Perhaps that’s simply the waves.
He opened his mouth, fangs extended, and yanked her head to the side, exposing as much of her neck as he could. Her hat rolled off her head, but she scarcely noticed the cold and frozen droplets whistling through her ears and hair.
This is it. I’m going to be eaten on a boat in the dead of winter.
But surprise suffused the vampire’s face as he was shoved aside, back to the deck. Violet scrabbled to her feet and picked up the stake and mallet that had been knocked from her hands, delivering a vicious kick to the monster’s leg when he tried to stand up again. The ice coating the deck finally seemed to have bested him, and he couldn’t rise to his feet again.
Without another second of hesitation, Samuel leaped on to the vampire and delivered a well-placed stake to the creature’s heart.
Time seemed to have stopped for an eternity as they waited for the vampire to crumble into dust. It wasn’t until he started to disintegrate that Violet realized her own heart was still pounding and her palms were sweaty under her gloves. Pure terror still coursed through her, even though the pain in her temples had finally ceased. The vampire was disposed of.
She nearly hadn’t made it. When was the last time she’d had such a close call?
Samuel grabbed her in a hug, his breath raspy in her ear. “Good God,” he said. “I nearly lost you.”
She didn’t try to argue with him. Had Samuel not been there, had he not jumped in when he did, she wouldn’t have made it off the boat. “Th-thank you,” she said, teeth chattering in the cold and in her fright. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to botch that. I…”
“It’s all right,” he said. “He’s dead. That’s the important thing.”
“The hell’s going on here?”
They couldn’t see the interloper, probably one of the boat’s crew, but they would soon. And they would probably have to have a good reason for being on the deck at this time of night, which they didn’t have.
What are they going to do? she thought. Toss us overboard?
There was still the matter of the greasy stain that had been the vampire that was still on the deck. It wasn’t bright enough to see clearly, but she was willing to wager that whoever was looking for them would have a lantern at least, if not a flameless one that offered more light. Damn it!
Samuel seemed to realize their dilemma at the same time. He quickly stepped over the stain and wrapped his arms around Violet’s waist, bringing her closer to him.
“Who’s out here? Are you crazy?” There was that voice again, and closer. Violet heard a muffled curse and a thump. He must have stumbled on the deck. Her whole body still hurt from sliding around.
Samuel slanted his mouth over hers just as the bright light of a flameless lantern was flashed in their faces. Violet gasped from surprise but didn’t pull away. Instead, she found her arms reaching around his neck and she kissed him back, forgetting for a few seconds that they were standing over a vampire’s remains, on a freezing boat at the base of Niagara Falls.
It would have been romantic, had it not been to maintain their cover, or hide those remains. Or if it hadn’t been the dead of winter.
The sound of a throat being cleared and light splashing across their eyes had them pulling apart. “You know how dangerous it is to be out here without a life vest?” The man wore a heavy fur coat, not unlike the ones the Greaves brothers wore at the haunted house the night before, and a life vest over it.
“We, um…” Violet fumbled for words. How the hell could a kiss from Samuel Seecombe of all people leave her weak-kneed and speechless?
She sneaked a glance at him. Well, the man had just saved her life. Twice. And he wasn’t bad-looking to boot, either.
But he was her colleague.
“My wife wished for some fresh air,” Samuel said briskly, rising to his full height.
“Your wife,” said the man. “Wanted some air.”
He clearly didn’t believe them, but Violet knew he wasn’t in a position to argue with them. What had they done wrong, aside from wander from the covered, poorly-heated lounge to the deck?
“Yes,” said Samuel. He pressed his hand into the small of Violet’s back. “And now that we’ve had some, we are returning to the lounge.”
“Make it quick,” the man said. “We’re turning back in a few minutes.” He waited until they walked ahead of him and held up his lantern to light the way.
“Crazy Brits,” he said, as they walked into the lounge.
“Crazy American,” Violet said softly. Samuel’s mouth quirked up at the corners.
The heat, as patchy as it was, was welcome to Violet, and she took a seat on a scarred wooden bench. Samuel sat down beside her, and Violet felt a little self-conscious. What on earth had possessed him to…
Don’t think about it too much, she chided herself. It’s been ages since a man’s taken interest in you, even if it was just to cover up a dead vampire.
As if echoing her thoughts, Samuel said, “I apologize.”
“Don’t,” she said.
“But I—”
“Sam, I’m not angry,” she said. “Nor am I going to fall to the deck in a fit of vapors.”
“You don’t seem the vapors type.”
“Nor hysterical,” she said. “You’ve saved my life twice these last few days.”
“He nearly got you,” Samuel said, his voice soft and desolate. The regret there tore at Violet’s heart, and she wrapped his hands in her own, trying to be as reassuring as she could. “I nearly had him, and I don’t think either of us are used to working under these conditions. If I hadn’t—”
“But you did. And I’m fine.” Her elbow throbbed, but the feeling had returned to it. She was going to have some terrible bruising over the next few days, but that was better than having a broken limb amputated, or viscera ripped from her body. She thought of Ada Sterling’s ordeal in London and shuddered.
