They had covered most of the West Side piers when they finally encountered a retired sanitation worker who ran a twenty-one-foot cruiser out of City Island. He had heard a rumor that about a month ago, a guy's fifty-seven-foot wooden ketch disappeared from its mooring at the Miramar Yacht Club in Sheepshead Bay. The missing ketch caused a big commotion.

Rogue showed some animation as he said, "Boaters in the area said it was there one minute, gone the next. The marina called the owner-"

Cormac broke into Rogue's narrative to say, "He runs a tire store in Hempstead. Name of Ahmed Saud."

"-who didn't want them to even look for it. Said he sent somebody to take it out. Two days later the ketch-"

"It was named the Petrel" Petrel" Cormac interjected, now beginning to annoy the bigger man. Cormac interjected, now beginning to annoy the bigger man.

"-was back in its berth. Same thing. The mooring was empty one minute, and the next thing the sailboat was back. n.o.body saw it coming into port. One yacht owner said there was a mist or cloud, and a few minutes later he noticed the Petrel Petrel had anch.o.r.ed in its slip as if it had never gone." Cormac opened his mouth. Rogue glared at him. had anch.o.r.ed in its slip as if it had never gone." Cormac opened his mouth. Rogue glared at him.

"We're going to track down the owner and talk to him," Rogue finished up.

"So are you suggesting that this incident with the ketch was a practice run?" J asked.

"Could be."

"There's a world of difference between a fifty-seven-foot sailboat and an eight-hundred-seventy-two-foot aircraft carrier. However, you might be onto something. If that was a rehearsal, there might have been another one. With a larger ship. Check into incidents involving barges or cargo freighters."

"Right," Rogue said.

"Audrey?" J asked. "You have anything to report?"

Audrey hesitated, clearing her throat. "I don't know if what I found is relevant, but it's interesting, you know? I was doing an online search fooling around, focusing on the Middle East. I was looking for an ent.i.ty or a group having taken something of ours and wanting something else in exchange in order to give it back. You follow me so far?" She looked around. I nodded and so did the others.

"What I found sort of surprised me. Remember when Iran captured fifteen British sailors in March 2007? It was headline news at the time. Iran claimed the British had trespa.s.sed into their territorial waters. It was pretty clear from the start that the sailors were over a mile from Iran's boundaries. Britain even produced satellite photos of the sailors' position to prove it.

"Two weeks after Iran took the prisoners, following some very secret talks back and forth between Iran and Tony Blair, Iran released the sailors unharmed. Britain carried out no retaliation. The U.K. didn't even demand sanctions against Iran. Outside of some meaningless bl.u.s.ter, Blair and his government basically hushed up the incident, buried it as quickly as possible. Why? What was it all about? I found it baffling." She looked at all of us again.

"Then I found the key to the whole incident!" Audrey's voice rose and her face lit up. She glanced down at her notes. "Listen to this. In February, a month before the taking of the sailors, an Iranian diplomat-his name was Jalal Sharafi-was s.n.a.t.c.hed off Baghdad's streets by men in Iraqi defense force uniforms. Immediately Iran blamed the U.S., made all kinds of threats. They really jumped up and down in the press about it. The U.S. vehemently denied having anything to do with it.

"Now, here's the fun part. After Iran released the British sailors, Mr. Sharafi was spotted at his home in Tehran. Isn't that neat?" She smiled at us.

Cormac shook his head. "I don't get it."

"It's so devious it's brilliant," Audrey said. "See, I think British forces disguised as Iraqis took Mr. Sharafi. It's not unusual, by the way. Our people-Delta Force, maybe CIA people, you know-do it too, almost routinely. We kidnap a diplomat and question him. 'Does Iran have nuclear weapons? Are they developing them?' That kind of thing.

"Now, the Iranians knew from the start that intelligence operatives from the West s.n.a.t.c.hed their diplomat. There were plenty of eyewitnesses to the kidnapping, and not a lot of Iranians are blonds, as at least two of the perpetrators were.

"Iran blamed America, naturally, but somehow-I wouldn't be surprised if our emba.s.sy told them-they found out British intelligence forces had carried out the abduction. A month later Iran found an opportunity to take the fifteen British sailors into custody. It gave them the bargaining chip that they used to secure Sharafi's release.

