Kissed by Ice

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Kissed by Ice Page 3

by Shéa MacLoed


  "No worries, my dear," Drago said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "You have been incredibly helpful. We will simply have to meet up with Eddie later. Come along, sister." With a little wave at the desk clerk, he ushered me back onto the elevator.

  "How exactly was she helpful?" I hissed. "And does your wife know you're a mad flirt?"

  "She won't if you don't tell her," Drago said. "Besides, it was for a good cause. When the girl dialed, I saw the room number."

  I grinned. "I guess you're not just a pretty face after all."

  "Be careful, or my wife will kick your ass."

  Chapter Three

  We found Eddie's room without much problem, and Drago "convinced" the reluctant steward to let us in. Probably he could have broken down the door just as easily, but it would have left a mess. The room was empty, and there was no sign of Eddie, only a vast amount of cravats and linen shirts littering the small space.

  "Looks like the place was tossed," Drago growled.

  "Uh, no. This is just Eddie. He's not exactly organized."

  "Huh." He prowled the small space as if looking for clues or maybe trying to pick up a scent.

  I turned to the steward, who was still dithering in the doorway. He looked like he wasn't sure whether to call security or run for his life. "Do you know where Eddie is?" I asked him.

  He shook his head so hard, his glasses nearly slid off his nose. "No, ma'am. I haven't seen Mr. Mulligan in the last two days."

  My eyebrows went up. "And you didn't think to tell anyone?"

  "Ah, no, ma'am. You see, it's not unusual for guests not to sleep in their, ah, quarters." His tone was one of imparting a delicate piece of information. It took me a moment to get it.

  "You think Eddie is shacked up with some steampunk chick?" I almost laughed at the thought. And then I remembered the crowd of women around him the last time I'd been to one of his steampunk events. Like bees to honey. Maybe it wasn't so crazy. "He never said where'd he be?"

  "Madam. I am not in the habit of keeping tabs on our guests." He tugged on his uniform and gave a supercilious sniff. "Except, of course, when it concerns the execution of my duties."

  "Listen," I said, stepping right up into his personal space. I could smell garlic on his breath. I was half tempted to offer him a mint. "Eddie called me. He said there was a problem. Something about death."

  I watched him closely, but other than paling slightly as one would expect when death is mentioned, there was no other reaction. "Madam. There have been no deaths aboard that I am aware of, and certainly Mr. Mulligan would be in no danger aboard our ship." There was a hint of pride in his voice, as if this ship were superior to all other ships in the matter of passenger safety. He looked me up and down. "I cannot imagine why Mr. Mulligan would have called you. Perhaps it was his idea of a joke."

  That did it. I clenched my hands into fists and started to open my mouth, but Drago caught my arm before I could let the jackass have it. "Thank you. You've been very helpful," Drago said, interrupting my pending tirade. He handed the steward a folded bill. It looked like maybe a twenty-pound note.

  "Certainly, sir." The steward snatched the note and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He gave Drago a nod, me a suspicious glare, and ushered us both from the room before locking the door.

  "Are there any major events today?" Drago asked.

  "Major events, sir?"

  "Steampunk events. Parties and whatnot."

  The steward smiled. "Why, yes, sir. There is currently a costume contest. If you would come with me, I will happily give you the location."

  After getting directions from the steward, Drago and I took another silent ride on the elevator. As we stepped off the elevator car, half a dozen people dressed in various states of steampunkery crowded in after us. One man wore a top hat so tall, I wondered he could get it through the elevator doors.

  "We must be close," I muttered.

  Drago lifted an eye brow and kept walking.

  At the door to the function room, we were stopped by an overlarge man in a cowboy outfit complete with Stetson and shit-kicker boots. Only instead of a six-shooter, he had a brass and copper ray gun.

  "Sorry. You're not dressed," he said, stepping in front of us. He stared us down. Well, he stared down at me, but Drago topped him by at least four inches.

  "Excuse me?" I said.

  "No one gets in unless they're dressed in steampunk." He said it slowly, like he thought I might be an idiot.

