really fast. Probably heading for the boat.”
Gio breathed a heavy sigh of relief. At least Baer was safe. He turned to Hale and motioned toward the two men. “Hale, this is Wiley and Dane. Great guys. They’ll get you on the boat.”
Without waiting for a response, Gio darted away, running to Lucien and Grey. “I’m safe!” he shouted. “I’m safe!”
Lucien jerked his head and flashed the biggest grin Gio had ever seen. “About time!”
“Thank fuck,” Grey groaned beside him. “I’m exhausted. Lucien, torch the house.”
Gio crashed into Lucien, wrapping his arms tightly around the man’s waist. He was about to ask about Calder, but Lucien’s joy and relief had already washed through their connection and Calder’s relief had rebounded back. Definite benefits to this mate thing. Calder knew they were both safe.
Lucien directed a new fireball at the house, torching the place. Gio sort of felt sad for the owners of the house, but they’d have insurance on a place like that. They’d be able to rebuild without the taint of the pestilents there.
The remaining attackers scattered away from the flames and the Weavers, allowing Clay, Cort, and Calder to run to their side of the island.
The Water Weaver slammed into them, a cold wet mess, but so very happy. Gio was briefly smothered in kisses from Lucien and Calder. But it didn’t last.
“Save the reunions until we’re on the mainland,” Clay barked as he stalked past them. “Gio, get the boat going. Lucien, torch the remaining boats. We don’t want them following us.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n!” Gio retorted and pulled away from his mates. He ran ahead, feet pounding on the dock boards. Dane, Wiley, Baer, and Hale were already on board. He jumped behind the helm and fired up the engine while Calder and Grey worked on untying the ropes. Cort jumped on and greeted Hale briefly before flopping into the first open seat, looking as if he were dead on his feet. Grey followed him and immediately pulled his mate into his arms.
Lucien and Clay were the last to board and then they were away, speeding into the night with the last Weaver in their possession at last. Now the pestilents had a damn good reason to be scared.
As Gio wove the boat between the islands and safely back to the dock his brother used, he noted that the Weavers weren’t in bad shape. They were battered, bruised, and a little bloody, but nothing sleep and some time with Dane couldn’t fix.
On one side of him, Lucien had an arm wrapped around his shoulders. And on the other, Calder had an arm across his waist. Gio had found his place. He was loved and loved his new mates in return. So what if they just happened to come with magic, danger, and meddling goddesses? All relationships had their trouble spots, and this was the start of a relationship that would last a lifetime.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Calder stretched and rolled over, his body sore but sated. He blinked, frowning to find that he was alone in bed. Why the hell did Lucien and Gio have to be such early risers? But even apart, he could still feel their happiness washing through him in gentle waves from the first floor. Probably chatting over breakfast.
Kicking back the covers, he rolled out of Lucien’s bed and grabbed his sleep pants from the floor. He made a quick stop in his own room for a sweat shirt. They’d been home from Charleston for only twenty-four hours and still needed to work out things like living arrangements. Gio was moving into the Weavers house, but it wasn’t like they could cram the personal effects of three people into a single room.