The boat’s engines groaned under their feet, and through the lounge’s portholes she could see the bright lights of the town on the shore. There were a few shouts as workers docked the boat, and around them, the other passengers started to rise and shed the heavy blankets the Maid of the Mist provided.
Samuel helped Violet to her feet, taking care with her injured elbow. “Sam?” she said.
“Yes?”
“Don’t apologize for kissing me,” she said. “Ever.”
Chapter Five
Samuel didn’t let go of Violet’s arm until they were back on the cold street, terrified that if he released her, something else would slither out of a dark corner and try to hurt her again. His mind still reeled from what had happened on the boat; the images of Violet falling to the slippery deck, unable to defend herself against that vampire continuing to flash before his eyes.
His reaction reminded him of what happened to him after Radcliffe died. Even when he looked at Violet, he couldn’t keep his heart from pounding so hard against his ribs that he thought she could hear it. He couldn’t keep himself from doing it, just to make doubly sure she was still there.
And these types of incidents happened all the time during vampire hunts. It was why they preferred to work in pairs or groups. Samuel had been saved by his partners before and he’d saved others. Bert Radcliffe wasn’t the first Searcher to die in front of him, but he had been the youngest and most inexperienced. Samuel had hated the helpless feeling that overcame him every time he saw someone in danger, even though he’d still been able to do his job.
He loathed feeling insecure.
Then there was that kiss, which only made everything more muddled. She wasn’t angry about it and even seemed encouraging toward him doing it again, but it was so out of character for him that he wasn’t sure he could.
He liked and respected Violet very much. More than that, he had to admit. Which made him a very bad partner. Distractions could prove fatal in this business.
Best to keep it hidden away, like he did his grief over Radcliffe’s deat
h. Violet had chipped away at that part of himself he kept hidden from the rest of the world, and he was conflicted about that. He didn’t want to admit that weakness or his failure, but it felt good to get it off his chest, if only a little, to have Violet’s sympathetic ear and know she didn’t hate or judge him for what happened to poor Radcliffe.
Samuel did. He held himself and the entire London branch responsible for what happened to the boy. Radcliffe hadn’t been ready, but the branch had been desperate for more Searchers and brushed aside any question of him not being prepared.
The London Searchers needed more than new hunters. Like Ada Sterling had said so many months ago, everything about the way that branch functioned needed to be changed.
He forced himself out of his thoughts and returned them to the woman he still held on to. “We should return to the hotel,” Samuel said. “See about your arm.”
“It’ll be fine,” she said.
“You said that about the injury Gregoire left you with.”
“And I was fine.” She gave him a look that brooked no argument. “And I’m fine now, too.”
Samuel didn’t press her further and instead changed the subject. “Are you sensing anything?”
She shook her head. “Not yet, but the night is still young. Tremblay said there must be more vampires in the area.”
Violet was right. There were still many hours left until sunrise, and it would be irresponsible of them to return to the hotel when she insisted she was fine. He had the impression that if she wasn’t, she would tell him. Hunting with an injured partner could be just as dangerous as hunting alone.
“Do you want some roasted chestnuts?” she asked.
Roasted chestnuts? How could she think of food at a time like this? He shot her a look that he knew had to be incredulous, but she merely smiled, her sore arm and the Maid of the Mist apparently pushed aside.
For now.
Why the hell not?
“Why not?” he said, echoing his thoughts.
She smiled, and his heart unexpectedly fluttered. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened, and he knew it was all because of Violet and her quip as they left the boat. Don’t ever apologize for kissing me.
It had been impulsive, the only thing he could think to do to hide from the boat’s workers what they’d killed on the deck. And it was for himself, as well. For a few horrifying seconds he’d thought he was going to watch someone else be killed, and the relief that had poured through him had been unlike anything else he’d felt. He needed to make sure she was still there, whole and alive.
For the first time in his life, he came close to understanding what Maximilian Sterling had felt when he saw that vampire in London rip into Ada’s neck.
Violet bought some chestnuts from a street vendor before he could offer to pay for them and they kept on walking along the street. A comfortable silence descended over them as they stepped over ice, until Samuel finally had to speak about one of the things plaguing him since they arrived in Niagara Falls. “I’m not at my best right now,” he said.
“I know.” She spoke matter-of-factly, without a trace of anger or frustration in her voice. “And I don’t want you to torment yourself over it. Sooner or later Searchers have to go back into the field. We’ve faced two vampires since we arrived and destroyed both.”
“And the cellar.”
“Does the cellar really count, though? They were sleeping.” She ate a chestnut before speaking again. “You still know what to do. Your reflexes and training are still there. ‘Muscle memory,’ I think it’s called.”
She was too understanding. It would have irritated him, if he didn’t want more of it. When was the last time he messed up something and hadn’t had horrible consequences afterward? A memory of his father—also a Searcher—pushing him into a closet and locking him in for some unimportant slight when he was twelve popped up unbidden into his mind. He pushed it away impatiently.
Violet continued. “Besides all of that, we’ll have some help soon. I sent a cable to New York. No one will ignore the orders of the Searcher lieutenant.”
A role she didn’t want, he remembered. “What will the New York branch do when you resign?”
