|
Scene #38
SEA PANTHER
December 6, 2011. Moored at Sandy Hook Bay.
Robert MacLachlan licked the corner of his mouth, where a tiny droplet of blood lingered. A precious taste. He clamped white-knuckled fingers on the wheel of Sea Panther, his ninety-foot, black-hulled sloop, allowing hatred to course through his veins along with the woman's blood.
"Cursed fool." He swore and pushed away from the wheel, away from the night view of the shore—the New Jersey clamming town with its twin lighthouse.
Coming on deck hadn't eased his torment. Not even the briny tang of the sea breeze soothed him.
Dawn neared. He retreated below to the sanctuary of his cabin.
Only on this sunrise, a lass remained.
His stomach clenched as he slid his gaze over the woman lying so still on his bunk. He curled his hands into fists, disgusted by his gluttony. Having gone too long without feeding, he'd taken too much blood. Her ashen skin, a stark contrast against the deep green velvet coverlet, a painful reminder of the animal he'd become.
Sea Panther's first mate slipped into the cabin, a syringe in hand. "Shall I return the lass to shore?"
"Aye," Robert said, unable to keep his inner turmoil from his voice.
He need not worry. Colin MacEwen knew him well. Had been his first mate and keeper for over twenty years. Tonight his faithful friend would clean up the mess.
Robert flinched as Colin inserted the needle into the woman's vein. Her eyelashes fluttered for a moment before she lost consciousness again. "Don't be too hard on yourself. She came to you willingly."
"That makes it all the worse. I should have protected her from..."
Robert paused as Colin stopped what he was doing and twisted around to stare at him. "You can't help being what you are."
There was no sign of condemnation within the depth of his friend's eyes. Yet Robert was condemned. The injustice of his life burned like acid in his chest. The need to growl, to pound his fists and beat something threatened his tenuous control.
He reached deep within himself and clamped down on his aggressive desires. "I ken. But this time I went too far."
The woman with the blue tinted hair picked him up in a singles bar. Dressed in black lace, leather and chains, she told him she wanted to hook-up with a vampire. He should have been wary.
He swallowed and allowed guilt to settle in his gut. "I dinnae understand how she kenned what I am. I ought to have stopped. Walked away. Instead, I gave her what she wanted and almost took her life. I have little emotion left. Time is running out. I must unearth a cure."
"You will, my friend. Have faith."
"Soon it will be three hundred years." A long time to be cursed with the dual natures of a predatory panther and a blood-lusting monster. Robert rubbed the ache building at the back of his neck. "I am tired."
"Has Dr. Knight made any progress?"
Hope beat in rhythm with Robert's blackened heart. The award-winning ethnologist, who specialized in Caribbean Voodoo, was the most recent addition to the staff at the scientific foundation he funded in the Florida Everglades. The world believed the assorted experts in his employ researched the endangered Florida panther. Their true objective was to find a cure for his malady. And they had better discover something soon. He doubted he had long before the darkness claimed what little remained of his humanity.
"The good doctor is diligent, searching through piles of dusty historical texts. There are a few theories. Nothing concrete." Robert released a frustrated sigh. "I realize after tonight how desperate my need has become. I must return to Florida and undergo more tests. One of those expensive scientists on my payroll had better find a cure before I destroy another human life."
Colin clasped Robert on the shoulder. "I'll see to the lass."
"Aye. And arrange to have blood delivered at each port of call. I will not risk any more innocents."
With a grunt, Colin hefted the woman over his shoulder. "I'll hand her off to our man. He'll take her to a safe house. She'll be well cared for until she recovers." He adjusted the weight of his burden. "When do we leave?"
"Tell the crew, we sail on the tide."
| 
