But why now? Why hadn’t Alucard triggered me before? What had changed?
I groaned and rolled over, fetching my phone from my bug-out bag. While I was here, I might as well do what I’d said I was going to. I hadn’t been lying; I really did have a phone call to make. I’d almost forgotten, but I couldn’t leave without at least checking in with Othello, especially if I was about to run off to Fae for an indefinite period of time. I found her contact number and hit the call button.
“Well, hello. How are you enjoying your cruise?” Othello answered, sounding a little sleepy, but definitely smug.
“I’m goin’ to cut ye the next time I see ye, I hope ye know that,” I replied, recalling my anger from the day before. “The Gateway led to a dark bedroom, ye harlot!”
Othello laughed so loud and hard I had to hold the phone away from my ear to prevent early-onset deafness. “That’s what you get for stealing things that don’t belong to you!” she crowed, still chortling.
“Aye, ye got me,” I admitted. “Although I’m still not sure how ye got Callie in on it.”
Othello made an indelicate sound. “It wasn’t hard. I found out about Narcissus’ cruise business from Midas, checked the manifest, and saw our friend Dorian would be onboard. Tracking her down proved easy enough. You’ll be interested to know Callie was in on the joke—she bet me fifty American dollars that you would shoot Dorian.”
“Not yet,” I said, deciding not to mention how close I’d come to unloading a full clip in him this morning. “But then the day’s still young,” I added.
Othello chuckled. “So it is. But it’s a win-win, from my perspective. Anyway,” she said, “what can I help you with, now?”
“Nothin’ major,” I said. “I just wanted to check in to see if you’ve heard anythin’ or found any new leads on Christoff since we last talked. I woke up with a bad feelin’ in me stomach, and can’t shake the sense that he needs me.”
“You know I’d have called you if we found anything new,” Othello said, her amusement completely gone. “Quinn…you have to start thinking about what it means—them not coming back.”
I shook my head. “I’m not naïve. I know the odds. But I’m tellin’ ye Christoff and Hilde are alive, and they’re out there, somewhere. And every second we aren’t out there tryin’ to find ‘em is a second longer Hilde’s team and Christoff’s kids go without.” I finished the last with a snarl, a hot wave of anger surging up.
Othello was silent for a moment. “If I hear anything, and you aren’t back yet, I’ll go myself.”
“Othello, that’s not—” I began.
“It’s not a favor,” Othello said. “Not for you, anyway. I would prefer Christoff’s children grow up with a father, and Jeffries is an old friend of Nate’s. If the Russian government has them, as I suspect, then I’d be better off going it alone, anyway. That accent of yours could draw the wrong kind of attention in the Motherland.”
I didn’t know what to say. If I was being honest with myself, I’d only called because I felt horribly guilty about leaving, knowing Christoff and Hilde could be found at any moment. I hadn’t actually expected to feel better by the time I got off the phone—it’s just that sometimes it helps to talk it out. But knowing that Othello would make it her personal mission to rescue my friends…I had to admit that took a huge weight off my shoulders.
One I hadn’t realized was there.
“T’anks, Othello,” I said, finally.
“You are welcome. Anyway, how’s Alucard? Has he been behaving himself? Have you shot him yet?”
I cringed. “Aye, he’s been the perfect gentleman.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming…”
“It’s not his behavior that’s the problem,” I admitted.
“What is it then?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“I’m honestly not sure. A minute ago he was standin’ a couple feet away, and I had the strongest urge to touch him. So strong I had to basically sit on me hands. It wasn’t,” I added, interrupting Othello’s giggling fit, “like that. Listen, I wanted to touch him like I wanted to touch Appleseed. The bad touch.”
Othello’s laughter died almost immediately. “The last time that happened, you nearly destroyed a cultural landmark, Quinn,” Othello cautioned, referring to the brief power surge I’d given Appleseed during our tussle with the Grigori—angelic watchers—on the Brooklyn Bridge. He’d created an entire forest out of a handful of seeds to defend us, and gridlocked New York City’s transit system for weeks in the process. “Not to mention the fact that you almost died,” she added.
