Leashing the Tempest
Page 2
“They’d better hurry. I’d like to get ahead of a storm heading toward La Sirena.”
Jupe surveyed the cloudless blue sky. “I don’t see a storm.”
“A small one just popped up on the scanner.” The captain’s leathery cheeks plumped as he grinned down at Jupe. Deep lines etched the corners of his eyes and the space between his sun-kissed bushy eyebrows. “Don’t worry. Captain Christie will make sure you have nothing but sunny skies on your afternoon voyage, little man.”
A look of supreme annoyance passed over Jupe’s face. I saw his mouth opening and poked him in the ribs to halt whatever retort he was ready to let fly. He checked himself and grumbled under his breath. “Little?”
But the captain took no notice of Jupe’s injured pride and continued on in his oblivious way. “Come aboard. I’ll give you a tour while we’re waiting on the last passenger.”
The three of us filed onto the yacht, listening to the captain’s pack-a-day raspy voice as he took us through a fishing area at the bow of the boat and showed us where life jackets were stored. A larger aft deck stretched over the back of the boat, housing a small dining table and built-in seating that curved around a low table. A nearby ladder led down to a small swim platform.
Lon was considering buying a boat—another reason for our excursion—albeit a much smaller one than this. He owned a nice chunk of coastal land and had already commissioned plans for potential boathouses and docks to get a feel for the overall cost.
What it boiled down to was a whole assload of cash. Not worth it, in my working-class opinion, but hey. It was hcurey. It is bank account, and he wasn’t often flamboyant with spending money.
“Little nippy for bikini weather,” the captain said to me as he pointed to long vinyl mattresses flanking the seating. “But these sun pads are nice for tanning, if it warms up down the coast. No need to be shy around Captain Christie—he’s seen it all!” He gave Lon a nudge with his elbow as he winked.
Lon’s brows knitted into an annoyed V. “Captain Christie will not be seeing any of her.”
“Only a joke!” The captain struggled with a smile, but Lon continued to gaze down at him with stoic contempt.
The corners of Jupe’s mouth curled as he snorted a laugh near my ear. “This guy’s a winner.”
It’s hard to reprimand a kid when they’re right.
A faint line of light caught my eye on the swimming platform below. At first I thought it was just sunlight, but as I leaned over the rail for a better look, I spotted a thin band of white light running around the hull of the boat like a bow on a package.
Heka. Magical energy.
“You have a protective ward on your boat,” I said to the captain. Sure, plenty of houses and businesses around town were warded with magick, but it wasn’t exactly commonplace, and I’d never seen a ward on a boat. It immediately made me suspicious.
“Oh, yes.” He scratched his face. “Just a little, uh, extra protection.”
“Against?”
“Pirates?” Jupe guessed.
“Thieves.” The captain cleared his throat. “Nothing to worry about. Everything’s secure and tight now. I haven’t had any issues since I had the ward installed.”
“My dad put a ward around our house,” Jupe offered freely. “We had imp problems.”
“Yes, well . . . no imps on the Baba Yaga.” He waved us away from the swimming platform. “Let me show you around inside the salon.”
I glanced at Lon, who gave me a quick shrug. As long as we weren’t in any danger of getting boatjacked, I supposed it was none of my business.
I put the ward out of my mind as we ducked through a door into the main interior space, a luxurious lounge area where rich teak wood lined the walls behind cream leather wraparound seating. Beyond lay a small galley with basic appliances and a dining area.
“Staterooms are down those stairs. The head’s down there too. The toilet in the one up here needs repairs, so please don’t use it.”
Jupe whistled as he dropped the cooler. “Pretty sweet. You could almost live here. TV, stereo, video games . . . Look, Cady, this place even has a bar.”
“Oh, boy,” I said without enthusiasm.
“Little to no cell reception once we hit Big Sur,” the captain said. “All that rugged coastline makes for a poor signal. But I’ve got Wi-Fi in the main cabin, and the password is Hotlegs, if you need to use it.”
That was too much for Jupe to handle with a straight face. But the smart-ass comment he was preparing to unleash died on his lips when a familiar figure darkened the doorway to the salon.
Kar Yee’s ultra-straight dark bobbed hair was windblown, her aqua halo dim. The Hong Kong ex-pat was dressed in skinny jeans, a long black shirt that clung to her slender hips, and a puffy gold lamé jacket that could’ve been stolen out of a Real Housewives cast member’s closet.
“Well, well. Nice boat, Captain Lon. Where’s your parrot?”
Her teasing sailed over the real captain’s head. “Richard Christie, at your service, madam.” He extended an eager hand to Kar Yee as his gaze dragged over her figure.
She gestured to a box of saltwater taffy in her hand as an excuse for not returning the handshake. “Sticky fingers.”
“Hi, Kar Yee.” Jupe’s face relaxed into a loopy grin. He’d been nursing an epic crush on my business partner for over a month now. No matter that she was my age. He’d practically pledged his hand in marriage.
