Ivy stared at him for a long beat. “It wasn’t my favorite part of the day, but it was hardly the end of the world. I ran into Rowan and we talked about stuff. I like her.”
“Wow. That’s two women you’ve managed to make friends with in the space of a few months,” Jack teased. “First Harper and now Rowan. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were softening.”
“Don’t push things.” Ivy extended a warning finger. “Most women don’t like me. I can’t explain it.”
“You’re different and people are jerks.”
“I don’t have that problem with men.”
“That’s because you’re beautiful and men like women who are different. How else do you explain the fact that I fell head over heels for you the second I saw you?”
“I don’t think it was the first second.”
“I think it was pretty close.”
Ivy impulsively leaned closer and pressed her head to Jack’s chest for a moment. “It’s okay that you wanted to ask questions about Margaret Adkins. I get it. You can’t turn off what you are and I don’t want you to change. I like you the way you are.”
“You wish I would’ve spent that time with you, though.”
“No. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
Jack stroked the back of her head. “This is a special occasion for both of us. I shouldn’t have left you on your own. If you want to know the truth, I think part of it was the fact that I like messing with Quinn. He’s kind of funny.”
Ivy chuckled. “I figured that out myself. You have a special ability to needle people that I truly admire.”
“It won’t happen again.” Jack cupped her chin and stared into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I want to be with you. That’s why I booked this trip in the first place. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
Ivy didn’t go gooey and throw her arms around him. Instead, she snorted. “Oh, it’s going to happen again. You won’t be able to help yourself.”
“I’m in control of my actions.”
“I bet you a really long massage that you’re back to asking questions by lunch tomorrow.”
“You’re on.”
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY you’re so worked up about this,” Quinn said as he watched Rowan saunter out of the bathroom. She was dressed in a pretty yellow slip dress, the color making her features look somehow brighter, and he liked the way the flip skirt danced around her legs. “I’ve seen the symbol before. Obviously you’re not the only one who can see it.”
“You saw it after I pointed it out to you,” Rowan explained, grabbing her purse from the dresser and looking inside to make sure her keycard was accounted for. “I remember that day very well. I was upset because I saw the omen in a photograph. I didn’t know what to do. I needed your help. I showed you the omen in the photo, convinced you wouldn’t be able to see it, but you surprised me and not only saw the omen but believed what I was telling you. You didn’t see it before I showed you the photo.”
“I’m not sure that’s exactly fair,” Quinn argued. “I wasn’t spending all my time following you around and looking at photos over your shoulder. I might have seen the omen on my own. We’ll never know. Now I know what to look for.”
“Yeah, but ... Ivy saw it clear as day.”
“I don’t know why that’s important.”
“It’s important because no one led her to answers. She found questions on her own.”
“Wow, that was almost poetic, sweetheart,” Quinn teased, poking her side to cajole a smile. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“Probably not.”
Quinn barreled forward anyway. “I think you like Ivy and want to ascribe motivations and potential that probably don’t exist.”
“I do like her but that doesn’t change the fact that she recognized the symbol. She recognized multiple symbols. I showed her a variety of photos and she saw the symbols in all of them. I even dug out old photos to be sure.”
Quinn heaved out a sigh. She obviously wasn’t going to let this go. “Okay, she can see the symbols.” He searched for an explanation. The one he came up with was interesting. “Do you think it’s possible that she’s like you?”
“She doesn’t even take photos. She said she doesn’t know anything about cameras.”
“See, I’m not sure this ability of yours — whatever it is — has anything to do with you being a photographer,” Quinn hedged. “I’ve often wondered if you’re capable of doing other things. Given everything that’s going on with your father, though, I didn’t want to bring that up until things were more settled.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that. What does that mean?”
“I think maybe you’re capable of other things.”
“Like what?”
“I have no idea, but if Ivy is capable of other things, she might actually be able to lead us to answers,” Quinn replied. “I did some research on what you told me. The symbol that looked like a little woman. Sally called it the crone, right?”
Rowan nodded.
“The crone basically referred to a witch in olden times,” Quinn explained. “I think that was probably an easy way to refer to someone with magical abilities, but who knows? Ivy has a penchant for dressing a certain way and carrying herself with authority. Maybe she is a witch.”
“I don’t think witches are real,” Rowan argued.
“And I didn’t think photographers seeing omens in pictures was a thing until I met you,” Quinn supplied. “I was thrown for a loop at the start of it, but the more I think about it, the more I’m starting to wonder if there’s more than one type of magical being out there.”
Rowan tilted her head to the side, considering. “I’m not sure I like being referred to as ‘magical.’ It’s kind of weird ... and hokey.”
“Well, you’re going to need to get used to it. You are magical. The things you can do are magical. I find everything about you magical. You need to suck it up.”
