Page 8 of My Boyfriend Bites (A Moonstruck Mating #3)

Frightening Titillating visions of my journey evening.

As Dante returned to his room—his nocturnal jaunt down to the crew section of the ship less than fruitful since the three traitors he’d located claimed under his mesmerizing spell they knew nothing of the attack date—he found himself deep in thought.

Not about the task he’d set himself to stop pirates, but Selene. How she’d come into his life unexpectedly and completely blown him away. He’d never been one to believe in love at first sight or that bullshit about there being a perfect someone just waiting for him. With his secret, he didn’t dare trust. His mother had, and it almost killed her.

But with Selene, someone with her own big secret, he might have found the one person who could handle his proclivity. Speaking of whom, as he exited the elevator, he noticed her in the hall, about to enter her cabin.

“Out partying?” he stated as he strode in her direction.

She startled and whirled, her body tensing. “Actually, just enjoying some night air while stretching my legs.”

“I would have thought you’d be sleeping after the day you had,” he replied as he stopped a pace from her.

“You’d think so, but it left me wound up. I needed to release some stress. And you? Were you downstairs dancing?”

He grimaced. “Perish the thought. I don’t enjoy that techno stuff they like to play.”

“Ditto. I prefer a melody that isn’t all bass and some actual lyrics.”

His lips quirked. “I thought we’d have to be older before we complained about music.”

“I’d say we have good taste. So what were you doing?”

“Visiting the engine room.” He offered a partial truth. He had gone down to that noisy and smelly place but only to question the crewman in cahoots with the soon-to-be-boarding thieves.

“Guess that explains the grease mark.” She reached out to brush her fingers against the dark spot on his jacket.

“Rennie is going to murder me,” he joked.

“He does your laundry?”

“No, this is his coat. I only brought one and was saving it for our dinner.”

“Speaking of dinner, you do realize tomorrow is Valentine’s Day?”

“And?” he asked, leaning against the hallway wall.

“Thought I should mention it since dinner will most likely be some kind of overdone feast of hearts and other kitschy things.”

“Not a fan of commercialized holidays?”

Her nose wrinkled. “More like not a fan of a day that celebrates romance when, in truth, it should be something couples indulge in whenever possible.”

“Does this mean you won’t be my Valentine?”

“Depends. Do I have to get you flowers and chocolate?”

He chuckled. “I think I’ll survive. Am I to assume no teddy bears or red lingerie for you?”

The comment arched her brow. “Lingerie might be a bit much for a first date.”

“And a waste since I’d rather see you naked.” A bold statement that brought color to her cheeks and an increase in her heart rate.

“You’re assuming we’ll get that far. I’m not a girl who puts out because a guy flirts and buys me dinner.”

“Whereas I am not a man who would invite just anyone to dine with me.”

“Don’t like eating in front of people?”

“Not much of a people-person to be honest.”

Her head tilted. “I find that surprising.”

“Why so?”

“Because you were the one to approach me.”

“Only because you are special.”

“Nice line. Does it work often?” her sarcastic rejoinder.

“Not a line. You are intriguing. A woman with secrets I dare say.”

“Priceless from the guy I suspect is hiding things,” she countered.

“You can’t expect me to reveal all when we’ve just met. We must get to know each other if we’re going to trust. Something I hope to forge at dinner. Or should we start now with a nightcap?”

“I don’t drink, remember?”

“We could have a snack instead.”

“Why do I get the impression your idea of a snack isn’t food but me?” she asked, her lips lilting.

He couldn’t help a wide smile. “Can you blame me? You are more tempting than any concoction the finest chef can conjure.”

“How tempting?” she teased.

He’d crossed the hall, intent on kissing her, when Renard opened the door and stuck his head out. “Excuse the interruption, sir, but you are urgently required on a business matter.”

Almost did Rennie lose his life. Only seconds away from kissing Selene—and more—and the idiot cock blocked.

Dante would have spoken sharply but for the tight line between Rennie’s brows. His man wouldn’t have intruded without reason.

“A moment, please, Rennie, while I bid the lady goodnight.”

“Yes, sir.” Renard closed the cabin door, and Dante turned to Selene.

“I hope you can forgive me. It would seem we must wait until dinner after all.”

“Is everything okay? Renard seemed most perturbed.”

“He takes our work very seriously.”

“Then I guess you’d better go.”

Was it him, or did she seem reluctant to part? Rennie better have a good reason for disturbing their tete-a-tete.

“I look forward to our date.” He lifted her hand and pressed his lips firmly to the inside of her wrist, feeling her shaky inhalation and the spike of her pulse.

“What time?”

“Shall we say six?” The earliest he dared after sundown.

“Okay. Bye.” She entered her cabin, and he huffed a long breath.

Tomorrow’s dinner seemed so far away.

He entered his suite to find Rennie sitting at the dining table, a pair of laptops open. One showing cameras, the other full of writing, more specifically ship communiques.

“What is it?” Dante snapped, a little harsher than he meant.

“There’s a problem on board.”

“What kind of problem?” he asked, bracing a hand on the back of Rennie’s chair to peer over his shoulder at the screen.

