In a Fix (25 page)

The shared body heat technique must have been working, because suddenly I was feeling much warmer inside. “Did I make a big splash?” I said drowsily. “It’d be a shame if a cannonball like that was wasted.”

He chuckled softly. “Huge, Howdy. It was huge.”

“You didn’t happen to capture it on video, did you?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Too bad. It would’ve rocked on YouTube.”

Chapter 23

The mirror in the head was small, so I only had to see tiny chunks of sea-mangled me at a time. That was bad enough. Salt-encrusted hair sticking out at crazy angles, dark freckles polka-dotting a kabuki-white face, red-rimmed eyes. And my lips … ugh. Parched out of any semblance of their typical rosiness, so even my one good feature was letting me down.

I had awakened a few minutes earlier, still in the sleeping bag, with a couple of blankets piled on top for good measure, feeling good enough to be disappointed that a naked Mark was no longer sharing his warmth with me. I sighed. Skin to skin with him for that long and nothing had happened. Life is cruelly ironic sometimes. It just goes to show, when you’re bargaining with the universe, you’d better be specific or the loopholes will pop up and bite you on the ass.

Clutching the blanket I’d wrapped around myself, I opened a small cupboard under the sink and searched methodically for lip balm. I found a bar of soap, a sample-size bottle of shampoo, a stick of deodorant, shaving cream, and some disposable razors, all of which I was sure would be useful, but not what I wanted first. Was one freaking tube of ChapStick too much to ask?

Maybe Mark had some in his luggage. This wasn’t his boat, so surely he had to have packed before he came to Sweden, right? Where there was a man’s luggage, there was a toiletry bag. Where there was a toiletry bag, there might be ChapStick. I could go find him and ask.

Or I could just look for it myself. I mean, why bother him?

There were two pieces of luggage stowed near the quarter-berths. One of them was a compact leather duffel I recognized as Mark’s, the other a more structured overnight bag. I hesitated. Some might consider an uninvited search an invasion of privacy. Then I remembered my office, and just how much the men in my life, Mark included, respected
my
privacy. Screw it. I went for the duffel.

I sifted through jeans, some khakis, several shirts, and plenty of socks. When I got to the dark cotton boxer briefs, I paused and swallowed, remembering what I’d seen when Mark removed a similar pair before climbing into the sleeping bag with me. Ignoring them, I dug further, until I came upon a small leather case.

Sure enough, there was the lip balm. Also, an electric razor, some ibuprofen, a small bottle of peroxide, a few bandages, and a box of condoms. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, and told myself to grow up. Mark was an adult. He was a man. Of course he had a sex life. Obviously. One that didn’t include me, also obviously.

Unless … I supposed he
could
have purchased them after my drunken kiss on his sailboat had opened his eyes to certain possibilities, and he wanted to be prepared if anything, well, popped up between us. (Naïve? Maybe, but I preferred “optimistic.”)

I took the ChapStick and arranged everything else back the way it was. The other suitcase was tempting me, but since I’d already found what I was after, I decided to take the high road and leave it. I can be big.

Back in the head, I snapped up the shower curtain, and rinsed myself with the handheld nozzle. Getting the residual salt off me improved my outlook a thousand percent. My short, wavy hair was easily finger-fluffed into an acceptable ’do, and the balm restored my lips reasonably well. What it couldn’t do, I took care of with a smidge of aura adapting, at the same time as I toned down my freckles and got rid of the baggage under my eyes. I told myself it wasn’t really cheating, since I didn’t look any different from my usual, predunk-in-the-ocean self. And, dammit, what good was having a talent like mine if you couldn’t take advantage of it now and then?

The first thing I noticed when I went up on deck was the spectacular sunset. The bright white orb hovered just between the wispy clouds and the rippling water, turning the sky pink and giving the ocean a golden cast. There was a breeze, but it wasn’t cold, and the hot shower had banished any lingering effects from my frigid dip. My only problem was that I didn’t have any clothes at hand. I’d wrapped the blanket back around me, two corners crisscrossed in front and tied behind my neck to form a kind of makeshift toga. I was hoping to find something a little more tailored.

