Chapter Twelve

I woke to the sounds of an argument. It took me a moment to remember where I was, and why. Very little daylight came through the single small window; just enough for me to make out the silhouette of the bed above me. Hugh's voice. Good . I was in his rooms, under the bunk where he slept. And right now, he sounded angry.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but I am a medical doctor, and I can assure you with the utmost confidence that I do not have a vampire hiding somewhere in my room." Anger must have brought out his poshest accent, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

"I am sorry, Doctor, but it's the captain's orders. We already have one man dead and we're searching every nook and cranny of the boat to find the culprit."

The logical jump from hiding a vampire to one man dead rapidly sobered me. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but it was safe to assume I didn't want to be found.

"All right," St John said grudgingly. "But be quick about it."

With less effort than it had taken yesterday, I drew shadows around me. Since I couldn't stretch my legs out completely because of the trunk, I hugged my knees, hoping the shadows would conceal me.

"You can see the whole place from here." Hugh again, as snippy as I'd ever heard him. A fine buzz surrounded me, one I was becoming accustomed to whenever I wrapped myself in shadow. In a way, it was comforting.

"I guess I'll be the judge of that."

Whoever St John was dealing with had just as much cheek. Their footsteps came toward the bed, and I forced myself to be as still as possible.

"Why's the trunk over there?" the crewman said and lifted the edge of the blanket. His pale moon face popped into my line of sight, though his expression didn't change. "Seems like you'd be better off with the whole of the trunk under the bed."

"Now you're giving decorating advice as well as searching for a killer." St John drawled the words, either manor born or doing a fine imitation.

"That's enough," the crewman said gruffly. "I guess this place is clear, but you didn't have to be rude about it." His footsteps moved away from the bed. If I'd had to breathe, I would have exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Let me see you to the door."

The man left without responding to Hugh's final comment, though I admit to chuckling.

Hugh's footsteps crossed the floor, and after releasing the shadows, I crawled out from under the bed. We met in the middle of the front room, between his desk and the door. "You look pale," he murmured.

"Vampire." I fought the desire to take him in my arms. Someday, habibi .

But not today.

"I don't know what I would have done if he'd found you."

I couldn't help but take hold of his hand. "He didn't and he won't. Where is Carrington?"

"Will? I believe he's bringing me some dinner. You didn't hear us all day? We must have had twenty-some patients in and out of here." He stepped around me to lean against the desk, still holding my hand.

"Not a word." Though now the dark circles under his eyes made more sense.

"That's a blessing. Some were suffering from the grippe and a couple of crewmen had injuries that needed stitching." He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Honestly, nothing unusual happened until this gentleman demanded I allow him to search my rooms."

"I'm glad he timed his arrival for sunset."

St John squeezed my fingers. "Me too."

We were interrupted by a knock. It was Will, carrying a basket of food for their supper. "The captain would have welcomed you at his table," he said, setting the basket on the desk and opening the lid.

The scent of fried food all but overwhelmed me. "While you eat, I'm going to explore the lower level."

"Why?" Will asked sharply.

St John looked stricken. "You don't need to find another place to hide."

"I know." I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "But today was a close call. I don't want to bring my misfortune down on you."

"None of us are truly safe while we're on this damned boat." St John exchanged a glance with Will. "All right, then. We'll eat, and when you return, we can decide on a final plan."

"I won't be gone long." Without giving them time for more debate, I slipped out of the room. No one was in the hallway—likely most were either having dinner or serving guests—and I had places to visit besides the lower level. I'd fed more from Hugh than I had since becoming this new creature, and it made me feel strong. Confident.

Brave.

The flickering sconces on the walls did more to cast shadows than provide light. I didn't need them anyway. I moved quickly, heading for the stairwell. Peered into the doorway. Two crewmen climbed the stairs single file. I waited, standing absolutely still in a pool of shadow. They passed by as if I did not exist.

I might not have a heartbeat, but I could still feel the flutter of nerves in my belly. To distract myself, I imagined how things could go. If I stole the icon right now, I would need a place to hide it where it couldn't be found. Despite the generosity of Hugh's offer to give me shelter, I couldn't risk getting him in trouble too. I needed to explore every corner of this place without being discovered. Taking the stairs as quickly as I could, I stopped at the bottom.

Stopped and listened.

The grind of the steam engine drowned out almost everything else, and the ship bounced as it plowed through wave after wave. Crates were stacked to the ceiling and strapped in place, though ahead of me toward the prow, it seemed to be more open. Keeping to the shadows, I explored the space.

Nothing. No secret corner where I could hide either the icon or myself.

I headed the other way, toward the stern. On my right, the engine rumbled and hissed, enclosed by walls that didn't reach the ceiling. I didn't bother exploring the area. Fr. Dominic knew I'd used a closet near the engine as a hiding place, so it would be an obvious place to look.

That left the stern, which held a makeshift barnyard. There were three cows, a crate with a clutch of chickens, and a pen holding one pig, though it was big enough for two. Beyond that was an area that had clearly been used for butchering. Blood spattered the wooden walls, along with a mix of feathers and animal dung.

Backing away, I left that area to itself.