Rowan turned rueful. “I think you’re just saying that to soften me up so I throw myself at you and rain kisses all over your face.”
Quinn’s grin was mischievous as he wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her body so it was flush with his. “I like the idea of you raining kisses on me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He nodded as he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was simple, sweet. It also promised more for later. “That’s better,” he sighed as he rested his cheek against her forehead. “Have I mentioned how much I love you?”
“I love you, too. That doesn’t change the fact that I think there’s something different about Ivy.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s something bad.”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s bad.” Rowan’s lips curved against his shoulder. “I think it’s going to be interesting, though.”
“Then I’m looking forward to figuring out exactly what secret she’s hiding with you.”
“I guess we have a plan, huh?”
“We definitely do.”
“I’M AMAZED AT THE VEGETARIAN offerings this ship has,” Ivy said as she settled at a small table with Jack in the dining room. She was careful as she arranged the skirt of her dress to make sure it didn’t accidentally fly up, something Jack found amusing. “They have at least three choices at every meal. Most places would offer a salad and be done with it.”
“That was one of the questions I asked when I called,” Jack admitted. “I was worried because cruise ships are known for seafood and fried American fare. If you couldn’t eat, I was going to pick a different vacation.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ivy was officially intrigued. “Like what?”
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about our honeymoon yet. Where do you want to go?”
The question caught Ivy off guard. “I haven’t really thought about it either,” she admitted. “I’ve been so busy arguing with my mother about the fact that I want a small wedding and I’m not sure about wearing white that I ha
ven’t had a lot of time to think about other things.”
“You’re not wearing white?”
Ivy shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet. I might go with some color ... unless you don’t like that idea. Do you want a traditional wedding?”
“I just want you. I don’t care about the type of wedding we have. If you want to strip down naked and get married in the backyard, I’m totally up for that.”
Ivy didn’t want to encourage him, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Yes, well, I’m open to suggestions.” Jack cracked a crab leg and dipped it in butter. “Is there a specific reason you don’t want to wear white?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a virgin so ... white is for virgins.”
“I think that’s an oversimplification,” he countered. “That’s what it was supposed to mean a long time ago. Now it’s simply tradition.”
“Yeah.” Ivy scrubbed her cheek. “I was thinking about more of a rose white, but if you want a traditional white dress, I’m sure I can figure something out.”
Jack held up his hand to still her. “Wait ... what color is rose white?”
“It’s white with a hint of pink.”
“So you are wearing white.”
“Rose white. It’s not the same as traditional white.”
“Women,” Jack muttered, shaking his head. “I have news for you, honey, all those colors you don’t think are white because they’re a tiny bit different, well, men think of all fifty thousand of those colors as white. I should’ve realized what you were talking about after we painted the basement together and you tried to tell me cream and ecru were different colors.”
“They are.”
“Only to a woman.” He snickered at her indignant expression. “It doesn’t matter. I was simply surprised when you said you weren’t wearing white. Now that I know you really are wearing white, we can put that behind us and focus on other things.”
“Like what?”
“Like what kind of cake do you want? I’m leaning toward chocolate even though it might not be traditional.”
“Nice save.”
“I thought so.” Jack winked as she shoveled lasagna into her mouth. “If you don’t want to talk about cake, we can talk about something else. I’m still keen to talk about our honeymoon. Where do you want to go?”
Since honeymoon talk was happier than arguing about different shades of white, Ivy shifted her attention. “There’s a beautiful campground in the Upper Peninsula, a place that has like fifty small waterfalls to hike to. We could go there.”
Jack made a face. “Do you remember the last time we went camping?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you’ll ever get me to go camping again after that trip?”
Ivy chuckled. “Actually, I’m willing to bet you give in and go camping with me again if I press you on the issue. You’re too giving to take camping away from me. It’s probably not a honeymoon thing, though. I ... .” She didn’t get a chance to finish because at that exact moment, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as a loud crash filled the air. In the split second after, the room was plunged into darkness.
“Jack?”
“I’m here, honey.” Jack shifted so he could see the wall closest to them, sighing in relief when the emergency lights kicked on. They weren’t overly bright but would allow them to escape from the dining room. “I think the power simply flashed because it’s storming out.”
As if on cue, another rumble of thunder filled the air.
“It’s just a storm,” Ivy murmured, although the idea didn’t sit well with her. “How are we supposed to get back in our rooms if the keycards don’t work?”
“I’m not sure,” Jack replied honestly. “I think we should get out of here until the lights come back on, though. I don’t like sitting here mostly in the dark like this. It makes me feel claustrophobic.”
“Okay.” Ivy instinctively reached over the table and found Jack’s hand waiting for her. “How did you know I was trying to touch you?”
“Because I always want to touch you. Come on.”
