Chapter 16
Sixteen
The sky had lightened from a cloudy black to a rich indigo when at last Noah came to find them. He stood in front of the suit so Cally could see him through her narrow window.
“Ryan’s asking for you to fine-tune our course. We must be getting close.”
“Yeah, sure.” Cally took the excuse to stretch, easing her back as much as the suit would allow, and focused on the bond. “We’re a bit off, not too bad. About ten degrees to the right.”
“Starboard,” Brent said from behind her.
“Ten degrees to the right, got it.” Noah grinned and turned to shout at the cabin. “Ten degrees right, Ryan!”
“Landlubbers,” muttered Brent.
“Do we need to let Gabe know?”
Noah looked past her, off their stern, to where Gabe’s yacht followed in their wake. “No, he can see us.” He pushed his face up to her visor and peered inside. “How’s it going?”
“It’s okay. Brent’s been great,” she said, speaking up so Noah could hear her through the helmet. “But so far it’s all theory. I can’t get a feel for the controls until we’re in the water.” And then it’s real.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He leaned to the side to look past her. “Let’s get her out, Brent. She needs a break before you both go down.”
Extricating herself was less graceful than getting in, even with both of them helping, but it was worth it just to be able to move freely again.
She’d lost track of time, but hours had passed as Brent walked her through everything repeatedly.
Over and over. She smiled at the thought. Not long now, Antoine.
“How much farther?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Noah gestured at the waves surrounding them. “This area all looks the same to me.”
She gave him a flat look.
He grinned. “I think we must be nearly there. It took three hours from Boston and WHOI is a way south, but we’ve been traveling almost five.”
At least Noah’s in a good mood. He was almost as keen as she was to have Antoine back.
She followed him into the relative warmth of the cabin, standing near the heater to work the chill from her bones.
Zoey seemed to be asleep with her head resting on her arms on the table, but she looked up and gave her a nod before settling down again.
Brent stood near the door, arms folded. Amir, another of Gabe’s thralls, sat at the table opposite Zoey.
“Bearing okay?” Ryan asked.
She checked the bond. “Yeah, still fine.”
There was nothing to do but wait, and not for the first time she wished she could use the connection to talk to Antoine.
Cally was looking at Noah when it happened. His eyes took on a distant look, and his face went slack. Then he screamed, primal and laced with desperation, the sound of it making her skin crawl. She took a pace toward him as he dropped to his knees and screamed again, clutching at his head.
Ryan reacted fast, pulling a gun from his belt and pointing it at Noah.
“No!” Cally cried, but she was too far away to stop him. Brent was closest, but he didn’t interfere. Amir didn’t move, just letting it happen.
A soft thwip sounded, and a dart embedded itself in Noah’s chest, topped with a tuft of red feathers. His next scream was weaker, yet still raw. Ryan reloaded, calm and composed, and fired once more. The second dart struck beside the first, and Noah whimpered, still clutching his head.
Again Ryan reloaded, but when the weapon came up, it was pointed at Zoey, his expression grim but focused, his hand rock-steady.
Zoey sat frozen, staring at Noah, as stunned as Cally. Noah keeled over, slumping to the floor on his side.
The silence held.
“What the fuck, Ryan?” Cally found her voice, rushing to Noah and pressing her fingers into the side of his neck. A faint pulse throbbed beneath her touch. “Have you gone insane?”
“He’s not the insane one,” Zoey said grimly. “It’s Antoine.”
“What?”
“If I had to guess,” Ryan drawled, “I’d say Noah just received a contradictory or impossible compulsion. From that reaction, maybe more than one.”
“Antoine’s feral, Cally,” Zoey said, her tone flat. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
Cally closed her eyes in pain. “I get it. He didn’t mean to, he just… But why Noah? Why not Zoey too?”
“Don’t know,” Ryan said. “Best guess? He’s fixating on him for some reason. Noah’s his number one, right?” He engaged the safety and pushed the tranq gun back into his belt. “I think the danger has passed, but don’t try mind linking to him, Zoey.”
“Not planning to. I’m not stupid.” She sniffed. “At least it means we’re getting close.”
Ryan turned to take back the wheel from Brent, who’d stepped in.
Cally checked Noah again; he was heavily sedated, but breathing regularly. “Will he be all right?”
“He should be, if Antoine stops,” Zoey replied. “Or we get him out of range.”
“What was in that thing?”
“Veterinary tranquilizer mixed with a potent opioid,” Ryan answered with his back to them. “Enough to take down an elephant.”
“How long will it last?” Zoey asked, sliding off the bench to come and check on Noah.
“No idea,” Ryan said. “A while. It wasn’t intended for a thrall.”
