Human Interaction (6 page)

Meat released a long sigh. "There were people disappearing from the club, rumored to be sold into slavery in some foreign country. I was investigating. My side job as a PI," he added when I shot him a look. "Local police begged a favor. Since the disappearances happened at my club, I volunteered to help."

"I thought you were a dancer?"

"That's my full time job. My PI stuff is a part time business, mainly as a hobby than for extra income."

"Wait. Slavery? If that's the case, why are you two here?"

"Rotten luck." Ducky grumbled.

"What? You think slavery is limited to women?" Meat shook his head.

He had a point. I pinched myself to make sure this wasn't a horrible dream after all. No such luck. At least clothing covered me appropriately, the same for my two compatriots. That counted for something.

"One of the workers 'found'"—he did the air quotations—"you groggy and assisted you out of the club. We followed."

A sudden thought hit me. "Why did you keep coming back to the table?"

The corners of his mouth curled upward. "Babe, you were prime slavery bait, but you provided some humorous entertainment, too."

A gasp escaped. I didn't know whether to be highly insulted or flattered.

"Yeah. Blonde and brainless gets nabbed every time."

Growling, I swung back to look at Dick of a Duck. "Takes one to know one."

He didn't even blink. Instead, just sat with his back against the wall, one knee drawn up, looking relaxed. Vampires must have adventurous lives and are used to these kinds of situations.

"What are you here for?" I asked.

Ducky closed his eyes and rested his head back against the metal confines. "Moral support." Deadpan.

Meat scooted forward from his sitting position against the same wall.

The sound of waves caught my attention. Now that I thought about it, the floor made rocking motions.
Oh, boy.
This couldn't be good either.

"As for where we are, I'm not sure. On a boat headed for some third world country would be my best guess." Meat glanced around our surroundings.

"Oh, no. I can't be on a boat. I get seasick." A loud metal door slamming closed above us interrupted and sealed the location idea in my mind. "Did I mention I was claustrophobic, too?" I frantically scanned the small room; metal walls surrounded us with hundreds of dark gray metal bolts binding each panel together. If I didn't know better, I would say they were beginning to close in as well.

"Why can't we do the James Bond thing, pull some saw thingy out of a shoe, and saw our way through the side?" Made sense to me.

Meat gave me a droll stare before rolling his eyes. "Because dingbat, we're in the hull of the ship. Even if we had such a device that would miraculously cut through this steel, we would take on water. Think
Titanic
."

"Oh."

Ducky spoke up. "Yeah. All you have to worry about is drowning. I become crispy when they open that trap door during daylight hours."

Meat nodded at him. Sympathy flashed across his features.

Whoa. I missed something here. "What? You know about his sun… allergy?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Wait!" The light bulb kicked on for me. "You know one another?"

"Again, Princess. Uh, yeah," Ducky answered.

Oh, no. No, no, no. I can't be trapped inside this dark, ever decreasing sized hole with a vampy that would love nothing more than eating cute, sweet, and innocent humans like me. Talk about unfair. Mark the calendar for this being one of those really, really bad days that I shouldn't have gotten out of bed. Well, technically I guess I didn't make it to bed to begin with.

Meat leaned in a bit closer. "You smell different."

"What?" My dander climbed a bit higher. "I haven't showered in a few hours. I spent the evening being surrounded by masses of horny women who were sweaty and wearing enough perfume to out-smell a blood meal plant. I was drugged, my head is throbbing, the world still spins, and I may hurl at any second. Stinking is the least of my problems." I ended my tirade then opted to add one more thought, "Besides, I think I have to pee and soon."

"Shhhhh. I'm trying to make out what they're saying." Meat looked over at Ducky. "Can you determine the language?"

"Oh, I speak fish. Maybe that will help! Here fishy, fishy! Here fishy, fishy! Talk to me, fishy." Did I mention I lose a bit of touch with rational thinking when life throws kidnappers, a boat, and a cranky vampire in my path?

A large hand smacked me across the nose. "Ow!"

Ducky's gaze bored into mine, frustration radiated across his face. "Shut that up or I'll have you for a midnight snack. I'll save my sanity, my hearing, and have a full stomach all at once."

