by Lori Sjoberg
“Cold-blooded son of a bitch.”
“Say what you want, but we are not going anywhere until we’ve found what we’re looking for.” Dmitri squared his shoulders, and looked down his nose at Jack with disdain. “If that offends your delicate sensibilities, I suggest you get off your ass and get to work.”
Jack’s hands balled into fists.
“Think long and hard about your next move.” The threat in Dmitri’s voice was unmistakable. “Things past cannot be recalled.”
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Ruby snapped. Jack and Dmitri shot her a death glare, probably because they both expected her to take their side. And even though she sympathized with Jack’s point of view, she understood the motivation behind Dmitri’s hard-line stance. “Jack, I know you’re not happy about this, but Dmitri has his orders and failure isn’t an option. If you knew our boss the way we do, you’d understand he doesn’t have any choice in the matter.”
Jack sulked while Dmitri’s expression turned smug.
“And you need to dial it down a notch,” Ruby told Dmitri. “The man’s mortal, so try to scrounge up a little compassion, will you?”
Dmitri stared at her, his face unchanged. The corner of his mouth twitched a fraction, the closest she’d ever get to a response.
She speared a piece of watermelon with her fork. “Now let’s try to behave like rational adults, shall we?”
“She has quite the attitude, doesn’t she?” Dmitri slanted a glance in Jack’s direction.
“Yeah, I’m starting to notice. Is she always this cranky?” Dmitri shook his head. “No, not always, but she can be … temperamental from time to time.”
“Keep it up, and I’ll show you both how temperamental I can be.”
Jack grinned while Dmitri smirked.
Oh well, it was progress. At least they weren’t lunging for each other’s throats.
Chapter 18
Zip. Zilch. Zero.
The day’s hunt yielded nothing but dirty looks from Dmitri and a headache for Ruby. They’d eventually suspended the search a little before five, with plans to resume after a few hours’ rest and dinner.
By the time Jack left his suite and descended the stairs to deck three, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. The evening crowds were beginning to stir, an eclectic mix of humanity in search of entertainment. Two elderly couples dressed to the nines waited patiently by the elevators, while two young guys wearing board shorts and tank tops stood a few feet to their right.
Three blondes and a brunette emerged from one of the interior cabins, dressed to kill in cocktail dresses and sky-high heels. Hair sleek and makeup immaculate, the brunette’s gaze skimmed over Jack, brazen in her inspection. Judging by her smile, she liked what she saw. Not that he needed the visual cue. He sensed her attraction as they passed in the hall, felt the waves of arousal radiating from her body.
Surprisingly, the curse gave little acknowledgment. That was a first. Under normal circumstances, it sprang to life at the slightest hint of an easy meal. Was Gilrov simply sated, or had the demon taken their discussion to heart?
God, how he hoped it was the latter.
Arriving at Ruby’s cabin, he knocked on the door. He waited a few seconds, double-checked his watch, and knocked again. Still no answer.
Maybe he’d gotten the time wrong. No, he distinctly remembered Dmitri saying eight forty-five. In that case, maybe the asshole had given him the wrong time on purpose. It wouldn’t surprise him. The possibility spiked his blood pressure at least twenty points. He’d done nothing to deserve Dmitri’s crap, and he’d had just about enough of his threats and condescension.
Just as he was about to knock again, the door swung open.
Dmitri stood on the other side, dressed in a suit that made him look like something out of a Bond movie. Simple lines and basic colors, all skillfully cut to make his muscular frame appear elegant. Still, he gave off an element of danger—something that probably worked wonders with the ladies.
Without a word of acknowledgment, Dmitri turned his back and headed toward the vanity, where he finger-combed his close-cropped hair and adjusted his burgundy tie. He scowled, apparently dissatisfied with the look, then stripped off the tie and unfastened the top two buttons of his dress shirt.