The police department and every state university were still trying to come up with a rational explanation for how a veritable forest suddenly sprouted over a stretch of the Brooklyn Bridge.
“I know,” I said, groaning. I thrust my face down into the tangled sheets, pressing my forehead against the mattress so hard I saw spots, the sheets still damp from my sweat. “What am I goin’ to do?”
“Well, were you planning on touching him?”
“No,” I growled. And, too tired to bother lying to myself, I added, “But I would’ve liked the option.”
Othello laughed louder than she had before, somehow. I checked to make sure I hadn’t accidentally hit the speakerphone button—nope. “I’m gettin’ off the phone now, Othello,” I said, holding the phone out in front of me.
“Wait! No, Quinn, one more thing before you go. This is important.”
“What?” I asked, drawing the phone to my ear once more.
“According to the website, the cruise is clothing optional…does every part of Alucard glow in the sunlight?”
I hung up, cutting off her cackling laughter.
Punk ass hacker.
I stepped up to the bathroom door right as Alucard stepped out. He had a towel slung over his shoulders, his chest bare. He wasn’t as heavily muscled as I’d expected, but what muscle he had was dense and firm—he looked like those construction workers you see tearing houses apart with their naked, calloused hands. His hair was still wet and dripping; droplets of water fell onto his chest and ran down, snaking their way suggestively down his body.
“My eyes are up here, cher,” Alucard said, grinning.
I blinked rapidly, trying to look away, but ended up having to pin a hand over my eyes. “I need ye to put on clothes,” I said, my cheeks flushed.
“Am I that distracting?” he asked, the dulcet sound of his accent sending shivers up my spine. He also sounded as if he had stalked closer.
“Aye!” I yelled, stomping the ground with one foot. “No. Go away!” I peered through my fingers and saw the hurt on Alucard’s face, only for an instant, before it disappeared.
“Alright. Need me to keep watch at the door?”
“No. If anyone comes in while I’m gettin’ around, I’ll tear off the only t’ing that makes ‘em feel like a man!” I yelled, making sure the whole floor could hear me.
Alucard nodded curtly, and then stepped aside. I kept my eyes averted until I knew he was gone, then ducked into the bathroom and headed immediately for the showers, snatching the darkest Loofah I could find. I had the water running before I realized I was nearly hyperventilating. I ducked under the spray without even bothering to take my clothes off or waiting for it to get hot.
And I stood there until I no longer pictured Alucard’s half-naked body.
It was a long shower.
When I got back to the room, I was pleasantly surprised to find Alucard waiting for me, my duffel beside him on the bed. Honestly, if he’d have yelled at me like I had him, I’d have been long gone by now. Especially if I could go all Human Torch and fly away. I slung my bug-out bag over my shoulder and fidgeted with my t-shirt—a slightly baggy number I’d stolen from a bin upstairs with the Symposium of the Seas logo splashed across the chest. We’d only been gone a day, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to wear a shirt I couldn’t give a shit about, in case our first foray into Fae got a little messy.
Alw
ays be prepared, right?
“I’m sorry,” I said, before he could hop up off the bed.
“What?” Alucard asked, frozen halfway between sitting and standing in an awkward crouch.
“Sorry,” I repeated. “It’s a t’ing ye say when ye act like an idgit and want the other person to forgive ye. Or so I hear,” I added.
“For yelling at me?” Alucard asked, cocking one eyebrow. “I’ve had a lot worse done and said to me than that, cher. Don’t worry about it.” He rose and moved to pass me, headed for the hallway, but I blocked him, my hands thrust firmly into the pockets of my jeans. I ground my teeth together, but managed not to reach out and touch him. Barely.
“There’s a reason I yelled,” I explained. “And I want ye to know it wasn’t your fault. Listen…” I took a deep breath. “How much d’ye know about me power?”
Alucard cocked an eyebrow. “Only what you’ve told me. There’s a field. It negates magic. Turns Freaks into Regulars, more or less. Slowed me down, I know that much.”
