Steel Victory

Chapter 3

“You’ll hear more than shouting if I need you.” Victory hauled herself over the edge and onto the barge’s deck. It was a good thing she hadn’t dressed up to welcome her sire home—grime from the side of the hull now streaked the front of her jeans, and she had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

With one last wave to Mikelos, Victory darted between the large shipping containers stacked in the front of the barge. She made her way toward the rear of the vessel, where the working and living quarters for the crew should be.

The real question concerned Asaron’s location. They were nearing Limani, but had not yet passed it. He might not even know his travel arrangements had changed. If all else failed, she could sit tight in hiding and wait for the mayhem to start when her sire figured out his new destination. Even before the British colonies had begun their crusade against vampires, echoing their European homeland’s long-held discrimination policies, Asaron refused to travel there. Something about a girl.

But she had no guarantee Asaron was still loose on the riverboat. The captain might have ordered him restrained at once upon learning his new orders in order to prevent said mayhem. Either way, Victory needed to find him now.

Could it be possible to take over the boat and force it to dock at Limani? Rhaavi didn’t seem too concerned, and she wondered how often he let deliveries slide. She paused, placing a hand against the side of a container that was damp with evening dew. The customs master was right—this was a commercial shipment, and she didn’t want to open that can of worms considering her political position in the city. But if Asaron landed in Calverton, he would have mere hours.

She kept to the shadows when she neared the rear of the barge. If only mythology and legend were reality, and she actually had some form of psychic connection with her sire. Instead, hearing heartbeats warned her of anyone approaching, her one main advantage.

Speaking of which—the dull roar of blood echoing through a heart’s chambers alerted her before she heard the gentle rhythm of the crewmember’s footsteps. She kept between two containers in the last row, sinking to her heels. Her right hand found its way to the hilt of her sword.

A shaggy-faced man in no apparent uniform wandered through the space between the cabin bulkhead and cargo. Making a split-second decision when he passed by, Victory lunged from the shadows and grabbed the back of his coat, then hauled him between the containers.

She pushed him up against the sturdy metal, bracing her forearm across his throat. “Don’t scream. Don’t make any noise.” She dug her arm into his neck, not enough to cut off air or circulation, but enough to show she meant business.

He didn’t even try to open his mouth, and his eyes shone with fear. The man nodded his head a little.

“Good,” Victory said. “I have no intention of hurting you if you tell me what I need to know. I’m not a pirate, and I only desire one thing on this boat, something that does not belong to the Empire. Understand?”

“Yes’m.” Just a whisper, but the reek of too many days on the boat with not enough toothpaste washed over her. “You’re here for the vampire, then?”

“Smart man.” Victory released him a tad, but stayed tense, ready to restrain him if needed. “You know what will happen if this boat continues to Calverton with him on it?”

“He’ll die,” he said. “Cap’n knows this, but made us lock him up anyway. Said we couldn’t afford trouble. But Asaron don’t deserve that. He’s been a good passenger, playing cards with the crew and the like.”

“Well, I’m here to relieve your captain of his problem,” Victory said, “and I don’t want to give you any trouble either. So you can either take me to him, or tell me where he is.”

“I’ll tell you, and then you better do something with me,” he said. “So I can tell Cap I resisted.”

“Fair enough,” Victory said. He asked for it. It was obvious Asaron had made quite the impression, which surprised her not in the slightest.

The man gestured toward the back of the boat, from the direction he’d come. “Follow the side all the way to the back, then take the first door you come to. Asaron’s locked in the second cabin.” He paused, looking apologetic. “I don’t have a key, and I don’t know who’s keeping it.”

“Thank you very much, but that won’t be an issue.” Victory released the man, taking a step back. “Asaron and I are in your debt.” He looked up, meeting her eyes for the single second she needed. “Sleep.”

The crewman dropped like a stone when he was hit by the mental push behind her command, and Victory grabbed him before he could thud to the deck. She lowered him into a comfortable sitting position, arranging his arms and legs enough akimbo to appear like he’d put up a fight before losing. Lying in the shadows, he wouldn’t be seen with a casual glance between the containers. She knelt next to him, recovering a bit of strength. Age brought added gifts to vampires, and she had discovered this one over the past few years. Asaron had urged her to improve it, saying practice would make it easier, but she was uncomfortable messing with people’s brains.

She peered outside the cargo area once again. With no one in sight, she crept out of hiding and headed to her left. The crewman had given perfect directions, leading her through a deserted section of the riverboat crew quarters. The outside door proved unlocked, so Victory knelt low before pulling it open. She peeked around the corner, but the passageway stood empty. Without unloading to do in Limani, the other crewmembers would be enjoying a quiet night before getting to Calverton around dawn.

Hugging the wall, Victory darted to the second door. She pressed her ear against it. Movement inside, footsteps pacing, no heartbeat. Asaron. She tried the knob, but the man had been right. Locked, and she without any tools to fix that. That was the problem with spur-of-the-moment adventures—no time to pack the essentials.

She rapped out a staccato beat on the door with her knuckles. The movement inside halted. She knocked a second time, repeating the code.

