Page 73 of Tin God
“And more. I was told that Henri Paulus has a network of ships that he loans to immortals who are trying to keep a low profile.”
Ben blinked. “You don’t say.”
“The ships are unregistered and move around constantly.”
“And Katya allows that?” Ben murmured.
“Hey, I don’t make the decisions.” Buck shrugged. “I suppose it’s not really a problem as long as they’re not causing trouble.”
“But Paulus has disappeared,” Ben said, “along with his boat. So where did he go, and who is in charge of his fleet?”
“That would be the billion-dollar question, because if one of them is being loaned to Zasha Sokholov and used as a base to attack the mainland, Paulus has now become a major problem.”
“Is it possible that Zasha took it and Paulson doesn’t know?”
“Possible? Yes. Probable? No idea.” Buck flipped the picture to an overhead shot of a giant marina. “This is Vancouver. Normally theDolphinwould be moored there this time of year. It’s gone.”
“And the last report about it was from crew who got in touch a couple of weeks after Zasha Sokholov came to visit?”
“Yeah.” Buck clicked to another grainy image of Paulson on the deck of theDolphin. “So how is Paulus involved in all this? Is he a victim or an accomplice?”
“And if he’s an accomplice, where are he and Zasha right now?”
ChapterSeventeen
Prague, 1822
Tenzin stared at the crumpled body of the human, his innards splayed on the damp grey cobblestones of a narrow street in the old Bohemian city, blood pooling beneath his body and leaking in ever-spreading rivulets between the stones.
She pulled a wool cloak around her face, hiding her features. Her cover in Prague was as the foreign wife of a rich merchant, but in the human world, fear and suspicion often found their target in unfamiliar faces.
She wore a long wool dress in the modern fashion of a wealthy married woman, the heavy fabric shielding her from the worst of the damp cold and rain in the old city. Her boots were tight and unpleasantly stiff, but they were practical for the stone streets.
She glanced up at the stone balcony and the figure with pale blond hair peering over the ledge. It appeared the man had jumped from the balcony. Or he’d been pushed. Either one was possible.
“They just keep doing this.”
Tenzin looked to her right to see a tall figure in a black cloak staring down at the body. The stranger was clearly a vampire, but Tenzin had a hard time pinpointing what type of element he wielded.
His collar was elegant and pure white—barely contrasting with his pale skin—and his neck was wrapped carefully to ward off the cold. A dark top hat made the vampire appear even taller than he already was. A hooded cape with red trim flowed from broad shoulders, the fur-trimmed collar turned up to cover most of his face.
The stranger nudged the body with the toe of his black leather boot. He was speaking German, not unusual in the old Bohemian capital. “What a shame.”
She responded in the same language, hoping her accent wasn’t too difficult to understand. “They do seem to like this type of execution.”
“Execution is a softer word than murder.”
What a curious thing to say. “Did you know him?”
His amnis was cloaked with a very heavy buffer that told Tenzin he was powerful but clumsy. Maybe young, maybe simply uneducated. It was as if a somewhat clever child had thrown a blanket over a wolf, but the animal was fighting to break free.
“I knew him.” The stranger’s voice was close to a sigh. “At least, I knew a part of him.”
She nodded. “A social acquaintance then.”
“Yes, I only knew his sexual organs.” The cloak tipped back, and a faint smile lifted the corner of beautifully curved lips. “They were quite nice.”
“Ah.” Taking human lovers was common among her kind. They were amusing pastimes, and some vampires even became attached to them.