I considered that, then nodded. That about summed it up, albeit in a very unsophisticated way. “Right. Now, I need ye to forget all that.”
“And why’s that, cher?”
“Because that’s not me power, at all,” I replied. Looked like I’d have to fill Alucard in sooner rather than later; I’d always planned to, but figured it could wait until we were in Fae…in case he wasn’t fond of my plan. Easier to ask forgiveness than to ask permission, after all. “Listen,” I began, “the whole reason I’m goin’ to Fae is to figure this out for meself, which means I don’t know nearly as much as I’d like to. But, basically, me field is really more like a cage. It’s keepin’ me real power—whatever it is—locked away. The Winter Queen wanted to help me set it free, but,” I stared down at my wrist, where the silver charm with a single, solitary crow still hung, “what she wanted in return wasn’t exactly ideal.”
Alucard frowned. “Yeah. I met the frosty bitch with Nate, once, and I expect she wouldn’t have given you the better end of whatever deal she offered.” He watched me, sensing my barely restrained agitation. “Alright…so what precisely does your…cage have to do with you yelling at me, again? I didn’t follow that bit.”
“Me power wants ye,” I confessed, glaring up at Alucard, able to meet his eyes for the first time since we’d woken up. “It wants ye somethin’ fierce. Which is bad all on its own. But factor in the last time it wanted me to touch someone this badly—"
“The bridge,” Alucard said, his voice soft and thoughtful, no longer amused. “I remember.”
I nodded, having momentarily forgotten that he and Othello were the ones who’d been waiting for me to wake up at the hospital after I’d gone into a coma. “Right. So, basically, I need ye to stop bein’ your charmin’ self until I can get a handle on t’ings, alright? And I need ye to keep your distance, while you’re at it.”
Alucard nodded, weighing me with his eyes. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, matching me. “Alright, cher. But I have to confess something, while we’re here…”
I frowned, studying the vampire’s face. “What?”
“I hope we figure out your power soon, because I wouldn’t mind you looking at me the way you did before, without the magic getting in the way,” he said, not a hint of a grin on his face, staring directly into my eyes.
“See, now that,” I said, jerking my chin at him. “No more of that.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “As you wish. For now, anyway…”
“That either,” I growled, spinning on my heel and marching away, shoulders bowed.
“You do realize that now I’m particularly inclined to help you light a signal fire in Fae, right, cher?” he called out from behind me. Then he began whistling—a pleasant chiming sound. I gritted my teeth, refusing to look back at him.
Goddamned Southern bastard probably couldn’t even help himself.
Which meant I was in for a long Faecation.
Chapter 11
Narcissus and Dorian were the only two men abovedeck, despite the morning sun poking out beyond the clouds, sending shimmers across the ocean in all directions. My guess was the other patrons were still in bed, sleeping it—whatever it was—off. Or busy trying to wash off all the glitter.
That, or my vagina magic was keeping them at bay, somehow. For some reason, the latter possibility made me giggle to myself.
“Nice to see you two could join us,” Narcissus called, nursing a tiny cup of what looked like liquid tar. He tilted the cup and took a sip, licking his lips when he was finished, his tongue a murky shade of brown.
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
“Greek coffee,” Dorian replied, pouring himself a cup. “Potent stuff. Did you know that the Greeks will sometimes read your fortune from the coffee grounds left over in your cup? It’s called tasseography. Quite the party trick.”
“It’s not a party trick, Dorian,” Narcissus admonished.
“Well, not when you do it, Petal,” Dorian replied. He glanced over at the two of us. “Narcissus here learned how to read such things from The Oracle of Delphi herself. Got her drunk and had her explain the whole process, start to finish.”
“Whatever,” I said, far more concerned about the cup’s practical applications. Namely, to perk me up. “Just pour me one. I’m dyin’ a slow death over here.”
“Safe word?” Dorian asked, pouring a third cup from a narrow pot.
“Magic word,” Narcissus groaned. “He meant what’s the magic word?”
Dorian glanced up at us, frowning, then shrugged. He pinched the dainty cup’s tiny handle and held it out to me, meeting my eyes expectantly.