  "Seriously?"

  He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a stern glare. With a sigh I whipped one of my knives out of the wrist sheath and held it about two inches from his nose.

  "This steampunk enough for you?"

  He let us in.

  At the front of the room was a large stage where a Master of Ceremonies in a dark Victorian suit with one of those frilly white shirts underneath paraded about with a lot of posturing and posing. The cheap sound system crackled and popped and squealed as he announced various contestants.

  "The Lady Mei Chai," he announced with a flourish.

  A young Asian woman glided across the stage. Her midnight black hair was done up in a classic bun with small silver daggers stuck through in lieu of hairpins. She wore a tiny pair of round spectacles with tinted blue lenses perched on the edge of her nose, and a classic peacock-blue cheongsam—one of those gorgeous Chinese sheath dress with a mandarin collar. A dark brown waist-cincher corset showed off her tiny waist. Matching brown Victorian ankle boots and fingerless lace gloves finished off the ensemble. She posed for the crowd, twisting this way and that, showing off a pair of very nice legs through the long slits on either side of her dress. The people seated around the stage were clapping and cheering louder than the crowd at a Blazer game.

  "Oh my god, I know you." The voice, about three inches from my ear, caused me to jump. The speaker was a cute little blonde wearing a top hat, a pair of brass goggles, and not a whole lot else. Tiny rhinestones marched across her high cheekbones and sparkled beneath the bright overhead lights. Her powdery perfume made my nose itch.

  "Excuse me?"

  "I met you this winter in Portland. The steampunk party? Eddie introduced us." I vaguely recognized her as one of the mob of women hanging around him that night. She held out her hand, "Victoria von Thistlethwaite."

  "Seriously?"

  She shrugged. "Well, that's who I am this week," she said with a laugh.

  "Sure." I shook her offered hand. "Morgan Bailey."

  She frowned. "That's an odd steampunk name."

  "It's my real name."

  "Oh." She looked somewhat disappointed. Then she brightened. "I bet you're here to see Eddie. He told me he was expecting a friend." She glanced at Drago, gave him a wide smile, and fluttered her damn lashes. I was pretty sure they were fake. Nobody had real lashes that long. When Drago didn't respond to her feminine wiles, she shrugged and turned to me. "Come on. I'll take you to him."

  Victoria led the way, sashaying through the crowd like the Queen of Sheba, her pert little ass barely covered by a scrap of pink silk and a bustle thing made of olive-green mosquito netting. Or at least that's what it looked like. I'm pretty sure the fabric had some kind of fancy name, but gods knew what it was. Not my fort&eactue;.

  "Do you know why Eddie called me?" I asked, hurrying to keep up as she strode out into the hall. Her legs were about ten feet longer than mine.

  "He didn't say. But he's been a little off the last couple of days. He's definitely hiding something, but then that's Eddie for you. Full of secrets." She paused in front of a door marked "private" and twisted the brass doorknob. "Here you go. He's been staying here. Says it's safer." She gave me a look that told me she thought Eddie was being ridiculous, then pushed open the door and popped her head in. "Eddie, that Morgan chick is here." She stepped back and waved us forward. "Have fun. I gotta get back to the contest. I'm up in a few minutes." She gave us a little finger wave and disappeared down the hall.

  Drago and I e
xchanged glances, then with a shrug, I stepped into the room. It was clearly a storage room of some kind, but everything had been shoved against one wall. On the opposite wall hung a giant blueprint of the ship with red Xs marked in a couple of places, along with pink and yellow sticky notes covered in almost illegible handwriting. The table in the center of the room was covered in papers: long lists of names I assumed was a passenger manifest, what appeared to be background checks, and sketches of what looked like crime scene locations. Random notes in various colored ink littered the floor. Two chairs, their seats stacked high with reference books of supernaturals, were pulled up next to the table. I wondered where Eddie had gotten books in the middle of the ocean.

  Eddie straightened up from where he was hunched over a file folder. "Morgan. Thank the gods. They just found another one."

  "Another what?"