The trip to the exit door wasn’t exactly easy. Jack and Ivy weren’t the only ones to embrace the idea of escape. The bulk of the people eating opted to stay in their seats — which was probably wise — but Jack wasn’t a fan of feeling closed in. Ever since he was shot in the chest and left to die in an alley, his lung not properly inflating and causing him to feel as if he was being smothered, he hadn’t been a fan of oppressive darkness and closed spaces. Technically the dining room was open and airy, but the lack of light made Jack feel otherwise.
“We’ll find a spot away from everyone,” Jack suggested, keeping a firm grip on Ivy as they weaved through the confused people. “We’ll just take a break.”
Ivy didn’t like the stress she heard in his voice, but she wisely opted against commenting on it. “That sounds good.”
“Stay close, honey. This place is a madhouse.”
“I’m with you ... always.”
Jack squeezed her hand. “That’s just the way I like it.”
Ivy remained focused on what was ahead of her and tuned out everything else, until it was almost like being trapped in an echo chamber. Technically people were talking and conversing — and panicking — on every side of her, but she focused on nothing but Jack. They were close to the exit doors, she knew that, but they still had several small groups to fight their way through.
It was in the middle of one of these groups when Ivy’s muffled world fell away and something else came into sharp focus. For one brief moment, Ivy wondered if she’d been called into a dream. That was the only thing she could think of to explain what she was seeing ... and feeling. That didn’t fit the scenario, though. Her hand was still clasped tightly with Jack’s and she was aware they were in the dining room. The other vision, though, was loud, brash, and overbearing.
Ivy stumbled as she tried to absorb what she was seeing, quick flashes of screaming and violence momentarily overwhelming her. She lost her footing as she tried to keep up, images of another place cascading through her mind at a fantastic clip.
Ivy recognized she was falling but couldn’t force her body to react quickly enough to remedy the situation. All she knew was that the floor was racing up — or perhaps she was racing down, she wasn’t sure — and an impact was imminent.
Instead, at the very last second, Jack swooped in and caught her, using his powerful muscles to suspend her momentum and press her to his chest.
“Ivy, are you okay?”
Ivy gasped in response.
“Honey?” Jack’s eyes filled with worry as she forced herself to focus on his handsome face. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“I don’t know.” Ivy had no idea how to explain what she saw. The images were a mess in her head. “Get me out of here, Jack. There are too many people. I can’t breathe.”
“I’ve got you.” Jack hoisted Ivy to her feet and pulled her in front of him, using his body as a shield at her back as he carefully cleared a path toward the door. “We’re almost there. I’ll have you outside in a second.”
“Great. I’ll be able to breathe then.”
“Me, too.” He tightened his grip on her out of instinct. “And then you can tell me what just happened, because I’m dying to know.”
“I’m not sure you’re going to feel that way after.”
“Well, we’ll figure it out either way. You’re stuck with me for life, for better or for worse. You’ll tell me and we’ll figure out what’s to be done.”
“I’m not sure anything can be done.”
“We won’t know until we talk about it. Come on.”
Eleven
The power outage was brief.
By the time Jack got Ivy to an open spot in the corner of the lobby, the lights were back on and the rest of the guests seemed happy to forget about the short interruption and return to whatever they were doi
ng beforehand.
Jack wasn’t that easily settled.
“What happened?” He pushed Ivy’s hair away from her face and stared into her sea-blue eyes.
“I saw something.” Ivy wasn’t sure how to explain what happened during the melee. “It was almost more like I felt something ... from inside someone else’s head.”
Most other men would’ve balked at the explanation. This was hardly the first time Ivy had done something fantastical, though. “Tell me.”
“It was weird.”
“I’m used to weird. I like weird.”
Ivy managed a ghost of a smile. “You would have to like weird to be with me, huh?”
“In your case I love weird. I was talking about your brother when I said I liked it.”
That got a full-blown laugh from Ivy, although it was only a short burst and then she sobered. “I was trying to tune everyone else out. I don’t like crowds. I focused on your hand ... and putting one foot in front of the other. I just wanted to get out.”
“You and me both. I don’t like feeling penned in.”
“No. I know.” She patted the spot above his heart, where his scars were located, and swallowed hard. “I think I went into some form of a trance. I don’t know how else to explain it. I saw the view off the deck of the ship ... and someone was screaming ... and I could smell blood. It has a distinctive smell.”
“I know, honey.” He kissed her cheek. “Did you see what the woman looked like?”
Ivy shook her head. “No. It was more like I was seeing things from her point of view, if that makes sense.”
None of it made sense to Jack. This wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed something through someone else’s eyes, though. “You’ve done this before.”
“I’ve found myself in the head of a killer,” Ivy countered. “This time I was in the head of the victim. I didn’t think anything could be worse than feeling what a predator feels. I was wrong. I don’t like being the prey.”
Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus Page 30
