“Yes. If she has met with a fatal accident—or deliberate attack—then she, too, will reappear in time. And perhaps she will have seen who her attacker was.”
Sophea rubbed her arms as they entered the cabin. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be a ghost. So if there’s a deadly madman running around, I want him caught.”
He gave her a look that let her see the true extent of his emotions. “I will not allow any harm to come to you.”
She gave him a blinding smile in return, and after inquiring of the priestesses if Gilly had reappeared (she hadn’t), they reentered the bedroom, where Sophea handed him one of the two bags.
He sent her a pleading look. “Do I have to?”
“Yes. Look, it’s not as bad as all that.” She pulled items out of the bag and laid them out on the bed.
He eyed them. One of the objects was a brown fedora. “What am I supposed to be?”
“Indiana Jones.” A fleeting smile graced her lips before she returned to looking worried. “I figured it wasn’t so far off from what you really are. Were. Before the First Dragon bopped you on the head, that is.”
He took the costume, eyed the accompanying bullwhip, gun with holster, and canvas bag, and decided that the situation could be worse. “I am a sociologist, not an archaeologist, but I agree the costume is not obnoxious. Although I refuse to carry around the rubber snake.”
“I think that’s meant to be more of a prop than anything.” She gathered up the second bag and headed for the door. “Since Mrs. P and her pride of models were heading upstairs to the party, I’ll change in her bathroom so you can have ours to have a shower and stuff.”
“You don’t wish to shower together?” he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“In a heartbeat, but not in that shower. I can barely fit into it as it is.”
He had to allow that the shower was very small.
“It might take me a little longer to get ready, so I’ll meet you upstairs, okay?”
“Very well.” He glanced at his cell phone, willing the mage to call him early. He’d never felt so much like he had his back firmly against a wall, and he didn’t like the sensation one little bit.
Twenty minutes later, he scooped his phone and other items off the table and into the canvas bag slung across his chest, and made his way to the upper deck, there finding the party fully underway. Music played—lively, danceable tunes—at the fore of the ship, the area around it having been cleared to serve as a makeshift dance floor. Beyond that were scattered round tables, two banks of buffet food laid out in the form of a smiling crocodile, and a giant punch bowl. Balloons waved gently overhead, tied to the strings of festival lights that festooned the length of the ship. Standing separated from the others were the captain and two of his officers.
Rowan pushed his hat to the back of his head, feeling rakish despite the silliness of being forced into a costume. Perhaps it was the bullwhip coiled at his belt, or some new dragon emotion running rampant through him, but there was more than a little hint of a swagger when he strolled over to where May and Gabriel stood sipping glasses of what looked to be champagne. “Good evening.”
“It is, thanks to you,” May said, lifting her glass to him.
Gabriel’s lips twisted. “I apologize for not being on hand to help with the challenge. We… erm… we…”
“We were otherwise occupied,” May said smoothly, a smile hovering around her mouth. “Although Gabriel did wrap things up quickly so he could go help you, but the challenge had already started. Was it awful?”
“Moderately so,” he answered, remembering the pain of his burned arm. Absently, he rubbed it.
“There’s only one more to go, and that should not be too onerous.” Gabriel shot him a piercing look that grated on Rowan’s already frayed nerves. “That is, if your soul is not found wanting.”
“I did not kill those dragons,” he ground out through his teeth, and would have given Gabriel a piece of his mind if not for two things: the first was Mrs. P, who was now wearing a Black Swan ballet costume, complete with tiara and theatrical makeup. Behind her a woman followed, a woman who made his heart beat faster just watching her. It was at that moment that Rowan realized that what he was feeling wasn’t just attraction held by a wyvern for his mate but love. Actual love. The kind that hit him hard in the gut and stripped all the breath from his lungs. It pierced his heart, making him simultaneously giddy and a bit frightened. He’d never felt such depth of emotion for anyone, let alone a romantic partner, and here he was completely and utterly besotted with Sophea.