“Please,” I muttered, snatching the cup from him.
He winked and withdrew to settle beside Narcissus on one of the chairs. The two men did a lot of sitting, I realized—far more than seemed possible, given their slim, toned physiques. Maybe it had something to do with being an immortal. Or having sex. Lots of sex. I tried to chase that thought away by taking a sip of the coffee, but then nearly spit it out. “Jesus Christ, what’s in this?” I spluttered.
Narcissus chuckled. “The strongest coffee you’ll ever drink. Courtesy of the Greeks.”
Dorian, sitting slightly behind his companion, shook his head, mouthing the word ‘Cuban’, then winked—suggesting, perhaps, that the Greeks weren’t quite the coffee aficionados Narcissus claimed. I took another sip. I didn’t know about all that, but the stuff sure was potent. It tasted like a shot of espresso on steroids; fine coffee grounds clung to my tongue and teeth.
“So, care to tell us what your plan is, now that we’re here?” Narcissus asked, holding his arms wide as if putting the sea on display. I frowned, staring out at the water. To be honest, it looked remarkably like wherever it was we’d been before, but I didn’t argue; I knew exactly jack shit about sailing.
“I’m plannin’ to cross over into Fae from here,” I said.
Narcissus scoffed, slapping his oiled-up thigh with one hand. When no one joined in, he glanced up, searching my face. “Oh. You’re serious.”
“Can she do that?” Dorian asked, crossing one leg over the other, his interest clearly piqued.
“Theoretically. But not from my boat,” Narcissus said, still focused on my face.
“And why not?” I asked, frowning.
“Well, for starters, because I would never endanger my passengers or myself so recklessly,” Narcissus replied, pressing one hand against his chest. “And also because it’s impossible.”
“How so?” Alucard chimed in, tugging on a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses and staring out at the ocean.
“I’m Greek,” Narcissus said with a shrug. “I couldn’t cross over into Fae even if I wanted to. Such things are simply not done. The gates you’re looking for will not open with me nearby, assuming you could even find them.”
“You mean like that thing over there?” Alucard asked absently, pointing out towards the horizon.
We all turned to look.
“I don’t see anything,” Dorian said slowly, a moment later.
I squinted, but had to admit I didn’t see anything either.
Narcissus turned to study Alucard, head cocked to one side. “You’ve been there before, haven’t you?” His tone added the phrase you sneaky fucker.
Alucard nodded.
“Oh, what’s it like?” Dorian asked, whirling back around to lean forward, his eyes wide and excited. “I’ll admit, I’ve heard all sorts of truly sordid things—”
“Dorian, you are not going off galivanting in Fae and leaving me here to entertain all our guests in Puerto Rico,” Narcissus snapped.
Dorian clucked his tongue, but settled back again, arms folded over his chest. “Fine.” Then, he shot a discreet look at Alucard, and mouthed later.
“Besides,” Narcissus continued, seemingly oblivious to Dorian’s subtle exchange with Alucard, “I can only imagine what your wild side would be like. You’d end up as intolerable as Dionysus. Drinking and screwing until you’ve forgotten your own name.”
“Well, doesn’t that just sound terrible…” Dorian grumbled, running a finger idly along his companion’s arm, gazing off in the direction of the supposed gates Alucard had spotted.
“We need a boat, then,” I declared before they could get into a lover’s spat and waste what remained of the day. “D’ye have one we can use?”
“They could use one of the passenger boats?” Dorian suggested.
“Absolutely not. We don’t have that many of those, especially after what you did to the last one.”
Dorian rolled his eyes. “How was I supposed to know they’d catch fire so easily?”
“And they’re expensive,” Narcissus added, ignoring Dorian’s comment completely.
“I can pay ye whatever one costs,” I said, shrugging.
“Oh, is that right?” Narcissus asked, eyeing me up and down, noting the shirt I’d stolen with a raised eyebrow. I suddenly felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman—in the beginning, when even the sales ladies knew she was a hooker. “Alright, then,” Narcissus droned. “A million.”
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