Holt the Interceptor Page 10

  The blonde looked up at Holt. “You’ll like Catharine but I don’t know if she’ll like you.”

  Holt slid his arm around her waist and turned her toward the door. “Only one way to find out.”

  *

  “Finally!” Ivy yelled when the cuff on her left wrist sprung open. She slid her right hand from around the headboard post and shifted her lock pick to her left. It took her less than a minute to free herself completely now that she was in a better position. Slinging the cuffs onto the nightstand with a loud jangle, she stood up and stretched.

  It had taken her over an hour to pick the first lock, thanks to the position she had been in. Now she was free.

  “I’m outta here,” she said, shoving the pick back into its hidden pocket on her pack. She detoured to the bathroom—just in case—then she snagged her pack from the bed and headed out the bedroom door.

  The living room was deserted, the lights dim. Still, she couldn’t take any chances. Standing on tiptoe, she peered through the peephole in the door. She didn’t see anyone in the hall but of course if there were someone, they would have to be standing directly in front of the door to be seen. Ivy couldn’t go by that. What if they were on their way back?

  She dropped back down on her heels. Gently, she turned the doorknob. She pulled it open a crack. A small sliver of hallway was revealed. She pressed close to the door. That way was clear. Now to check the other way.

  Ivy took a deep breath and opened the door far enough so she could stick her head out.

  Empty. So far, so good.

  She eased herself past the doorframe and into the hall. The door clicked closed behind her. There was no turning back now.

  The elevator was to the right. Ivy turned left, heading for the stairs. If she took the elevator it would be just her luck that she’d make it to the lobby, the doors would ‘whoosh’ open and there would stand Holt. Better to take the stairs.

  Ivy moved as quickly and silently as possible down the hall, praying that one of the men didn’t show up. When she got to the door for the stairs, she whipped it open and ducked inside.

  She leaned against the door for a moment, letting her heart rate slow. Whew, she thought, I made it this far.

  Ivy pushed off the door and headed down the stairs at a fast pace. The quicker she got out of the hotel, the easier it would be to become invisible if she saw them.

  The door to the lobby had no peephole. She was just going to have to wing it. After a couple of deep breaths, Ivy pushed through the door, her eyes scanning. She walked confidently, head high, shoulders back, as she crossed the lobby toward the front door. A man about seventy-years-old wearing plaid pants winked at her as she passed. Ivy winked back. It amused her that someone of that age had the spark to try to come on to her.

  She walked through the front door and onto the sidewalk. There were few people walking around in the area. The hotel was on the south end of town and though it had a view of the waterfront, it wasn’t near the marina and that’s where she needed to be.

  Ivy walked on, staying close to the edge of the sidewalk near the buildings. If she did happen to get a glimpse of Holt and his minions, she could duck into a doorway.

  The night was warm and humid. Ivy could feel the dampness in the air on her skin. She wondered if it was going to storm. Storms were common in Chicago and got quite violent at times so she wasn’t afraid of thunder, lightning and wind but—she was planning on being out in the water, hopefully on a boat. She didn’t think she’d like a storm to blow up until she and Heather were back on dry land.

  After about half a mile, Ivy began to see lights out on the water. Boat lights. She was getting close. She stepped it up a bit. It was getting close to midnight. The later it got the less chance she had of getting a lift out to Bloody Hell. Crystal View seemed as if it was ten miles long by the time Ivy made it to the harbormaster’s office. These little coastal towns were almost always laid out in a long strip next to the lake. That made them feel as if they were huge when in reality, they may be a mile long but only two blocks wide.

  Ivy’s leg muscles were twitching as she put her face up to the window I the door of the harbormaster’s office. The office was dark, only tiny blinking lights flashed every so often on the radio equipment that lined the small desk inside.

  “Dammit,” Ivy muttered, walking toward the boardwalk at the edge of the water. “What the hell does someone do if they want to dock in the middle of the night?” She parked her fists on her hips and scowled.

  Music filtered to her through the air. Ivy perked up. Someone on one of these boats was awake. She walked down the boardwalk, following the sound of rock and roll. After passing just three docks, Ivy had the boat spotted.

