Waterlocked

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Waterlocked Page 8

by Elizabeth Hunter


  “Ah yes, out in the middle of the Atlantic. Have I told you what an excellent plan that was, darling?”

  Terry grinned. She’d never called him ‘darling’ before. “Just look on the bright side, luv. No one will raise any questions when they hear the screams, now will they?”

  “True,” she said just as he heard the splash. His eyes darted back to the monitor. Only one vampire was visible on the screens. “Vampire overboard.”

  “He cannot find this chamber.” Terry’s eyes locked on Gemma’s. “If it’s compromised, we’ll have to reach land by dawn or rest very, very deep.”

  He saw the battle lust fill her eyes and her fangs run out in her mouth. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Of course.” She went to him eagerly, wrapping her arms around his waist as he opened the trap door and lay down in the narrow chamber. Her energy was jumping and he could feel the blood churning in her normally slow veins. “You’re excited about killing something, aren’t you?”

  Gemma smiled, her fangs gleaming behind her rosebud lips. “I don't like being bored.”

  “No, you don't.” He punched the button and let the hydraulic lever go to work, sealing them in, then the outer door released, flooding the small chamber with water.

  Ah, yes. His amnis reached out, immediately identifying the other immortal nearby. The door opened. With a quick twist, he shoved Gemma from his arms and she slipped under the keel to the opposite side of the Conquest. He spun to block the dagger that had been coming at his throat, twisting around, trying to lock his legs around his attacker to immobilize him.

  No good. His opponent was a water vamp, just like him. The force of the current buffeted him before he could block it, then Terry heard a scraping sound and a splash as another body entered the water.

  Terry couldn’t tell where it came from, and he had no time to look. He had to trust that Gemma would have enough control underwater that she could handle herself. The vampire had not stopped attacking, and Terry had no knife. He kept weapons, but none in his day chamber.

  The immortal attacking him had dusky skin and long hair that kept drifting into his eyes as the water swirled around them. Terry bared his fangs. Amateur.

  Not spending enough time in your element, are you?

  Terry dove, darting deep into the black water, and he heard his opponent follow. The other man felt older than him in years, but he did not have the elemental control that Terry did. He let his amnis flow, reaching out with the current until he felt the thin thread of the other vampire’s energy. He tugged, but the man was still swimming in circles, trying to see him.

  Foolish vampire.

  Terry didn’t need to see him, his amnis already did. He carefully surrounded the vampire with coils of energy, wrapping him with ribbons of water invisible to the other man. Then, he pulled.

  In the blink of an eye, the liquid ribbons turned to steel, constricting the other vampire and stilling his arms as the knife slipped from his fingers. Terry’s amnis scooped it up, bringing the knife to his palm as he grabbed the other man by his mop of dark hair.

  He searched for her, following the chaotic sounds of splashing to the other boat, whose dark hull lay fifty meters away. As he approached, he sensed them.

  Tricky girl. Terry grinned. Looked like someone was making new friends.

  His arm darted out and caught the fin as it tried to slip past. The mako was quick, but not as quick as he was. Still, it whipped around, almost slashing Terry’s arm before his hand brushed along the head, stroking the nose and letting his amnis reach out until the great animal calmed. The smell of human blood was heady in the water, which must have drawn the sharks. Terry reached out and petted it, the other vampire still struggling under his control, until he saw her.

  She was feasting on the neck of a struggling human, the blood a cloud around her that the sharks circled with excitement. He moved closer, careful not to startle her out of her bloodlust. She saw him from the corner of her eye and pushed the limp body away, swimming toward him, fangs bared and hair streaming in the moonlit water. She grabbed him by the neck and pulled his mouth to hers, biting on his lower lip and sucking hard as she pushed them to the surface.

  Gemma threw her head back as they breached the water, and Terry immediately slapped a hand over her mouth so she didn’t make a sound. She bit his finger, but didn’t speak. Terry held his finger up to his lips and she nodded. Then he motioned to the struggling captive, who he was still holding with one hand.

