Page 17 of Helsing: Demon Slayer
“We’re docked,” said a voice, startling Dianne. “That means we can disembark soon.”
Dianne rolled over and sat up. Ryan, dressed in a form-fitting black T-shirt and black cargo pants, stood not far from the end of the bed in his cabin. He wore a massive backpack and a serious expression. In his right hand he clutched wadded fabric.
Dianne frowned. The events of the previous night had faded into a vague, slightly ridiculous dream. She raised both hands to her face, gingerly touching her right eye, which had been swollen shut last night. Then she ran her fingers through her tangled hair along her scalp. No tenderness or stinging resulted, but she did feel a bald spot behind her left ear. Her right knee still hurt, though she was more certain it was only a bad sprain. Even her shoulder felt okay, though she’d know more when she took off the sling.
“Your injuries are largely healed,” said Ryan, watching her. “As I said last night, the chocolate that thezonjëand her companions developed is restorative. They’ve actually been engineered with bio nanoparticles that fix damage at a cellular level. But we should still have your shoulder and your knee x-rayed to be sure.”
Dianne’s jaw fell open. She let her hands drop to her lap. “Since when has Olivia studied bio-nano-whatsit?”
Ryan shrugged. “Dunno. You can ask her when we get to Fushë-Arrëz. Here, put this on.” He tossed the fabric he’d been holding at her. “It’s been woven with harmonically tuned nanothreads to defend againstdaemonattack. Once you put it on, the nanothreads will be keyed to your personal harmonics.”
Dianne, who’d caught the item while Ryan spoke, held it up now. It was a diaphanous, white, long-sleeved tunic long-enough to reach her ankles. It didn’t look like it could stop a hangnail let alone a drugged harpy with the strength of three men.
“I’m going back to my cabin,” she said, dropping the translucent garment on the bed and standing. She squared her shoulders. “Now.”
Something changed in Ryan’s features at her declaration, something indefinable. He simply looked even more chiseled from granite, and his eyes turned frosty.
“No. You can put that tunic on by yourself or I’ll put it on you.” He took a step toward the bed and her. “You can either come with me on your own or I’ll carry you. Your choice. Either way, we’re getting off this ship now.”
The coldness in his tone sent a shiver of premonition down Dianne’s spine. Despite this, she lifted her chin and held her ground. “You can’t carry me off the gangplank. The security officers will stop you.”
Ryan tilted his head. “Are you sure about that?” he asked in a soft, menacing voice.
Six
RyansawwhenDianneunderstood the truth of his threat. She sucked in an audible breath, and her face turned pale beneath the fading bruises.
He absolutely hated doing it. But he’d run out of time, and he couldn’t risk anotherdaemonattack, not now when his harmonically charged chainmail had already absorbed so much discordant energy. It would, of course, recharge given enough time, but for now, he was vulnerable—and thedaemonson the ship would sense that soon enough once they came looking for Dianne again.
At least she hadn’t crumpled into a sniveling ball. Beneath the fear, he read her fury. She needed to find that backbone of hers for what he suspected was going to be an arduous, dangerous journey down the Dalmatian coast and into the mountains of Albania.
He checked his watch. It was almost 0800. The ship had docked in Split an hour ago. What would have happened if he hadn’t been on board when thedaemonsattacked? Would they have overcome the crew, burning through them like a raging wildfire through dry timber?
Don’t go there, Helsing, he warned himself.
Instead, he said to Dianne, “I charged your phone.” He tossed it to her. “You can call Olivia once we’re in port and somewhere safe.”
If theEliouddidn’t contact Ryan first. The harmonic activity from last night wouldn’t have reached the operations center during the attack once they left the pool deck, but they would be desperate to know what had happened, especially once Ryan’s nano system reconnected and transmitted a record of the reverberations.
Defiance sparked in Dianne’s gaze. Color returned to her cheeks. “You bet I will.” Grabbing up the protective tunic that Miró had designed for her, she stormed past him and yanked the bathroom door open before catching his gaze. “Icango to the bathroom first, can’t I?”
Well, that had worked as well as he’d hoped.
“Of course,” he said, stifling the urge to pull her out of the cabin anyway.
Five minutes later—just as he was considering banging on the door—Dianne opened it. She’d pulled the tunic on over her blouse from the previous evening. Her hair had also been neatened and pulled into a low ponytail while her face looked damp as though she’d washed it. Out of nowhere, the image of her waking in his bed a short while before, her hair tousled and her face blurry with sleep, struck him.
“What?” asked Dianne, touching her hair.
“Nothing,” he muttered and turned on his heel to open the cabin door. “Have your guest ID? We’re not coming back once we leave this cabin.”
Dianne, her eyes narrowed, pulled the lanyard with her ship’s ID out from where it had been tucked inside her blouse.
“Great,” said Ryan, gesturing for her to exit.
Dianne moved past him. Even after the evening she’d had, he still caught the faint scent of her perfume, something exotic like jasmine and rain. His nostrils flared as he inhaled. It twisted around his insides, reminding him of a different time, a different world, a different Ryan who thought that someday he’d find the girl of his dreams and build a life with her.
A world before he knew that malevolent spirits lurked, plotting the destruction of humanity.