"The public had no clue what was going on. The way the media reported the seizing of the sailors, it seemed as if the Iranians were just acting crazy. Sure they were. Crazy as foxes!"

"Okay, I see that," Cormac agreed, leaning back in his chair like Rogue always did, crossing his arms across his chest, and stretching his legs under the table. The trouble was, Cormac was shorter than Rogue. Only his head poked up above the tabletop. It was comical. Something was definitely lost in translation. "But how is all that relevant to the Intrepid Intrepid going missing?" he challenged her again. going missing?" he challenged her again.

"It's the same thing," Audrey insisted.

"Hold on there, girlfriend," Benny said. "You're sounding one can short of a six-pack, if you catch my drift."

"I mean," Audrey said, "somebody took the Intrepid Intrepid because we took something of theirs." because we took something of theirs."

"Well, now, it must be a mighty big something," Benny said, still skeptical.

"Actually, Audrey may have a point." J took over the conversation. "As I informed you all, we have had a communication that may relate to the Intrepid's Intrepid's disappearance. It came through our emba.s.sy in Pakistan. An international cricket star named Shalid Khan has asked to meet with U.S. intelligence officials when he arrives in New York City tomorrow. He says it has to do with returning a national treasure." disappearance. It came through our emba.s.sy in Pakistan. An international cricket star named Shalid Khan has asked to meet with U.S. intelligence officials when he arrives in New York City tomorrow. He says it has to do with returning a national treasure."

Audrey's brown eyes sparkled. "I told you!"

"Here's his photo. It's a Reuters press photo taken at a fund-raising gala for a hospital charity." He pa.s.sed out some eight-by-ten glossies. "As to what the communication concerns, let's not leap to any conclusions," J warned. "But the director of our agency must be thinking along the same lines as Audrey, since the message has been pa.s.sed on to the Darkwings.

"One of you is to meet with Mr. Khan. Audrey, you would be perfect to take the a.s.signment. We'll set it up and let you know when and where. There's only one problem," J added.

"What's that?" Audrey asked.

"To the best of my knowledge-and that's after talking to our people and the officials of the other intelligence agencies-we do have some 'persons of interest' from the Middle East in custody at the moment, but none of them is important enough to warrant an operation of the magnitude of stealing the Intrepid Intrepid."

"So what do they want?" Audrey asked.

"That's what has everybody nervous," J said. "Maybe they want us to empty Gitmo. Maybe they want a troop pullout from the Middle East. Your job is going to be to find out who's behind this, and then learn what they're really after."

The meeting finished up. Audrey was like a kid about to get a pony as she antic.i.p.ated meeting with Shalid Khan. She chattered to Benny. She bounced around in her chair. Her energy level exhausted me just looking at it.

J's mandate to the rest of us was to keep trying to find the ship. Fat chance of that happening Fat chance of that happening, I thought.

Before we dispersed I ducked into my office to retrieve the Bloomingdale's bags. They sat undisturbed where I had stashed them. But the computer was back on my desk as if it had never been moved. I was impressed by the layer of dust on the keyboard. It was subtle, but it showed some nice attention to detail.

I came back out into the meeting room, my hands laden with packages. It was going to be awkward to tote them down to Lucifer's Laundromat, the vampire club on Second Avenue in the East Village. But Audrey, a well-entrenched regular, said she'd get the bartender to put them behind the bar while we were there.

We all decided to start the evening at the club, then plan our next moves. The boys had their toys with them-in other words, Cormac and Rogue were still riding their Harleys-but this time Benny said she'd join me in a taxi. The men on bikes went roaring down Fifth Avenue while we flagged a Yellow Cab. Audrey was coming along with us too. She definitely wasn't dressed for riding b.i.t.c.h.

As we settled ourselves in the backseat, with Benny in the middle, I leaned forward and said to Audrey, "You're not in the right clothes for team blood hunting, but you look fabulous. What designer are you wearing?"

"Juicy Couture. Their summer collection. Isn't it precious?"

"It looks terrific on you," I said.

She grinned. "Thanks. And believe me, I can hunt in this. It's a mini. Great range of motion. I am absolutely famished, so I intend to win tonight."

