Dark and Stormy Page 5

  A Goddamned Nosfer-hotu.

  “Well, come on then, Princess Buttercup,” I said, edging past the vampire. But, before I could so much as take another step, the door opened, and a slender hand flicked on the lights. I cringed, blinking rapidly to cope with the abrupt shift between semi-darkness and light. A man with dark hair poked his head in.

  “Oh good! You’re finally here,” he said. “I swore I heard a couple in here, but thought I’d give you two a few minutes alone to work out your differences.” His eyes flicked to the bed expectantly, saw it still neatly made, and shot a withering look at Alucard. “You, of all people, Alucard, should know that these beds aren’t made for talking…” he grinned playfully.

  I blinked a few more times, desperately trying to get a good look at the man’s face, although it hardly mattered; I knew that voice. I remembered it as clearly as the day I first heard it blaring out from the loudspeakers in Magnus’ garden while I squared off against a monster made of stone and glass. I doubted I would ever forget it; the voice haunted my dreams. I didn’t have to see his face to know he’d be beautiful—his features so symmetrical, so flawless in their proportions, that it felt like God had been drunk when He designed everyone else.

  Hell, maybe He had been. Drunk off achieving perfection.

  Because He’d broken the mold with Dorian Gray.

  Chapter 7

  I snarled and lunged forward…or tried to anyway; the bed was so close to the wall that the best I could do was shuffle towards him, hands outstretched as if I might strangle him from a distance.

  “Hello again,” Dorian said, smiling. His smile began to falter as I got closer, gauging my lethal intent. “Whoa! Hey! Calm down,” Dorian stammered, backing away from the doorway and out of reach.

  I sped up, shuffling my feet faster, banging my poor knees against the bedframe. I cursed. He was going to pay for that, too, the bastard. The instant I cleared the bed, I bolted, tearing down the hallway towards the smug prick. I tossed my backpack towards Alucard, who was hot on my heels.

  “We can’t let him get away!” I insisted. Before Alucard could reply, I charged forward, putting on an extra burst of speed to make up the difference. “I’m goin’ to roast ye alive, ye miserable fucker!” I called. “You’re goin’ to wish ye could die like the rest of us when I’m through with ye!”

  Dorian barked a laugh as he turned the corner, moving surprisingly well for a man who should have died centuries ago. “You know, I told her this was a bad idea!” he yelled, clearly amused.

  I didn’t bother responding. I was too pissed off. No one got away with pitting me against the monsters for their own entertainment. No one. Besides, Dorian had sided with the Marquis—one of the Fallen who’d possessed a detective and used his authority to abduct girls in New York City under the noses of the police—which meant Dorian was definitely a bad guy. And nobody misses, or even sheds a tear for, the bad guys.

  Not for long, anyway.

  By the time I turned the corner, Dorian had already made it to the end of a long hallway and was hurriedly fumbling with the door, jamming his keycard in and out of the slot, but too rapidly for it to release the magnetic lock. He groaned, but finally managed to slow down long enough to make it work.

  By then it was too late.

  We went down together, crashing through the door to collapse onto the deck of a ship. I pinned him savagely to the ground, straddling his chest so he couldn’t buck me off, and raised a fist to start pummeling him. It was a shame Dorian and I weren’t on better terms, because I felt like he—the host of many a Fight Club event—might appreciate the irony.

  See, I felt like destroying something beautiful.

  Except Alucard stopped me. He latched one hand around my wrist, his grip like iron, and coughed. “Hey Quinn, we, uh, have company…”

  I yanked my wrist free, but stopped long enough to see what it was the Daywalker was talking about. Turned out he was right; we had company. A lot of it. A lot of half-naked, male company. And it was sunny—like middle-of-the-day sunny, so bright I had to squint to see. I glanced down at Dorian and realized he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of pink shorts that rode comically high up on his legs. The t-shirt read: Symposium of the Seas.

  “Where the hell are we?” I snarled, balling my hands in Dorian’s shirt and jerked, forcing him to raise his head up and look me in the eye.

