“Single.” Marit latched on to the word with both hands then leaned in close, cupping her mouth while she whispered in my ear. “Mated, married, more-than-friends. I don’t care what kind of weirdo he is as long as there are more where he came from, and he’s willing to give me directions to the motherland.”
“You have a serious sweet tooth,” I chided softly, not like it mattered. Hood could hear every word.
“I do enjoy man candy,” she agreed, straightening. “Mostly the unwrapping.”
“TMI.” I shoved her away. “T.M.I.”
“Make this quick.” She snapped her fingers in emphasis. “Cricket is making the rounds. Papa won’t be far behind her. I’m supposed to herd the stragglers, so stop straggling.”
Sure enough, I spied Cricket working the crowd, observing hostesses and tweaking performances.
With a finger wave, Marit left us alone on the balcony. Hood watched her go, and she flushed at his attention. But what she mistook as masculine appreciation was predatory intent.
“No stalking my friends.” Where was a rolled-up newspaper when you needed one? “We’ve talked about this.”
“My duty is to protect you.”
That was it. His entire argument summed up in six words.
I shook my closed fan in his face. “How is sabotaging my dress rehearsal a protective measure?”
“Treat me the same as any other member of the crew.” He backed off, hands spread. “You won’t even notice I’m here.”
Gwyllgi dropped that line a lot. Clearly, they underestimated the camouflage abilities of giant dog-lizard things.
A twang rent the air, and I swatted at my ear like a mosquito had buzzed me. “What was—?”
“Get down.” Hood tackled me, his weight crushing the oxygen from my lungs as we hit the deck. The hoopskirt flipped up, pinning one of the hard ridges under my breasts. Nostrils flared, he raised his head a scant inch higher. “I can’t scent the archer. The river masks him at this distance.”
“Archer?” Another thud rang out as a second arrow joined the first in the wooden trim above the door Marit had just walked through on her way to a dining room teeming with humans.
“We have to get off this boat,” he growled. “You’re a sitting duck out here.”
“Hold on.” I cranked my head around to see him. “I can’t just leave.”
Thwang.
“I’ll lose my job if I bail.” True panic welled in me, overriding common sense. “I’m already on my second strike.”
“You’ve got to choose.” Sympathy darkened his eyes. “What’s more important? Your job, or their safety?”
The answer would have hurt less if someone had ripped out what was left of my heart. “Their safety.”
A burst of inhuman speed left him holding an arrow he pried from the molding. He tucked the evidence into the waistband of his pants as the archer struck where his head had been a second ago.
“Stay down.” Hood climbed off me, keeping low, and gestured for me to go ahead. “Our first obstacle is getting to the first deck without being shot.”
“I can’t crawl in this.” The bottommost circular frame was rounder than my arms were long. “It’s too wide to fit down the stairwell unless I stand and fold it.”
A ripping noise had me biting my lip to hold in a dismayed cry as the hoopskirt collapsed, and the silky fabric puddled around my knees.
All of a sudden, the breeze that had buffeted my cheeks at the railing started caressing, well, my cheeks.
“Blue panties,” he tsked. “You’re a sucker for a theme, huh?”
“Shut it,” I snapped, “or I’ll tell Lethe you were looking.”
“She’s going to get the same free show as me.” He chuckled. “I’m not worried.”
Heat scalded my cheeks—the ones on my face—as I started crawling away from the dining room and all the innocents waiting on the show to start.
We hit the stairwell and climbed down on hands and knees. Hood kept so close, he almost covered me. I might have been nervous at his proximity paired with my relative nakedness had I not seen him with his mate. As it was, he was an old pro at getting around on all fours, and I was grateful for the shield he provided me.
We reached the first deck with its solid metal walls and huddled in the farthest corner from the gap leading onto the gangway.
“What’s the plan?” Dressed in a ripped bodice, panties, torn thigh-highs and tennis shoes, I wasn’t psyched about my options. “How do we get back on land?”
“The archer will be hidden where he can monitor the dock. He’s hoping we’ll panic, run off the boat, and present him with an easy target. That or he’s betting we’ll risk the water.”
“Plans A and B suck. I’ll take C.”
“B it is.” He lifted his head, flared his nostrils. “Can you swim?”
