Dragon Soul (Dragon Falls, #3)(79)

On the way out of the room Rowan asked, “What is in that bag?”

“Your costume.”

“I don’t want to wear a costume. Come to it, I don’t want to go to the costume party. I just waded through a lake of fire. I want to make love to you, try to contact the archimage, and then go to sleep. I’m willing to forgo the last two so long as I get the first one. You’ll notice that nowhere on that list is spending time with the others on this cruise while wearing fancy dress.”

“Gabriel is doing it,” she told him as they headed for the lowest deck. “You can just suck it up, buttercup, and do it as well. It’s our last night on the ship, and Captain Bossy Pants AKA the Possible Executioner has requested our presence.” Sophea’s face looked unusually drawn, and instantly Rowan wanted to sweep her up into his arms and kiss her to the point where she forgot her troubles. “Besides, this isn’t a horrible costume. I had the shop lady set it aside the second day, so no one else would grab it. Do we split up or search together?”

They had reached the lowest level of the ship. Rowan hesitated a moment, then said, “We search together.”

She smiled and took his hand, a gesture that kicked his dragon fire into high. “I like it when we think alike.”

“Oh, you’re thinking about making love to you, too?” he asked with an innocent expression.

She laughed and pinched his arm. Rowan enjoyed the warm glow her presence brought him as they searched all levels of the ship.

Almost an hour later, they emerged from the dining room, hot, tired, and without any success. “Shall we beard the lion in his den?” Rowan asked, gesturing toward the bridge.

“Do you think it will do any good?” she asked.

“We won’t know until we try.” Rowan didn’t wait for her to answer and pounded on the door to the bridge.

It was opened by the captain, whose eyes narrowed when he saw who it was. “What do you want, dragon?”

“A few answers, ferryman.” Rowan wrestled for a moment with his dragon fire, but managed to keep it from flaring out around him. “Are you aware that another passenger has disappeared?”

“Another passenger?”

“The first one was decapitated, if you recall,” Rowan said, wondering if the man was just pretending to be dense or if he really cared so little about his passengers.

“She did not disappear. She was found,” Kherty said dismissively.

“Only after she’d been killed. Now a second one is gone.”

“I know.”

“And are you doing anything about it?”

The captain shrugged. “I am informed that you just searched my ship—did you find anything?”

“No.” Rowan felt an irrational anger build toward the man. Dammit, it wasn’t his job to be searching the ship. Why wasn’t the captain taking more of an interest?

“Then there is nothing more for me to do. Sending men from their duties to search the ship after you just did so—yes, my crew reported your actions—would be a waste. I prefer to wait patiently for the woman to return.”

“With or without her head?” Sophea asked sweetly.

The captain shot her a dark look, then started to close the door.

“I think everyone would be happier if a more formal search were instigated,” Rowan said firmly. “One conducted by individuals who know all of the secret places on the ship.”

“My ship has no secret places,” the captain said firmly, and closed the door in Rowan’s face.

Sophea turned to him, her expression of frustration no doubt mirroring his. “Am I crazy, Rowan, or does no one here think it’s a big deal for someone to disappear and possibly be killed?”

He took her arm and led her downstairs. “We aren’t crazy, love. It’s just a different world, one where death is not a permanent end. Most of the passengers consider it an intermediate phase before they go to a new existence.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like to talk to Ipy to see how blasé she feels about having had her head lopped off. I just hope Gilly is okay.”

“I hesitate to say this because it can only sound callous, but I suppose in the end, we’ll find out from her.”

“You mean because…” Sophea didn’t finish the sentence.

“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.”