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"Bom dia," she replied with an absent grin.

As Damiãno strolled to the back platform, he returned her smile, white teeth against bronzed skin, then he dropped into the water. The man was sex on a stick -

MacRieve stepped in front of her, clasping her nape, jealousy ablaze in his expression. "Eyes on the prize, woman. It's a werewolf you'll have, or none at all."

"Is that right?"

"Unless you like your men dead, because Damiãno's already at the top of my list." He tugged her to him for a brief but scalding kiss "You're mine, Lousha. Doona ever forget that."

With that, he leapt in as well, leaving her breathless - and convinced she had a thing for jealous alpha males, like this one who kissed as if each kiss were his last....

While those two were busy, Lucia thought she should take care of some shipboard business on the observation deck. She climbed the stairs, then crossed all the way to the back, to a patch of the thatched roof. Earlier, she'd heard rustling coming from within.

Now she spied a hideaway tucked up under the thatching, with two small bare feet sticking out from the edge. Izabel.

"What are you doing?"

Izabel exhaled testily. "Nada."

Lucia peeked in and found what looked like a luggage shelf with a couple of feet of clearance. Izabel was lying flat up there. Following her example, Lucia hopped up, shimmying on her belly to the end. And found a hideout perfect for spying. From here, they could see the platform and the back uncovered deck, as well as the side gangways - a good bit of the ship.

"You've been spying on us?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she demanded. "All you people are louco."

"Crazy, are we? Well, aren't you the sassiest little - "

"Latina?" She glared. "The spunky Portuguesa?"

Sassiest little mortal, Lucia had been thinking. "How are we all crazy?"

Izabel jutted her chin. "I don't think you're a doctor."

Lucia shrugged. "I think you're in love with a drunk."

With narrowed hazel eyes, Izabel said, "I don't think you're even married to Mr. MacRieve."

"Is that all you've got on me?" Lucia asked, relieved. She'd thought Izabel had discovered their true natures.

 12

"If you and Mr. MacRieve are married, then I'll eat Schecter's shorts."

"Now that was just... unnecessary. And why would you think that about us?"

"When you're not looking, MacRieve reaches for you and pulls back his hand in a fist, like he's dying to touch you." He does? "Married people aren't like that!"

"Then I'll be honest with you, Izabel. We're not married, but he's... old fashioned. He didn't want my reputation to be hurt when I shacked up with him aboard this ship. Anything else?"

"MacRieve keeps giving Travis cash, and we keep going off the planned route."

This was true. The Scot had told Lucia that he'd been steering Travis, paying the captain to take them directly by Rio Labyrinto. "MacRieve has been here before and knows promising research areas." The ship would arrive in the vicinity in a week or so, probably right after the full moon. She and MacRieve had decided not to lose the mortals; instead, they planned to sneak out on the Contessa's auxiliary motorboat. "So he's merely been directing Travis. Anything else?"

"That's all I've got on you two. For now. But the others are just as strange."

"Tell me."

"Why should I?"

"Travis said to drop him a dime if you screwed up. Do you think he'd fire you for spying on his passengers? Maybe sack your brother as well, after all Charlie's been putting up with?" Every day, the captain barked at the young man, ranting at him for repairing anything on board too well. Charlie was a good sport, quietly enduring each outburst. "Now tell me, or kiss your big Texan good-bye."

With another glare, Izabel said, "Fine. Take Damiãno. He's definitely louco."

Lucia had to agree that something was off about the man, no matter how physically blessed he was. There was a seething intensity about him, much like MacRieve's. Except that when Damiãno smiled, it never quite reached his eyes - and his eyes followed her constantly.

"He speaks Portuguese, right?" Izabel said. "So Charlie and I try to talk to him. But he speaks old Portuguese."

"How do you mean?"

"It's Portuguese like the conquistadors spoke." That is strange. "And then he'll see we're frowning at him, and he'll smile that magnificente smile." She sighed. "Muito bonito."

"Damiãno is hot," Lucia murmured, then realized she'd spoken aloud. "And by that, I mean, I respect his mind."

Izabel tapped her chin. "And Schecter?"

"Not so much with the hot."

"Well, he - "

"Shh," Lucia hissed. "He's coming."

With an aluminum case in hand, the professor slinked to the gangway - out of sight of the men laboring at the platform. His case was a Halliburton - the kind most often found handcuffed to a wrist, carrying missile codes inside. Lucia rolled her eyes.

After glancing both ways, he took out his "revolutionary" lure, which looked like an airplane's black box attached to a rope. When he turned it on, a blinking red light on the top beeped sonic frequencies. They made her ears twitch until he dipped the device into the water.

Under her breath, Lucia said, "Hey, Iz - now's your chance to eat his shorts."

Izabel's eyes widened, as if she were shocked Lucia was teasing her. Then she whispered, "Hold me back. That cowlick? Muito machão."

Lucia couldn't stop a grin.

When Schecter moved on to other parts of the ship, Izabel said, "That one's keeping snakes, lizards, and all kinds of amphibians in his room. Poisonous ones, even. And that lure thing? I'm not a scientist, but common sense says that when you bait something, you better be able to handle its arrival." Smart girl. "I know this ship up and down - it's held together by prayers, duct tape, and Charlie - and it couldn't take the visit of a 'mega' anything. So Schecter's either very foolish or very selfish."

Agreed. "What about Rossiter?"

"Now him, I like," Izabel answered. "But he's sick or something. Never sleeps. And I think he's obsessed with flowers, always drawing them - "

Lucia's phone vibrated then with yet another text message. She twisted around in the cramped space to view the screen. RegRad: Got 2 level 9/ ice wrld. U always do ice wrlds 4 me. Just as Lucia sighed - she missed Regin like crazy - another message from her arrived. Got thru it anywy. SO SUCK IT RAW!


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