  Multi-colored party lights draped the deck of the boat. Ivy made a beeline down the dock to where it was tied up. The music came to an abrupt stop just as Ivy reached the side of the boat but still there was laughter aboard. Ivy cleared her throat. “Ahoy there the boat!” she called out.

  The laughter hushed, then started again.

  “Hey!” Ivy leaned over, seeing if she could spot anyone. It seemed they were all at the back of the boat.

  A head popped up above the top deck. “What?” a man asked.

  Even hearing just one word out of his mouth, Ivy knew he was drunk. She sighed. Damn, she was having a crappy day. It had started when she woke up to find herself alone in bed and had gotten worse from then on. “I need a ride out to a boat. I’ll pay if anyone is willing to take me.” Ivy smiled, trying to look at least pleasant.

  The man raised a hand. “You hold on there,” he slurred. “I’ll be right down.” His head disappeared below the side of the top deck.

  Ivy shuffled her feet. This was taking forever. Then the man reappeared on the lower deck. Another man joined him. They both came to the rail of the lower deck and looked at Ivy.

  She waved. “Hi.”

  “You need a lift?” the man with the drunk asked.

  Ivy nodded. “Yes. I want to go out to one of the boats. I want to surprise my sister.” A bit relieved that this man hadn’t slurred his words, Ivy knew she still wasn’t out of the words yet.

  “Why don’t you stay here with us?” the drunk asked. He swept one arm wide. “This is where the party is.” He stumbled.

  The other man caught him before he went overboard. “Mike, I told you an hour ago you’d had enough,” the man scolded the drunk as he stood him back upright. “Go to bed before you fall in and drown.”

  The drunk … Mike … flapped a hand. “Jerry, you’re nothin’ but a party-pooper.” Then he tottered off toward the back of the boat.

  Jerry grimaced. “Sorry about that. You say you want to surprise your sister huh?”

  Ivy hiked her pack higher on her shoulder. “It’s her birthday and she doesn’t know I’m in town,” she lied.

  Jerry grinned. “All right. I’ll take you. Give me a minute.” He turned and headed for the back of the boat.

  Ivy made a fist and brought it down against her thigh. Yes! Something was going right.

  Ivy paced on the dock, anxious to get out on the water. A breeze was kicking up, fluffing her already spiked hair. She nervously eyed the sky. Clouds were moving in, passing over the moon. Please, she silently prayed, hold off just a little while longer.

  “Hey girl!”

  Ivy swung around but she didn’t see anyone. She frowned.

  “Hey!”

  The voice had sounded like it had come from the surface of the water. Ivy moved to the edge of the dock, careful not to go too far.

  Ivy looked down over the edge. Jerry was there in what looked like a child’s blow-up boat. He beckoned to her.

  “Use that ladder,” he said, pointing a few feet down the dock.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “It’s the only way down … unless you want to jump,” Jerry said, grinning up at her.

  Ivy set her jaw and went to the top of the wooden ladder. As she shakily swung one leg over the
edge of the dock, she made a vow.

  Heather was going to so pay for this.

  Chapter Eight

  On their way out of The Cellar, Holt stopped and retrieved his duffel from ‘Marilyn’. Out on the street, the blond looked up at him. “What’s with the bag?”

  Holt looked straight ahead. “Never know when I’ve pushed it too far.” He looked down at her. “Sometimes, I get so involved in things, I don’t realize it’s almost dawn.”

  The blonde nodded. “So it’s like your security blanket.”

  “You could say that.” Holt gripped the handles of the bag, secure in the knowledge that the weight of it spoke death—true death—to the vampires.

  “My name is Peg,” the blonde said.

  “We call her Piglet, she’s always so hungry,” the other replied. “I’m Junie.”

  Rogue threw his arm around Junie’s neck and drew her to his side. “Well, it’s nice to meet you all.”

  Holt glanced back at Colin who was walking by himself. Colin shrugged. “Sort of a fifth wheel here.”

  Peg turned and smiled. “Don’t worry, there’s more where we came from and besides … we don’t mind sharing.” She looked up at Holt. “If you don’t mind.”

