Chapter Nine

Days at sea blended together. Except for our brief stop in Malta, the routine was the same: meals, patients, and little sleep. Will and I had not yet decided how to retrieve the icon, though we'd come to the conclusion that we'd best wait until the trip was nearly over to give the priest less time to retaliate.

The only other constant was the somnolent patients, those found in their beds unable to be roused. At least once a day, friends or family would come to my door, begging for help. I did little. The strong scent of ammonia in my vial of sal volatile did the work for me.

None of them had been marked by the vampire, but who else could it have been?

The night after we'd left Malta, I'd only been asleep for an hour when something woke me. Not a noise, at least not one I could recall, but a presence. The feeling of being watched. I rolled over on my narrow bunk to find Aharon Davies staring at me from the foot of my bed.

"What the hell?" I'd taken to sleeping with a stake under my pillow, to be ready for just such an occasion, and I lurched to my feet, weapon in hand.

He backed away so fast it was as if he'd disappeared. I followed more slowly, to find him lounging against my desk, hands behind his back, one leg crossed over the other.

"Sorry to disturb you," he said, though his grin made a lie of that statement. "I have the strangest sense that we need to talk."

"About what?" My rudeness was accentuated by my state of undress. I wore only a shirt and a pair of worn-out trousers, my shirttails hanging free, my feet bare. The moon cast some weak light through the small porthole, enough for me to make out his pale features and glinting smile.

He shifted his weight, and for a moment I thought he might approach me. I raised the stake, gratified when his gaze followed the motion of my hand. Yes, the stake was meant as a defense, but it also prevented me from having what I really wanted: This creature of evil spread out before me in my bed.

Since my visit to Fr. Dominic's rooms, the vampire had been there every night in my dreams.

I shivered with remembered pleasure even as disgust weighted me down. "Answer me," I demanded desperately. "You must have had a reason for coming here."

He straightened, and for the briefest moment his smile faded. "I came to offer you a deal."

"A what? Why? Are you having trouble hiding your victims? I find enough of them."

That did wipe the smile from his face. "What are you talking about? I barely take a mouthful."

"So you admit you've been"—I swallowed hard against the noxious mix of disgust and desire roiling in my belly—"tormenting people with your depraved habits?"

He seemed to wilt, which should have made me feel better.

It did not.

"I swear on everything holy, I only approach healthy men, and then only for a small sip." He grimaced. "They laugh as they leave me, if you must know."

Laughter? A new emotion, something akin to jealousy, joined the mix. "You're telling me you did not feed from Madame Barbier and leave her in a swoon? Or a young boy? Or any of the other patients I've been called to see?"

"What are you saying? No, of course not. I would no more feed from an old lady or a child than I would from one of the rats that are the real crew of this godforsaken boat."

"I don't believe you."

He shrugged, either despondent or an excellent actor. "That's too bad. I was hoping we could help each other." Between one heartbeat and the next, he went from the desk to the doorway, startling me so I almost dropped the stake.

"How could we possibly accomplish that?" I sneered the words, more disturbed by his apparent distress than I was willing to admit. Because since my lone attempt at thievery, I'd come very close to admitting, to myself at least, that I needed help. And this man, this creature, both attracted and repelled me.

He paused at the doorway, his grin in place, but sardonic rather than humored. "You could start by putting the stake down."

I looked at it and at him. Did I dare? Apparently yes, because moving slowly, I opened the desk's only drawer and shut my weapon away. "Now." I shoved the chair closer to him while I took a seat on the foot of my bed. "Tell me why you think you can help me."

He turned the chair and straddled it backward, crossing his arms and leaning against it. "You might not believe this, but at the end of this voyage, the priest intends to do away with me. You didn't sneak into his rooms for the fun of it, so here's my offer. I'll help you find what you were looking for if you help me escape when this is over."

"No." The refusal came unconsciously, though before he could respond, I raised a hand. "Wait." Breathing hard, I made a serious attempt at weighing his offer. I wasn't truly a thief. Could I trust him to retrieve the icon? And further, "Why would you trust me to honor our deal? Assuming you retrieve the thing that I seek, how do you know I won't leave you to your fate?"

"Because…" Something in his gaze lightened. "You're an honorable man."

"You know that by looking at me?"

His laugh held a note of bitterness. "I don't know why or how, but I believe you are honest. Besides…" He rose from the chair, moving in my direction.

The small room grew smaller still. It took him just a few steps to reach me, but those few steps demonstrated grace and strength. Mesmerized, I could not look away.

"Besides, if I suffer my final death, you'll never know what my prick tastes like."

I inhaled sharply, the flames of embarrassment dousing me. "I don't…"

"Yes, you do." His whisper was as potent as shouting the words. "Something happened the other night. I feel drawn to you in a damned uncomfortable way. You have to feel it, too. You must."

Did I? "You're wrong."

His brows rose, his expression mocking me. "Am I?"

I couldn't answer, too busy fighting the surge of heat that bloomed in my belly, hardening my cock.

"My first thought on rising is to wonder what your lips taste like." He leaned toward me while I sat frozen, caught in his gaze the way a snake can trap a mouse. "Are they as soft as they look?" He reached out slowly, his eyes gone heavy.

I could have ducked out of his way, blocked his hand, risen to my feet to face him man to man. Instead, I sat as still as stone. He traced my lower lip with his thumb, his smile warm. Yet in the warmth of that smile, he revealed the barest hint of fang.

"No." My refusal came out on a moan.

He leaned closer still. "Yes, habibi . You lie when you say you do not feel as I do. Some spell has claimed us both, and neither of us will rest until we…"

His voice trailed off. "Until we what?" I gasped the words.

