The Eldritch Conspiracy

26

The bachelorette party was scheduled for a late start, but the dinner ran long, so we didn’t have time to change before dashing to the limo that would take us to the docks. Milena, Adriana’s best friend, was officially hosting the party even though it was being held on Adriana’s yacht. The Secret Service had derailed the original plan of renting a cruise ship and hiring caterers due to “security concerns,” which I hadn’t been privy to. Yet. So Adriana’s own crew and staff had been pressed into service.

The limo was a little crowded, what with me, Adriana, and our security—just Helen Baker for me, but a team of four, plus the driver, for the bride.

The day I’d arrived on Serenity, the harbor had been busy but not too crowded. Now … my, how things had changed. Every slip was filled and more ships were anchored offshore; their passengers and crew probably used small boats to get back and forth from the island. The landward ends of the piers, this side of the security barriers, were crawling with paparazzi and crowded with onlookers hoping for a glimpse of the princess. What a freaking security nightmare!

When the car doors opened we were buffeted by a wave of sound—people calling Adriana’s name, and even mine—and the flashes of dozens of cameras. We each gave a brief wave before the guards hustled us onto the yacht.

The sun was setting, bathing the low-hanging cirrus clouds in a blaze of reds, pinks, and purples that were reflected in the ocean. We were met on deck by the hostess and the other three guests. Adriana introduced me to Milena, a pretty redhead with lots of freckles and the most amazing amber-colored eyes. I’d wondered about Adriana’s best friend from earliest childhood and was surprised to find that she was mostly a subdued, serious woman with an acerbic wit. She soon had all of us in stitches as she detailed how she’d been followed around all day by none-too-subtle members of the world press, many of whom had offered her obscene amounts of money for the “inside scoop” and pictures from the party.

Nani and Naneka were identical twins with honey-colored hair and blue eyes. It would have been impossible to tell them apart if Nani wasn’t hugely pregnant. They were bright and cheerful, chattering away like a pair of birds. Keohi, on the other hand, was a sultry, sloe-eyed, dark-haired beauty who hung silently back, watching the others, but only rarely saying anything. When she did, it was worth listening.

Adriana noticed me watching Keohi and spoke into my mind. You are right to be impressed; Keohi is quite brilliant. She works as a marine biologist, studying the effect of oil spills on ocean ecosystems and developing natural methods to contain the spills. She went on at length, talking to me about her friend while laughing at the jokes of the others. I found it fascinating that she could carry on two entirely different conversations at once. Keohi once told me she was only able to first become published in scientific journals under a male pseudonym, because people saw too much beauty to believe she had brains.

I’d never had that problem. In the land of the Hollywood butterflies, I’d always been a useful brown moth.

But now you are royalty, Celia. A pedigree has its own beauty.

Yeah, but that’s not the sort of fame I ever wanted. Adriana looked at me curiously, truly not understanding why being royal had so little value to me.

I went back to chatting amiably by the dancing light of a string of party lanterns hung around the deck. The drinks were plentiful, the conversation excellent. It didn’t take long for the atmosphere to lull me into a sense of complacency. That’s why bodyguards are seldom guests at the party, but to hell with it. There were plenty of other guards there. I decided to have a little fun.

I discovered, to my delight, that the Michelin-star chef on Adriana’s yacht had previously worked at the secure facility where Vicki had lived for much of her adult life. He’d once made me Belgian waffles and syrup in liquid form. Today I was treated to all the same appetizers as the other guests, liquified, in a trio of chilled martini glasses. I found that both clever and touching—someone, the hostess or the chef, had taken time to think of me.

All four of Adriana’s buddies were nice, funny, intelligent women. They weren’t toadies and they weren’t anything remotely close to what I would have expected Adriana’s friends to be like when I first met the prickly princess with a huge chip on her shoulder. They were, however, exactly the kind of people I would expect to see in the company of the Adriana I was now coming to know.

We were taken well out to sea, with our ever-present escort vessels keeping a discreet distance. Equally watchful were the helicopters that passed overhead.

Adriana, are those Secret Service choppers or press?

Both. It’s the open sea, so mother couldn’t legally clear the air space. I know it’s annoying, but try to ignore it.

Easy for her to say. I kept remembering Mexico and the armed thugs who’d fired machine guns at us from overhead. I sat and smiled, drink in hand, but now I was on high alert, my former relaxation gone. That vigilance, and my vampire vision, let me see the diver drop from a helicopter as it swung low beside us, photographers in the cabin snapping telephoto pictures.

I sent a warning to Baker mentally. Diver in the water. Three o’clock off the port side. I heard her mutter something into the mic at her wrist. Almost immediately the yacht’s engines roared to life. At the sound, the women all looked around, startled. It takes a couple of minutes to get a large vessel moving from a dead stop, but the captain did the best he could. In fact, the movement as the ship set sail was so abrupt and jerky that Keohi, who had been standing, had to grab onto the table to keep herself from falling.

In the distance, the escort ships started moving in.

Adriana was pulled down to the deck by the nearest guard and thought at me in alarm, Celia, what is going on? We aren’t supposed to be heading back yet.

Stay down. A diver dropped off that last chopper. I’m pretty sure he had a PMD.

Originally developed for the military, a PMD, or Personal Movement Device, was about the size of a dinner plate and used a combination of magic and technology to allow a diver to move through the water as fast as most ships while maintaining a constant flow of oxygen. If the guy I’d seen drop off the chopper had one, he’d be here in seconds.

How could you possibly have seen…?

I shrugged as I pushed Adriana’s friends toward the cabin to get below decks. Vampire night vision comes in handy now and then. Now if you would, everyone needs to get below.

You think we’re under attack. Her mental voice sounded truly shocked. Even with everything that had been happening, she hadn’t expected this. Of course, as a clairvoyant she’d probably gotten used to having at least a hint of trouble before it arrived.

I don’t know, but better safe than sorry. Now go.

At a word from her, the four of them darted for the stairwell, holding hands and keeping their heads below the line of the upper cabin. A pair of agents materialized from the shadows and followed them. Baker appeared at my side.

“You should go inside, too.” It wasn’t quite an order, more a firmly framed suggestion.

“I’m of more use out here, Helen. I’m on duty, just like you.”

“We really do know what we’re doing,” she chided me.

“Did any of your people see him? Even those using night-vision goggles?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but remained silent when I raised my hand. I thought I’d heard the soft whump of an object impacting the ship’s hull. There was a second thump, the sound barely audible over the noise of the engines and the slap of waves against the ship. It might be my imagination, but I didn’t dare risk it.

Baker had heard it, too. We both drew guns from beneath our jackets and moved to take cover between the cabin and the built-in table. When we were concealed, she whispered into the microphone at her wrist and I saw shadows move into position around the boat.

Seconds that lasted an eternity passed as we watched and waited. A pair of wet-suited figures eased over the railing and began creeping silently forward. When they were far enough from the edge of the deck that they couldn’t simply dive over and escape, a spotlight flared to life, accompanied by the voice of authority blaring through a bullhorn.

“Freeze. Move and you will be shot.”

They froze and dropped their weapons.

Actually, what they dropped into the bright light were … cameras.