“Nice to see you too,” Jack murmured as he closed the door behind him. Wow, Ruby wasn’t kidding. Her stateroom really was the size of a refrigerator box. No space for a fancy entertainment center or fully stocked bar. Not even a window to allow a view of the ocean, although she probably saw that as a good thing. “Where’s Ruby?”
“In the bathroom.” Dmitri tossed the tie on one of the tiny beds. “Something about putting on her face.” His cold, flat eyes met Jack’s in the mirror. “I still don’t trust you, demon.”
“Sounds like a personal problem to me.”
Dmitri’s eyes narrowed. “If you do anything to fuck this up, I’ll—”
“Behave, boys.”
Both men turned toward the sound of Ruby’s voice as she sashayed out of the bathroom. She wore a skintight purple mini dress with a slit up one side and a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination. The choker around her neck looked more like a dog collar, a wide band of black leather decorated with shiny metal studs. Wavy red hair framed a face artfully enhanced to draw attention to her vibrant eyes and lush lips. Put it all together and she looked ready to work a stripper pole.
Jack said, “Oh hell no,” at the same time Dmitri smiled and said, “Perfect.”
She slipped on a pair of three-inch heels, bringing her close to Jack’s height. “What, you don’t like it, Jack?”
“I like it just fine.” Talk about understatement of the year. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Already, he’d whipped up a few scenarios involving that particular getup, but none that he wanted to share in mixed company. “I just think it’s a bit … much.”
“Oh, do you now?” Ruby propped a hand on her hip. The shift in posture made the fabric shift as well, sweeping a little to the right and coming dangerously close to flashing a nipple. He couldn’t help but wonder if she used two-way tape to keep the material from sliding out of place. “And exactly how should I dress? Would you rather I wear a turtleneck, or perhaps I should break out the burka?”
Dmitri laughed, and Jack shot him a look that said eat shit and die.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. You look great. More than great. You look … damn.” Truth be told, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He wanted to lick his way down her cleavage, run his hands up those long legs until he finally reached sensitive skin. Strip away each article of clothing until she was good and naked … well, except for the heels. Nah, scratch that last thought—he wanted to relish her in all her glory. His body tightened while Gilrov stirred.
Ruby smiled, her accent thicker than usual. “You keep looking at me like that, and you’re going to make me blush.”
“Huh?” Then he realized he was staring at her like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. “Sorry.” He scrubbed a hand across his face, forcing himself to think about politics so his body would settle down and stop behaving like a horny teenager.
“Okay, here’s how we’re going to break this up.” Dmitri tacked a diagram of the ship on the wall by the closet, pointing out each location as he spoke. “Ruby, I want you to cover Frenesi. The crowds are going to pose a challenge, but I know you can handle the volume. I’m going to alternate between the martini bar and the casino. We’ll check in at thirty-minute intervals, sooner if we get any hits.”
“And where do I go?” Through process of elimination, Jack had a pretty good idea.
Dmitri shot a glance in his direction. “You’re covering the Nautical Mile and the Speakeasy Tavern. Think you can handle it?”
Jack clenched his jaw, biting back what he really wanted to say. “I can handle myself just fine.”
“We will see about that.”
Two hours later, Ruby’s
feet were killing her.
Frenesi was even more crowded than the last time she’d visited, the air pungent with the smells of sweat and alcohol. Retro music pumped through the sound system, a mixed bag of hits from the seventies, eighties, and nineties. The dance floor was packed with a sea of writhing bodies, making it hard not to bang into the person beside you, and easy for someone to cop a quick feel. When the music switched from Frankie Goes to Hollywood to the Village People, Ruby limped off the dance floor and headed toward the bar. “Sweet tea,” she told the bartender. “Heavy on the ice.”
Normally, she’d order something with a little more kick, but with a demon on the prowl, she wanted to keep her mind sharp.
Drink in hand, she cruised the club, sifting through the mix of humanity in search of the elusive demon. Mortal energy pulsed all around her, a strong, steady hum created by so many bodies crammed into a confined area. She opened her mind to the barrage of sensations, gauging each person’s vitality as she passed.