With that my own stomach rumbled. I had drunk another pint of type O negative from my refrigerator stash before I left the apartment. After my "donation" to Darius, the pint didn't leave me feeling sated. I should have drunk two, I guessed. And as my thoughts turned to Darius, I felt anxious about getting back home as early as I could. If I hadn't promised Benny I'd help her, I would make up some excuse to leave and be on my way back already. All I could think about was being with him.

No, experience had not been a good teacher. I had been avoiding the truth. Now I had to face facts. You don't get to choose whom you love. And I had blindly, wildly, unreservedly fallen in love with Darius. It was the kind of love that happens once in a lifetime. For me, in a very long lifetime, it had happened just twice. First, nearly two hundred years ago, I had felt this way about George Gordon, Lord Byron. Now, from the day we met, it had been Darius who commanded my heart.

It was unlikely I would ever feel this way again. Like Oth.e.l.lo, I loved not wisely, but too well.

And love was a terrible paradox for me-for everyone who has ever loved, I suppose. Alone I had been an independent creature, proud of my ego, certain of myself, even when I didn't admire my behavior very much. But with this kind of love the self was submerged into another's being. At worst, this love was a voluntary servitude. At best-and by that I mean at its deepest, most powerful-love became eternal submission. The beloved's wishes meant more than one's own. The beloved's life was worth sacrificing one's own. Without the beloved's reciprocation nothing mattered. One fell into a h.e.l.l of one's own making more agonizing than any other torment.

And one of the truisms about love was that women and men both felt as though they must bind themselves to their beloved, two as one. They willingly gave up their freedom. For their lover, they forsook all others, even family, even friends. Betrayed their king. Gave up their crown. Think Romeo and Juliet. Lancelot and Guinevere. Tristan and Isolde. King Edward and Wallis Simpson. Darius and me.

I had fought the inevitable long enough. I took a deep breath. Confession time.

"I have something to tell you," I announced.

The last time I said those very words, we were also all together in the backseat of a New York Yellow Cab. Then I had asked Benny and Audrey to be bridesmaids in my wedding-to St. Julien Fitzmaurice. I inwardly cringed at that, for while I had been very fond of Fitz, I had not been in love with him. What I was about to tell my friends would sound vain and fickle. Never mind. I plunged on.

"I'm back with Darius. At least, I think I am."

That bombsh.e.l.l meant nothing to Audrey; she had never met my ex. But it landed like an IED on Benny. Among the many slights and offenses she ascribed to him, Benny blamed Darius for vampire hunters exterminating our teammate Bubba Lee. I could tell she wasn't exactly jumping up and down with joy at my news.

"Since when?" she demanded.

"Last night," I replied.

Benny turned to Audrey with a jerk of her shoulder that eloquently stated her pique at me. "Now, you don't know him, Audrey, so let me tell you something. This here Darius, he's a snake in the gra.s.s. An ungrateful snake too, as if being an ordinary rattler, poisonous as can be, ain't hardly enough."

"You're kidding." Audrey poked her head around Benny's big Texas-style hair so I could see her. "Is that true?" she asked me.

I shrugged. "Not exactly."

Benny swiveled her head in my direction. She was spitting like a cat. "Don't you dare call me a liar. Let Audrey make up her own mind." She showed me her rigid back and faced the vampire librarian-turned-fashion model to make her pitch for Darius as a no-account, two-timing, double-crossing hound dog. I didn't like it much.

"Here's what happened," she said. "This Darius? He was a Navy SEAL who got into the intelligence end of things. And we was all after the same terrorists here in New York City. This wasn't all that long ago, either. Things got rough toward the end of the mission, a firefight out in New Jersey, and Darius, he got shot bad. Daphne... well, she had already gone gaga for him. I give it to you that he's good-looking and s.e.xy as all get-out. But, honey, pretty is as pretty does, my mama always said.

"Daphne was right there when he took the bullet, and she saved his sorry life by giving him the kiss of death. She made him an immortal, and what did he do? Thank her? Uh-uh. He dumped her. He hated her for making him a vampire, and that's the truth."

She looked back at me again, her eyes snapping with anger. "Now, don't you go denying it either." She turned back to Audrey.

"Then he formed a rock band which he went and called-get this-Darius DC and the Vampire Project. Talk about having cojones. He hit the charts, made it big. None of us could believe it. Pretty soon he comes a-crawling back to Daphne. And she takes him back, o'course.