“Missing passengers. The first one seems to have disappeared a day after we left port.”

“And you came to this conclusion how?” Dante queried.

“Not easily, and I could be wrong. But here, look.” Rennie pointed to a message. “This is from a cleaner on level eight. Says cabin 8002, registered to one Mack Loomis, hasn’t been disturbed since they left port. There’s a suitcase in the room, partially unpacked. Toiletries in the bathroom, but the bed hasn’t been touched.”

“So that person got lucky on day one and is bunking elsewhere.”

“Perhaps,” Rennie stated. “Only their wristband isn’t showing any activity since the last drink ordered at ten seventeen p.m. the evening of our departure. No more drinks. No opening of doors. Nothing.”

“Perhaps he fell overboard, and no one noticed.”

“Could be, only there is another suspiciously missing passenger. Cabin 7227. Meredith Bennett. Her wristband last shows her entering her suite the following day around nine p.m. Then nothing.”

“People do hook up on cruises,” Dante noted.

“They do, but they also leave a trail. I’ve had our software scanning for their images, but as of yet, nothing past those times. Then there’s this.” Renard pulled up surveillance footage of the cabanas lining the walking track. The time stamp of four oh three p.m. matched the slanting sunlight. Dante noticed people going in and out of the lounging huts, the sped-up playback making them almost comical in their movements.

“What exactly am I looking at?”

Renard pointed his finger to a specific tent pavilion. “Keep an eye on this one.”

At five thirty-seven p.m., a young man in swim trunks entered the cabana and pulled the drapes. The image glitched at six oh seven then again at six twenty-one. Renard muttered, “Keep watching,” as he sped up the footage. The sun set, and while darkness fell, soft lights kept the track lit. The man in the cabana didn’t emerge, nor did anyone enter. Rennie didn’t pause the footage until someone walked past the enclosed space, stopped, and then drew back a curtain for a peek.

“That’s Selene,” Dante muttered. She entered the space for a moment, and his fists clenched as jealousy reared its green head. She’d met another man.

She exited quickly, her expression taut as she hurriedly walked away.

So not an assignation.

“Why is this important?” Dante asked.

About fifteen minutes after her departure, the screen glitched again, for only a few minutes. When the feed returned, the cabana drapes were wide open, the day bed within lacking its mattress.

Renard swiveled to eye Dante. “That man we saw enter, Barry Smith, hasn’t been seen, and his wristband hasn’t registered since he procured that cabana. Not to mention those glitches in the camera? Not actual glitches. The video feed was wiped in both instances.”

“Someone hiding something,” Dante murmured.

“You know how we’ve been waiting for the pirates to bring trouble? It is my professional opinion that trouble, AKA a murderer, is already on board.”

“This could be just a coincidence. Cameras malfunction. People act differently on vacation.”

“I know you’re eager to bang Selene, but get your head in the game.” Pause. “Sir.”

“You really think the threat we’ve been hunting is already on board?”

“I do. I think they embarked with the rest of us and will use the diversion of the pirates to make their escape or, at the very least, mask their actions.”

“Meaning we must work fast to locate them.” Dante paced away from Renard. “The camera hiccups not only indicate they didn’t want to be seem but that they have the same access as us to footage.”

“Yes.”

“Can they tell we’re also watching?” Everywhere Dante went, Renard hacked security cameras to wipe anything that might give a hint about his “special” nature.

Renard shrugged. “Maybe? I’ve been very careful to not leave a trace in the network. However, I wasn’t expecting someone else to be spying, so who knows if they’ve spotted our actions?”

“Do you think it’s a vampire?” he asked. Oddly enough, while he could scent other preternatural, like lycans and whatnot, he couldn’t detect his own kind.

“Certainly sly enough to be one, given the way they’ve covered their tracks thus far. I do find it odd your girlfriend might have seen a body and not reported it.”

“Not really that odd. After the day she had in the jungle, she most likely didn’t want to draw more attention to herself.”

“Should I go check out the cabana?” Rennie asked, standing from his chair.

“Not sure there’s a point. The scene has been cleared,” Dante stated, but he rubbed his chin as he mused aloud. “I wonder if the person responsible for these disappearances registered as a guest or is part of the crew.”

“A crew member would have access to passenger information and most of the ship.”

“So do we,” Dante pointed out. “At the same time, a crew member would be expected to work, and my understanding is their hours are long, leaving not much time for extracurricular killing. Any commonalities between the missing people?”

“Nope. One female, two males. Ages ranging from twenty-two to fifty-four. Different cruise packages. All of them are from different states.”

“But something about them drew this person’s attention. I wonder if the other cruises had the same slow passenger bleed. We assumed those that came up missing after the pirates departed with their loot were taken or killed at the time of the theft and dumped overboard, but what if the disappearances happened up until that point?”

“With no one noticing?” Rennie sounded skeptical.

“You mean the same way no one seems alarmed at it happening on this ship? Yes, there is a note by housekeeping mentioning the oddity, but no general alert, no effort to locate them.”

