CHAPTER 50

Klaire’s potion worked immediately. Victor’s eyes widened, he made a choking noise, then sagged forward onto the glass table, knocking the wine bottle over. It rolled across the table, slopping red wine that spread and dripped onto the carpet below.

“Victor!” Currito cried, rushing forward.

I hardened my heart as I slid my fingers around the dagger. God help me.

I lunged across the table and drove the blade of the knife across Currito’s neck. His cry became a gurgle. His blood spurted and pumped out in jets.

Carla leapt up from the floor, snatched the wine bottle, and smashed his head. I grabbed the knife from his unresisting fingers and blood smeared my hands. Had I really killed a man?

“Don’t think about it,” Carla said.

“Right.” I held the knife out to Carla. “Take this.”

She did and stepped closer to Jade. I pushed back from the table and grabbed Jade’s arm.

“We’re getting off this ship!”

The girl stared at me, her confused gaze shifting to the two men slumped over the table. She seemed numb. I jerked her arm.

“We have to go!”

“But we’re locked in.”

“Maybe not,” I said.

Carla glared at her daughter. “Go on!”

Jade scrambled off the bed and followed me to the door. The handle turned. In their arrogance, the two men hadn’t even bothered to lock the door. I pulled it open. Then the three of us were in the passage outside. I pushed the lock button and yanked the door closed behind us.

I looked right and left. Where was Gonzales? Maybe closer to the bow, or up top with the captain. Voices sounded from that direction and we fled down the hall toward the stern, stopping at the spiral staircase. From the lower floor, the sound of the engine vibrated upward. We peered down. Two men in short sleeved shirts with epaulets walked in the passage below. Crewmen.

Up the stair shaft, all was quiet and motionless. We scooted up, finding ourselves in the lounge we’d been dragged through before. No one there. What had they done with Rick’s body? Thrown it overboard? I shuddered and forced myself to look around.

Couches upholstered in silver and white leather. A black marble bar I hadn’t noticed before across the room. I motioned Jade and Carla to follow, ran to the bar, and opened its narrow side door. We slipped inside, and dropped to the floor.

“What are we doing?” Jade asked.

“Hiding,” Carla said.

“I’m going to find us a lifeboat.” I slowly rose to look over the bar counter. I strained my senses, searching for voices, sounds, or movement. Nothing. On the back wall, there was a long couch, a coffee table, and a huge flat-screen. I didn’t see a phone. But I did see a silver lighter and cigarette box lying next to an ashtray. That lighter would fire up a cherry bomb.

Windows lined the wall across the room. I could see the railing outside, lit by the exterior lights on the yacht.

“Come on,” I said.

The three of us crept from the bar. I made a “wait here” motion and jogged to the coffee table, where I slid the silver lighter into my pocket. I gestured at the sliding door in the wall of glass, so close to where Rick had been lying. A long damp spot marred the carpet, and the chemical smell of rug cleaner hung in the air. I didn’t look too closely at the stain.

I slid the glass door open and eased my head out. Jerked back. Too late. Gonzales. He barreled toward me.

I flicked the silver lighter, grabbed a cherry bomb, and lit the short fuse.

“Run!” I shouted to Jade and Carla.

I tossed the bomb into the doorway. We tore across the lounge and plunged down the spiral staircase. I heard loud popping noises and a shriek from Gonzales above. We kept going. At the bottom, I lit a second firecracker and threw it down the passage toward the bow of La Sirena. We ran toward the stern, Gonzales’s feet pounding down the stairs somewhere behind us.

I opened a cabin door and we slipped inside. I left the door open a crack and watched the hall. Bang! The little bomb exploded, and Gonzales raced in that direction, probably imagining he was hot on our trail.

We bailed from the cabin through acrid smoke that filled the passageway. We ran toward the back of the yacht, passing the room we’d escaped from. It was still closed, locked, and silent.

We paused when we reached the wide opening to the rear deck. The crew must use it to bring in supplies. A pleasant odor reached me from an open door. The galley. I was so hungry. I could swear I smelled bread baking.

A huge dumbwaiter outside the galley must service the ship with goodies from the kitchen. I imagined a dozen cocktails with little umbrellas and sandwiches rising from the galley to the sun deck.

Get with it! How long did I think it would be before Gonzales sent crewmen after us? Before he saw what I’d done to Currito and Victor?

I shifted my attention to what lay beyond the opening.

“Let’s see what’s out there, “I said.