18. Learning More
Chapter 18
Learning More
Hawaiian Desire cruise—Moments later
H enry exited the elevator on the eighth floor and found Antonio there with his medical bag in hand. Gesturing for the doctor to follow, he kept walking. “Rolf and I will go in first. Wait in the hall for us.”
“Take this.” Antonio offered a key card. “It’s coded to provide access to all guest rooms in the event of an emergency.”
“Excellent. And if you’d please hold this for us?” Henry gave the handcuff box to Antonio as they reached room eight-twelve. Then he glanced both ways—the hallway was empty—and swiped the white card across the lock and entered, Rolf at his back. The heavy door closed automatically behind them, and they whooshed through the room. The biter was gone. Her victim, however, was passed out on the bed, a sheet thrown over his otherwise naked body.
Henry opened the room’s door. “We need your services.”
Antonio rushed in, handed the box to Henry, and checked the unconscious man’s pulse. Then he removed a blood pressure cuff from his medical bag.
Henry stood silently, watching the doctor work. Would the man be okay? The bite didn’t look bad at all.
When Antonio finished, he packed his gear away, and his posture relaxed. “The victim’s pressure is surprisingly good, as is his pulse. She must not have taken more than a pint.”
“She’s old enough to have control over her hunger, which is why I’m surprised she injured her last victim. I believe she’s around seventy years vampire.”
“If she’s that old, then either something happened to her blood supply, or she didn’t bring any with her.” Antonio frowned. “We always carry an emergency supply in case someone needs a transfusion. I can spare a few pints if we locate her—it’s not a good idea for her to feed onboard. I can avoid reporting the actual cause, but if she injures someone severely, or if the gentlemen complain to the captain, it’s going to arouse suspicions.”
Henry furrowed his brow, seeking words to disagree with the doctor without being argumentative. “I doubt the men will complain. The vampire is a beautiful woman. Have all her other victims been in their forties, like this man?”
“Now that I think of it, yes. They’re all middle-aged, a little overweight or balding.”
“She is picking victims who feel flattered by her attention and would be embarrassed to report her attacks. They may seek medical treatment for the bite, but not one of them has blamed her, correct?”
“Well, yes.”
Henry understood the technique. Back in the 1800s, he’d taken quite a few women in the same way, women who enjoyed feeling special for a night, before he’d grown a conscience about doing so. “In fact, they might not even associate the bite with her. As far as the men would know, they had sex with a beautiful woman, and the wounds she left behind had nothing to do with her. She would mesmerize each victim to forget about being bitten, but leave him with the memory of a very special evening. So I don’t think you’ll see any of these men accusing her of anything.”
Rolf cupped his chin thoughtfully. “Do you have a photo of last night’s injury? Cerissa showed us, and something about it… I think the women misinterpreted what happened.”
Antonio held out his phone.
Henry nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“ Ach , yes,” Rolf replied. “The parallel gouges starting at the puncture wounds—she failed to mesmerize him sufficiently. He woke and pulled away.”
Henry returned the phone to Antonio. “I agree.”
“Okay, that may explain last night’s victim.” Antonio packed his medical kit. “But she’s not healing the bites. The itchy wound is what they complain about most when they come to me for medical care.”
Henry gestured at the sleeping man. “Do you need a donation to heal his bite?”
Before Henry could act, Rolf punctured his thumb against a fang and pressed it to the wound.
The doctor chuckled. “That should work. And when he comes to, orange juice and a sandwich would probably do more for him than any medications I could give him. Except maybe an iron pill.”
“Then we’ll leave.” Henry headed for the door. “We want to be gone before he wakes. He might ask uncomfortable questions about our presence.”
“I can say that the woman reported him ill.” Antonio lifted the desk phone’s receiver. “I’ll order room service and stay until he eats.”
“Very well.” Henry held the door open for Rolf. “If we hear or see anything else, we’ll be in touch.”
He checked his watch. His ten minutes were almost up, and he sent a text to Cerissa. When they returned to Karen’s suite, the ladies were lounging on the suite’s couch watching a movie, and Rolf sprawled on the armchair nearest to Karen. Henry placed the handcuff box on the end table, glad to be rid of the thing.
Cerissa rose and took his hand, running her thumb over his wedding band. “What happened?”
“The victim was fine, but we were too late to catch her.” He gave his wife a light kiss. “Do you want to finish the movie?”
“Not necessary. I’ve seen it before.” Cerissa waved at Karen. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
“You got it, bestie.”
Henry closed the suite’s door behind them and walked past Cerissa’s room. “I’m not ready to return to our room yet. Shall we take a stroll around the upper deck?”
“Uh, sure, Quique.”
He led them to the elevator and punched the eighteenth floor. Once the doors opened, they stepped out onto the deck and strolled arm in arm. The night sky was clear and awash with points of light.