We were docked at the marina, surrounded by other sailboats, all of which seemed to have people on deck enjoying the view. At the front of our boat, also appreciating Mother Nature, was a curvaceous young woman with auburn hair that hung past her shoulders. She looked right at home, coiling ropes like a pro.

“Billy?” I said.

She turned, and I saw at once that it wasn’t Billy’s recent incarnation.

“No…” She smiled and approached me.

Okay. I squinted at her suspiciously. “Mark?” I said, a little less confidently. I really couldn’t think why he’d need to appear as a woman, but maybe it was his cover for being here in Visby.

She laughed softly. “No again. I’m Laura. And you must be Ciel.” Her words were unrushed, her voice low-pitched and kissed by the south. Even her handshake was genteel.

“Um, yeah.” I looked around. “Where’s Mark?”

“He had to meet with someone.” She studied my face. “Are you feeling all right, hon? You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“No, I’m fine. Fit as a fiddle. Right as rain. Couldn’t be better. Who the hell are you?”

Her easy smile was bland, meant to soothe. My stomach was starting to feel a little uneasy as I flashed back to the box of condoms. She and Mark couldn’t be … could they? But why not? She was beautiful. He certainly hadn’t stuck around in the sleeping bag with me any longer than necessary, had he? Why would he be interested in a scrawny, salt-caked Popsicle when he had lovely Laura—who had not one freckle in spite of the red hair—handy? And she knew her way around a sailboat, too, damn it. Mark probably thought that was sexy.

“I work with Mark,” she said. Well, I could believe that. She had the same reluctance to part with any excess information.

“At the Agency?” I asked. Might as well get it spelled out.

“Yes.” Same bland smile.

“Okay. So, how much do you know about Mark?”
Do you know about his adapting ability or not?

“I know he’s good at his job,” she said.

Oh, big help.

I tried another tack. “What did he tell you about me?”

“That you’d been kidnapped by the neo-Viking organization, and we were to extract you.”

“Anything else?”

She shrugged. “You’re his best friend’s baby sister.”

True enough, but it still stung. Is that how he’d described me? Not even
his
friend, but his friend’s baby sister?

“That’s all?” I pressed.

“What else is necessary? Mark needed backup, and here I am.”

This was getting us nowhere. Either she didn’t know a thing about adaptors, or else she knew Mark was one but didn’t think I knew. Neither one of us was going to be the first to give anything away, so I’d just have to wait and ask Mark.

“When will he be back?”

“He said sometime before morning,” she said vaguely. “If he gets held up, he’ll send Billy back again—”

“Wait—Billy was here? When?”

“Not long after we pulled back into the marina. He went below to check on you and talk to Mark. Didn’t you see him?”

I frowned. “No. I guess I was asleep.” I felt kind of uncomfortable, knowing Billy had seen me snuggled up naked in a sleeping bag with Mark, though I wasn’t sure why I should.

“That’s understandable. Almost drowning will take it right out of you. You looked nearly dead when you first boarded.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You look much better now. Really,” she said quickly.

“Lucky I recover fast,” I said, smiling as sweetly as I could. Maybe.

She cleared her throat. “So, can I get you anything? A hot drink or something to eat?”

“No, that’s okay. I’m not hungry. I could use some clothes, though, if you happen to have anything handy that might fit me.”

She hesitated.

“Actually, I don’t even care if it fits—I’m not proud. I promise to take good care of it and return it as soon as I get something of my own.” I smiled winningly. Nobody could resist my winning smile.

Except lovely Laura, apparently. She shook her head with regret that verged on being sincere. “It’s just that…” she began. Didn’t continue.

A nasty little suspicion gripped me, tightening my voice. “Mark told you not to give me any clothes, didn’t he?” Her eyes got big. I guess my face might have given away my feelings on the matter just a tad.

“Uh … not in so many words. He just suggested you might be more comfortable resting in the blankets until he gets back.”

“Did he, now? Refresh my memory—when is he supposed to be back?”

“By morning. And if he isn’t here by six, then I’m to sail you to the mainland.”

“
What?
” I wanted to shout, but managed to keep it to a horrified whisper.

“Don’t worry—I can handle the boat. Mark’s a great teacher,” she said.

Did I detect a hint of double meaning in that? I narrowed my eyes and looked her over.

