Grave Destinations (12 page)

Uncertainty mixed with suspicion, chipping away at Ruby’s belief in Jack’s innocence. She couldn’t bring herself to believe he was responsible, but the splinter of doubt still festered in the back of her mind.

Eyes facing the stainless-steel doors, she asked, “How do we find it?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Dmitri’s mouth. “The old-fashioned way. We hunt.”

 

Before they began, Dmitri gave Ruby a crash course in how to hunt for beings fitting the general description of “Other.” He taught her to ignore her external senses, to rely solely on the reaper’s innate ability to tap in to the constant pulse of mortality, to sift through the clutter in search of “different” instead of “dying.” It was an exercise that reapers rarely performed, but it didn’t take long before she got the gist of it.

From stem to stern, they searched the bars, the nightclubs, the casino, the comedy club, and every other nightspot the ship offered as entertainment, until Ruby’s feet throbbed with exhaustion. They even checked the video arcade and the gym for the sake of being thorough. Then they went back to square one and started all over again.

Nothing.

“Maybe it jumped ship at St. Angelique,” Ruby said as they claimed two seats at the bar inside the casino. The late hour had done little to lessen the crowds. All of the slots but two were taken, the tables surrounded by gamblers. Players dressed in a wide variety of styles, from wedding reception formal to Walmart casual, and everything in between. No matter the outfit, they all shared the dream of hitting it big in a place where the odds were stacked hopelessly against them.

“It’s possible, but I doubt it. Creatures like this are too opportunistic to pass up the chance for an easy meal.” Dmitri caught the bartender’s attention and ordered vodka on the rocks. “What would you like to drink?”

She stopped rubbing her foot long enough to glance up at the waiter. Normally, she would have flirted with the hunky Latino, but she felt too tired and cranky to do anything more than say, “Sweet tea, please.”

One of the nearby slots lit up like a Christmas tree, bells clanging as a handful of coins dropped into the shiny metal pan on the bottom. The man sitting in front of the machine let out an excited whoop, his lady friend squealing like they’d just won the lottery.

“We’ll make one more round before calling it a night,” Dmitri said once the bartender left to make their drinks.

Wonderful. At this rate, she’d be hobbled by the end of the evening. She shot him a look that would have sent lesser men packing. Dmitri simply ignored it.

If she had to be honest, she still wasn’t a hundred percent sure of what they were searching for. From what he’d told her, the incubus could change its appearance to suit its needs, which was why it was so important to hunt with her mind instead of her eyes. But since she’d yet to find anything outside the norm of humanity, she didn’t know if it was because there weren’t any on board, or if she simply sucked as a hunter.

“Tell me again how we’re going to find it?”

“You’ll know it when you sense it.” His eyes never left the basketball game on the television over the bar.

“You mean like porn?”

He didn’t answer, just shot her a level stare. The bartender came back with their drinks, forcing her to hold her tongue until Dmitri settled the tab.

“I’m serious,” she said as soon as the bartender moved to the next customer. “I’d like to have some idea of what the hell I’m looking for.”

Dmitri’s shirt pulled tight against his muscular chest as he twisted around in his seat. One hand held his vodka while his dark eyes roamed the crowded casino. A haze of cigarette smoke blanketed the room, thick enough to obscure the pool tables on the opposite end.

“There.” He nodded toward the roulette table in the middle of the room. “See the older woman in the green and blue dress?”

Following his line of vision, she spotted the woman standing beside an elderly bald man wearing a tuxedo. Slender build. Immaculate hair. Elegant dress. She exuded a class and confidence that came only from inherited wealth. A mountain of blue and red chips filled the space on the table in front of her, growing larger when the ball landed on twenty-nine black. “Yeah, what about her?”

“She’s a witch.”

Ruby shot him an incredulous look. “You mean like riding a broomstick, turning people into frogs kind of witch?”

“They don’t ride broomsticks,” Dmitri replied without missing a beat. “Don’t know anything about the frogs. But they are very real. Focus on her vitality.”