Most of the patrons were under the age of thirty and gave off vibes typical of humans in their prime. Some a little stronger, others a bit weaker. So far, she hadn’t found anyone with a life force far enough off the charts to raise a red flag. But the night was still young, and she had plenty more people to scan.
Two more laps around the club, and she veered right for a pit stop in the ladies restroom. When the door closed behind her, the music muffled to a dull bass thump, low enough for her to make a quick call. She fished her cell phone out of her clutch bag and dialed Dmitri.
“Any luck?”
“Nothing yet.” She leaned against the wall farthest from the stalls and put a finger in her free ear so she could hear better. The brightly lit room bustled with activity as women filed in and out, fixing their hair and retouching their makeup. Pairs and trios traded gossip while they waited for the next available stall. “Any word from Jack?”
“He checked in about ten minutes ago.” Dmitri didn’t elaborate, which meant Jack was coming up empty as well. A series of bells and whistles sounded in the background, followed by a round of cheers and a woman’s squeal of delight. “I better go. Somebody just hit the jackpot. Keep in touch.”
She tucked the phone back into her bag and slipped out the exit. Madonna blasted over the speakers, the beat so heavy it made her entire body vibrate. She ignored the music, and the occasional pat on the butt, as she wove a path through the crowded club, her senses focused on searching for anomalies among the constant white noise. It took considerable effort to separate each thread from the tangled web of humanity, the mental strain forming a knot of tension at the base of her skull. Still, she pressed on, determined to track down her prey before the evening ended.
Thirty minutes later, frustration soured her mood. She was about to check in with Dmitri again when she sensed a mild disturbance. A shallow ripple in the sea of mortality, yet one that was strong enough to attract her attention. She concentrated, sorting through the clutter, narrowing the possibilities until her focus locked on the source about fifty feet away.
The demon looked surprisingly average. She’d expected … well, something more impressive than average height, slightly paunchy build, and nothing outstanding in the looks department. He wore a white dress shirt tucked into navy blue pants that rode a bit too high above the waist. An extra ten or fifteen pounds padded his midsection, the weight causing a bulge around the beltline. He looked less like a demon and more like the guy who fixed your computer when you picked up a virus.
But then he began to walk through the crowd, and she recognized the gait of a predator. He moved with a confidence that bordered on animal grace, an innate self-assurance that went a long way toward attracting the opposite sex.
It didn’t take long before a woman approached him. Buxom, blonde, and built like Barbie, she leaned close and spoke in the demon’s ear, then tipped her head back and laughed at whatever he’d said in return.
“Sorry, honey,” Ruby murmured. Normally, she’d never stoop to this kind of tactic, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “This isn’t going to be your night.”
When the blonde glanced in her direction, Ruby planted a suggestion into her mind. Stomach hurts. I think I’m going to throw up.
Eyes widening, the blonde pressed a hand to her stomach. She shook her head and said something to the demon before bolting toward the ladies bathroom like her hair had caught fire.
Better get over there before anyone else makes a move on my demon, Ruby thought as she cut a path across the club. She spotted a leggy brunette on a collision course, but was able to divert the woman’s progress with a mental suggestion concerning cramps and a certain time of the month.
The demon noticed Ruby’s approach. A smug smile curved his lips while his eyes tracked her with unmistakable hunger.
“Why, hello there,” Ruby said, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the music. With heels, she stood a full inch taller than the demon. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
“Well, with this many people, it’s hard to spot everyone.” This time the smile reached all the way to his eyes. “But it sure is a pity I haven’t met you before tonight.”
“Likewise. The name’s Ruby.”
She held out her hand and experienced an intense surge of arousal when he pressed a kiss against her knuckles. The sensation knocked her off balance. He wasn’t her type, looked nothing like the kinds of guys she normally went for, so why did she have the sudden urge to drag him into the nearest corner and tear his clothes off? Was it raw animal magnetism, or did he ooze some sort of demonic pheromone?