  “Well, honey,” a man said from a lounge chair only a few feet away, “I’d say you’re on the wrong boat. The All-Women’s Cruise is next week.” The man who’d spoken lowered his sunglasses, staring at us with steely grey pupils so pale they were only a shade darker than the whites of his eyes. He had a dark, deep tan and copper-gold hair. Taken in all at once he looked classically Greek, with large eyes, a perfectly straight nose, wide lips, and thick eyelashes.

  “They’re with me, Narcissus,” Dorian ground out, finding it difficult to breathe with me sitting across his chest.

  “I’ve told you before, Dorian,” Narcissus replied, “it’s never a good idea to mix business with pleasure.” He eyed me briefly, then did a much more thorough head-to-toe study of Alucard, inadvertently licking his lips in the process. “But I guess you could do worse.”

  I glared down at the man beneath me. “Explain.”

  “Fine, but let me up…this floor is filthy,” Dorian replied.

  “It really is,” Narcissus chimed in, smirking.

  The four of us retired to a set of lounge chairs near the front of the boat so as not to upset the other patrons; the sight of a woman on board had threatened to traumatize the men in attendance, so Narcissus had suggested we move out of sight. I’d opted to store my weapons and bug-out bag in a storage closet; if the stories could be believed, no matter how many bullets I put in him, Dorian Gray wasn’t likely to become any less obnoxious.

  Though, if push came to shove, I was more than prepared to put that to the test; it’s not often target practice comes with a live, undying victim, after all.

  Once we’d settled down a little, Dorian—hands smothered in suntan lotion—began liberally applying the chalky mess to Narcissus’ naked back, drawing sensual furrows down the man’s spine, seemingly in no hurry to offer an explanation.

  Narcissus, meanwhile, seemed more than content to lie there in silence, peering longingly at his sunglasses—at least until Dorian swatted them out of his hand. “Narcissus, no mirrors. Come on now, you know better,” Dorian chastised.

  I frowned, recalling the myth of Narcissus—a Greek who thought himself so beautiful he’d spurned love to stare at his reflection in a pool until he eventually wasted away and died…or became a flower. Or something.

  Greek myths were always a little too allegorical for my taste.

  Narcissus sighed. “You’re right, Dorian. It’s just so distracting.”

  “I know, Petal, it’s a very nice face,” Dorian said, returning his attention to the task at hand—lathering up the vainest man alive. I couldn’t be sure, what with the sound of the waves lapping against the hull, but it sounded eerily like the Greek was purring.

  “Listen,” Dorian said, flicking his eyes up at me a moment later, “I only agreed to help you out as a favor to Callie. I owed her, and now we’re even.”

  I fought the urge to deck the fucker. “And what, ye t’ink we’re even, then?” I hunched forward and snapped my fingers in front of Dorian’s eyes, drawing them away from the half-naked Greek. “Ye almost got me and mine killed with that little Fight Night stunt of yours, ye self-righteous son of a bitch,” I growled.

  “I didn’t force you to fight,” Dorian said, looking bored. “Although I must admit, you put on quite the show. You all did.” Dorian’s gaze swung around to Alucard, who lounged back in his chair, sunbathing like a cat in a windowsill, eyes half-lidded. His skin glowed, faintly, lighting him up from the inside like a lantern. “That was quite the trick you pulled on Magnus. You know…I have plenty of other contenders who wouldn’t mind taking on a Daywalke
r. You and I could work something out…”

  “Dorian,” Narcissus snapped. “Remember the rules.”

  Dorian sighed. “No talking business on the boat, Petal, yes. I remember.”

  I frowned, studying the two men. The legendary hedonist, Dorian Gray, and Narcissus, the man who loved his own reflection so much he’d wasted away staring at it…a couple? I shook my head, wondering how their egos could fit on the same continent, let alone the same boat. I stared out at the water and took a deep, calming breath. My first instinct had been to toss Dorian Gray overboard and see how long his immortal body could hold up against the oceanic wildlife…but he had a point; we’d opted to take center stage during the fight, even if it was only for the sake of saving Othello and the girls. And it had all turned out well in the end—in the sense that everyone I wanted dead ended up dead.

  At his core, Dorian Gray was an entertainer. A showman. A sleazy bastard, sure, but I’d done business with worse men. Still, it was probably best to act like I carried a grudge for the time being; men are much easier to manipulate when they think they owe you an apology for something.