  “Recognize him?”

  “No,” she whispered. “The other must still be on the Conquest. We only need one alive.”

  He nodded, then made quick work of his extra cargo before the words could register with the other vampire, slicing around his neck with the man’s own dagger, spilling his blood and severing his spine before he let the limp body sink. Then he grabbed Gemma with both hands, cupping her cheeks and licking at the trickle of blood that leaked down her chin from her split lip. Their lips met, bruising and hungry as their energy crashed together. Terry used the water to push her closer, overcome by need for her. Her blood called to him, spurred on by the hunt as his body answered her. Finally, he broke away with a gasp.

  “Gemma!”

  “We can’t. Not here. Not like this.”

  He nodded, gritting his teeth as his fangs pierced his lower lip and his blood dropped into the churning water.

  “Soon,” he growled.

  She was panting. Her lips swollen with lust and her cheeks flushed with blood. “Soon.”

  A sleek fin surfaced only meters away, then disappeared under the waves.

  “They shy away from us,” she said in wonder. “But if you touch them—”

  “It’s their electroreceptors.” He motioned to the calm mako, who was still circling Terry as if fascinated. “Hundreds of them. In their head, mostly. It’s partly how they sense prey in the water.”

  “And why they keep away from us.”

  “Amnis is electricity, luv. They sense it almost as well as we do.”

  “But they don’t have a shield. They’re like humans that way.”

  “That’s right.” He reached out for the shark, who rubbed up against his arm like a cat. “Give their nose a pat, and they’re friendly as a pup.”

  “Amazing.” A smile broke over her face. “It’s amazing.”

  Terry winked. “Ocean’s not so bad, is it? Now, how many?” The shouts from the boats were finally reaching his ears, Spanish voices yelling to find them. Calling for missing comrades.

  “There were only humans on the other boat. Three. I grabbed one and pulled him in. Used his blood to attract the sharks. That made the other two panic. They were easy to grab. I drank from one and left the other to the… puppies.”

  “Very considerate. So we have one other vampire and five humans on the Conquest.”

  She nodded. “But we need the vampire alive if we want to question him.”

  “Aye. So”—He cocked his head toward the boat. “—do you want the humans or the vampire?”

  “You take the humans,” she said with a wicked smile. “You’re going to need the energy soon.”

  Sometimes, there really wasn’t anything more satisfying than bashing a few heads in. When one belonged to the earth vampire who had interrupted your honeymoon, it was particularly gratifying.

  “Who else?” Gemma calmly asked as Terry took another swing.

  “Th-that’s all. It was only her. Leonor sent us.”

  “I think you’re lying, Gaston.”

  “She wants Ramsay out of power! Leonor thinks he’s going to ally with Jean Desmarais in France and take Spain so they can both avoid the Gibraltar tariffs.”

  “Avoiding taxes?” Terry paused, a frown marking his face. “Desmarais and I are going to throw over an ally to save a bit of gold? You expect me to believe Leonor thinks I’m stupid enough to do that?”

  The Spaniard actually managed a condescending expression, which Terry took as his cue to hit him again. T
here was a satisfying crunch when his fist landed.

  Gemma sat up straighter. “Did you break your hand, darling?”

  “No, luv. Give him a minute. Think I might have dislocated his jaw on that one.”

  As the other man sat groaning, Gemma slipped to Terry’s side, speaking quietly in Welsh. The language was rarely spoken on the Continent, which was handy.

  “They were expected to fail,” she said.

  “I can’t deny that I’m enjoying the interrogation, but I think he may be telling the truth.”

  “He believes what he’s been told, but I think you're right.”

  “You don’t really think Leonor—”

  “Of course not.” She tapped her chin. “But someone sent these men here, along with the humans, to fail. We capture them. Question them—”

  “And they spill about Leonor. It’s false, of course—”

  Gemma nodded. “But they want to plant the seed of doubt.”