“Shit,” Zoey said. “You used a tranq designed for Antoine on Noah?”
Ryan grunted dismissively. “It seemed better than the alternative.”
“You could’ve killed him!” Cally protested.
“Nah. He’s a thrall, not a human. Problem is, I now only have one dart left, and that won’t be enough.”
“For Antoine you mean?” Cally said. “You won’t need it. I’ll help him.”
Ryan turned, his eyes narrowed. “Do you know what happens when a vampire goes feral?”
Cally would never forget what Belle had told her, hearing her voice in her head as though she were standing with them in the cabin.
“He hunts whatever is closest, in the hope it will sate his craving. This is dangerous, as such a vampire hunts without caution. In Antoine’s case, when it is not enough, he will hunt again. And again. Can you imagine what would happen?”
“Yes. I know.”
“Well, then. You’ll know you can’t help him.”
“There’s no one else.” That can. But she left it unsaid.
Zoey caught her eye and looked away.
“I know you bear his mark,” Ryan said, “but trust me when I tell you to stay out of it. With Antoine feral, he won’t feed. He’ll destroy.”
“It’s my problem to solve.”
“Gabe’s already sorted it.”
Cally stared at his back. “What?”
“He brought food,” Ryan said indifferently, still not turning around as he steered the boat.
“What?”
“Come on, Cally. You know what vampires eat. Antoine won’t be Antoine until he’s fed. Just let Gabe handle it.”
She rocked to her heels and pushed herself up, striding across the cabin to grab Ryan’s arm. “You tell Gabe that any food he’s brought is to be kept unharmed, unaware, and released as soon as we get back to Boston.”
He shrugged her hand off. “Don’t be na?ve.”
“I mean it, Ryan. You link with Gabe and tell him right now.”
He sighed. “Okay, I’ve told him. Now you need to focus on you and get ready for this descent.”
“What did Gabe say?”
Ryan gave her a fleeting look, then faced forward again. “He didn’t bother to reply.”
“Damn it, Ryan—”
“He’s right, Cally,” Zoey said gently. “You know he is.”
Cally shook her head. “Let’s get Antoine back, then we’ll figure this out. But I’m deadly serious—you keep any other chattel away from him.”
“You’ll change your mind when you see him,” Ryan muttered.
“The hell I will.”
*
“Chest seals tight. Arm sleeves secure.” Brent finished checking her straps and leaned back. “I’m going to seal you in.”
“All right.”
“You’ll be waiting a while. I need to get into my own suit and there’s only one crane.”
“Yeah, you said. I’ll be fine.”
“It’ll be claustrophobic, and—”
“Brent. I’ll be fine. Let’s get going, okay?”
He nodded. “Then take the time to run through your checks.”
“Sure.”
Cally braced as he swung the rear hatch closed. The latches locked into place with finality, and she swallowed hard. The only way they’d ever be opened again was if she survived this trip.
One hiss, then another, and the seals engaged. A light flicked green, showing the suit was pressurized, and her breathing echoed in the helmet.
She forced herself to calm. Entombed by choice. Lovely.
But the thought boosted her determination. Even now, Antoine waited below, suffering in his own hell. Two weeks and five days trapped in that watery grave, unable to move, to even breathe. Alive… barely.
She clenched her jaw. This would work. This had to work.
Not for the first time, she wondered if insanity had granted him any peace, or made his hell even worse. What must it be like to crave blood so much that its absence breaks a mind? Would he ever fully recover?
No. I can’t accept that. Antoine is strong.
He had to recover.
And Gabe and Ryan were mistaken. Cally would find a way of feeding him back to health without him destroying some helpless victim in the process.
Somehow.
The whir of the bow-mounted crane pulled her from her thoughts, though with the limited visibility of her helmet, she could see little of what was happening.
It was like having half a goldfish bowl strapped to her head, with no way of seeing past the sides.
The suit pressed in, and she couldn’t move her arms or legs.
Besides, Brent had warned her not to try.
The crane whirred again, lifting then turning, its boom extending out over the side of the boat.
Brent going in.
It was time. Or it would be soon.
Cally felt the sudden urge to pee, even though she’d gone only a few minutes before.
Just nerves. She hoped. Until they came back up, there’d be no way to relieve herself. The least of my problems.
Ryan appeared before her. “Ready?” he called, his voice muffled.
“Ready!” she yelled back.
“Fuck, Cally!” Brent’s voice came through their radio with a tinny edge, his exasperation carrying clearly. “You just deafened me.”
She winced. He had told her the mic was open by default, and she’d forgotten. “Sorry.”
Vibrations through the suit as they did something outside, a clang of metal on metal, then she felt herself lifted into the air. Her stomach tensed. This is it.