Waterlocked
Page 25
“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. There 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.”
“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. There 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.”
