"So what are we going to tell everyone when we get back?"
"Partly the truth. We tell them that Damiãno attacked with a machete last night. So we got in the skiff heading for the Barão. But he'd already killed all the passengers there. Then we say the motor got fouled up and we drifted until I could get it working again."
"Sounds good to me," she said, with a shrug, then winced at her aching neck.
"Easy, lass. You have to give that time. Coincidentally, we have some to burn...."
For hours, they traveled upriver, praying that the Contessa would still be there. Toward late afternoon, he said, "It should be just around the bend." Then he proceeded to hold his breath....
"They waited for us!" Lucia gave a relieved sigh when they saw the ship, still anchored. "And they're afloat! I don't know whose decision it was to wait, but they're my new best friend. I need a dry bed and a shower."
"Aye, and coffee and food for me. Seems like our luck is turning."
The Contessa appeared to have taken on some water, but she wasn't listing - a good sign. The old girl had more in her than Garreth had ever imagined. Her generator was still working, the water pumps humming.
Of course, the ship looked like shite. Most of the railings were gone, and the windows were shattered. The sole air-conditioning unit dangled precariously from a sagging window frame.
All over the decks, river vegetation dried, and twenty-foot arcs of mud sprayed over the ship's sides, most likely from caiman tails digging down as the creatures attacked.
"I bet the ship can make it back to port in half the time." He motored on. "We'll be running with the current, and with all the rains, the water's moving," he said, adding silently, And once I have you tucked somewhere safe, I'll go take care of this Cruach business. Alone.
"Oh, gods, look at that," Lucia said, pointing out a dead giant caiman hung up on a nearby log. Her arrows still jutted from its eyes. Flies swarmed the bloated carcass from above - piranhas from below. The fish were fighting over it, tearing at it so viciously, the caiman's limbs and tail jerked as if it were still alive.
"Rain forest garbage disposal," Garreth said. "It'll be picked clean in seconds." Giving the piranhas a wide berth, he steered them to what was left of the Contessa's platform. Once he'd tied the skiff to the ship, he carried Lucia aboard, setting her on her feet so gingerly.
"Stop treating me like crystal, MacRieve. I'm all healed up."
He wrapped an arm around her waist. "As am I. So we can be all healed up in the shower together."
"It's a date, but first thing's first. Let's find everyone."
Garreth called out, "Travis?"
No answer.
"I think Travis will probably be out of commission," Lucia said. "That hit he took would stagger even an immortal."
"Anybody here?" Garreth yelled, sniffing the air. No vampires, no Damiãno, no Loreans... so why was he uneasy? When he heard sounds coming from the salon, they headed up.
Izabel and Schecter stood within the room, their faces pale.
Lucia asked, "What's going on?"
Only when Garreth and Lucia had entered did they see three robed men behind them in the salon, covered in dried blood, with guns drawn.
45
"Cromites," Lucia sneered. That was why the Contessa hadn't left them. These bastards had been lying in wait with hostages.
All three had eyes glazed with fanaticism and bloodstained robes. Though they brandished guns, their customary weapons were holstered at their hips - swords with Cruach's horned symbol on the hilts, and more blood smeared on the blades.
"You're the ones who killed the Barão's passengers," Lucia said. Not Damiãno.
The eldest Cromite, clearly the leader of the trio, answered, "All were sacrificed in his name."
The shifter had merely picked up the machete that Izabel had dropped. Of course, then he'd been quick to shove it against Lucia's neck.
"And you brought guns?" MacRieve scoffed. "Did you come here to tickle me?"
Knowing the carnage to come, Lucia shoved the door shut in Travis's ashen face, slamming the bar lock in place.
Under a hail of fire but still shielding the bombs, MacRieve lunged for the two Cromites, slashing out at their throats with his claws. The two crumpled to the floor, one nearly decapitated, the other futilely clamping his hands over his severed jugular.
Dashing to MacRieve's side, she cried, "Ah, gods, look at your chest!" It was riddled with bullets.
"Reminds me... of our first date."
"You crazy Lykae." She pressed her lips to his forehead.