“What’s bothering you?” she asked. “I can feel something through the crystal.”
He let out a long breath. “Aside from Petar’s murder?”
“I didn’t realize the two of you were close.”
“Petar wasn’t just my bookie—we’d been friends for over a century. I loaned him the money he needed to start his casino in Eastvale. He paid back the loan in full. Of course, some of my poor bets let him do so earlier than planned.”
Petar’s death had shocked him, and he’d rushed to the shipboard casino to avoid the sadness and sorrow now weighing him down. He inhaled a deep breath and brushed at his tearing eyes. With the hunt for the rogue over, and the excitement gone, grief sank coldly into his gut over the loss.
His friend was gone. He still couldn’t fathom the hole in this world left by Petar’s absence. Yet if he picked up the phone and punched in Petar’s number, would his old friend be on the other end of the line? They spoke infrequently enough these days that this could just be one of those long gaps between conversations. If he just pretended…
She clasped his arm. “I’m sorry, Henry. Do you want to talk about him?”
“Not right now. Maybe another time.”
“But there’s something else bothering you?”
“There is.” He paused, trying to figure out how to phrase his concerns. “I don’t want to start an argument, but you should not have followed the vampire.”
“We didn’t have much choice. We were torn between getting you or following her. In the end, I thought it might be worthwhile to follow and see what floor she headed to—I was worried about her victim. Though Karen surprised me by jumping on the elevator. I couldn’t exactly pull her off or let her go alone.”
“But going to the victim’s room?”
Cerissa bit her lip. “We were already committed by then. Had you and Rolf not been late, we wouldn’t have followed on our own.”
He grimaced. “That may also be true.”
“Besides, I thought we agreed that you’d refrain from judging my actions.”
“And I thought we had agreed that you wouldn’t rush into danger—even for the good of others.”
Cerissa sighed. “So, we both have things to work on, then.”
He squeezed her hand. “It seems we do.”
“But that’s all right, isn’t it? Changing lifelong habits is a process.”
The cool night breeze ruffled his hair, pulling strands from his ponytail. He thought about what Father Matt had said at their wedding—about how they’d have to be patient with each other. “Agreed.”
“I love you, Henry.”
“And I you, Cerissa.” Stopping by the rail overlooking the ocean, he took her in his arms and pressed his lips gently to hers, holding her close. When the sweet kiss ended, he hugged her tightly and smiled to himself. Even though he’d sworn he wouldn’t ask, curiosity got the better of him. “So what did Karen whisper to you back in the room?”
She giggled. “You mean when Rolf brought out the handcuffs?”
“Yes.”
She turned to face the ocean, a faint blush on her cheeks. “Karen said Abigale thought she should have a set to ‘help’ her with Rolf. Karen brought them along to tease him.”
“I see.” Suspicion rolled through him. He’d been friends with the dominatrix for over a century. “And did Abigale give you a pair?”
“Why would I need a pair? When I have the most loving, patient, restrained, and principled vampire on the Hill as a husband?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“And smart.” She rubbed her palm over his chest. “Did I mention smart?”
He growled at her. “You are not answering my question, are you?”
“Yes, definitely smart. And insightful, too.”
“I see. Just remember, turnabout is fair play.”
She rolled her eyes innocently. “Mr. Patel-Vasquez, I do not know what you’re talking about.”
“Then let me be blunt. If you ever think of using Abigale’s gift, you will find that two can play that game.”
“Oh, I imagine it does take two.”
He groaned.
Then her expression grew more serious. “Why the objection? We’ve played with restraints before.”
“Restraints I can break out of easily. Silver cuffs weaken the wearer to almost mortal levels. I don’t like that feeling.”
“Poor baby. Reduced to being like us mere mortals.”
He gritted his teeth and refused to rise to her teasing.
“So silver handcuffs would be a hard limit for you?”
Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “You must stop reading those books.”
“But they’re so full of fun ideas.” She leaned away from the rail, grinning deviously.
He ran his hands along her ribs. “Then perhaps you should tell me which ideas you find so fun.”
A blush rose on her cheeks, and she turned to face the ocean. “I will… I mean, I do, when I get up the nerve to try them.”
He chuckled and touched a finger under her chin, tilting her head until their gazes connected. “Very good, querida . I will wait for your bravery to show through. We have centuries to experiment and discover every sensual delight you enjoy. And speaking of such delights, it is our honeymoon.” He smiled roguishly at her. “There is something about the salt air…”
She snorted a laugh. “You don’t need any help from the salt air.”
“Indeed, I don’t.” He slipped an arm around her waist and squeezed her close to him again, taking a deep inhale of her neck, a mix of Chanel No. 5 and her sweet, enticing scent. “I just need you.”