She laughed, hard enough to shake the bed. Wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, she said, “Yes, it is.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “All right. If you don’t mind, I’ll have my people handle the questioning of the remaining pirate. I’m also going to have them investigate King Dahlmar’s allegations of political tampering in Rusland. We have very stringent laws forbidding political machinations of that type. If indeed that is what’s happening.”
“You don’t think it is?”
She gave me a long look. “It’s a landlocked country.”
I put two and two together. Sirens need oceans. Need them. But just because they couldn’t live in Rusland, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t want to control the power and the gas. I started to open my mouth to say as much, but I didn’t have to. She’d been listening to my thoughts. Which I hated. I tried to stifle that thought before it got me in trouble.
“We have hospital facilities on the island. Your injuries can be tended there.”
I shook my head no. Hospitals had bleeding people. The smell of blood could make me very dangerous—particularly when I was hungry and injured. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t.” I didn’t explain further, but I didn’t have to. Either she was still eavesdropping on my thoughts or she was bright enough to figure it out on her own. She reached the right conclusion and quickly.
She gave me a horrified look. “It really is that much of a problem? I saw you looking at Adriana’s neck and you left so swiftly, but—”
“Oh, it’s a problem. So far, I’ve been able to deal with it. It’s better, easier, if I have some broth or baby food with meat. Or something with protein that’s run through the blender. But no hospital. That would just be a bad idea right now.”
“I understand.” She gave me a speculative look. “I can arrange for the food. And if you’ll let me, I can help with the pain and let you rest until it’s ready.”
“That would be lovely.”
She reached forward, touching me on the forehead. I heard her voice inside my head. Sleep.
I slept.
I woke to the smell of food: beef broth, French onion soup, and other, more exotic things that I couldn’t name but that smelled of tropical fruits and banana. Opening my eyes, I discovered it was night. I rolled over . . . and it didn’t hurt. For just a moment I reveled in the fact that I didn’t hurt. The absence of pain was absolutely glorious.
The boat wasn’t moving. Well, it was rocking gently, but not like it was out on the ocean. We’d apparently made harbor. Which explained why somebody’d felt secure enough to leave several open food containers on the nightstand next to my bed.
Vampires have terrific night vision. I didn’t even need to turn on the light. I sat up in bed and begin tearing into the food. I was ravenous and most of it tasted wonderful. I skipped the fruit drink, though. I loathe bananas. I was just finishing the last drop of soup when I noticed a slip of folded note paper that had been tucked under one of the bowls.
I unfolded it, to find a note.
We need to talk, but Queen L. said not to wake you.
We’re staying in her guesthouse. See you there.
Creede
I was glad they’d let me sleep. Now that I’d healed up and eaten, I was much safer to be around. But I wanted to clean up before I went out in public. The shower in the head on the boat was tiny but in working order. I dug up some toiletries and made myself presentable. Thankfully, some kind soul had brought my things down from the deck. It would’ve been nice to have some fresh clothes, but unless I wanted to swipe something from Bubba, I’d have to make do. Since the lavalava didn’t have any blood- or food stains, that was what I put on, covering it once more with my jacket to protect my still red and somewhat tender skin.
I sighed as I laid the empty holster on top of the bed. No point in putting it on. The gun was gone. That sucked. One of my knives was gone. That was even worse. But I was alive. Bubba, Creede, and Dahlmar were all injured, but they had made it, too. I was sorry about Ivan. But considering what we were up against, it was practically miraculous we’d only had one casualty.
I glanced at the clock built into the wall. One A.M. Most likely everybody else was in bed by now, but maybe not. Besides, having rested and fed, I was wide awake. So I picked my way through the disaster area where the mess used to be and made my way to the stairs and up top.
It was a beautiful night. Not too hot, with just enough of a breeze to flap the sails on the boats that had them and rustle the leaves of the palm trees on the shore. Water lapped gently against the hull of the boat, and the clear white moonlight made it easy to see but also made the shadows seem that much darker.
As I stepped from the cabin doorway, I saw one of those shadows move ever so slightly. Someone was trying very hard to remain unseen.
I pulled my knife and charged, using vampire strength and speed. Before my opponent knew what was coming, I was on her and she was down, pinned to the deck with the edge of my knife at her throat.
I felt magic building and I pressed down on the knife so that the tip dimpled her skin without drawing blood. “Don’t even think about it.” I hissed and bared my teeth to make the . . . point perfectly clear.
Then my vampire sight kicked in and I suddenly realized she was just a kid. She couldn’t be more than fifteen or sixteen. When I’d hissed at her, she’d let go of her power and lay still, her eyes wide as dinner plates. Her entire body quivered with fear. I could hear her heart pounding like a trip-hammer, her breath rasping. She was obviously terrified. But I didn’t move the knife.
I heard running footsteps and a voice called out from the dock, “Princess, is something wrong?”
“I have company.”
There was swearing and pounding feet. Three armed guards swarmed on board, shining flashlights like spotlights onto us. The kid beneath me started to cry. She was pretty, with exotic features—dark brown skin and hair that would’ve been kinky-curly if it hadn’t been kept cropped close to her skull. She was wearing a black sports bra and matching jeans. A gold belly button ring twinkled in the harsh light.
She looked up and around at the people behind the spotlights and whimpered, “My mom is going to kill me.”
“Only if I don’t do it first.” I smiled, deliberately letting her get another good look at the fangs.
She swallowed hard and tears filled her eyes. “Please don’t kill me, Princess,” she whispered.
“Give me one good reason not to.”
The nearest guard was a tall woman. Her hair was cropped short in a buzz cut that should have been very masculine. But it looked good with her chiseled features and the seriously buff body encased in camo pants and an olive tank top. The loaded weapons belts were the perfect accessories. A small, embroidered name tag was affixed to the shirt. Marks on the tag probably signified rank. Her name was Baker.
“Okalani, what are you doing here?” she snapped.
The kid didn’t answer. Tears were trailing from the corners of her eyes.
“How did you get past the guards?” I added.
“Oh, I know how she got past us,” Baker snarled. “And her mother is going to hear about it.” Baker gestured to an underling. “Go to the kid’s house and tell Laka what happened. Bring her back here with you. And send Martin to notify the palace. We don’t need this to go over the airwaves.”
The second guard took off at a trot. I still hadn’t let the kid up. The knife was still at her throat. I didn’t figure she was out to kill me. She probably wasn’t a threat. But I’m not inclined to take chances, and she needed to be taught a lesson.