“B?” As I did the math, I squished my spine flat against the railing. “Give me a minute. I can draw on sigils that will—”
“—wash right off in the water.” He scooped me up in a bridal carry. “Take a deep breath.” With no ceremony whatsoever, he dumped me over the edge. “Hold your nose.”
The water smacked me across the back, and it stung like a slap. At least all the air I had sucked down to argue with him kept me from suffocating as I plummeted toward the silty bottom, a victim of momentum until my flailing arms slowed my descent enough for me to start clawing my way back to the surface.
Halfway there, I kicked off my shoes, saying a silent prayer of thanks to Hood for slicing me out of my dress. Those layers would have sunk me like a stone and tangled in my thrashing legs.
A massive splash bathed my face as I breached, and I sucked in enough oxygen to gasp, “Watch it, buddy.”
Treading water, I waited for Hood to pop up, but he didn’t.
A sense of foreboding swept through me, and I ducked again. This late, the dark was impenetrable, and any sigil I drew would wash off in seconds. Not that I knew any to spark a magical headlamp to pierce the gloom or how to create an oxygenated bubble to wear like an antique diving helmet.
Magic had hard limits, and this situation exceeded mine. There was nothing to do but search for him the old-fashioned way.
Gulping air, I dove in the spot where Hood hit the water.
Down, down, down.
Bubbles swirled around me, but I sensed no displaced water to indicate he was flailing too.
About to surface for another breath, I yelped when a broad hand clamped over my wrist, and I expelled my precious oxygen. I would have kicked the groping fingers in their owner’s face if the tickle of soft dreads hadn’t brushed my calf like seeking tentacles.
Hood.
I reached back for him, clutching his forearms, and started kicking for all I was worth. He was dead weight, a lot of it, and demo work had built only so much muscle on my lean frame.
The blackness sucked me down, reminding me of the cold, wet cell where I wasted for five long years.
I was not going to die in the dark.
I was going to live.
And so was Hood.
Gritting my teeth, I released him with one hand to claw at the water, raking it with my nails as I climbed toward the surface. Head bursting free, I filled my stinging lungs while hefting him up my body, dunking myself again in the process.
Despite the wash of night air over our damp skin, Hood didn’t suck in a breath or so much as twitch.
Yanking on his shoulders, I got him floating on his back. An arrow protruded from his chest, and a second one pierced his gut. Both wounds wept into the freshwater.
“You are way too heavy for this,” I grunted, linking an arm across his chest as I began paddling for shore.
Hauling him out of the water wasn’t going to happen solo, and he was in no position to help. The best I could hope for was that Cletus had been monitoring me from the shore and called for backup. The archer would be tracking our progress, I was sure, and I was in no shape to outmaneuver him if he got close enough to take more potshots at us.
The arrows must have been tipped in poison or forged in metal that incapacitated gwyllgi. Two piddly arrows weren’t enough to knock Hood out of the game otherwise.
A cry went up behind us when Marit discovered my torn skirt on the deck. She must have come looking when we didn’t return. A grimace twisted my lips at what she must be thinking. Goddess. I had just promised her not to do something stupid about my broken heart. We didn’t know each other well, but I hoped she wouldn’t jump to the wrong conclusion. Or worse—worry that I had.
All I needed was another entry into my police record. Avoiding Detective Russo was tough enough without giving her a fresh reason to look my way.
At least the night would camouflage our location unless they broke out a searchlight.
Arms and legs on fire, I kept grabbing for the shore while holding Hood’s face above the water. Time becomes elastic when a friend is bleeding in your wake, and my muscles were ready to snap. I swore to Hecate that if we survived, I would eat fewer churros and lift more weights.
When a slim figure skidded onto the dock, his dark-auburn hair kissed by moonlight, I could have wept.
Linus shucked his dress shirt, kicked off his shoes, and dove. His perfect form reflected on long-ago summer lessons. Swimming was the one area where my talent exceeded his thanks to my time spent in the ocean under Odette’s supervision.
The fight drained out of me then, and I reclined on my back, clutching Hood to me.
Within seconds, Linus bellied up to us. “Are you all right?”
“Hood’s been shot.” I panted through a stitch in my side. “Twice. With arrows. Arrows. Who does that?”
Ancient vampires using ancient weapons from their ancient past, that’s who.
“That’s not what I asked.” Gathering Hood against him, he kept his gaze locked with mine. “Are you all right?”
“Tired.” Already I breathed easier. “But good.”