Kissed by Ice (6 page)

I didn't know how Eddie had done it, but in under an hour, he'd come up with costumes for both of us. Unfortunately, mine was an utter fail as far as I was concerned. While Kabita's costume consisted of skin tight pants, boots, and an aviator jacket—not much different from her usual clothing—mine had so many layers of bustles and petticoats and whatnot, I was half afraid I would trip and fall on my face. As if that weren't bad enough, I had to wear a full corset over a thin, silky blouse. It looked great, but I could hardly breathe, never mind move.

"This is ridiculous. I can't wear this." Every time I took a step, my skirts made a rustling sound loud enough to wake the dead.

"We're not hunting, Morgan. We're dancing." Kabita shot me a smug grin. "Now come on before we miss the ball." She grabbed me by the hand and dragged me, protesting, from the room.

"Ah, there you are. My, don't you ladies look lovely." Eddie beamed at us. He was dressed every inch the Victorian gentleman, right down to his cravat and waistcoat. Except attached to his top hat was a pair of brass goggles, and the left side of his face was decorated with a series of little metal gears. He held out his arms to both of us, which we took, and escorted us to the elevators. "Oh, this is going to be a wonderful evening. Don't you think?"

I gave him a wide, fake smile while muttering curse words in my mind. If I didn't pass out from lack of oxygen, it would be a miracle.

I had to give the organizers props. The ballroom was amazing. Swaths of fabric draped the ceiling and walls, hiding the modern fixtures from view. From the ceiling hung giant, softly glowing orbs. I had no idea how they'd done it, but it looked amazing. Magical, even. The pillars had been turned into giant steam-work pipes swathed in fairy lights. A table lit with candelabra groaned under the weight of platters of food and a bizarre brass urn that seemed to be dispensing something alcoholic. It was like something out of the Mad Hatter's tea party. A mini zeppelin whizzed about the crowd, bumping into the occasional reveler. The bumpee would laugh and grab something from the basket dangling beneath the zeppelin before it whizzed off again.

"Eddie!" A woman emerged from the crowd, arms outstretched and face wreathed in smiles.

"Now that's an outfit I could work with," I muttered to Kabita as Eddie hugged the newcomer.

The woman was not much older than me. Her long hair was almost as red as mine, but while mine came from a bottle, hers was clearly natural. Where my eyes were green, hers were gray, but we both had the pale skin that spoke of Celtic ancestry. And the curves, all of which were easy to see, thanks to her outfit.

She was dressed like something out of a Jane Austen novel, with one of those sheer cotton gowns with the high waists and tiny puff sleeves. The stays, which should have been underneath the dress, were on the outside, boosting up her ample assets like they were being offered to the world on a platter. The stays, instead of being a simple white, were made of rich blue velvet trimmed in silver. She wore simple ballet flats, and her hair was done in an elaborate Grecian style, decorated with a tiara, only instead of the expected diamonds or pearls, it was made of tiny brass gears surrounding an actual clock. Frankly, it was awesome. And a whole lot more practical for a vampire hunter. I had to remind myself I wasn't on the Hunt. I was supposed to be having fun.

"Emory," Eddie cried with delight. "You are looking lovely, as usual. Please, allow me to introduce my friends, Morgan Bailey and Kabita Jones. Ladies, this is my dear friend, Emory Chastain. She also lives in Portland."

"Lovely to meet you," Emory said with a wide, genuine smile as she shook our hands. "Any friend of Eddie's is good people."

As her hand touched mine, I felt an odd zing, almost like static electricity. The powers inside me stirred. How strange. I plastered on a fake smile, hiding my suddenly whirling mind. I was pretty sure the woman had magic, and a lot of it.

The live band struck up a tune and Emory clapped her hands. "Oh, this is my song. Gotta dance. See you guys later." And she disappeared into the crowd, gossamer skirts swirling like fairy wings. If fairies had wings, which, believe me, they didn't. I'd met the Queen of the Sidhe more times than I cared to remember. She definitely did not have wings.

We helped ourselves to glasses of spiked punch and stood back to watch the action on the ballroom floor. I had to admit, it looked like a lot of fun. The music was great. The band, dressed in kilts and top hats, rocked out on stage while the dancers made a colorful splash of movement below. I couldn't help tapping my foot to the rhythm. I finally started to relax a little.