  “Ye said Callie arranged this?” I said, waving idly at the ocean.

  “She did.”

  I scowled, already plotting my revenge. If Callie thought she could get away with pranking me like this, she had another think coming. I glanced over at Alucard, whose eyes had cracked open just a bit. “How d’ye figure Callie even got involved?” I asked.

  The Daywalker shrugged. “Othello makes friends easily, unlike some people. My guess,” he said, before I could give him a tongue-lashing, “is she found out about this cruise liner from one of the Greeks in St. Louis and pulled a few strings to get us on it.”

  Narcissus made a face. “St. Louis. You couldn’t pay me to go back.”

  Dorian leaned in, resting his chin on the other man’s shoulder, and whispered, “You only say that because Echo is there.”

  “Echo?” I…echoed.

  Alucard crossed one ankle over the other and responded before Dorian could. “She was a nymph Narcissus spurned, at least according to Ovid. Went something like ‘when she saw Narcissus wandering through the remote fields, she was inflamed’,” Alucard intoned, clearly quoting from a book.

  All three of us stared at the vampire.

  “I ran a bookstore for a while,” he drawled.

  Narcissus tensed and turned away, the muscles in his back bunched together as if he might spring away at any moment. Dorian began massaging the Greek’s neck and glanced back at us. “He feels guilty, poor thing. As if that girl were his fault.” Dorian kissed the back of Narcissus’ head, like a doting parent. “But that’s alright, we’ll get him out to Kansas City one of these days. Midas has begun purchasing some real estate in town, you know,” Dorian purred. “I’m thinking of throwing a little party. Nobody does decadence like the Greeks.”

  “That’s true…” Narcissus replied, sounding mollified.

  Dorian winked at us behind his companion’s back. “Anyway, Callie was a bit cagey with the details. How can we get you lovely people out of our hair? Unless you’d rather stay…” Dorian eyed us both as if our measurements weren’t the slightest mystery.

  “We need to go to the Bermuda Triangle,” I said, glaring at the immortal.

  Narcissus propped himself up on his elbows and glanced back at me, his wavy hair cascading down one side of his face. “Honey, this is a cruise liner, not a charter ship. I can’t exactly change course because you have somewhere you need to be.”

  Alucard spoke up, causing Narcissus to swivel his head around, flipping his hair back dramatically. “Well, where are we now?”

  “We’re really not that far away,” Dorian said, tracing squiggles down Narcissus’ spine. “You could always say we had to reroute to avoid that storm. Besides, I wouldn’t mind docking in Puerto Rico. It’s always so festive there.”

  Narcissus glanced sidelong at his companion. “You make it sound like you planned this, Dorian…”

  “Nonsense. Merely taking advantage of the situation. I like to be…” he reached out and tugged a little on Narcissus’ hair, “adaptable.”

  Alucard coughed into his hand. “I’m sorry, did you say something about a storm?”

  Dorian shrugged. “Yes. Hurricane-something-or-other. I can never keep up with the names.”

  “I’ll have to clear it with the crew and passengers,” Narcissus warned.

  “You handle the crew. I’ll handle the passengers,” Dorian replied.

  “Are you sure we’re going to be alright?” Alucard interrupted. “That we won’t get caught up in this storm, I mean.”

  I glanced over at the vampire, noticing he looked a little paler than usual, as silly as that sounded. The flickering glow beneath his skin had faded, and there was a tightness around his eyes, too, that hadn’t been there before. “Not a fan of storms, then, I take it?” I asked.

  Alucard shook his head, his eyes flashing red. “Not hurricanes, no.”

  Oh, right.

  Shit.

  “Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

  Dorian flicked his eyes back and forth between us. “Something I should know?”

  “He’s from New Orleans,” I explained.

  Dorian arched an eyebrow. “Well yes, dear, I caught that. The accent pretty much gave the game away. What about it?”

  “You know, Dorian, you can be a bit insensitive at times,” Narcissus quipped. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

  Dorian chuckled. “Everyone tells me that eventually, Petal. Why, what’d I do this time?”

  Alucard swung his legs around and rose. “I’m going for a walk. Let me know what you fancy boys decide.”