  Holt’s stomach clenched. He couldn’t wait to separate that head with its dead eyes from that body of hers. He smiled. “Share and share alike, I always say.”

  It wasn’t long until they reached the marina.

  “You are on a boat?” Colin asked.

  Holt was pleased with Colin’s image of unknowing. Colin knew just as well as Rogue and himself that they were being led to Bloody Hell.

  Peg tugged Holt’s hand. “Come on. Pleasure awaits.”

  Their dinghy was large, easily large enough for eight people to sit comfortably. Peg sat at the controls and expertly maneuvered them out into the channel. Waves broke as the wind grew stronger the further away from the docks they went, spraying over the boat.

  Holt didn’t like the way the weather was turning. Angry clouds had moved over the moon, casting the water of Lake Michigan to inky black. Holt could manage to get them back to the dock in this dinghy but not if the waves were so high that they’d be swamped. Of course, Bloody Hell was probably large enough to ride out the storm easily at its mooring. It’s just that Holt would not relish spending any more time than was needed aboard. Especially after he dispensed the vampires. He wasn’t partial to hanging around headless bodies.

  And there was his other concern.

  Ivy.

  He didn’t want to leave her handcuffed to the bed for hours on end. And there was also the maid to consider. If the maid came in to make up the room, she would find Ivy. Then all hell would break loose. Holt already knew enough about Ivy Green to know that she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut if someone found her.

  The dinghy flew across the water, the bow coming up on every wave, hesitating for a second, then plowing down into the trough. Peg laughed shrilly each time, acting as if she were a child on a roller coaster.

  Finally, Peg slowed the dinghy.

  They were approaching Bloody Hell at the stern. Holt was surprised by the boat’s size. It was a well-trimmed boat, large enough to be able to live on it comfortably for long periods of time. As Peg tucked the dinghy in at the stern, Junie threw a line up to a man on the deck.

  Ramsey, Holt thought. He must be the one who Ivy spoke about that captained Bloody Hell. Ramsey, being human, would also serve as the Clutch’s protector. Even though he would not have the unnatural strength of the vampire, Ramsey should not be underestimated. Holt knew that Ramsey might have to be sacrificed along with the Clutch but it was not the Unkindness’ practice to murder. Killing a human, no matter how vile that human was, would be just that.

  The dinghy now secured to the stern of Bloody Hell, they began to climb aboard the larger boat.

  Holt was last to board her. As soon as he set foot on deck, an odd feeling came over him. He paused and looked back toward Crystal View.

  A light flashed briefly, a mere speck in the dark, then it disappeared in the waves of the wind-churned lake. Holt frowned and waited. The light didn’t reappear.

  Funny, he could have sworn it was the bow light of another dinghy, heading this way.

  Holt shook his head and turned back to the business at hand. He was probably just seeing a reflection. He ducked out of the rising wind, down into the cabin below decks, and stepped directly into madness.

  * * * *

  Ivy was ready to throw up.

  She pressed her lips together, desperately trying to hold back what was roiling in her stomach. The little boat rolled and danced over the waves and every minute movement caused Ivy to wish she had done what she was told and stayed in Holt’s hotel room.

  Stop it, she scolded herself as she squinted against the spray of the waves. You’re stronger than this. All you have to do is get Heather off that cursed boat and get back to shore. The plan is simple and direct. Then you’ll never have to get in a boat again.

  At least she told herself it was going to be simple. The wind ripped at her, then lightening crackled across the sky. Thunder roared within seconds.

  “Looks like we may have to ask if we can ride this out on Bloody Hell,” Jerry shouted over the storm.

  “I don’t know if they’ll let us,” Ivy yelled back.

  “What do you mean? You said your sister is on that boat.”

  Ivy gripped the seat she was sitting on as the dinghy rose up on a wave. Rain pelted her, stinging her face. “The people…” The dinghy crashed down the backside of the wave, almost making her choke. She took a deep breath. “The people she’s with—I don’t know them!”