And then the screaming started.

Chapter Six

For a split second, everything went dead quiet. The band stopped playing. People stopped dancing. I'm not even sure anyone was breathing. Then more screams rang out, and people started running. Next thing I knew, there was a stampede toward the doors.

"What the bloody hell?" Kabita shouted over the noise. She rarely swore, but the circumstances definitely called for it.

I started toward the spot where I'd first heard the screaming, only to be nearly bowled over by a man carrying an enormous gun. Probably not a real one since the thing was bigger than he was and I could make out orange plastic beneath the black paint job.

Emory pushed her way out of the crowd, eyes wide and her once white dress splattered with blood. "Eddie, come quickly." She grabbed his hand and disappeared back into the mob. Kabita and I plunged in after them, then stumbled to a halt next to Eddie and Emory.

In the middle of the ballroom floor laid the crumpled form of a woman. Her dark hair was spread out around her like a cloud, her skin icy pale. Her Victorian gown was a dark crimson touched here and there with a bit of black lace. I would have assumed she'd merely fainted except for the gaping wound at her throat and the pool of bright red blood beneath her, spreading across the hardwood floor. I could make out footprints and smears where people had skidded in the slick blood.

"What the hell happened?" I asked, staring at the body. I had a bad feeling I already knew. I knelt to take her pulse. Definitely dead. Another person in close proximity to Eddie had been killed by a vampire. The pattern was falling into place.

"Eddie," Emory's voice was barely above a whisper. "I was standing right next to her. I saw what happened. It was…." She glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening. "A vampire." She whispered the last word.

I glanced at her, startled. She knew about vampires. How? And what else did she know?

"Yes, my dear." Eddie patted Emory's hand. "That much is obvious. Why don't you run and fetch the head of security."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Kabita asked.

"I'm afraid there's no hiding it this time," Eddie said with a sigh. "Although how we shall explain this, I do not know."

"Why do we have to explain it?" I asked. "It's not like we were anywhere near the body."

"With so many eye witnesses, it's best we come up with something rather than let speculation run wild," Eddie said.

I stood up and moved closer to Emory. "Did you see the vampire?" I asked her.

She looked a little surprised. "I…ah… that is…"

"Don't worry. Morgan is a Hunter," Eddie said.

That seemed to give her relief, though I was surprised he told her. Clearly she was in the know about things supernatural. Very interesting. "Well, then, yes, I did. Clear as day. I didn't realize what he was, at first. When I saw those red, glowing eyes, I thought he was a demon."

Kabita and I glanced at each other. Soul vamp.

"He just walked up to her," Emory continued. "Grabbed her and sank his teeth into her throat right in front of everybody."

"Everything will be all right," Eddie said, patting her hand again. "Now go. Quick as you can."

With a nod, she took off running, gold slippers making a light tapping sound on the floor.

"Wonderful. Now everyone knows there's a vamp on board. We're going to have to make up a damn good cover story." Kabita scowled. Although she appeared fairly calm, her use of the simple cuss word made it clear she was anything but.

"Easy enough," Eddie murmured. "We're a theatrical lot, we steampunk enthusiasts. Perhaps we can come up with something creative and convincing. A theatrical entertainment, perhaps."

"Can we fool security, too?" I asked. "Better they don't know the truth."

"I think it's too late," Eddie murmured, nodding toward the ballroom door. I glanced over to see a man in a white uniform striding toward us, a couple of beefy guys trotting along behind him. Emory wasn't with them.

He was halfway across the floor when he stopped, turned to his men, and spoke in a low voice even I couldn't hear. The men seemed a little confused, but with shrugs went to guard the ballroom doors. The uniformed man continued toward us, his long strides eating up the floor.

He was ridiculously tall. Six foot six, I'd guess, or taller. Broad shouldered, long-limbed, and with cheekbones that could cut ice. The wheat blond hair and pale blue eyes spoke of Nordic decent, and he wore an air of authority as easily as I wore a machete. Definitely head of security.

"Mr. Mulligan," he said with a nod.

"Mr. Magnussen." Eddie nodded back.