“Mark’s great at a lot of things,” I said, carefully neutral, though I felt like shoving her overboard. Which wasn’t really fair of me. Mark was the one who could use a good dunk in the ocean.

“If you’re concerned about sailing with me at the helm, you needn’t be.” Her chin went up a notch. Yeah, she had the spook ego.

“Not at all,” I said, declining to add that it was moot, since I wouldn’t be sailing away from Gotland with anybody, least of all her. No point in getting her antennae up any farther than they already were. “I just hope Mark will be back before then. There are a few details he needs to know about the Vikings.” Among other things. Like, that I do not need a fucking babysitter.

“Maybe you should tell me. I’ve been working closely with Trey, monitoring the group.”

“No offense, Laura, but I think I’d rather wait for Mark. After all, I haven’t really met you in any official capacity yet, have I?”

She didn’t question my reluctance. Guess she understood all about discretion.

“That’s fine. Are you sure you aren’t hungry? I can heat up some soup if you don’t want anything heavy.”

Might be good to get her attention focused elsewhere. “You know, maybe I
should
have a little something. Build my energy back up. Do you mind if I wait up here and enjoy the view until it’s ready?” I sank down onto the built-in storage bin
cum
bench seat closest to me.

“Not at all. I’ll holler up when it’s done. Would you like me to bring you another blanket first? Mark will get mad if I let you get chilled again.”

Yeah? Just wait until you see him after you lose me
, I thought nastily.

Then I felt kind of bad for thinking it, because she really was trying to be decent to me, and it wasn’t her fault Mark decided to act like a controlling jerk. But there was no way I was going to allow myself to be carted away from the island with a stranger while Mark and Billy went about their merry rescue operation without me. Trey was my client’s fiancé, and I intended to make sure, personally, that he got delivered to her in a timely fashion.

“No, I’m fine,” I assured Laura. “It’s positively balmy out here, isn’t it? I’ll come down if I start to feel cold,” I promised, fingers crossed in the folds of my blanket.

I didn’t waste any time after she went below, padding to the front of the boat and hopping to the dock with only a slight misstep when my foot caught the bottom of the blanket. I righted myself before I fell, no harm done. Not having a clue how long it would take Laura to heat up the soup, I walked away as fast as I could without drawing unwelcome attention. I didn’t want to risk still being in view of the boat when she realized I wasn’t answering the dinner bell.

The good thing about wearing a blanket was that it would adjust to cover changing auras without much trouble, and keep me decently covered until I could score some clothes. My own face was the last one I wanted to show in town, so I’d have to switch to another one asap. But I had to find a dark niche someplace to change—too many people still wandering around to risk it in the open.

The marina was right on the edge of the Old Town, so I didn’t have far to cover before I blended in to the confusion of the festival. Finding a spot private enough to make a change was the challenge. I was jostled between groups of various sizes, most of them intent on a single destination. Nobody paid any attention to my odd attire. Maybe they all thought it was just a really miserable attempt at a medieval costume, and were being polite.

After a few minutes, I heard English being spoken—a magnet to my ear. When I saw who it was, I had to stop myself from waving.

“Come on—we have to see the fire show. We can’t come all this way and miss it.” It was Dreamy Princess girl from the hotel—Jennifer—and she was dragging along a completely smitten Kevin. Ah, youth. They recover quickly.

I continued uphill, against the predominant flow of the crowd, turning at small side streets as I came to them. Eventually I found a house with a real yard. A yard burgeoning with plant life, in fact—the perfect cover. But before I could change, I heard voices.

Disturbingly
familiar
voices.

I froze. Peeking out from the foliage I saw Per’s brother-in-law, Sam, the American who had helped launch me. He was walking down the street speaking urgently to several other Vikings, in English, saying something about heading to the southern meeting point because “the little bitch” (guess that was me) had ruined things here. One other guy said not to worry, the “big plan” was still on for tomorrow. And then they were gone, past where I could hear them.

Shit
. I had to get back to the boat and tell Laura, at least. As I stepped out of the shrubbery, I was caught from behind in an exuberant hug, my arms pinioned to my sides. Hot breath tickled my ear, and a familiar voice followed it.