  Ivy caught a glimpse of Jerry shaking his head in the next flash of lightning. He started to say something but thunder drowned his words. “What?” Ivy yelled, leaning toward him. Without the lightning, she could barely make him out and this wasn’t the biggest of boats.

  “I said, they’ll have to let us stay. We can’t get back in this. We have to wait until it calms.”

  Ivy swiped a hand across her face. It would do no good for her to try to explain to him why she wanted to go to Bloody Hell. He wouldn’t be able to hear her over the wind anyway. She squinted into the rain and the blackness. Why were they moored so far out into the lake? This little dinghy she was on didn’t go very fast to begin with and it was even slower now that they were fighting the wind and waves. A blast of rain showered her face, taking her breath. Ivy shook her head. The dinghy pitched. Ivy tumbled to the bottom of the boat. She threw her arm over the seat, desperate for something to hang onto. “Okay God, now I’m scared.”

  “There she is!” Jerry called out.

  Ivy peeked over the side. Lights! There were lights! Her heart soared.

  A few moments later, they pulled up alongside Bloody Hell. Inching their way along the side, Jerry managed to steer the dinghy to the stern. He deftly tied a rope to a cleat on a boat that was tied to the stern itself.

  “We’ll have to climb onto their dinghy, then onto Bloody Hell,” Jerry said, reaching a hand out to her.

  Ivy wasn’t sure that she wanted to get up off the bottom of this dinghy, let alone climb across another rocking boat and on to Bloody Hell.

  Jerry flapped his hand. “Come on. You can’t just sit there.”

  He was right. Shouldering her pack, Ivy muttered a curse and grasped Jerry’s slippery wet hand, getting shakily to her feet.

  By the time Ivy climbed aboard Bloody Hell, she was almost exhausted. It was a good thing that Jerry had helped her because she didn’t think she could have done it by herself. Every surface was wet, slippery and moving. She had sat down on a bench that was built into the side of the deck and did some deep breathing to calm her stomach. It would be hard to bitch Heather out if she was going to have an uncontrollable urge to throw up over the side.

  Jerry leaned down, his feet shuffling on the deck to keep his balance as the boat swayed. “I’ll go below and tell them we’re
tied up.”

  Ivy shook her head and grabbed his arm. “Wait. Just a few minutes.” She swallowed. At least the rain had lessened. The wind wasn’t so fierce now either. The storm was passing and Bloody Hell was riding the water one hundred percent steadier than the dinghy they had come in. The boat still rocked and swayed but at least her stomach wasn’t roiling so much. She tugged Jerry’s arm until he sat down beside her. “I want to go in first. Surprise my sister, you know. Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath.” Ivy could talk now without having to yell over the wind.

  Jerry shook his head like a wet dog shaking off water and wiped rain from his face. “Alright—but I’d better get dinner out of this.”

  Ivy smiled. “You got it.” She leaned her back against the side of the boat, her eyes locked on a stairway that led down below deck.

  Okay, Ivy thought, what’s you’re next move, Ivy.

  * * * *

  Holt kept his eye on his duffel bag. He had placed it just inside the cabin by the door when they had entered. So far, no one had touched it.

  Ramsey, the so-called captain, eyed Holt warily. Holt knew he was suspect in the man’s eyes. Any male—living or undead—would be a threat to Ramsey’s station. Ramsey had his own harem going here on Bloody Hell. Though the women were dangerous and definitely cold-blooded, they were always ready if Ramsey should feel the need to get his rocks off. Vampires were very sexual, taking pleasure whenever they wanted, with whomever they wanted. And this Clutch of vampires was unique in Holt’s experience. They were all women—gorgeous ones at that.

  Holt had been a bit taken aback when he had first come down into the main cabin. If there had only been vampires present, the scene in front of him wouldn’t have fazed him a bit. But knowing that Ivy’s sister was on board…

  There had been three women writhing naked in the floor, soft moans and gasps of pleasure filling the air. The scent of sex was strong but not strong enough to cover the pungent smell of blood mingling with it. The reason that the trio gave Holt pause was that fact that one of the women was human—Ivy’s sister, Heather. He knew right away which one she was.