“Could be intentional. Seems to me the captain would want to avoid causing any panic.”

“Who else other than the captain might know about this?” Dante mused aloud because the woman in charge of the ship had proven elusive thus far.

“Chief of security for sure,” Renard stated.

“Guess I’m going back out then.” Dante shed the jacket he’d stained and handed it to Renard. “Apologies for the grease mark.”

Rennie scowled. “My favorite coat.”

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“Or you could listen to me next time I tell you to pack more than a dinner jacket,” grumbled his assistant.

“You know I prefer to pack light.” Dante kept the dark silken polo shirt but unbuttoned it to his naval. He also changed his shoes from squeak-free runners to loafers. He slicked back his hair and tucked in his shirt hem. “How do I look?”

“Like a manwhore on the prowl.”

“Excellent. Now while I’m flirting with the head of security”—a male in his thirties with a taste for bondage—“do me a favor and keep an eye on Selene.”

“Worried the possible killer will come after her?”

“Yes. After all, this person seems to have access to the security cams, which means they might have seen her snooping in the cabana that got cleared. She could be a target.”

“I’ll keep an eye.” Rennie glanced at him. “You really intend to marry her?”

“I’d ask her tomorrow if I thought she’d say yes.”

“She’s a nice woman.”

“Glad you approve.”

“How do you think she’ll react when she finds out you’re a vampire?”

“Hopefully by not staking me.”

Dante left the cabin, giving a fleeting glance at the door across from his. Had Selene gone to bed? Did she think of him? Would she be safe? Never mind the fact she would most likely tear out the throat of any threat. He couldn’t help but worry. At the same time, he couldn’t be distracted with thoughts of her, not when he had to be charming and suave.

The security office remained open at all hours, but its chief officer would be off shift at this time. A good thing Dante knew where they liked to hang at night.

Maurice Bonaparte mingled in the piano bar on a lower level. A man of dark skin, his pate shaved bald, he wore an open-to-the-waist royal blue silken shirt tucked into snug leather pants. He drank water in contrast to the young bleary-eyed fellow flirting with him.

With the fellow completely inebriated it didn’t take much of a mental push to have him stagger off muttering, “Gotta take a piss.”

Dante made his way to the stool by Maurice and ordered a drink. “Whisky, no rocks,” he ordered. The bartender scanned his wristband and nodded. Dante leaned against the bar and whispered, “Hello, handsome.”

Maurice stiffened mid-sentence before turning, his puzzlement turning into a wide smile. “Well, hello there.”

Dante kept his gaze locked with the other man as he purred, “You’re the head of security.”

“I am.” Maurice puffed his chest.

Dante let his glance dip to his groin before murmuring, “How disappointing. I expected cuffs.”

“I keep those in the bedroom,” the other man offered with a leer.

“What else do you keep in there?” Dante asked, trying not to cringe. He knew the flirting was a charade yet still felt strangely off-put by it. This kind of teasing should be reserved for Selene only.

“Come with me and I’ll show you my toybox.”

“Lead the way, handsome.”

Maurice wasted no time leading him down to the crew quarters. As head of security, he didn’t have to share a cabin, so the moment the door closed, Dante could act.

The second Maurice tried to grind against Dante, Dante barked, “Sit down.”

Maurice slammed his ass to the floor, taking the suggestion very literally.

A serious-faced Dante crouched before him. “How many passengers are missing on the cruise?”

“None.”

“Are you sure?” Dante prodded.

“We thought we had a woman get kidnapped on a tour today,, but her bracelet shows she entered her room after dinner sometime, so the passengers who claimed it must have been confused.”

“And you’ve had no other reports?”

“No.”

“What happens if you suspect someone has gone missing?”

“I tell the captain,” Maurice stated in a monotone.

“And what does he do?”

“ She ,” Maurice emphasized, “would put out a general message asking that passenger to report to guest services. If that person doesn’t show, then the protocol is to have us perform a search of the ship as well as go through security footage.”

“And if that person still can’t be found?”

His brow knit. “We try and trace their movement on the ship, although, usually, if they’re still missing at that point they’ve either remained ashore in a port of call or gone overboard. If the latter, then the coast guard is contacted.”

“What do you know of pirates?” Dante asked on a lark.

Maurice smirked. “They wear eye patches.”

“Have you heard they’re targeting cruise ships?”

“Yeah, someone was saying one of our rivals got hit a few weeks back, but when I asked the captain, she said it was bullshit.”

This interview wasn’t getting any answers, so Dante finished it. “You’re going to sleep and forget we met. As far as you recall, you began to feel ill at the bar and decided to go to bed early.”

Maurice said nothing, just rose and fell face-first onto his bed.

A waste of an interview, although he did discover cruises didn’t pay as close attention to passengers as expected. Dante left and headed back for his level, only to ignore his door and stare at Selene’s. Was she still up?

Only one way to find out. Just as he prepared to knock, he heard her talking, “Hey, Mom, cruise is going well. How’s the farm and my bunnies?”

He let his hand drop. Time enough tomorrow to continue the slow seduction.

A Valentine’s Day he planned to make memorable.