THIRTEEN
AND WE DID it again.Searching the darn, ruddy ship, only to find absolutely nothing. It wasn’t even frustrating at that point, just boring.
As theSS Florentiaapproached Sicily, we spent our days going up and down ladders and stairs and sneaking into narrow passageways slick with engine oil and smelling like sweaty socks. We’d found the cash-filled wallets of two passengers, a wedding ring a lady had lost a while ago, and a seagull eating from the garbage bin in the kitchen. But no trace of the lamia.
Since I refused to spend another hour buried in some obscure passage of the ship on a brilliant June day and since I was still fatigued by my ordeal, I lounged on one of the sunbathing chairs on the main deck, enjoying the warmth and the light on my skin. Curse the lamia. If it wanted me, it knew where to find me.
Oliver paced in front of me, nervous like a father about to have his firstborn. Rennie sat next to me, elbows on his knees as he followed Oliver’s moves with a hawk-like gaze.
“It can’t be possible.” Oliver ran a hand through his blond hair, snarling. “Where is it? Why didn’t it show itself?”
“Maybe it lost interest in me.” I closed my eyes and wondered if I would acquire a nice tan. Fashion was so odd. Until a few years ago, tanned skin was considered unfashionable, even vulgar. Pale skin had always been a favourite feature for the ladies. They’d protected their skin from the sun with parasols and cosmetics. But since holidays and cruises to distant places had become popular, so had a tan. A tan meant holidays, holidays meant money, and money meant fun for society, and I actually liked that?—
“Did you hear me?” Oliver was scowling at me.
“No.” I didn’t think I had any obligation to be polite to him.
“I think you should have a look at the conservatory,” he said. “We haven’t checked it recently, and it’s my best bet to find the lamia’s nest. Maybe it likes the plants and the warmth.”
I rolled my eyes, but before I could answer, Rennie stood up. “Monia is tired because, just in case you forgot, someone had the brilliant idea to traumatise her by forcing her memories out while knowing the procedure could be lethal.”
Oliver stepped closer to him. Only a few feet of charged masculine aggression separated them. “We have already discussed that.”
“And you still sound like a bastard for what you did to her.” A muscle in Rennie’s neck ticked.
As much as I loved that he was standing up for me, I was perfectly able to defend myself. So I rose—groaning inwardly at my ruined sunbath—and stepped between the two stags about to butt heads.
“Gentlemen, please. I can decide for myself.” It was becoming my motto and I loved it. I turned towards Rennie. “Rennie, I would like to take a walk. Would you please escort me?”
“I’d be delighted,” he said through gritted teeth. Without taking his eyes off Oliver, he took my hand and strode off. “Where would you like to go?” he asked after we had left the main deck.
“The conservatory.” I laughed. “I just didn’t want to give Oliver the satisfaction of knowing I agreed with him.”
He laughed too, his gaze softening.
The conservatory was indeed a beautiful place to spend a sunny day. With its tall ferns, rhododendrons, and orchids, it gave the illusion of being in a jungle. The other good thing was the other passengers snubbed it, for some reason. They preferred the shows at the theatre or the concerts while I found the lush plants and the quiet to be soothing. The scent of jasmine filled the air when we entered the garden. The slosh of water came from a fountain with water lilies floating around.
“You really don’t like Oliver, do you?” I asked, taking his arm.
“Do you like him?” A little growl crept into his voice.
“I can’t forgive him for having nearly killed me, but to be honest, I’m glad to have my memories back. Finally, my life makes sense. Now I know where the fear and sense of oppression came from.” I shook my head. “I regret having asked my parents to cleanse my memories. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Rennie held my hand tightly. “I want to punch the poncy bastard for what he did to you every time he breathes. But I didn’t like him even before the incident. It’s a feeling.”
We strolled through hibiscus plants with red flowers bigger than my hand and orchids that released a sweet fragrance into the air.
“I find it odd that the bureau wants to capture the lamia alive.” I touched one of the flowers. Drops of water glistened on the petals. “Lamiae are rare, but the bureau’s priority is people’s safety, not research. I don’t understand what the bureau is thinking.”
“That’s a bloody good point.” He stroked my hand. “We should take a closer look at the documents he so quickly showed us.”
“I agree.” The heat and humidity formed a soft mist that veiled the emerald leaves. “Do you think the lamia left?” I asked.
“I don’t know. No one knew a lamia could kiss without killing a person. Everything we’ve learnt so far is new. Perhaps it’ll reappear when it’s hungry again.”
“How will I know I’m meeting the lamia, if it doesn’t appear as Sandro or Edward?”
Rennie paused in front of a spot from where we could see the sea. “I asked your parents the same question when we were in Venice. The reason your mother thought the lamia was an incubus is because its eyes darkened when he was about to kiss you. Do you remember it?”
