“Where you got all that money hidden, mermaid? In your panties?” He made a grab, as if he was about to make a withdrawal. I fended him off.
“No, idiot. I keep my money in a bank, like every other criminal who isn’t a complete moron. Look, I was on that ship with some of the wealthiest people on earth. I’m not just some casino rat. I know people.”
Josue looked unimpressed. “What people?”
“Cynthia Clark. The movie star?”
Pirates started naming movies with the geeky enthusiasm of film obsessives everywhere. From the breadth of their knowledge, I figured they must have the biggest DVD collection ever somewhere belowdecks. Not that they’d ever paid for any of it, of course.
“Famous friends doesn’t mean you have money. How you expect to pay me?” Captain Josue asked, and spread his hands to show how unencumbered I was by those phantom millions.
“Electronic transfer,” I said. “It’s how business works these days. People don’t carry cash, they carry personal identification numbers and ATM cards.”
He wasn’t convinced. “And how does this help me? Do you see any computers on my ship?”
I gave him a very slow smile. “If you take me where I want to go, I promise you, I’ll fill your ship so full of dollars you won’t be able to sleep without restacking bundles of cash.”
“Then give me your account number and PIN code. I’ll check it out.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t have a computer.”
“That’s not what I said.” He laughed. “You give me the information and I’ll verify that you’re not a lying whore. That seems fair.”
“Sorry. It’s all I have to bargain with. Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
“I was born at night, mermaid. Not last night,” he said. I didn’t like the confidence of his smile. “You show me cash, and then I believe you. Not before. Thiago, take her below.”
The guy who’d copped to being a comic book geek grabbed my arm and hustled me down the narrow space between the wheelhouse and the railing, toward the stern of the boat. “Hey, Thiago?” I asked. “I could use some help here. Talk to your boss, would you?”
“Shut up,” he said. “You won’t like me when I’m angry.”
So much for geek solidarity.
Two hatches later, I was shoved across a rusty threshold and into some kind of ship’s hold. It was nothing like the vast, spacious warehouse of the Grand Paradise; this was a cramped, hot, stinking metal box that gave mute evidence that the ship had once been a fishing vessel.
I swore I’d never eat tuna again.
“Hey!” I yelled, as the hatch banged shut behind me. “You’re really going to regret this!”
And that sounded so stock B-movie that I shut up and found a place to sit and rest my aching head on my aching crossed arms.
The burning torch on my back throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and I could feel it stretching back through the aetheric, a slimy tether that kept pulling on me, trying to drag me to the dark side.
“Keep your shirt on, Bob,” I murmured to the dead fish. “A girl’s got to sleep sometime.”
I curled up in a nest of burlap and old packing material from one of the crates, and fell completely unconscious.
Not a care in the world, strangely enough. Too tired to have one.
When I woke up, my whole body ached less, but that only meant the alert level had gone down from red to orange, damage-wise. No way could I swim far in my current state. I needed the ship if I intended to stay alive.
Well, if I couldn’t buy it, there were other ways. They were as dangerous to me as to the captain, though.
I banged on the hatch until I got attention, and was dragged back up on deck. It was midday, and the sun was dazzling on the water. I blinked against the glare.
Josue was once again lounging at the rail. “Don’t you ever work?” I asked him.
“Don’t you ever shut up?” He nodded to the crew-man holding my arm, and another gun dug into my ribs. “Now, maybe you’re willing to tell me the account number of all this mythical money you have to share?”
I shook my head.
“Wrong answer.” He turned to Thiago, who was holding me. “Shoot her and put her over the side. Do it in the stomach. That way she has time to change her mind before the sharks come.”
Damn. I was glad this guy wasn’t a Warden.
Thiago tried to follow orders, but when he pulled the trigger, it resulted in a dry click. He tried again, frowning.
“Here, let me see,” I said. I took the pistol from him, held it in my hand, and melted the barrel into dripping slag that ran through my glowing fingers and in streams across the deck. “Oh, there’s your problem. Man, they really don’t make these things like they used to.”
I heard more clicks as other pirates joined the hunting party, but I’d disrupted the firing mechanisms of every single gun aboard the ship in one fast burst. So many delicate parts to a gun, really. Not like a good blunt object. “Don’t make me blow up your ammunition,” I said. “It’ll take your hands off with it when it goes up. Classic choice, though. Who wants a hook to complete the whole pirate image?”
Guns hit the deck and tumbled, metal on metal.Weapons skidded from side to side in the pitch and roll of the waves, and an Uzi nudged my foot. I kicked it to the rail, where it hesitated on the edge, then tipped over.
“Good boys,” I said. The captain—no coward, even if he didn’t understand what was happening—pulled his knife, the better to fillet me. “Okay, not you, obviously, and I’m voting you off the island. Thank you for playing. Say hello to the sharks.”
I blew him over the side of the ship, out into the water. He hit with a tremendous splash and came up screaming.
I ignored him. “Right,” I said. “Your captain had an attention problem. Who wants to be in charge now?”
They all looked at each other. Nobody dared make a move to rescue Josue, who was flailing like a gaffed fish, although their gazes frequently cut in his direction. One man stepped forward—Thiago, who I suspected was the second in command anyway. “You are,” he said. “Miss.”
I smiled at him—my best, most winning smile, fueled by a wild edge. “You’re a smart guy. Thiago, do you want to make some money?”
“Sure.”
“Same deal I tried to make with your ex-boss. You take me in that direction”—I pointed toward where I knew Bad Bob was, as the torch on my back throbbed when I faced that way; no clue what the nautical course was, and I didn’t much care—“and I can promise you that you’ll get one hell of a great payday out of it. Better than holding up unlucky pleasure boaters, anyway.”
He exchanged looks with his fellow scavengers—okay, pirates—and one by one, they nodded. The sound of their captain’s increasingly desperate calls for rescue off the port bow probably had something to do with their quorum.
“Can we pick him up, please?” Thiago asked, like it was an afterthought, and pointed toward their captain. I turned my head and looked at him. The dawn wind blew my damp hair over my face, but I was pretty sure he could see my expression even at that distance, with that concealment.
“If he points so much as a dirty look in my direction, I’ll shoot him in the stomach and let him tell it to the sharks,” I said. “Make sure he knows that. I don’t feel like giving second chances right now.”
Thiago nodded. He had a good poker face, but there was a shadow of uneasiness in his dark eyes. “What do you want us to call you, miss?”
I smiled. “You can call me whatever you want, buddy. This isn’t going to be a long-term relationship. Believe me.”
Thiago gave some orders, the content of which was lost on me, but the ten or so men that crewed this rusty scow snapped to it. Somebody fished the captain out of the ocean and got him safely out of my sight. I felt the engines growl, shift, and surge beneath my feet as we got under way. The bow turned, heading toward a destination that wasn’t visible in any way on the horizon—except to me.