  "Another body."

  Chapter Four

  "Body? What the hell is going on, Eddie?" I circled the room, stopping to stare at the blueprint on the wall. I was pretty sure the red Xs weren't party locations.

  "I told you on the phone…" he began.

  "The connection was horrible, Eddie. All I heard was something about death and then the line went dead."

  "Perhaps we should sit down," Drago suggested. Eddie and I ignored him, so Drago shrugged and pulled out one of the chairs, dumping the books on the floor. He sank into it, propping his booted feet on the table.

  Eddie sighed. "We were a day out of port when the first body showed up." He rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. He looked tired. I could see dark circles under his eyes, and he was looking rather pasty for someone vacationing in the Bahamas.

  "You found it? The body."

  "Yes."

  "So," I said. "Why did you call me? Why didn't you turn it over to the captain or the nearest port authorities?" I wasn't entirely clear on what the law was about bodies found at sea.

  "Because the body was drained of blood."

  "Shit." I cleared the other chair and took a seat, propping my elbows on the table. "So not the authorities. What about Hunters? Surely there are some in the area."

  "A couple, yes. But they are inexperienced. Vampires don't exactly gravitate toward the equatorial regions. Too much sun."

  "Makes sense," I said. "Okay, tell me everything."

  Eddie began pacing back and forth in front of the table, hands clasped behind his back. His fringe of curly gray hair was wilder than usual, sticking out in several directions as though he'd stuck his finger in a light socket. "I came back from dinner the first evening and prepared for bed. I found the body in my shower. There was blood everywhere, but none in him."

  "Let me guess. Vampire."

  He nodded. "It appeared so, based on the wounds."

  "Did you know him? The body, I mean."

  "Not at all. He was a complete stranger. One of the cruise line employees, I believe."

  "What did you do with the body?" Drago asked.

  Eddie cleared his throat. "I destroyed the heart and then threw the body overboard."

  "Oh, dear gods, Eddie." I buried my face in my hands.

  "I didn't have much of a choice, Morgan. You know the danger better than anyone."

  I did. Such an attack could mean the victim would rise from the dead a vampire. Nobody had time for that shit. Especially not on a cruise ship where the food—read: humans—were herded together like cattle. The only possible option was to destroy the heart, but that was kind of hard to explain to the authorities. Not to mention the family of the victim.

  "Hasn't the ship noticed he's missing? Surely he's got friends, co-workers?"

  "I imagine they have reported him missing, but so far no one has put two and two together. Hopefully they will simply assume he abandoned ship for some reason of his own." Eddie shrugged, but his eyes were bleak. I could tell he felt horrible about it, but we both knew there was nothing else he could have done.

  "So, there's a vampire on board," I said.

  "Clearly." Eddie removed his glasses, polished them, and put them back on. "I've done the best I can to search the ship, but I haven't had much luck."

  "You said there was another body?"

  "Two, in fact. The second body appeared shortly before I called you. This time there was a witness," he said grimly.

  Drago and I exchanged glances. "What did you do with the witness?" Drago asked.

  "Nothing. I merely convinced her she'd had a nightmare. She was rather hysterical when she woke up and found a dead body in her room. It was easy enough to persuade her."

  "What was he doing in her room? Did she know him?"

  Eddie shook his head. "No more than any of the rest of us. Her room is next to mine, which is why I heard the screaming. Fortunately, I arrived before the steward and was able to prevent him seeing anything untoward. I, ah, gave her a sleeping pill, and then cleaned up her room."

  I was betting there had been an extra something in that sleeping pill to help along Eddie's power of suggestion. "And the body?" I asked.

  "A guest this time. I'd seen him around. Something of a loner and not well liked by anyone as far as I could see. He wasn't on-board with anyone. While he may have family back home who will question his disappearance, we've got a few days before we have to worry about anything like that. I… took care of the body. That was two days ago. I moved in here after that. It seemed safer."

  "So, this third body," I said. "When did it show up?"

  "Early this morning. One of the maids. I found her in this very room. How she got in, I do not know."