“You better not be pulling my leg,” she grumbled as she concentrated her focus on the roulette table. One by one she blocked out the mortal signatures of the other gamblers, until only the woman’s life force registered in her mind.

“Well, bless her heart.”

The woman’s vitality held a slightly higher pitch than what Ruby considered normal, but not so out of the ordinary that she’d notice it under normal circumstances. Human, but with a little extra something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

It reminded her of Jack’s vitality, only his felt richer and more vibrant.

“Will the demon feel the same way?”

“Not quite. The witch is human. The demon is not. Its signature will carry a stronger resonance.”

Just like Jack. Well, ain’t that just a kick in the pants. Every time she angled for exoneration, the hole kept getting deeper and deeper.

The pulse of fresh death yanked her from her thoughts. So much for the demon jumping ship at St. Angelique.

“Did you feel that?”

Ruby nodded. “It’s pretty weak.”

“That’s because it’s just getting started.” Dmitri’s eyes lit with excitement. “We still have time to track it to the source.” He slammed back his drink and set the empty glass on the table. Gesturing with a nod toward the exit, he said, “Let’s move.”

L
ike hounds after a fox, they tracked their quarry.

Out of the casino. Across the hall. A shortcut through the Nautical Mile. It took some effort to keep pace with Dmitri’s long strides as he stalked across the length of the ship. The pulse of mortality strengthened with each passing second, the sensation growing louder and more insistent as they drew closer to their prey.

Up two flights of stairs, and the call of death spiked to a roar, blazing through Ruby’s veins like a bolt of electricity. She kicked off her shoes so she could move faster, holding them by the straps as she followed Dmitri down a long corridor leading to their final destination.

Suddenly, he came to a halt in front of cabin 748. He jiggled the handle and found the door locked.

“The last time I had to get a member of the crew to—”

Before she had the chance to finish her sentence, he’d pulled a master key from inside his wallet.

“How did you—” The question died in her throat. “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”

“Probably best that way.” When the light blinked green, he pushed the door open and they both slipped inside the darkened cabin. A flick of the switch and the room flooded with soft light.

The cabin was vacant, save for the woman’s body lying on the bed, her legs spread wide in a vulgar display. It was a blonde this time. Naked as a jaybird, just like the other. Mid-thirties, by Ruby’s best estimate, with a curvy build and large breasts. Face frozen in a look of pure pleasure. No visible scars or tattoos marked her body, although she sported enough piercings to set off the metal detectors at Orlando International Airport.

Dmitri made quick work of checking the room for signs of life, gave a curt nod to confirm that they were truly alone. The cabin had no balcony, which meant the killer must have slipped out the front door seconds before their arrival. Since they were so focused on the call of death, they may have walked right past him in the hallway.

Might as well get this over with, Ruby thought as she inched closer to the foot of the bed.

“No, I’ll take this one.” Dmitri stopped her advance with a hand to her shoulder.

“You sure?”

He nodded, his grim expression steeled with resolve. “It’ll help me get a feel for our prey.”

With the fatality so fresh, the soul had yet to abandon its ties to the physical form. Dmitri crouched at the side of the bed, his gaze trained on the dead woman. His eyes dulled, cold and flat as he probed with his mind for the delicate seam binding body and spirit. At last he found it, exerting just enough pressure to sever the connection and nudge the soul free. Securing his grasp, he drew it toward him with a mastery that came from years of experience.

He sucked in a breath when the soul merged with his body. Judging by the look on his face, he sensed no evil in the woman’s essence, just a solid blanket of benevolent warmth. His eyes drifted shut, and when they opened again the whites were covered with a milky gray. A few seconds ticked by, and the haze gradually cleared, returning his eyes to their usual piercing clarity.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. I just . . .” He blinked a few times, coughed into his fist to clear his throat. Brows lowered, he appeared genuinely perplexed. “In all my years, I have never encountered a soul so enthralled it failed to recognize its own death.”

She’d never seen him unhinged before, and the sight set her own nerves on edge. “The one I reaped knew she was dead, but she’d been gone a while by the time I arrived.”