Poking around, I found a few closets, though they were all full of tools and whatnot. Nowhere I could hide either myself or stolen goods. It did occur to me, as I opened one door and then the next, that a man who'd spent years running a dress shop might not be the best choice to steal something valuable from someone who was obviously in league with the devil.

Though I was no longer a man.

No longer a man, and not sure what my new self was capable of. Covering myself with shadow and turning into mist had come in handy, but besides telling me I'd need to feed, Gamal had said very little about what I could do.

I knew more about getting a fair price for silk and seducing a man than I did about dealing with demons.

Yet it seemed I was being asked to do that very thing.

Finishing my tour of the lower level, I played my shadow trick to hide from a crewman who jogged down the stairs and went straight to the engine. While he was occupied, I went all the way to the first-class level. I had one more stop to make before returning to Hugh St John.

I meant to visit Fr. Dominic's rooms.

Taking the stairs to the upper deck, I came out into a torrent of rain. No one else was around, and the ship rocked more noticeably, making me wonder how many of the passengers would have trouble keeping their dinner down.

St John might have a busy night.

I scuttled down the hallway, windy rain on one side and flickering sconces on the other. Room thirty-six. Did I dare just let myself in? Taking a quick look around to make sure no one saw me, I pressed an ear against the door.

Someone was in there, speaking words that I'd heard before. Heard, but not understood.

Do you speak Phoenician?

Fr. Dominic, casting one of his evil spells. I found a spot in the shadows between sconces, against the wall where there was some protection from the rain. A flash of lightning turned everything white, nearly blinding me for a moment. Voices came from the direction of the dining room. Guests must be returning to their rooms. Doing my best to wrap myself in shadows, I waited.

A family of four passed me. The youngest, a child of maybe four or five, kept running ahead of his parents, making his sister laugh and his mother scold.

"You will stay with us and walk like a young gentleman."

The children shared a giggling glance, and the youngster took off again. This time he stopped directly in front of me, looking quizzical. This was a helluva time for me to learn that children could see more than their elders.

"Charles Cochrane, get back here."

The stern note in his father's voice brought the child to heel, and the family passed without further comment, while I relegated the incident to memory, something I'd need to sort out later.

Because my tricks were much less effective if children could see through them.

As soon as they were gone, something drew my attention to room thirty-six. Not a sound, but a sense of motion. One of Fr. Dominic's invisible worms came crawling out through the door. It floated in midair, and though I could not see it, it was present.

And it stank of evil.

It carried on down the hall, hunching and stretching the way an inchworm might, ignoring me completely. Alhamdulillah. Praise God, because the thing terrified me.

Despite that, I followed it for a while. Its movements weren't terribly efficient, but it did seem to have a destination in mind. We'd circled most of the upper deck when it stopped in front of a room. The thing twisted its head to look at me, and if I hadn't been so terrified, I'd swear it laughed.

The devilish worm aimed itself at the door of room forty-four—I made a note of it—and inched its way in. I had no idea who was in that room, or what the worm would do to him or her. More people were coming. Dinner must be over. I should pound on the door, demand entrance.

And be discovered, either by one of the crew or the monster itself.

No, I couldn't take that chance. Instead, I ran with all the speed I possessed. I didn't slow down until I stood outside the doctor's room. Without knocking, I let myself in.

Will Carrington had gone, leaving St John alone. He sat at his desk, his logbook open and pen in hand. "What is it?"

"He did it again. Fr. Dominic. He called some demonic…thing. It's invisible, but I know it exists, and it's gone into a guest room."

"An invisible demon has attacked one of the guests?"

I nodded, nearly collapsing from relief that he hadn't laughed outright. "I would have gone after it, but I was afraid of being discovered."

"Good." He closed his logbook, his expression stern. "Good. What was the room number?"

I told him, and he tapped the book cover, lips pressed tight. "I'm not sure if I should go there now or wait till someone calls me."

"They'll call you, all right, if only to examine a dead body."

He stood, nodding as if I'd made the decision for him. "Come with me but stay out of sight."

Nice of him to invite me, but I'd follow whether he wanted me to or not. "Do you have an overcoat?" I gestured to my rain-spattered robes. "It's coming down hard."

He grunted and went to his trunk. Once he was ready, I followed him down the hall, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Only once did I need to wait until a group of people passed, and then I was easily able to find him again. The long skirt of my galabiya flapped as I moved. It might have made more sense for me to be in Western clothing, as I'd stand out if anyone saw me.

So I made sure no one saw me.

We were close to room forty-four when a man came running. He was older, maybe in his fifties, with silver hair and plump hands. "You, sir, aren't you the doctor?"

The distress in his voice brought us up short. I faded into the shadow, while St John addressed him. "I am."

"I'm Benjamin Witherspoon, and my, er, companion has suffered some kind of collapse."

Easing away from them, I'd have bet dollars to buttons that Mr. Benjamin Witherspoon was staying in room forty-four. Dressed as I was, I didn't want to be seen, so I'd simply hover in the hallway and stay out of anyone's way.

"Take me to him," St John said. Tossing a glance my direction, he seemed to understand that I'd stay close. Sure enough, Witherspoon brought Hugh to room forty-four, and after another glance, Hugh followed him in.

Leaving me alone with the storm.