Relief washed over her when she heard the answering pattern. She backed away from the door, ready to kick it in. Drastic, but she didn’t see many other options unless she wanted to hunt down the captain for the keys. Mikelos would have to be ready to go when they came tearing back.

A door farther up the hall opened.

“Hands on your head. Now! Back away from the door!”

Victory raised her hands to either side of her head. She pivoted on her heels to confront the new arrival.

The crossbow aimed at her chest gave her a start. The crew had done their homework about fighting vampires and this man had come prepared. Shot with any accuracy, the crossbow’s wooden bolts were as hazardous to vampires as to anyone else. He kept a handgun holstered at his waist, but it must contain normal bullets rather than silver if he preferred the more unwieldy weapon.

The man dressed better than his more helpful crewmember, and when he shifted the crossbow to get a comfortable aim, Victory caught the glint of gold at his collar. She had the honor of meeting the captain, then.

He eyed Victory with a mixture of hatred and revulsion, a look she hadn’t felt in her own civilized city for years.

She heard a muffled shout from back on deck. They must have found her unconscious friend. Victory wasted no time when the captain’s fierce attention broke, diving for his legs. They crashed into the hallway wall.

He cried out in pain when they landed in a heap. The crossbow clattered to the floor. He made a quick grab for the holstered gun, but Victory was the quicker draw, snapping the stiletto into her hand and pressing it to his throat. He met her eyes and flinched away, looking to the side. But he dropped the drawn pistol.

With slow movements, Victory untangled herself from the man’s legs and crouched over him. Eyes not leaving his, she groped for the discarded gun at his side. Once she had a firm grip, she replaced the knife at his throat with the pistol. With a twist of her wrist, she resheathed the stiletto.

Rising to her feet, aim never wavering, she favored her prisoner with a glare honed by centuries of proving herself against larger mercenaries. “I want the keys to this cabin.”

The captain conceded defeat, lying on the floor as he did. Careful not to make sudden movements, he reached a hand into his breast pocket and withdrew a single key.

“Place it on the floor and push it over to me.”

He followed instructions, and Victory knelt to scoop up the key, never taking her eyes or gun off the captain. Taking a step back and reaching behind her, she slid the key into the doorknob.

With a small snick she felt more than heard, the door swung inward. “Asaron?”

A deep voice answered. “Right here, girl.”

She almost sagged with relief. “Grab your things, we’re out.”

“Way ahead of you.” A hand gripped her shoulder, and her sire darted past her into the passageway and to one of the other closed cabin doors. She focused on the captain at her feet but caught a glimpse of Asaron’s long red hair before he disappeared again.

More shouts from outside. They’d found Mikelos. “Asaron, we have to go!” Time to rescue the rescuer. She tilted her head toward Asaron’s former prison. “Into the cabin with you,” she told the captain at her feet.

He scooted across the floor on his rear into the small cabin. She gestured with the gun. He scooted back another few feet. She stepped forward to pull the door closed and lock it once again. That should help keep the barge off their tail for a short time once they made their escape.

Asaron emerged back into the hallway. He wore his familiar long leather duster over jeans and plain black shirt with his ever-present rucksack slung over one shoulder. Two sword belts looped over his other arm. Victory recognized the distinctive iron hilt of Asaron’s Schiavona, but not the other wrapped in fabric. “Bit overkill, don’t you think?” She led him back outside onto the deck. Asaron remained silent.

The rear of the boat was deserted, the deck railing and river spread out before them. She tossed the key into the water and listened for more shouts. “See anything?” Having Asaron at her side made her that much more confident. She had absolute faith that Mikelos could hold his own no matter what came up, but Asaron’s military experience dwarfed even her own.

“Nope,” Asaron said. “Got a boat?”

“How else do you think we got here? Mikelos is driving.”

“Could have been magic if you had the kids. Let’s get out of here,” Asaron said. “If you hadn’t noticed, they’re not too vampire-friendly.”

Victory led him back around the side of the boat. All the noise came from where she’d left Mikelos. They ducked between cargo containers, dashing through the maze toward the opposite end of the boat.

“Move, and we’ll cut your line. Where’s your friend?”

When she heard the voice ahead of her, she halted Asaron with an arm across his chest. She crouched and poked her head around one of the containers, not wanting to attract attention quite yet. Three men stood at the deck railing with their backs to her. She couldn’t tell whether they were armed.

Then she heard Mikelos. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She recognized that tone of voice. Her daughter used it on her all the time when she tried to act the innocent. Now she knew where Toria got it from.

Mikelos continued, “Your captain made the arrangements for me to ferry a friend out here for him since you weren’t stopping in Limani.” Oh, she knew where he was going with this. She would smack him later, after she thanked him for stalling so well. “Guess he didn’t want to share.”

Her cue. Straightening, Victory strolled out from between two of the metal containers wearing her best innocent look. “What seems to be the problem here, gentlemen?” She flashed them a charming smile and sauntered toward the railing.

The center sailor sneered at her, revealing few teeth. “Who’re you?”