He nodded, still looking off kilter. He stared at the wall and blinked a few times before his normal air of confidence returned. “It won’t feed again tonight, so we might as well get some rest.”

A quick check of the peephole, and they were on their way. The late hour was drawing passengers back to their cabins, and the corridors were more crowded than just a few minutes before. A trio of young women walked past them in the hall, sizing Dmitri up like a big, juicy steak they wanted to devour. Not that she really blamed them. Tall, dark, and dangerous had that kind of effect on a lot of women.

“Where are you staying?” Ruby asked him as they headed toward the stairwell.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Cabin 318. I dropped my gear off before looking for you.”

Why was she not surprised by his answer? With the ship booked to capacity, she seriously doubted there were any other available cabins for him to bunk in. Of course, that didn’t mean she had to like it. Her room lacked adequate space for one person. Two would make things downright claustrophobic. Not to mention the total absence of privacy, and his tendency to talk in his sleep.

“I’ll need to summon Samuel once we reach the room,” he said as they emerged from the stairwell and onto deck three. “He’ll expect an update. You might not want to be around for the next half hour or so.”

“Fine by me.” Encounters with Samuel ranked a few spots below pelvic exam on her list of favorite things. Besides, she’d already planned on taking a detour before turning in for the night. One way or another, she planned on finding out if Jack was responsible for both women’s deaths. The possibility nagged at her conscience, and she doubted she could sleep until she learned the truth. Affirming his innocence would take a huge load off her chest. And if he was truly nothing more than a demon with a pretty face? God help him. “I’m sure I can find some way to pass the time.”

Dmitri slanted her a look. “Don’t pass too much time. I need you fresh tomorrow morning.”

She met his look with one of her own. “Relax. I know what I’m doing.”

“Famous last words.”

The sound of pounding woke Jack from a deep sleep. That alone pissed him off. He’d been dreaming of Ruby, of the things he planned to do with her once he finally got her alone and undressed. Nothing illegal. Or overly kinky. Well, maybe not the first time around. The dream had left him achy and painfully erect, his body straining for release.

Whoever was responsible for yanking him out of that particular fantasy was in for a world of trouble.

Maybe the knocking came from the room next door, he hoped as he flipped onto his back, right before another round shook the pictures on the wall. Nope, someone was definitely beating on his door. Bleary-eyed and still sporting a hard-on, he kicked back the covers and stumbled in the darkness toward the entrance to his cabin.

Peering through the peephole, he found the object of his fantasies standing in the hallway with her hands on her hips and a sour expression plastered across her face.

“Hold on,” he said, voice raspy from sleep, while he dragged on a pair of loose-fitting boxers. Taking a deep breath, he thought about baseball, and politics, and little old ladies in thong bikinis. The last one did the trick, pouring enough proverbial cold water over his libido to make himself presentable. He hit the light switch, squinting against the glare as he flipped the lock and opened the door.

“What did she look like?” Ruby demanded without so much as a hello.

“Huh?” What the hell was she talking about? Still drowsy, he scrubbed a hand across his face, rubbed the sleep from his tired eyes. “Who?”

“You know who.” Her voice carried the sharpened edge of accusation. “Yesterday’s little late-night excursion.”

A few heartbeats passed before the fog of sleep lifted and he figured out what the hell she was talking about. “You pounded on my door at”—too tired to remember he was still wearing his watch, he glanced back at the clock on the nightstand—“quarter to one to ask me about that?”

“Quit stalling and answer the question.”

If she meant to piss him off, she was doing a bang-up job. “Well, since it’s so damn important to you.” His voice took on an edge of its own. “She’s about five foot six, and a hundred forty pounds. Caucasian. Brown hair, brown eyes. Nice tits, but her ass is a little big for my tastes. Overall, about a seven on a ten scale. Satisfied?”

“Not even close. How about tonight’s snack?”

“What do you mean, tonight’s snack? There was no snack. I came straight back here after leaving you.”

He’d been wound too tight to do anything else. So he’d taken a long, cold shower, ordered a drink from room service, and then watched television for a couple hours before turning in for the night.