They seemed to know each other. Interesting.

"I don't suppose I could ask you and your friends to wait outside." Magnussen had quite possibly the best poker face I'd ever seen. I couldn't quite place his faint accent.

Eddie gave him a tight smile. "I suppose you are correct. Where is Miss Chastain?"

"She was covered in evidence. I sent her to her stateroom, along with one of my female officers so she might change her clothing."

"Evidence," Eddie said tightly. "You mean blood."

Magnussen nodded and knelt beside the body. He didn't touch, simply looked. "Has anyone touched the body?"

"I did," I said, stepping forward. "Only to check her pulse and make sure she was dead." Although, of course, I'd known the moment I'd looked at her. In my line of work, you get real friendly with death. "Other than that, none of us has touched her, although what happened before we got here, I have no idea. People were running and screaming and freaking the hell out." Not that I could blame them. It must have been quite a shock watching someone rip someone else's throat out with their teeth.

"I don't think I need to roll out a major investigation. It's clear what happened here." Magnussen stood up.

"It is?" I couldn't help the surprise in my voice. I mean, of course it was clear to the rest of us, but what exactly did he think happened?

"Of course," he said, looking at each of us in turn, eyes cold and serious. "I think you have some vampire hunting to do, Miss Bailey."

# # #

"How the hell does he know what I am?" I hissed at Eddie as we hurried down the hallway toward the storage room
cum
command center.

"I will tell you in a moment," Eddie replied, pulling me behind him, Kabita striding along in our wake.

While Kabita and I had stared at the head of security in shock, he and Eddie quickly plotted a cover story to explain the latest death. They'd come up with bath salts. Not the kind you put in your water for a nice soak, but the highly illegal drug kind. It made total sense, as bath salts did crazy ass things to people. Like the guy in Florida who'd literally ripped another guy's face off with his teeth. Combine drugs with a steampunk ball, and presto chango, you've got a strung-out killer who thinks he's a vampire. Perfect cover story for the local police. After they'd settled on the story, Magnussen and his men had taken over and we were dismissed with a promise that Magnussen would meet with me later. Oh, goodie.

It would be much later, if I had my way. The guy made me strangely nervous.

Once we were inside the storage room with the door shut behind us, I whirled on Eddie. "Okay, spill. How does Magnussen know who I am? For that matter, how does he know about vamps? And what about the other bodies? Does he know about those, too?"

"No, no. He doesn't know about the other bodies. I felt it best not to, ah, alert anyone. Unfortunately, we will probably have to tell him now."

"Okay, so the Hunter stuff? How does he know?"

"Magnussen once worked for the
Underrättelsekontoret.
The Swedish Intelligence. Much like our own CIA. For a branch similar to the SRA."

I blinked. "He was in supernatural intelligence?" That was a turn of events I hadn't expected.

"More than that." Eddie licked his lips. "Haakon Airik Magnussen is a Sunwalker."

Chapter Seven

"I'm sorry," I said. "Can you run that through the ringer again?"

"He said Magnussen is a Sunwalker," Kabita snapped. She turned to Eddie. "What the hell is he doing working head of security on a cruise ship?"

Eddie shrugged. "Who knows? Could be he still works for the
Underrättelsekontoret
and he's here undercover. Or maybe he just wanted a change of scenery."

"How old is he?" I asked.

They both stared at me. "I don't see how that is relevant," Eddie said. "But he is quite old. He was a Viking."

"A real one?"

"Well, of course. What did you think I meant? The sports team? I believe he was a friend of Erik the Red or some such. How much older he is than that, I do not know." Eddie began shuffling through the piles of documents on the table. I wasn't sure if he was actually looking for something, or trying to avoid further questions.

"And you managed to research all this?" Kabita asked, eyes narrowed. "How exactly? You can't find that stuff on the internet." She leaned one hip against the table and crossed her arms. The glare she shot Eddie was enough to make a strong man quail.

Eddie seemed to pale a little, but quail he did not. "I have been around the block once or twice, you know. I have my ways. Now, ladies, we have bigger fish to fry than Haakon Magnussen. There is yet another vampire aboard this vessel, and we must find and stop it before it kills anyone else."