“May I present the Rush?” Saiman said. “Once USCGC Rush, now just the Rush. Three hundred and seventy-eight feet long, forty-three feet high, displacement of three thousand two hundred and fifty tons. Two gas turbines, four enchanted water generators, maximum speed during magic twenty knots, during tech twenty-nine knots. Otobreda seventy-six-millimeter super-rapid artillery gun, three ballistas, and a number of other bells and whistles, which makes it the finest vessel in my fleet. My flagship.”
“Spared no expense?” I said.
Saiman grinned, displaying even, white teeth. “I prefer to travel safely or not at all.”
* * *
I stood on the deck of the Rush, smelling the salty, ocean-saturated air, and watched our supplies being loaded. The sailors on the ship at the next pier watched also. They had a crane. We had Eduardo Ortego, who picked up five-hundred-pound containers and casually tossed them onto the deck, where Mahon and Curran caught them and lowered them into the cargo hold.
The human sailors were looking a little sick. I was glad Eduardo was coming with us. Mahon had chosen the massive werebuffalo as his backup and nobody objected.
Family members and various shapeshifters swarmed over the Rush. Jim marched about, muttering things under his breath. George was showing cabins to her mother. The wind tugged on the unruly halo of her long dark curls, which she unsuccessfully tried to tame with a rubber band. Mahon’s wife, a plump, happy African American woman, followed her daughter with a proud smile on her face. George was built like her dad—taller, sturdier, broader in the shoulders than her mother—but her big smile was the same: bright and infectious. I wasn’t the smiling type, but when either of them smiled at you, it was hard not to grin back.
The deck under my feet was moving. The moment I shifted my balance to compensate, the ship tried to make a break for it. Last time I’d taken a ship was almost three years ago. Clearly, this wasn’t at all like riding a bicycle.
Andrea, on the other hand, seemed no worse for wear. She leaned on the rail on my right, smiling. Raphael stood next to her. Where Andrea was short and blond, Raphael was tall, lean, and dark, with a wave of nearly black hair falling to his shoulders. He was also smoking hot. Some men had that indescribable quality, a kind of masculine sensual air. They looked at you and you knew having sex with them would be a memorable experience. Raphael didn’t just have the air; he was his own seductive tornado. He was also one of the deadliest knife fighters I’ve encountered. Raphael loved Andrea more than fish loved the sea. She loved him back and flashed her guns when single women strayed too close.
Barabas stood on the other side of me, looking like he would hurl any minute. “Does it always move this much?”
“It gets worse,” Raphael told him.
“You’ll get used to it,” Andrea promised.
A woman came down the pier, heading for the ship. She walked with an easy, lazy grace that spoke of strength and perfect balance, despite the dangerously tall heels of her black leather boots. Shapeshifter walk. Always a dead giveaway.
Black jeans hugged her hips, and a rust-red blouse with a jean jacket over it showed off her curves. Her hair, worked into a mane of dark tight spirals, moved as she walked, underscoring her smooth stride. She turned and I saw her face. She was striking: a heart-shaped face, skin the color of coffee, with smart dark eyes and a full, sensual mouth.
Eduardo picked up the next container and saw the woman. His face fell. “Hi, Keira.”
Ha! So that was what Jim’s sister looked like.
Keira winked at Eduardo. “Hello, delicious.”
All of the blood drained from Eduardo’s face. The container whistled through the air, cleared the deck, and plunged into the water on the other side.
Keira laughed, a low contralto chuckle, and kept going.
“Oops,” Eduardo called out.
“What the hell?” Curran growled.
“I’m sorry, that one was lighter.”
“You threw it, you fish it out.”
If that container was the one with my herbal supplies and weapons, I’d be really put out.
Keira walked up the plank. “Hey, Barabas.” She offered me her hand. “Keira. Jim’s sister.”
“Kate. Jim’s friend.” I shook her hand. Good grip.
“Hi, Raphael. And you must be Andrea. From the Order, right?” Keira asked.
“Yes,” Andrea said.
“Good to meet you.”
“What’s the deal with you and Eduardo?” Barabas asked.
Keira grinned. “It’s a funny story. When Eduardo first came to the city, he decided our laws didn’t apply to him and he failed to come and say hi. Jim sent me to fetch him. I might have hunted him a little. For fun.”