Fury's Kiss (12 page)

I hung there for a second, watching little waves splash against the side of the ship and trying to convince myself that I shouldn’t attempt to murder the guy whose long hair was almost brushing my face.

“What?”
I said, glaring up at Radu. Who was looking fairly pleased for some reason.

“Oh, good. You should be able to see it from there.”

“See what?”

“The name.”

“The name?”

“Of the ship. We need to know—”

I said a bad word and started struggling to get back up. “There’s only one black ship in the whole damned marina! How hard can it be—”

“But that’s just it. There was no ship, of any color, in that slip this morning. And Kit wants—”

“Kit can kiss my ass,” I grunted. Because fingertip chin-ups aren’t fun even when you have more than half an inch to work with. “And if you want the ship’s name, look for it yourself!”

“This is your memory, Dory,” he told me, in a voice
that said he was overlooking my rudeness because he was generous like that. “I only see what you see. And by the way, Mircea says to tell you that you’re getting tired. We need to hurry this up.”

“I also…have a few things…you can tell Mircea,” I panted, somehow getting back into position. And then having to practically rupture something to maintain my balance while checking out the hull in both directions. “Tell him there’s no name.”

“None whatsoever?”

“No! And if you want me to hurry this up, you need to—”

“What are you doing?”

“Augghh!”

A head shoved through the door at me, but I somehow kept my balance. Even with the sight of those evil red eyes staring into mine from all of an inch away. Which was less of an ick factor than the neck ending in a working black mass, like a million ants were trying to consume it.

I swallowed.

“If you’d given me a moment, I would have opened the door,” Lawrence said mildly.

“Yeah, well. You failed to mention that.”

“I wouldn’t leave a partner behind,” he told me. Which would have been more comforting if the ants hadn’t taken that moment to swarm over his face, molding to the features until they were just nose- and mouth- and chin-shaped protrusions in a horrible, squirming mask. Until even that winked out and the door opened, so abruptly that I stumbled through his body on the other side.

It took everything I could do not to wipe frantically at my skin as the boiling black mass spun up around me. And then coalesced a few feet away into a vampire in a dark-colored suit. He looked like he had all the requisite parts, but my mouth still felt full of ash, my throat clogged with it, my heart beating double time because, damn.

“Take the back; I’ll cover the front,” he told me, as if nothing had happened. I just nodded. The sooner this was done, the better.

There wasn’t much to see in the living area, which was
decorated in stark black and white. Plush white couches sat on gleaming black hardwood, which also supported a white baby grand. Black and white and red art prints were scattered over walls, although there weren’t any of the kind of personal photos that might have been expected. There weren’t any personal touches at all that I could see, except for a carved raven perched over a door, its gleaming obsidian feathers catching the light through a porthole.

Very literary,
I thought, staring up at it. But not very reassuring. There also weren’t any signs of a wanted ex-lieutenant, so I moved on.

Down a flight of stairs were the bedrooms, five of them facing each other along a short hall, with the master at the end. I tried to scent something out of place without actually going into the rooms, because if there was going to be a ward or trap, it would likely be inside. But all I smelled were teak and beeswax, bright lemon cleaner and vinegary nail polish, the tang of ozone and expensive perfume and—

Nothing.

I paused outside the door of one of the smaller cabins near the end of the hall. Unlike the others, it didn’t appear to have been used recently, with no bright living scents cutting through a layer of dust. That wouldn’t have been a big deal—maybe the owners used it for storage or just didn’t have that many guests. Except for that Nothing: a gaping hole in the middle of the room’s scent story, like someone had come along with a giant pair of scissors and simply cut it out.

There were a couple of things that could do that, including a shield that hid smells like the one I was using hid sounds. It was often employed by bad guys brewing up illegal potions and people storing otherworldly ingredients or merchandise, the smells of which were so distinctive that they’d tell anybody with a nose that something was up. And considering that we were after a bunch of smugglers, that was probably all it was, just a shield in case the local War Mage Corps got curious about somebody’s stash.

But then, there was one other thing that left a big blank hole in the world.

I was about to call the expert when I felt an insubstantial hand materialize on my shoulder. “You found something.”

“Maybe. It could just be somebody’s cache of fey wine.” Which I would, of course, have to confiscate to teach them proper respect for the law.

But Lawrence shook his head. “No.”

“You’re the expert,” I said, and kicked in the door.

And okay. That wasn’t wine. The problem was that I wasn’t sure what it was, and judging by his caution as he walked over and knelt beside it, neither was Lawrence.

It didn’t look particularly threatening—just a square hole in the floor, like a trapdoor. But this door was open, and a square column of strange underwater light was shooting out the top and puddling on the room’s ceiling. Lawrence stuck his head in the hole, the light splashing his dark coat and thin features. I took my time, checking the room for nonexistent snares, before joining him.

The trapdoor turned out to be…a trapdoor. It was what was below that was interesting. A hole had been carved through the floor of the cabin and into a crawl space, and then kept on going right down to the hull. But instead of water gushing out to flood the room, there was only a film of light across the top, eerily similar to the waves outside in the way little ripples were chasing themselves across the surface.

It didn’t really look like the portal I’d been halfway expecting, which should have been either invisible when closed or a swirling mass of color when opened. But it didn’t look like anything else, either. It also still gave off no scent that I could name, but it looked like Lawrence might be having better luck. Because he’d jumped down and stuck his nose within an inch of the shining blue surface, which was ill-advised.

And then
through
it, which was crazy.

I followed and jerked him back. “What are you doing?”

He looked up in mild surprise, the first expression I’d seen him use. “Going inside.”

“Going inside
what?”

“This is a portal—”

“I got that.”

“—through which Varus went along with three others, two vampires and a human. The last was a mage, by the smell.”