  “Combine this with the smuggling problems her envoy came to talk about…”

  “She’s being felt out.”

  Terry said, “Just like Murphy in Dublin.”

  “And the Dutch. The bankers have been quiet about it, but Guy mentioned some problems to me at the reception.”

  Terry took a step back, staring out over the water, something about the whole situation tickling the back of his mind.

  Spain, Marseilles, Dublin, the Netherlands.

  “What am I not seeing?” he muttered.

  “The sun?” the bound Spaniard sneered. “The sky is already growing light, you fool. Are you going to kill me or not? If not, I’d prefer to find shelter.”

  Terry ignored him and looked over at Gemma, who appeared to be studying her manicure. “All right, luv?”

  “I chipped a fingernail. It must have been when I was feeding the sharks. How annoying.”

  “There there,” he chuckled. “You poor thing.”

  “Don’t jest, Terry. My nails take ages to grow.”

  “What shall we do with the good señor, wife?”

  She looked over the edge of the boat. “Do sharks like vampire meat?”

  He saw their captive still. “‘Fraid not. Blood doesn’t pump quite hot enough for them.”

  “Gaston?” She rose and walked to the Spaniard. “Who killed Carl?”

  The vampire’s fangs ran down. “Killed who?”

  “Carl. My husband’s human secretary. I can tell by your reaction you’re remembering a recent kill.” Gemma’s blue eyes turned icy. “It’s so hard to hide sometimes, isn’t it? The memory of their blood hot in your mouth, that slow thud as their heart stops.” She stared into the vampire’s brown eyes. “Did he cry out? Scream for mercy?”

  Gaston’s lip curled when he answered, “No.”

  “Did you torture him?”

  Terry snarled when the man remained silent. One look from Gemma told him she was as furious as he was.

  “It’s too bad that Terry killed your friend, Gaston. You see, we share everything, and that makes you mine.” Gemma leaned down, raking her fingernails along Gaston’s cheek. “And I liked Carl Stanton. Which means you will not die quickly. I might break another nail, but somehow, I think it will be worth it.”

  Chapter Eight

  Gemma forced her eyes open most of the day. She was over eight hundred years old, but still had to sleep for a few hours. Despite the extermination of the boarding party and the elimination of the threat, she felt exposed. She was accustomed to being in more familiar surroundings, paranoid about security, and vigilant about who she trusted. Currently, the vampire in her arms topped the list.

  Terrance Ramsay. Who would have thought they would come to this? He was supposed to be her partner. She’d always enjoyed him as a lover. But this…

  She remembered the previous night, watching him as he twisted in the water, bending it to his will as he killed their attacker. Shoving her out of the way, yet trusting her to protect herself. Trusting her to defend him as he had defended her. He really and truly was her partner.

  She did love him.

  How completely unexpected. How beautiful.

  Gemma felt a tear well at the corner of her eye and wondered what, exactly, she had done to deserve that kind of gift after so many hundreds of years. It was only a hint now, only the promise of what could be, that curled in her chest. She knew with time, it could become quite overwhelming. She had loved her human husband passionately, but he had never been her equal, not as Terry was.

  “‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments,’” she whispered the old words of Shakespeare’s sonnet to him as he slumbered. “‘Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark…’”

  “‘—that looks on tempests and is never shaken.’” His quiet voice surprised her as he continued the lines. “’It is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.’” Slowly, Terry’s eyes blinked open. “Good evening, Gem.”

  She could feel her heart beating when she asked, “Why do you love me?”

  “For that.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Your honesty. Your directness. You can play games—I’ve seen you twist around the wiliest vampire with your charm—but you don’t. Not with me. You never have. If anything, you’ve been rude and abrupt.”

  “You like it?”