“You sound as if I’m definitely going to resign.”
“Why not? You’ve said you don’t want it.”
She shrugged. “Hold an election if necessary, but I have someone else in mind who I think would be a good fit. The Singers have been running the branch for years and it’s time someone else did it.”
“You advocate a democracy, then.”
“Yes.” She looked away for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Until my Uncle Angus took over the branch, my family ran it in a well—problematic way, I suppose. The ends always justified the means, no matter who was hurt.”
“Much the same way London still runs theirs.”
“Precisely.”
“Were your parents Searchers?”
“Yes, although they’ve both passed on now. My mother died when I was a baby. My father was the branch head but died of consumption when I was twenty. I inherited his estate.” She looked down at her half-finished box of chestnuts. “Family money, made in alchemy schemes before he was born. You know there isn’t a great deal to be made in hunting vampires.”
He did and came from family money himself.
She gave a short, frustrated sigh. “There was plenty to be made in alchemy in my great-great-great-grandfather’s time.” Her expression grew serious again. “At least until he met my vampire great-great-great-grandmother and they created my dhampir ancestors. Anyway, my father was unwilling to offer better compensation to other Searchers,” she said. “He manipulated people with the sense into continuing to work for him using moral arguments. You can’t survive on morals or good intentions.”
“And you and your uncle have tried to improve wages?”
She nodded. “We have our homes, passed down through generations, but that’s it. I’m not a particularly wealthy woman, but I have enough and I’m willing to share.”
It was more than his colleagues in London were willing to do.
At least Violet and Angus Singer understood that change needed to occur and were making strides toward it.
“That was quick thinking back on the boat,” she said.
He knew immediately what she referred to, and he felt himself blush like a lovestruck lad. He was grateful for the low light offered by the street lamps.
“Ah, well,” he said, his voice a low mumble. “I told you I’m sorry about that.”
“And I told you no apology was necessary. Look, Sam, I like and respect you. You’ve saved me twice since we met.”
Why did she want to talk about this? Not that Samuel didn’t find her intelligent or charming or attractive, because he did, but because he couldn’t say the same about himself anymore. Despite her kind words, he wasn’t the cocksure bastard he’d been before, that Ada Sterling had undoubtedly told her all about.
He hated feeling weak and unsure.
Six months ago, he would’ve done more than kiss her if given the opportunity.
He wouldn’t have apologized for doing it, either.
Samuel had completely lost sight of who he was, and Violet didn’t seem to understand that. He didn’t know how to respond to her, or anyone, anymore.
He realized belatedly that she was waiting for a response. “I like and respect you as well,” he said, his voice stiff. The words he would have used before Radcliffe’s death escaped him; all he could remember in that moment was that they would probably be crude and lascivious.
He may as well be honest.
“Violet, I’m not who I used to be,” he said.
“I know. You’ve told me yourself several times. And Ada and Max had quite a bit to say after they returned from Europe, but they aren’t angry with you anymore.”
“I’m certain they did. I didn’t make the best impression on Mr. or Mrs. Sterling when we met.” He’d already told her that;
he’d already apologized to the Sterlings. Why was he babbling?
Because you want Violet and don’t know how to tell her that without making an even bigger fool of yourself than you already have.
He forced himself to continue. “I’m still finding out who I am now, what I want.”
“Are you considering leaving the Searchers?” Her voice held no trace of judgment, just curiosity.
“No,” he replied, honestly. “But I think you and your uncle are right for changing the way the New York branch works. The way the Searchers are operating now is unsustainable. Change is going to take a long time.” He forced some levity into his voice. “But it’s possible.”
If he could get the rest of the British Searchers to see the light. That was a big if.
****
They returned to the hotel at daybreak, neither having sensed any other vampires. There was a cable from the New York branch waiting for them when they arrived, which Violet eagerly opened once they reached their room. A smile bloomed across her face as she read the contents.
“Ed and Molly Burgess are arriving this afternoon,” she said. Relief poured through her at the thought of help from her friends. Well, friend, technically. Molly didn’t do field work.
“Burgess?” Samuel said.
“Ada’s brother and sister-in-law. You would’ve met them at the wedding.” She stripped off her heavy coat and scarf, wincing as pain zinged through her sore arm. Stupid vampire. And stupid me, for falling over.
Samuel picked up on her discomfort immediately. “Let me take a look at that,” he said. “It’s been injured twice since we arrived here.”
“And I told you isn’t that bad.” She flexed her fingers. “See? I can use it just fine.
He gave her a withering look, one she’d never seen before, that questioned her ability to tell the truth. She sighed. It wouldn’t hurt to let him look at it. “Fine,” she said. If he was going to insist on examining her… She started unbuttoning her blouse, noting that shoulder throbbed a little when she moved her arm just so. Her arm was tender, but not broken.
He looked a little alarmed when he saw what she was doing. “Sam,” she said, “It isn’t as though you haven’t seen me undressed before. You want to do an examination, you can do an examination.” She shrugged out of her blouse and draped it over the back of the room’s straight-backed chair.
The Falls (The Searchers Book 3) Page 7