Great. That was all we needed, to have one of them involved. “Dark or light?”

“It isn’t easy to tell. The differences are not as great as humans would have you believe. There was no stink of blood magic on him, meaning that he could be a light mage—”

“Or a dark one who just hasn’t slit anybody’s throat recently.”

“Not within the last ten days,” he agreed. “Which is as far back as my scent record goes.”

I just looked at him, but he wasn’t kidding. And then he wasn’t there anymore, either. Because the bat shit crazy loon had dissolved and flowed straight through the portal.

“Lawrence!” I hissed, but it was too late.

He was gone.

Not being insane—well, not at the moment—I jerked my coat open and dragged out my key chain. I snapped off an Eye of Argos charm, threaded it through my belt and broke the surface with that, trying to peer around. On the plus side, the belt didn’t catch fire or get chopped off, shredded, or otherwise destroyed. On the negative, I couldn’t see shit, even after adjusting the charm, except for a few tumbled rocks. The portal’s light on the other end was
blocking everything else.

I sat there on my heels for a second. If it had been just the two vamps we were talking about, I wouldn’t have been too worried. Anything a vampire—well, anything a
normal
vampire—could survive, so could I. But the presence of the mage made it hinky. Mages had tricks and spells and wards and traps and a whole host of other nastiness at their disposal, and that was just the light kind. I really, really didn’t like the idea of going through an unknown portal into a dark who-the-hell-knew with a possible black mage running around.

But I liked leaving Lawrence to face him on his own
even less. I could call in, explain what had happened and wait for backup
—which is what sane people did, Lawrence—
but by the time it got here, he would have already dealt with or been dealt with by whoever was down there. There would be nothing left but picking up the pieces, assuming we could find them all, which in his case wasn’t that likely.

“I never leave a partner behind,”
he’d said. Except when he did. Or when he assumed the crazy dhampir would be right on his heels. And I guess he was right, because the next thing I knew, I was slipping down through the middle of the portal and feeling the not-water closing over my head.

“What are you doing?” a voice demanded, causing me to bite my tongue on a scream. It was extraordinarily bad timing, because I hit the ground a second later, jarring my jawbone and causing my fangs to pop out. And then plunging them into my own flesh.

Which was just as well, as it kept me from uttering any of the comments that were trembling on the tip of my mangled tongue. I pried my teeth out and spat blood. It took a few seconds, because there was a lot of it, and then I looked up to find Radu hovering over me.

Literally, since his feet weren’t touching the floor. “How are you doing that?” I demanded when I could talk.

“How should I know?” he asked, looking like a testy angel with that long dark hair floating around that beautiful face. “I told you, this is new to me, too. But at a guess, the laws of physics don’t work when it’s all in your head.”

“Tell that to my jaw,” I said, rubbing it.

“Well, I’m sorry, but Mircea wants—” He stopped, tilting his head. “Mircea wants me to take you out, but Kit is arguing against it.” He winced.

“What is it?”

“Louis-Cesare is…objecting…to something Kit said,” Radu told me diplomatically.

I hoped the objecting hadn’t involved any thumps, because the day that happened I damned well wanted to be there to see it. But right now there was something I wanted more. “I need to finish this.”

Radu shook his head. “It isn’t a good idea, Dory. We can come back—”

“And the missing vampires?”

“You know they’re…” Radu looked uncomfortable. “Well, you know the odds.”

“And you know how tricky first- and second-level masters can be.”

He sighed. Considering who his brother was, yes, he did. “It would be best to be able to go after them sooner rather than later,” he admitted. “But—”

“Then get out of here.” I’d gotten to my feet and now I tried to push past him, but a pale, long-fingered hand gripped my arm. It was always surprising to remember that ’Du was a vampire, too, and also second-level. He didn’t look it, didn’t act it. But the strength of that hand was unmistakable.

“There are four missing men, ’Du,” I said, because I couldn’t break his grip. I might have, on a good day, since fighting isn’t only about strength and I know a hell of a lot more about it than Radu ever bothered to learn. But he was right—I was getting tired. Trying to fight my way out would just end this all the sooner.

But Radu didn’t let go. “When did they become men?” he asked softly.

“What?”

“They’re vampires, Dory. Not too long ago, they would have been things to you. We were all merely things.”

“No.”

“Yes.” The wavering beams of light threw odd shadows across that handsome face, making it hard to read his expression. “You killed our kind—”

“I killed the bad guys, ’Du,” I said impatiently, because I really was tired. And in pain. All the little aches Louis-Cesare had soothed away were coming back, not at full strength, but enough to remind me that he was better at killing things than healing them. “I never went after anybody who didn’t deserve it.”

“Not hurting is a different thing from saving,” he replied quietly. “There was a time when you would have let
Raymond burn up in your hallway. When you would not have cared if four strange vampires died. When you would have been like your friend Claire, who says all the right things but looks at us as if we were roaches crawling across her kitchen floor.”

“You…didn’t act like you noticed that.”

“Of course not. I am charming,” Radu pointed out.

“Yeah,” I said, because in his own, extremely weird way, he sort of was. He was also sort of right, but I didn’t think now was the time to go into it.

“Can you go Oprah on me later?” I asked. “If I’m going to do this, I really need—”

“Shit!”

The drop was a bitch. Fourteen feet isn’t fun anyway, but landing on a lot of pointy rocks is even less so. Fortunately, the points were fairly small, leaving me beat up and bloody instead of impaled. Unfortunately, they were also hot as fuck.

“Shit! Shit!”

I jumped up, getting hard boot leather between me and the floor. It looked perfectly normal—beige and rocky, except for clearer bits here and there covered with sand—but the Ray impression I was currently doing said otherwise. The knees of my jeans were burnt out, one sleeve of the leather jacket I’d been wearing was melted to my arm, and my hands—