Did that mean he hadn't forgiven me for accidentally knocking him down and making an ouchie of his knee?

Meat interceded. "Okay, enough. Let's put our heads together and figure out a plan to get out of this. What are our assets?" He glanced from me to Ducky.

"I can suck them dry." That from the vampy. "And moral support, of course," he chipped in.

I frowned at that declaration. "Oh, jeez. Now there's a nice thought."

Ducky sat forward, his royal blue silk shirt pulling tight over his toned chest and abdomen, leaning in to bare his teeth in my direction. "Yeah. And, what do you have to offer, Princess?"

I looked up at Meat, met his eyes. Not sure if I should fess up, I chewed my lip in indecision. What if they held it against me? Told the other fang-possessed beings of my ability and I became a pack animal for their brethren?

Ducky leaned a bit closer in anticipation. Another loud clang broke the silence.

Considering we would probably drown or be killed, maybe it wouldn't hurt for a small secret sharing. "I can teleport."

Both their eyebrows shot up. Then Ducky ruined it with his skepticism. "And you can hit your target?"

Why do people always ask that question? Can't they just be satisfied with the fact that I can do the trick? I shrugged. "Well, fairly often."

Meat blinked. The silent treatment again.
The agony! I can't stand it!

"Okay. Fine. Basically never. But anywhere is better than here, right?" I crossed my arms over my chest for emphasis.

Ducky snorted and sat back, bracing himself against the steel wall once more. "Yeah, she would teleport us out of here and into the middle of the stinking ocean to be shark bait. Much lovelier way to expire."

"Hey! I wouldn't do such a thing." Well, not intentionally anyway. Come to think of it, I guess that was a possibility. Drat.

Meat sat silent. I could almost see the hamster wheel turning in his head. "That may come in handy later." He spoke in low tones, probably talking to himself.

Monks probably talked to themselves often, especially those vowed to silence. He more than likely debated which took the ribbon for worst situation: sex slavery or back to those bus-pulling chores at the monastery.

His phrasing caught my attention. "What do you mean later? This room is stifling already." I pulled out my shirt and fanned my chest with it. "Maybe they're going to steam us to death like lobsters?"

Ducky snarled at me. "Don't breathe so much. I think the oxygen level is getting low. In fact, if you would quit yapping, I'm sure we'd have plenty of air left."

I blinked. Surely he pulled my leg. Ships had vents. Air locks. Space between the nuts and bolts. Anxiety began to set in. What if he was right? What if we were destined to die of asphyxiation? Breathing in deep, I realized maybe Ducky had an important point. The air seemed to be thinner already. Would panting make the air disappear less quickly? I gave it a try, earning another scowl from the vamp. Perhaps breathing shallowly would save more air than breathing deeply? How about holding my breath for short intervals?

Meat's face flashed. Yep. His light bulb just went on. "This can't be the first time they have kidnapped people. We just go along for the ride until we find out where the others are. Then we can make our escape and save the others as well." He literally beamed with his intellectual answer.

Custer must have had the same smug expression right before his famous last stand. For some reason, I didn't want history to remember me shot with arrows and scalped. Oh yeah, didn't they stuff the only survivor of that battle and place him in a museum for all to see, too? A cold chill sped down my spine. Self-preservation rose. "Go along for the ride? Do you know what they do to women they have taken for slaves?" I wanted to thump the tall, broad shouldered, dark-haired man beside me in the back of the head.

"Oh, don't worry. You won't make it to slavery. In fact, I'll put money on the fact they toss you off the boat before we ever make it to port," Ducky replied.

My mouth fell open.

"Here, sharky, sharky!" Ducky taunted and chuckled.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to control the overwhelming urge to whap the meanie. Maybe I should kick the moron in the bad knee? Definitely tempting.

"Maybe you can speak shark, too?" he added before holding his gut and laughing at my expense.

Tossing my quickly unraveling braid over my shoulder, I turned back to Meat. He seemed to be working through details of that harebrained plan of his.

"What's your assets?" I asked.

His gaze dropped as he mumbled his answer. "I'm a li…" A loud clanging of metal on metal above covered his voice.

"You're a librarian? Jeez. That's helpful. What are you going to do, recite
The Taming of the Shrew
until they fall asleep from boredom?" I grouched at him.