Jupe surveyed the cloudless blue sky. “I don’t see a storm.”
“A small one just popped up on the scanner.” The captain’s leathery cheeks plumped as he grinned down at Jupe. Deep lines etched the corners of his eyes and the space between his sun-kissed bushy eyebrows. “Don’t worry. Captain Christie will make sure you have nothing but sunny skies on your afternoon voyage, little man.”
A look of supreme annoyance passed over Jupe’s face. I saw his mouth opening and poked him in the ribs to halt whatever retort he was ready to let fly. He checked himself and grumbled under his breath. “Little?”
But the captain took no notice of Jupe’s injured pride and continued on in his oblivious way. “Come aboard. I’ll give you a tour while we’re waiting on the last passenger.”
The three of us filed onto the yacht, listening to the captain’s pack-a-day raspy voice as he took us through a fishing area at the bow of the boat and showed us where life jackets were stored. A larger aft deck stretched over the back of the boat, housing a small dining table and built-in seating that curved around a low table. A nearby ladder led down to a small swim platform.
Lon was considering buying a boat—another reason for our excursion—albeit a much smaller one than this. He owned a nice chunk of coastal land and had already commissioned plans for potential boathouses and docks to get a feel for the overall cost.
What it boiled down to was a whole assload of cash. Not worth it, in my working-class opinion, but hey. It was hcurey. It is bank account, and he wasn’t often flamboyant with spending money.
“Little nippy for bikini weather,” the captain said to me as he pointed to long vinyl mattresses flanking the seating. “But these sun pads are nice for tanning, if it warms up down the coast. No need to be shy around Captain Christie—he’s seen it all!” He gave Lon a nudge with his elbow as he winked.
Lon’s brows knitted into an annoyed V. “Captain Christie will not be seeing any of her.”
“Only a joke!” The captain struggled with a smile, but Lon continued to gaze down at him with stoic contempt.
The corners of Jupe’s mouth curled as he snorted a laugh near my ear. “This guy’s a winner.”
It’s hard to reprimand a kid when they’re right.
A faint line of light caught my eye on the swimming platform below. At first I thought it was just sunlight, but as I leaned over the rail for a better look, I spotted a thin band of white light running around the hull of the boat like a bow on a package.
Heka. Magical energy.
“You have a protective ward on your boat,” I said to the captain. Sure, plenty of houses and businesses around town were warded with magick, but it wasn’t exactly commonplace, and I’d never seen a ward on a boat. It immediately made me suspicious.
“Oh, yes.” He scratched his face. “Just a little, uh, extra protection.”
“Against?”
“Pirates?” Jupe guessed.
“Thieves.” The captain cleared his throat. “Nothing to worry about. Everything’s secure and tight now. I haven’t had any issues since I had the ward installed.”
“My dad put a ward around our house,” Jupe offered freely. “We had imp problems.”
“Yes, well . . . no imps on the Baba Yaga.” He waved us away from the swimming platform. “Let me show you around inside the salon.”
I glanced at Lon, who gave me a quick shrug. As long as we weren’t in any danger of getting boatjacked, I supposed it was none of my business.
I put the ward out of my mind as we ducked through a door into the main interior space, a luxurious lounge area where rich teak wood lined the walls behind cream leather wraparound seating. Beyond lay a small galley with basic appliances and a dining area.
“Staterooms are down those stairs. The head’s down there too. The toilet in the one up here needs repairs, so please don’t use it.”
Jupe whistled as he dropped the cooler. “Pretty sweet. You could almost live here. TV, stereo, video games . . . Look, Cady, this place even has a bar.”
“Oh, boy,” I said without enthusiasm.
“Little to no cell reception once we hit Big Sur,” the captain said. “All that rugged coastline makes for a poor signal. But I’ve got Wi-Fi in the main cabin, and the password is Hotlegs, if you need to use it.”
That was too much for Jupe to handle with a straight face. But the smart-ass comment he was preparing to unleash died on his lips when a familiar figure darkened the doorway to the salon.
Kar Yee’s ultra-straight dark bobbed hair was windblown, her aqua halo dim. The Hong Kong ex-pat was dressed in skinny jeans, a long black shirt that clung to her slender hips, and a puffy gold lamé jacket that could’ve been stolen out of a Real Housewives cast member’s closet.
“Well, well. Nice boat, Captain Lon. Where’s your parrot?”
Her teasing sailed over the real captain’s head. “Richard Christie, at your service, madam.” He extended an eager hand to Kar Yee as his gaze dragged over her figure.
She gestured to a box of saltwater taffy in her hand as an excuse for not returning the handshake. “Sticky fingers.”
“Hi, Kar Yee.” Jupe’s face relaxed into a loopy grin. He’d been nursing an epic crush on my business partner for over a month now. No matter that she was my age. He’d practically pledged his hand in marriage.