  "Shit," I said with feeling.

  "My sentiments exactly."

  # # #

  Kabita arrived a couple hours later by helicopter. The captain wasn't thrilled, but she flashed her Supernatural Regulatory Agency badge, and he clammed up. I'm pretty sure she lied and told him she was CIA. Nobody outside the supernatural community knew about the SRA, but nobody wanted to risk messing with a bunch of spies. Probably they'd seen too many Hollywood movies. Eddie went through the tale of the blood-drained bodies again for her benefit.

  "Vampire." She spit the word out like it was a cuss word.

  "Oh, yes," Eddie agreed. "Unfortunately, I've been unable to locate either it or its lair. The ship is quite large."

  There was a buzzing sound. We all glanced around as if giant mosquitoes had suddenly invaded the storage room.

  "That's me," Drago said, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket. He frowned as he stared at the screen.

  "What is it?" I asked. "Is Inigo okay?"

  "He's fine, but I am needed back at the castle. I assume you can all carry on without me." He didn't wait for an answer, but started for the door. I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  "Thank you for the lift out here."

  "Of course."

  Guilt was poking me in the back with a big stick. "Please watch over Inigo for me. I know I should be there, but…."

  "But people are dying," he said. "You are a Hunter. It is your duty to stop the vampire responsible for this. Inigo will be fine. Just give him some time. There is nothing you can do for him right now." He gave my hand a brotherly pat and slipped out the door.

  "Inigo?" I hadn't realized Kabita was standing so close.

  "He's fine," I told her.

  "That's good."

  I gave her a look.

  "That's not good?"

  I sighed. "He's a bit thin and probably in need of some physical therapy to get his strength back, but physically he's fine."

  "I see." There was a wealth of meaning in those two little words.

  "He looks at me like I'm a stranger," I said, trying to keep the tears out of my voice. "He won't talk to me."

  "I'm sorry, Morgan." She gave me a quick squeeze. "Surely Drago is right, and he just needs time."

  Eddie cleared his throat. "I admit I don't know a great deal about the recovery of dragons and, as you know, Inigo is half human, which makes things a bit unusual." He polished
his glasses again. "But I am quite certain he is still healing. At least mentally. It will take time. And patience. And probably a great deal more than just physical therapy."

  "And in the meantime, we've got a vampire to find," I said. When in doubt, kill things. Worked for me. Besides, the faster I got this vamp business taken care of, the faster I could get back to Scotland.

  Eddie showed us where on the ship he'd already searched, marking each spot with an orange highlighter. Other areas were marked with blue. "These are the areas I have not searched but which are highly unlikely to be hiding a vampire," he said, pointing to the blue marked rooms.

  "Why is that?" Kabita asked. "Surely they should be checked just in case."

  "Well," Eddie said with a slight smile, "this one here is a bar and all four walls are made entirely of glass."

  "Ah."

  "Indeed. Perfect for viewing the ocean over a tasty beverage. Not so perfect for vampires." He turned back to the blueprint and circled three places with his red marker. "These are where the bodies were found. No rhyme or reason I can see except for the obvious."

  "Which is?" Kabita asked.

  "They're all below decks," I said.

  "Interesting. So he hasn't attacked anyone out in the open. Even at night."

  "Not so far," Eddie said. "All of them have been daylight attacks."

  Kabita and I glanced at each other. No regular vamp would attack a human in broad daylight. Not even below decks. They'd be holed up somewhere the sun couldn't reach them, not wandering about a busy ship where they could be easily caught. There was only one type of vampire who would risk such a thing. One type of vamp who could override their primordial fear of the sun.

  "Soul vamp."

  "Yes," Eddie said. "That would be my guess. For a reason unknown to us, someone has sent this vampire here for a purpose. We can only guess why."

  As I stared at the blueprint, I began to see another pattern, one that confused and worried me. I had no idea what it meant. "There's one other pattern to the killings."

  Kabita and Eddie stared at me. Eddie gave a slight shake of his head. "I'm afraid I can't see it."

 

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