The Scarlet Deep
Page 84

“Please,” came a small voice from the ground.
The girl clutching her leg couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen, but her skin was wan and her hair dull. Bites marked her neck and back where Anne could see the skin.
“Please,” she said again. “It is the only thing that helps.”
Anne could hear Brigid banging on the door and screaming, but she knew it would take time to open the door. She was caught in the throes of bloodlust, trapped with Elixired humans.
Chapter Twenty-four
IT WAS ALL THERE IN BLACK-AND-WHITE. Jean had been coordinating the shipping for months, at first straightening out the mess of distribution that Zara had entangled herself in since she started shipping the drug, then expanding the operation, moving ships to lesser-known ports that would be lightly regulated by immortal interests.
Jean, being the organized smuggler that he was, had notes in the ledger on every load, along with abbreviations for what Murphy suspected were human carriers.
It was horrifying.
So many more than Murphy had expected. Dozens of ships had left Varna and Bourgas with cargo. Carriers had left from Constana and Samsun. They had landed in dozens of ports all over the Mediterranean and in the North Sea, showing heavy traffic in the Baltic states. They had not, apparently, been able to dock in Russia.
Carwyn was reading over his shoulder.
“He is dead,” the old vampire said. “If you or Terry do not finish him, then I will.”
“We need to take this to Terry.”
He felt Brigid’s scream before he heard it. The heat rushing toward the room was near overwhelming. He lifted a veil of water to the door a second before she burst in. She sizzled as her burning skin ran through the mist, but it seemed to cool her down.
“Brigid, what in hell—”
“Anne is in a locked room with two Elixired humans!”
Murphy’s stomach dropped to his feet. “No.”
He ran out of the room and down endless flights of stairs, following Brigid’s newest scent trail, the burning-hawthorn smell drawing him toward his mate.
He ran, desperate for her.
No.
He skidded past a sealed door and slowed, walking back to it with careful steps. He listened. He opened his amnis and felt for her, drawing the water to his body as he searched.
There.
He was trying to wrench the door open when he heard Brigid and Carwyn make it to him.
“Help me, Father.” He put his shoulder into it, but not even immortal strength was budging the locked door. “You can break through this,” Murphy said. “I can feel her on the other side.”
“Anne!” Brigid yelled. “We’re coming for you!”
ANNE heard her friend on the other side of the door, heard her mate and her friend, desperately trying to reach her. She closed her eyes and kept pushing the humans back, but they were relentless. Anne didn’t want to hurt them. Or herself.
“Please,” the girl said. “It hurts. But when the monsters bite us, it is better. They’ve been gone and we haven’t slept in so long.”
The boy said, “The water doesn’t satisfy our thirst anymore.”
There were empty cans of food and bottles of water scattered in the corner. How had Zara and Jean drugged them? With the water bottles? Had they boarded the ship infected? Anne focused on the questions racing through her mind and not on the seductive pull of their blood.
“Please,” the girl said again, reaching for her.
Anne grabbed for both their hands, then she pushed her amnis toward them and both humans fell to the ground, forced into a deep sleep.
But their blood still called her, teasing her senses and promising satisfaction she knew was a lie.
“Murphy,” she whispered. “Please.”
Anne didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. Her stomach ached, but she could live with that. Her fangs throbbed, but she’d felt worse.
The haze that had started to fall over her mind, however…
If she lost control of her senses, she didn’t know what she’d do.
She closed her eyes and drew the water in the air around her, bolstering her resistance to the sweet blood the humans had begged her to take from them.
Her mind swam. And Murphy’s shouts grew farther and farther away.
“ANNE!” he yelled, his voice hoarse from it. He kicked the door and felt his foot break with the impact.
Brigid had started trying keys again, desperately flipping from one to the next as Carwyn muttered under his breath and looked around at the ship.
“We have to get in there,” Murphy said.
Unfortunately, Jean’s freighter was spotless, and well-maintained ships didn’t tend to break apart.
Carwyn braced his hands on the door, and Murphy felt the metal tremble, but it held together. Not even the thousand-year-old earth vampire could break the door apart.
Cursing Jean Desmarais, Murphy pressed his hands to the metal again, wishing he could control metal instead of water. What could water do to save his mate? Right now? Nothing.
“Fecking boats,” Brigid said, blood-tinged tears streaming down her face. “Hold on, Anne. Don’t give in.”
Murphy spun at Carwyn. “Are you telling me that in all your time on earth, you’ve never had to break through a ship’s door? Or any other kind of metal? Tell me how to get in there, Carwyn!”
Carwyn glanced at Brigid, and Murphy caught the look.
“What is it?”
“Gio could do it. But he’s much older than Brigid.”