Page 12 of Hammerhead (Kinkaid Shifters #4)

L ater that day, after an abbreviated work shift was complete, the hammerheads all arrived on the deck of the boat around the same time. Jose and the others went off toward their cabin, but Miguel stayed on deck for a moment, looking around casually to see if he could spot Deidre.

But the footfalls that came up behind him didn’t belong to Deidre. He’d felt Ibrahim’s presence long before he saw him. The man moved like a predator even in his human form. Always had. Even when they weren’t on a battlefield, he carried himself like a man ready to fight his way out of anything.

The deck was quiet. Most of the crew was busy working while the hammerheads had completed a task that allowed them to break early. The island hadn’t made an appearance yet today, for which Miguel was oddly grateful.

Ibrahim stopped a few feet away, silent for a long moment. Then he shook his head and muttered.

“I hate this.”

Miguel smirked but didn’t look at him. “Yeah?”

“I hate being backed into a corner. I hate being told I have to pick a side. I hate that committing to the Light feels like another leash around my damn neck.”

Miguel finally turned, crossing his arms. “So don’t do it.”

“Screw you, Miguel.” Ibrahim scowled.

Miguel arched a brow, waiting. Ibrahim exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his head.

“Oh, fuck it all. I’m in,” he finally said. The words were grudging, pushed out like they physically hurt him. Miguel stayed silent, letting him talk.

“I’m not saying I trust any of this,” Ibrahim continued, pacing now, tension rolling off him in waves. “I don’t trust the Light. I don’t trust fate, or destiny, or any of that mystical bullshit. But…” He exhaled roughly. “I trust you. And I trust the pod.”

Miguel studied him. “And that’s enough?”

Ibrahim stopped pacing, turning to face him. “It has to be.” He squared his shoulders. “You lead, I follow. You say we work for the Light, then fine. But I’m not here to serve some higher purpose. I’m here for us.”

Miguel considered that, then nodded. “Fair enough.”

A muscle ticked in Ibrahim’s jaw. “Just… don’t expect me to start praying to the Goddess or any of that mumbo jumbo.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Miguel chuckled.

Silence stretched between them, the only sound the rhythmic lapping of waves against the hull. Finally, Ibrahim let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

“This better not come back to bite us in the ass.”

“Oh, it absolutely will.” Miguel smirked.

Ibrahim groaned. “Of course it will.”

Miguel clapped a hand on his shoulder, grip firm. “But at least now, we’ll be in the fight together. And we can hold our heads up high around these Kinkaids.”

Ibrahim held his gaze, something unreadable flickering behind his dark eyes. Then he huffed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, yeah. Just try not to get us all killed, capit?o .”

Miguel grinned. “No promises.”

And just like that, Ibrahim had made his choice. Grudging. Stubborn. But real. And in the end—that was all Miguel had needed to hear.

Ibrahim left and Miguel was going to seek out Deidre, but a clamor arose from the deck above, followed by a loud boom from the direction of the oil rig. Miguel looked around to see what was going on and watched in horror as more than a few of the workers from the platform fell to the waves far, far below.

“Oh, shit,” Jose appeared at Miguel’s elbow, cursing. He was already shedding the clothes he’d just put on and was running for the rail.

Miguel was right behind him. Those men who worked on the platform were mostly land shifters, he knew. They would need help if the fall hadn’t killed them outright. All around, selkies and shark shifters were stripping and diving into the water from whatever handy rail was closest, all swimming out as fast as they could to help retrieve the men who had fallen into the icy depths while the remaining people on the rig dealt with the small fire that had resulted from the explosion.

The captain of the boat fired up the engines and moved closer to where the men had fallen, but the shifters were already well on their way to the site. Miguel and Jose had shifted to their shark forms, and their wide range of vision helped them spot two men who were clearly unconscious and sinking deeper. Jose went for the one on the left while Miguel swam for the man on the right.

Getting his hammerhead under the man’s limp body, Miguel pushed to the surface as quickly as he could. The man wasn’t breathing, and it was important to get the water out of his system as quickly as possible if they were to save his life. The man had other problems too. Miguel saw a broken leg, at least, and suspected there might be internal injuries after such a long fall. The surface of the ocean at that distance wasn’t as forgiving as diving into a swimming pool from only a few meters.

And the men Miguel had seen hadn’t been diving. They’d been falling in whatever position the blast had put them in. Depending on how they hit the water’s surface, they could have all sorts of injuries. Miguel and all his men had basic first-aid training from their mercenary days. One didn’t last very long in the soldier-of-fortune business without knowing how to patch each other up until they could get to real medical personnel.

Miguel shifted into his human form as he broke the surface of the water and caught the man in his arms. He manipulated him into position and did his best to help clear the water from the man’s lungs. The guy was a shifter, so it didn’t take much effort. Shifters had all sorts of natural advantages over regular humans, and Miguel had just a slight touch of magic that allowed him to help expel some of the water from the man’s lungs magically.

The man’s own reflexes did the rest as he began to choke and cough up the water that had invaded his system. Miguel held him securely above water while he caught his breath, noticing when the man turned his head to try to see Miguel behind him.