His deep blue eyes flashed, a look of agitation crossed his face with those dark brows furrowing. "No. I said li…" It was only marginally louder this time.

The banging continued above.

"A what? A leper?" I unconsciously scooted a hair back. "How's that going to help? That will take years, if not decades to kill them." I thought a beat longer. "And
ewww
. Try not to touch me. A librarian with leprosy. Good grief."

His eyes darkened with the appearance of the severe scowl on his face. "Damn it. Liger." He peered into my eyes, leaned forward where our noses almost touched, and enunciated clearly. "As in half lion, half tiger, and one big bad kitty."

"Oh." Big bad angry kitty, he meant.

Glancing over my head, Meat addressed Ducky as he settled back into the seated position. "Is she always this dim?"

Ducky grinned back with a nod. "Actually, I would call this a brighter day. For her."

That is it. How much can a girl take in one day?
I'd been drugged, kidnapped, stuck on this smelly boat with an angry liger kitty that used to be a monk and a vampy that wants to feed me to the sharks. We were traveling to who knew where to be sold as slaves. I was hungry, hot, and halfway seasick. The room continued to shrink and the oxygen levels sank drastically to a red light warning critical level. Kitty has plans for Shy's Last Stand and the vampire was here for "moral support." I was hormonal and irritable.

I had to pee.

Standing up, I searched around the room for something metal that could be picked up.

"What are you doing now?" Ducky asked. Meat watched me, probably still envisioning his glorious plan in action.

"I have to go to the bathroom."

Meat waved his hand. "Go ahead. Over there, though."

Oh, yeah, right. Like I was going to squat in front of them. Not in this lifetime, however short it might be at this point.

Finding a rusty wrench in the far corner, I grabbed it up, heading to the only door to the room. Now, how do you say "I have to pee," in Morse code? Was it dash, dot, dot? Dot, dot, dash? Maybe dot, dot, dash, dash? Unconcerned with the particular message, I hammered loudly on the door.

The door flew open in mid-dash. A short man with dark hair and dark skin stood before me, obviously berating me in some unknown language. Gibberish to me.

I shook my wrench at him. "Look, Mr Kidnapper Person. I have to use the restroom. Now!"

He went off on another volley of words my tongue couldn't even begin to form. Come to think of it, I don't think his tongue had much to do with the sounds as they were more like grunts. No matter. Determination rushed through me. "I have to pee. Bathroom. Now." I waved my wrench again. He didn't budge. "Listen, buddy. I'm hot, I'm seasick. I'm claustrophobic. I've been kidnapped, stuck down here with these two loons. I have to pee and I have PMS."

He shut up, eyes widened as if he finally understood something I said. Stepping forward, I pushed past him. Finally.

PMS. The universal language.

I headed upstairs to a side room with pictures of the little man on the door. Relief couldn't have come a second faster. Too desperate to argue the fact that I wanted a bathroom with the person in a skirt painted on it, I accepted anything resembling a modern toilet.

I snorted. Of course, they wouldn't have any feminine hygiene products or baby changing table in here. However, the urinal posed something of an odd interest. What is that rubbery circular thingy in the bottom of it, partially covering the drain, anyway? I filed that question away for later use.

All finished, I washed up as well as possible, got a drink of water from the sink, finger-brushed my teeth and decided while I enjoyed freedom from the prison hull, I might as well take advantage of it. Peeking out the door, I found Little Mole, the nickname that just came to me, standing there tapping his foot, obviously impatient. Yeah, well. If he didn't kidnap me, he wouldn't have to wait while I was in the little girls' room.

Slipping out the door, I pointed upward to another level of the ship. He simply shook his head and pointed down.

I mirrored his motions. Down meant enclosed space, limited air, and men who saw me as a dumb blonde. All in all, entirely unacceptable. I did the universal sign of projectile vomiting and again pointed up while bobbing my head.

His eyes widened in understanding and he seemed to consider options. Finally, he grabbed my arm and yanked me down the hall. Up one more flight of stairs and we ended up on the far end of the deck. Well, not on the deck per se, but at eye level. I tried to step up, but was yanked back with another shake of the head.