The crease between her eyebrows softened. “You sure about that?” Most of the fight ebbed from her voice, leaving a wariness that made him curious about her line of questioning.

“Positive. If you want proof, I can show you the receipt from room service.” Sensing something off, he opened the door all the way and made a sweeping gesture for her to enter. “If we’re going to continue this conversation, I’d rather we do so in the privacy of my cabin.”

After a moment’s pause, she walked across the threshold. She stopped short at the foot of the bed, her eyes widening as she took in the view. “Good lord. How did you manage to score a room this large?”

“That’s easy. I paid an outrageous amount of money for it.” He yawned as he combed a hand through his tousled hair. “My turn. What’s up with the twenty questions?”

Ruby lifted a shoulder. “Just curious, is all.”

“Come on, you’re a much better liar than that. You hammer on my door in the middle of the night, waking me from a sound sleep, asking me all kinds of ridiculous and insulting questions. The least you can do is come up with an explanation that’s remotely within the realm of plausibility.”

A blush of color rose in her cheeks. “Quarter to one is hardly the middle of the night,” she drawled as she stepped away from the bed, her heels sinking into the plush carpet. She glanced toward the sliding glass door and immediately turned her head away.

“It depends on who you’re asking, and what kind of day they had.” He plopped down on the rumpled bed. With his legs stretched out, his toes grazed the chair by the vanity. “My day’s been pretty shitty, so I’m fresh out of patience. I want to know why you’re here, Ruby, and I want to know now.”

Silence stretched tight between them. Ruby shifted her weight from one leg to the other, one arm wrapped around her waist while her free hand fiddled with the choker around her neck. “I had to know . . . if you . . .” She paused to clear her throat before blurting out, “Did you kill the woman you slept with last night?”

The question hit him like a blow to the gut. For a second or two he was too stunned to speak, but then the shock gave way to insult, sparking an outrage that damn near set his blood to boil. “After everything I told you tonight, you have the audacity to think I killed her?” He shot up from the bed, closing the distance between them in several angry strides. To her credit, she didn’t flinch or draw back. “Why?”

Her gaze flicked over his body, from head to toes and back up again. “Would you mind putting some clothes on? It’s kind of difficult to carry on a serious conversation while you’re dressed like . . .” She made a vague up and down gesture with her hands. “That.”

“No,” he said, close enough to see the pulse pounding in her throat. He inched closer, a part of him enjoying the fact his near nudity flustered her. “Answer the question, or I ditch the boxers.”

A ghost of a smile crossed her face before her expression soured again. Back and forth, back and forth, her fingers toyed with the choker circling her throat. Eventually, her hand stilled as she blew out an exasperated huff. “Last night, I found a body,” she said, her voice clipped with strain. “Tonight, I found another.”

“Isn’t that part of your general job description?”

“Yes, but these weren’t on the docket.”

“Which means what?”

She crossed her arms and lifted her chin up so high he could see straight down her nostrils. “It means these women weren’t supposed to die. Someone or something took their lives outside Fate’s directives.”

“And you assumed I was responsible,” he growled.

“I didn’t want to believe it. That’s why I’m here,” she snapped. “I needed to find out one way or the other before Dmitri starts sniffing in your direction. It won’t take long before he realizes you’re . . . different.”

Jack stalked across the room, the deluxe suite suddenly feeling too small for comfort. “And what were you planning to do if I’d been the guilty party? Hand me over to that asshole?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought it out that far ahead.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “All I know is the way those women died matches the way you described—.”

“The way I killed my wife?” he finished the sentence for her, the words grinding out of his mouth.

“You didn’t kill Victoria,” she shot back, her accent getting thicker as her voice got louder. “Dammit, Jack, that . . . thing inside you is responsible. And Keisha. Not you.”

“And yet you still suspected me of sucking the life out of those poor women. How trusting of you.”

Ruby’s shoulders slumped. Weariness dulled the spark from her eyes, and in spite of his fury it pained him to see her natural brilliance diminished.