“Are you good?” Miguel asked. “I will tow you to the boat so they can see about your leg. Any other breaks that you’re aware of?”

“Probably a couple ribs,” the man said, gasping only a little as he recovered his breath more completely. “Thanks, man. You saved my life.”

“Happy to help,” Miguel said quickly. “Now, I’m going to put my arm under yours and tow you that way, all right? If it’s too painful, let me know, and we’ll figure out something else.”

“I’m good to go,” the man said stoically, not making a peep of protest when Miguel started pulling him through the water.

It had to hurt, but the sooner they got this part out of the way, the sooner the guy could get on the road to recovery. Miguel saw his brother hauling his own rescue toward the boat ahead of him, and a few of his other friends doing the same. A few of the selkies had guys under tow as well.

Miguel sent a quick prayer up to the Mother of All, hoping they’d found everyone who’d fallen. It would be truly awful if they lost anyone.

When he reached the boat, which had come a lot closer to the scene, there were helping hands ready to assist the man up onto the deck. Miguel caught Tom’s eye.

“Did you get a count? Did we get them all?” Miguel asked, ready to turn around and do a search grid, if necessary.

But Tom was nodding. “I talked to the guys on the rig. Fire’s out, and everyone is accounted for between those that are still on the rig and those we have here.” He looked around at the deck, now littered with the bodies of the wounded and the small crowd that was tending to them. “They lost two men up top, but everybody here is alive and looks to stay that way.” Tom nodded in satisfaction, then looked back at Miguel. “Thank you for diving in. You and your guys were an immense help.”

“Glad to assist,” Miguel replied quickly, not quite comfortable with the almost-praise. “Is there anything else we can do? Most of us just have basic first-aid training, but if there’s something shipboard, or even up on the rig, that we can do to free up those with more expertise, we’d be glad to do it.”

“That’s much appreciated,” Tom replied immediately. “We could use more help on the bridge. Got any experience running boats?”

Miguel nodded. “My brother and I ran commercial fishing boats only a little smaller than this one when we were younger. Before we went into soldiering.” Miguel sent his brother a hand signal, and Jose jogged over.

“Good. You two go up to the bridge. Tell ‘em I sent you and what you can do,” Tom ordered, already heading toward one of the fallen men to help.

“Roger that,” Miguel replied, and he and Jose went up to the bridge.

What followed was a night spent keeping the boat running smoothly while the men who’d been on the bridge went down to the deck. Both of the men they replaced were trained medics and were able to do quite a bit to help the injured.

Miguel noticed that Deidre was down on deck too. She was helping set broken bones and applying pressure bandages and butterfly closures until the victims’ shifter healing abilities could kick in and close the wounds.

Once Miguel and Jose were alone on the bridge, Jose turned to his older brother.

“What the fuck was that? Kettering, you think?”

Miguel wanted to shrug it off, but he had an uneasy feeling that the chicken named Kettering had just come home to roost. Shit .

“I think the possibility has to be considered,” Miguel said carefully.

He really did not want to have this conversation. Not with anyone. But he knew he’d have to talk to his brother, at the very least. Likely, he’d have to talk to the Kinkaids about his suspicions, too, but he had to figure out a way to do it without making him and his men look like the blackguards they had been.

“Damn, bro.” Jose shook his head. “What are you going to do?”

For a fleeting moment, Miguel resented the fact that he was the one who had to come up with a plan on how to straddle the line once more. Sharks weren’t like other shifters. They didn’t really go in for the Pack structure. But somehow, he’d ended up as the leader of his little group of ex-military hammerheads and he had better suck it up and come up with a viable strategy. There was a lot riding on this. Not only his pod and their safety, but also his relationship with Deidre. He didn’t want anything to screw that up. Not when it had only really just gotten started.

“I’m going to have to find a way to talk to the Kinkaids about what we know,” Miguel said. “Without implicating us too badly.”

Jose whistled low through his teeth. “That isn’t going to be easy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Miguel felt his frustration rise again, but tamped it down. He had to think. Maybe bouncing a few ideas of Jose would help. “I got a text from Luis. On the burner.”

“No shit. Are you going to answer it?” Jose turned toward Miguel and met his gaze, one eyebrow rising in question.

“I think, after today, I have to, if only to see what information I can get out of him,” Miguel replied, not really liking the idea, but seeing no viable alternative.

“When?”

Miguel liked his brother’s firm tone. It said that Jose would support Miguel in whatever he decided to do. No matter what. As it should be between brothers.

“I think, tomorrow. Let him stew for another day and see what shakes out from Kinkaid’s investigation of whatever happened up on the rig.”

“Ah.” Jose nodded. “Good plan. I’ll back you up, no matter what. Just say the word.”

“Thanks, bro,” Miguel replied, gratified by his brother’s staunch support. He was a good kid.

A good man—he corrected himself—with almost as much military experience as Miguel, and a good head on his shoulders. Miguel had to remind himself of that every once in a while when he started thinking of Jose as his kid brother. The kid wasn’t really a kid anymore, and damn, was Miguel proud of the man he’d become.

They watched over the boat while the Kinkaids scrambled to take care of their people, keeping everybody afloat and safe on the Gulf waters through the night.