  “I do.” He smiled. “I like knowing you trust me enough to show me the real Gemma, not the diplomat or the flirt. I love that you’re honest with me. I love that you’re one of the most loyal daughters I’ve ever met. And sisters. You’d raze the city if you thought one of your loved ones was in danger. You’d skewer anyone who threatened them without a thought to what it might cost you.”

  “That’s not true. I always take safety considerations into mind. I’m not very much use to anyone if I’m dead, are I?”

  He pulled her closer, tucking her blond head under his chin. “You’re funny and smart and fierce. And you don’t take any shit from me.”

  “You have your own kind of charm, Terry. And your men adore you. Someone has to keep you in line.”

  “That’s why I married you.”

  Gemma felt an unexpected twist in her chest. “That’s why?”

  She felt his finger under her chin, pressing up until their eyes met. “Well, that. And the fact that I’m truly…” Terry pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Utterly…” Another along her cheekbone. “…mad about you.” His lips met hers, spinning her out until she felt wrapped in tiny threads of his amnis. Surrounded. Enthralled. She’d never been drunk as a human, but she imagined it must have felt like kissing Terry. He took her mouth in tiny bites that teased her, always leaving her wanting more. She tried to tug him closer. More. He rolled over her, working his mouth down her neck, over the taut peaks of her breasts, past the quivering skin of her belly.

  “You drive me mad, Gem.” His lips and tongue touched. Tasted. She could feel his fangs tease the inside of her thigh.

  “Terry—”

  “I thought—” He was practically vibrating with need. His voice scraped along her skin. “—I could control it. Thought I could play the part.”

  “You don’t—”

  “I can’t!” His fingers gripped her hips, lifting her body to his mouth so he could feast. “I’ll have all of you. Do you understand? All of you. Till I live in your blood.”

  “Terry!” she sobbed, teetering on the edge, mad with desire and drunk from his words. “I love you.”

  He stilled. Every nerve in her body jumped as his body stilled and his amnis swept over her. What had been a gentle lapping turned into a roaring wave. Desire. Joy. Every hair on her body rose with his touch.

  “Come again.”

  “I almost was.” Before she could blink, he was over her, braced on steel arms, inches from her face, and clearly not in a joking mood.

  “Again.”

  Gemma traced
the hard planes of his face, running her hands over the hint of stubble that covered his jaw. Then she looked into his eyes and said, “I love you.”

  He said nothing. Terry was frozen. In shock? She began to fidget. “I’m not sure I know how to love someone, to be totally honest. I’m really very old. And… the one time I tried long ago, it didn’t work. But he was human, and you’re…” Why was she talking about this? This wasn’t what she wanted to say. Not truly. “I love you, Terry. I think I have for some time, I just didn’t realize it. But it’s you. And you know me… probably better than anyone. You understand me. And you say you love me anyway, so—”

  “I do love you,” he finally spoke. “I just couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if you felt the same.”

  She glanced away from his penetrating stare. “And what does it feel like?”

  “More,” he whispered. “More than I imagined.”

  And he was there again, placing gentle kisses along her face, whispering sweet words in her ear, flooding her skin with his energy as he joined their bodies. Terry wrapped her legs around his waist before he slid home and eased the ache that had overtaken her. Her body and mind breathed a sigh of relief.

  Mate.

  Home.

  It was right. For the first time in hundreds of years, Gemma hungered for a male in every way. Her body ached for him. Her vampire nature hungered for his blood, and her heart… Her heart was safe in his care. She knew it with certainty.

  She gripped his forearms, sliding her hands up to caress the steel-corded muscles of his powerful body. She almost came from the knowledge that soon, her blood would travel within his own. Then, he would truly be hers. She bared her neck to him in a rare show of submission.

  “Gemma?” he rasped through the pounding rhythm of their lovemaking.

  “Bite me.”

  He groaned. “Are you sure?”

  Was she? A part of her was frightened. Exposed. “Please, just—”

 

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