"This is Eleanor's Dream," Monty said shyly, motioning to his vessel.
The team just gaped for a moment.
"You'll have to forgive all of us," Damali said, impressed. "We aren't up on nautical terms, and didn't mean to insult you by calling what you owned a boat."
"No, shit. . ." Berkfield said with utter appreciation in his voice. "What is she, a fifty-, sixty-footer?"
Monty smiled. "Sixry-eight-feet-six. She was originally designed to sleep ten, but I had the large main deck salons cut in half to add more bedrooms since that still allowed for considerable common space, and took a little off the galley to make another small bedroom, plus added a little pullout sofa to the pilothouse so that she sleeps sixteen privately, and there's still plenty of community space on the top deck. Someone could also sleep up there--you'll see. It's very comfy, and there's tables and chairs and whatnot."
"Well, just dayum," Jose said, peering up at the double-decker, white behemoth.
"What's she got under the hood?" J.L. asked with excitement, beginning to walk down the slip.
Monty eagerly followed him, rattling off specs with Berkfield right on his heels. "Twin three-hundred-and-seventy horsepower, Yanmar-diesel V-drives, twenty-five-kilowatt Westebeke diesel generator, a-hundred-and-thirty-six-thousand-BTU Cruiseair to keep things cool. . . furnace, cable, and satellite phone equipped, gourmet galley with stainless-steel appliances. . . holds six hundred gallons of fuel, has three bathrooms. With floor-to-ceiling solar-cooled bronze glass enclosing the main deck. Oh, yes, and music ... a custom-distributed music system is also on board."
J.L. turned around with a wide grin. "You are da man!" "Did I hear you say you had sat phones and cable on board?"
Berkfield clutched his heart dramatically and swooned, making the others laugh.
"I heard gourmet galley, also known as a kitchen," Inez said, smiling.
"No--I heard three bathrooms," Juanita said, laughing, "and I've got first dibs on a shower, okaaay."
"This is what we'd always dreamed," Monty said, clearly proud. "This was going to be our floating retirement home where she and I would sail around the Caribbean, taking our friends, family, sometimes maybe allowing nice people to charter her, getting to know new people . . . having fun in our golden years, inviting the kids to come with our grands." He looked up at the yacht and then shielded his eyes as he looked up at the sky. "This is what she would have wanted, isn't that right, honey?"
Considerably sobered, the team looked at one another as Marlene walked forward and rested a palm gently on Monty's shoulder. "Thank you for sharing this sacred space with us."
Sebastian whistled while he walked back to his conjuring room. That was the thing he loved most about Hell, someone was always ready to cut a side deal to cut someone's throat. He couldn't wait until the next general council session where he could silently gloat and watch that pompous bastard, Fallen Nuit, be none the wiser that his own wife--the lovely, devastatingly sexy Lucrezia--had cuckolded him. It was too rich.
But he stopped midstride and gaped and then immediately went on guard.
"What are you doing here?" he asked cautiously, staring at the scantily clad Elizabeth. He looked around and pressed his back to the wall as she approached and then held up his hands, making claws. "Stay back! Assassinations on council are forbidden. My cauldron will tell, my, my spell books will testify!"
"Calm yourself, darlink," Elizabeth murmured, coming closer. "Vlad has lost favor . . . you are a valuable necromancer. The vagaries of fate have shifted alliances, and power is an aphrodisiac. Where have you been all this time, you naughty boy?"
Encouraged but still skeptical, Sebastian glanced around and moved closer, beginning to tremble. "I went to check on the locations of ancient graves ... I must go to Europe and raise the Berserkers tonight for Lilith."
"May I join you?" Elizabeth leaned into him, pressing her body against his, and slid her tongue up his jugular and captured his earlobe.
"Vlad will murder me."
"What Vlad doesn't know won't hurt you," Elizabeth murmured seductively in Dananu. "But I see that you've been in high demand tonight. Have you lied to me?"
Sebastian pulled back and looked at her. "I don't know what you mean."
"I smell Lucrezia on you."
Not wanting to miss this rare opportunity to bed both coun-cilwomen in a single night, he hedged with a lie. "You smell a fantasy," Sebastian said, glancing away theatrically. "You know Lucrezia would never have me . . . and I doubt you would, so please don't tease me."
"A fantasy?" Elizabeth murmured.
Sebastian motioned to his spell room with his chin. "I... made her essence to surround myself with it. Just so I could . . ." He let his words trail off, giving her as innocent an expression as he could muster. "I am humiliated that you even know."
"I am hurt that you made her essence the object of your fantasy, and not mine," Elizabeth said coolly, drawing away.
"I only did that because I fear Vlad much more than Fallon," Sebastian said quickly, holding her arm to stay her leave. "You know what he'll do to me if he finds out that I've even dreamed about you."
"Then while in the Carpathians, you and I should take a long, hot bath after we're done so he'll be none the wiser."