  “Fancy boys…” Dorian sniggered as Alucard walked off. “Just how old is he, anyway?”

  I frowned at the departing immortal, ignoring Dorian’s question. One, he didn’t deserve to know. Two, I had no idea. “Can ye get us there, then?”

  Dorian studied his impeccably manicured nails. “Perhaps. You’d have to owe me a favor, though…”

  “Dorian,” Narcissus growled. “No business on my ship.”

  Dorian sighed, exasperated. “Fine. Yes, we’ll get you there. But be sure to pass along how helpful I was to Miss Penrose. That’s one woman whose good side I hope to stay on.”

  I snorted. “That’s probably the most sensible t’ing you’ve said all day.”

  “He does have his moments,” Narcissus mumbled, settling his head back down on the lounge chair. “Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama…” Narcissus began humming under his breath.

  Dorian scowled at us both.

  It almost made him look ugly.

  Almost.

  I met Alucard on the ship’s starboard side…or was it port? Whichever. The vampire was sitting on the railing, legs dangling out over the water, clutching the metal bar on either side to maintain his balance. Or at least that’s how it looked; I was fairly sure he could simply levitate in place if he felt so inclined. The sun was beginning to set, and the two immortals had long since gone their separate ways to inform the crew and passengers of our change in destination. The sky was awash in color, pinks and blues and oranges, hues you never saw swimming above the city skyline.

  Then again, we were on a gay cruise ship owned by the original narcissist, so it was rather tame in comparison. Like the approaching sunset was trying to out-gay the cruise ship.

  “I never did care for the water,” Alucard said, turning a bit to look me in the eye. “Even when I was a boy. My sister loved it. She loved everything about the bayou, but especially loved the gulf.”

  “I didn’t know ye had a sister,” I said, stepping out onto the deck beside him.

  “This was before, back when we were mortal. A long time ago,” he trailed off, stiffly.

  “Ah,” I said, shaking my head. “I never had any siblin’s, just me aunt. I t’ink I’d have liked to have a sister, maybe. Someone to share sec
rets with. Someone to have me back in a tussle.”

  “She wasn’t that kind of sister,” Alucard said, his voice tinged with bitterness.

  “Right,” I said, deciding to change the subject. “I’m sorry for what Dorian said, before. Although it’s your fault for stoppin’ me from bashin’ the fucker’s brains in.”

  Alucard barked a laugh. “I think they’d have buried you at sea, if you had. He’s a popular guy.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Aye, for the same reason a drug dealer’s popular. He’s everyone’s friend because he can get them what they want…until he can’t. One day he’ll end up in a deep, dark hole, and no one will bother lettin’ him out.”

  Alucard grinned. “You’re a bit morbid, cher. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Says the vampire pinin’ over the city he left behind,” I shot back, then grimaced and hung my head.

  Shit.

  So much for trying to make the fanger feel better.

  Alucard nudged me with his shoulder. “No harm in telling things as they are. You’re right about me, though not for the reason you think. I do regret leaving my city behind…but then it really wasn’t my city, anymore. My city, the New Orleans I grew up in, the New Orleans I ran…well, as they say, time and tide wait for no man. Or vampire, since that’s what you prefer.”

  I sighed. Guess we were doing this—the sharing thing. God, I fucking hated the sharing thing.

  “Ye know, I dated your kind once,” I said, gazing out at the water to avoid Alucard’s wide-eyed stare. “He got me into the business I’m in now. Showed me the ropes. How to shoot a gun. How to take a punch. He liked bein’ around me, ye see. I made him feel human. Besides, I didn’t break as easily as the others.”

  I heard my voice lose its inflection as I continued, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, “In the end, when they came for him, I ran. I left him trapped, burnin’. He tried to keep me there as our little shop went up. Probably thought it was a poetic way to go…he always was into that Romeo and Juliet garbage. I ended up havin’ to break his arm to get free. Shattered me knee that night, runnin’ from the bastards who came for us. Afterwards, I swore I’d never let another bloodsucker near me.” I leveled my gaze at Alucard, and whatever he saw there made him flinch. “All I’m sayin’ is, don’t take it personal, alright?”