“Ruby. What a beautiful name. I’m Glen.” The sound of his voice carried over the music, a smooth, seductive rumble with the faintest hint of country twang. Nashville, if she guessed her accents correctly. He held her hand a little longer than necessary, his touch sending sparks of warmth through her bloodstream. “Would you care to dance?”
“Maybe later. I didn’t break these heels in before the cruise and my feet are killing me.” She grinned when he gave her a look of disappointment. “But you can buy me a drink.”
“Deal.” The smile returned to his face. “What’s your poison?”
She ran a finger along the edge of her choker while she decided on a choice of drink. “Pineapple juice with a splash of coconut rum,” she finally said. “Let’s grab a table and flag down a waitress.”
Fifteen minutes later, the drinks were almost empty and Ruby’s hormones were charging into overdrive.
In spite of the insistent pull of attraction, she’d managed to keep her hands to herself. She’d kept the demon talking about the cruise, the ship, and anything else that came to mind. All the while she fought the temptation to crawl onto his lap, both hands wrapped around her glass so they wouldn’t wander.
“Are you done dancing for the night?” Glen was sitting so close his thigh kept brushing against hers. Each time, little flashes of heat shot through her body, settling low and growing in intensity.
Ruby nodded, leaned back far enough that she could see his entire face. Plain brown hair, parted down the middle. Brown eyes. Lightly tanned skin. Not a single distinguishing feature to make him stand out in a crowd. Perhaps his nondescript appearance served as camouflage. “Sorry, but my dogs are killing me. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“That’s a date, darling.” He reached up and twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. Eyes darkened, he leaned closer and touched his lips to hers.
While Glen’s kiss lacked the spark of passion, he compensated for the shortcoming with skill and finesse. His lips slid sensuously over hers, smooth and warm and oh-so-sure, and a feeling of lightheadedness washed over her. The sensation reminded her of the rush of new love, a powerful aphrodisiac she hadn’t experienced since—
She thought of Jack, and the haze of lust evaporated.
“What’s wrong?” Glen’s brow wrinkled when she jerked back from the kiss.
“Nothing.” She blinked a
few times, her mind slowly returning to its usual clarity. Now that she knew for certain his touch acted as the equivalent to demonic Spanish Fly, she’d make a point of limiting the physical contact. In the meantime, she needed to alert the boys so they’d be ready when she lured Glen to Jack’s cabin.
“Are you sure?” Glen seemed genuinely concerned. He touched a hand to her cheek and her pulse jumped. “You look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine.” Aside from feeling hornier than a teenager on Viagra. “It’s just a tad warm in here.” She fanned herself as she picked up her drink, downed the last swallow, and then gave him a wicked smile. “Want to go someplace a little more private?”
Glen smiled in return, those nondescript features sharpening with triumph. “You read my mind.”
“Wonderful. Let me call my roomie so she knows not to come back for a few hours.” She grabbed her phone from her clutch and called Dmitri.
“You’re late,” Dmitri said when he picked up, sounding more annoyed than usual.
“Hey, darling!” she nearly shouted into the phone. “You win anything yet?”
“Nothing. How about you?”
“Yep.” She couldn’t elaborate, not with Glen practically glued to her side. He touched a hand to her knee, and a blast of heat flashed low and spread like wildfire.
Dmitri didn’t say anything right away. “Are you still at the club?”
“Yeah, but we’re fixing to head back to the cabin, if you get my drift.” She winked at Glen as she let out a bawdy laugh.
“Understood. Stall him for as long as you can. I need time to get into place.” His tone softened, the concern thick in his voice when he added, “Please be careful.”
“You got it. Good luck, darling!”
Jack glanced down at his watch again, boredom giving way to irritation.
On the bright side, the Nautical Mile wasn’t hosting any geriatric parties. Tonight, the crowd leaned toward young urban professional. Late twenties to mid-thirties, with a fair number of singles aiming to get lucky. Still, he’d yet to encounter anyone out of the ordinary and was starting to get antsy.