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It was nice, sharing someone else’s heat, although it probably wouldn’t last too much longer, because he’d have to flame down once we got near the boats.
“I wasn’t given that information, but the boat’s name is the Heron. We should be able to walk along and find it.”
“I think it’ll be quicker and easier to ask.”
“So we’ll ask. It’s not like it’s a major problem.”
“Except if we ask the wrong person, and we end up notifying our kidnappers that we’re down here.”
I frowned. “But we know what our kidnappers look like.”
He glanced at me. “We may have beaten two of them, but there are more henchmen than that in this little gang, I assure you.”
I supposed he was right. The truth was, I hadn’t actually thought about it, even though I knew it must have taken more than the four men I was aware of to destroy the draman towns. “We’re not going to Angus’s boat, though, but his friend’s, so as long as we’re careful, we should be all right. After all, neither of us resembles our usual self.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is when you look like a kid wearing your much-older brother’s clothes.”
A smile touched his lips. “I think you look rather cute.”
“And I think you’re insane.”
“You wouldn’t be the first person to think that,” he mused. “I can see the Heron from here. She’s the white-and-blue motor yacht.”
I followed the line of his gaze and saw the boat he was talking about. It was large and long, and had at least three decks. It also looked damn expensive. But I saw something else, as well. Or rather, someone else.
Angus.
His sea-colored head was visible for only a few moments, before he ducked down into the lower decks, but I had no doubt it was him.
“Our quarry is on the boat,” I said softly.
“Good.” Damon flexed his arms, reminding me of a fighter getting ready for the next bout. “You go straight to the boat. I’ll board via the rear of the yacht in the next berth. Between the two of us, we should be able to prevent an escape.”
“He’s a sea dragon. He won’t need to escape. He can just call the sea and drown us.”
He gave me a cool, calm smile that sent a chill racing down my spine. Death had reentered the building.
“Even the canniest sea dragon isn’t faster than a bullet.”
Goose bumps joined the chill. “And just when does a dragon need a gun?”
“Since I became a muerte.” He shrugged, and it was a surprisingly eloquent movement. “Burning is not a pleasant way to die, and I’d rather a quick kill before I burn.”
“So Death does have a soft side?”
“There’s nothing soft about mercy.” He smiled suddenly, and it was like sunshine breaking through rain: brief but glorious. “Although, if we’re talking about you, I suspect you have lots of lovely soft spots.”
“Which you’re never going to uncover unless you work on that attitude of yours.”
His smile faded. “I can’t change the attitude of a lifetime in a matter of minutes, no matter how much I might want to kiss you again. You ready?”
I nodded, too struck by the knowledge that he did want to kiss me again to say anything intelligent. We walked on. That, at least, I could manage—although part of me wanted to dance.
There were locked gates between us and the boats, but it didn’t take much of an effort on Damon’s part to get past. We slipped inside and parted ways—he moving into the first slip area and me stepping on board the Heron.
The minute I set foot on the boat, Angus’s familiar voice said, “Is that you, Mikey?”