With the gentlest of pressure, he parted my lips and slid his thumb between them. My tongue came forward on its own, seeking him. We—my tongue and I—drew his thumb deeper so I could suckle it. His flesh was cool and he tasted clean. My rational mind shouted no, but my hands reached for his coat. Over my minds objections, I pulled him closer.

"Until we fuck," he said, truly the voice of a demon.

His use of that crude word acted like a blast of wind, clearing my head. I lurched sideways and rolled off the bunk to stand a foot or so away from him. My breath coming in short gasps, I couldn't speak. All I could do was wish for my stake.

"Calm yourself." Any hint of warmth had left his expression. "Your words may say one thing, but your body says another."

My cock gave a throb and it took an effort of will not to adjust myself.

"I'll give you a day to think about it, Doctor. Your treasure for my life."

With that, he left. One heartbeat, he stood next to me, and the next he was gone. I collapsed onto the bed, still heaving. What had just happened? There was no way I could bargain with such a demon. I'd spent years atoning for my youthful folly.

I should never have let Randall talk me into this godforsaken excursion. While my rational mind understood why the icon of the Black Madonna was important, the cost of retrieving it was mounting and might already be too high.

The ghostly memory of Aharon's touch slipped over my lip. If my prick were any harder, it would tear through my trousers. I palmed it, willing it to subside, but instead I rutted against the flat of my hand.

"No." I gasped the word, but I could no more have stopped thrusting than I could have flown to the moon. Giving in to the inevitable, I loosened my falls and grasped myself, now thrusting in earnest.

It didn't take long.

Pleasure wracked me, and at my moment of crisis, I swear somewhere Aharon Davies smiled.

Collapsing on the bed, evidence of my arousal staining my shirt, I gave in for just a moment. What if he lay beside me? He wasn't any older than I, his body fit and strong. I'd never lain with a man, and while this bunk was narrow, we'd fit if we were on our sides. I wondered if he was cool all over or if the magic that enlivened him warmed his central core. From there, I wondered how it would feel to have his cool prick in my mouth, or in…

"Enough." I sat and wrenched off my shirt. I needed sleep. The vampire had given me twenty-four hours to consider his offer, but I had no need for more time. I'd go after the icon myself and leave him to his fate.

That clarity lasted until Will pounded on my door in the morning. "St John? Are you in there?"

My feet hit the floor before my eyes truly opened. Crossing the room, I flung open the door, all but dragging him in. He stumbled, bracing himself with a hand on my chest. His eyes widened and he took a quick step away when he realized I wore only trousers.

"You're still in bed?"

"Wait." I whirled around to the tiny cupboard where I'd hung my banyan. Wrapping myself in it, I returned to face Will.

"I'm sorry. I must have overslept."

His cheeks were still flame red and he had to clear his throat before he could speak. "I came by before breakfast, but you didn't respond to my knock. Are you feeling well?"

"Well enough. I suppose I've missed the meal entirely?"

"You will have by the time you're dressed."

I ran my knuckles over my unshaved chin. "Let me get cleaned up. Is anyone in need of my services?"

Will retreated, stopping in the doorway. "Not as far as I know. I'll, uh, get you some water."

With that, he disappeared, and by the time he returned, I'd made myself as decent as possible. He brought a pail of water and some soap, and while I washed and shaved, I pondered our next steps. Logic said I should tell him about the vampire's offer.

Shame begged to differ.

Logic won.

"He was here. Last night." I had to look at the floor or I'd give myself away. The situation was too serious for me to let my confusion show.

"Who?"

I flicked a glance in Will's direction. "The vampire." Who had a hold on me unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

"Are you…hurt?" His gaze pierced me.

"No. He did not bite." Though I might yet allow him to . I squashed that thought as quickly as it came.

I had been attracted to men in the past, but never had they made a mockery of my self-control. Aharon Davies had a sadness about him that was only just concealed by his sardonic exterior. There were layers to him that begged exploration.

But not by you, St John .

Will cleared his throat, interrupting my internal wrestling. "If he didn't come here to…feed, then what did he want?"

Drying my face with a towel, I pushed the room's only chair in Will's direction and gestured at him to sit. I took a moment to fold the towel, using the time to decide how best to explain things.

The direct route is usually the best.

"He offered me a deal."

"Oh?" Will larded that word with a heavy dose of suspicion.

I met his gaze squarely. "He said that he'd help me steal the icon if I helped him escape the priest when our journey is over."

Will folded his arms, his expression sober as he considered my words. "You agreed, didn't you?"

Caught off guard, I could only stare at him. "You would have me make a deal with that devil?"

Will leaned forward, bracing himself with his elbows on his knees. "I would have us secure the icon and return it to Alexandria, and I don't think we can afford to be too squeamish about working with any ally."

"But a vampire…?" Hadn't Randall told his young associate about our previous encounter? "How do we know we can trust him?"

"We don't, but we've been on this tub for a week, which means we've only got a little over a week left. If he has access to the priest's rooms, we'd be foolish not to work with him."

"Certainly," I said, feeling anything but certain. "We can seek him out after sunset."

Before Will could answer, someone knocked on my door, and soon I was knee-deep in passengers who shared an unfortunate gastrointestinal complaint. Seven people were affected, across ages and from first class, second class, and crew. I had the cooks on the run boiling weak tea and gruel and was so distracted by the day that I barely noticed the passage of time. Only when Will suggested we ask a steward to find us dinner did I realize the twenty-four hours Davies had given me were almost up.

Soon it would be time to bring a vampire into our plans.

The thought gave me something akin to relief.