"So then he's getting all kinds of famous, and he asks Daphne here to go on tour with him. O'course she couldn't She'd have to quit the Darkwings, and she weren't going to do that, now, were you, girlfriend?"

"No," I said sadly, "I couldn't do that." To tell the truth, I nearly agreed to go with Darius. Benny didn't know how close I had been to quitting. But some things you don't tell even your best friend.

Benny's strident voice was ringing in my ears by now. "So what does Mr. Big Rock Star do? He goes on tour anyway with his ex-girlfriend with his ex-girlfriend, that's what he does. But before he leaves-and listen to this, Audrey-"

Audrey was was listening-with big eyes and rapt attention-to Benny's tirade. She was hearing pure, unadulterated, juicy gossip. She was eating it up, enjoying the story. I didn't exactly blame her. I slid lower and lower in the seat, feeling miserable, as Benny worked herself up for the grand finale. listening-with big eyes and rapt attention-to Benny's tirade. She was hearing pure, unadulterated, juicy gossip. She was eating it up, enjoying the story. I didn't exactly blame her. I slid lower and lower in the seat, feeling miserable, as Benny worked herself up for the grand finale.

"So this too-big-for-his-britches new vampire not only advertises who he is all over the place with Darius DC and the Vampire Vampire Project, he becomes a vampire vigilante and goes around the city biting drug dealers and such. He draws so much attention to his sorry self that vampire hunters by the dozens come here to New York, causing all kinds of problems." Project, he becomes a vampire vigilante and goes around the city biting drug dealers and such. He draws so much attention to his sorry self that vampire hunters by the dozens come here to New York, causing all kinds of problems."

Benny turned to me then with an I-told-you-so look on her face. "So he's back. And surprise, surprise, Miss Daphne Urban, so are the vampire hunters. Are you seeing a pattern here?"

I was. And Benny never knew the worst of it with Darius. He wasn't just a spy for some other agency. He had been a vampire hunter, and at one time he had been hunting me.

Chapter 9.

"Whoso in ignorance draws near them and hears the Siren's voice, he nevermore returns . . . . . . and all about them is a heap of bones of moldering men, and round the bones the skin is shriveling. " and all about them is a heap of bones of moldering men, and round the bones the skin is shriveling. "-Homer, The Odyssey The Odyssey, Book 12

A terrible misery settled over me. I'm not the only woman to have her best friend dis her current lover and much prefer an ex-boyfriend who was a great guy. But that didn't make Benny's oration any easier to listen to.

Benny had been crazy about Fitz. All my friends thought he was perfect for me-except me. He was a paragon of virtue. Maybe that was the problem. I have a weakness for bad boys, I suppose. But I had always seen the good in Darius. Benny didn't. h.e.l.l, n.o.body else did.

Okay, Daphne, my inner voice said. You're right. The rest of the world is wrong You're right. The rest of the world is wrong.

d.a.m.n straight, I answered myself. And someday I'll prove it too And someday I'll prove it too. I was getting p.i.s.sed at my rational, reasonable doubts.

As we disembarked from the cab at the vampire club, I noticed Audrey looking at me hard, with pity, as if she were thinking what a weak, foolish creature I was. She should be thinking, There but for the grace of G.o.d There but for the grace of G.o.d... She'd find out the hard way. Most women did.

I held my chin up a bit higher as we entered the dimly lit interior of Lucifer's Laundromat. Cormac and Rogue already had a table, which was actually a Whirlpool dryer surrounded by high stools.

Audrey waved at them before taking my Bloomie's bags from me and heading for the bar. She looked like a million bucks. I glanced down at my old jeans and black T-shirt. I looked like a grunge rocker from Seattle.

Benny, still radiating righteous indignation, marched over to the male team members and announced, "Listen up, y'all. Daphne has hooked up with Darius again. Probably because of him, the vampire hunters are back in the city. Daphne was already attacked. And we're all going to get stakes in our hearts if'n we don't watch out."

I came up behind her, ready to give my side of the story.

Rogue, who had joined the team just weeks ago for our previous mission, didn't know about Darius any more than Audrey did. The world-worn biker sat at the table, his weight on his elbows. He picked up a shot gla.s.s filled with whiskey and dumped the contents down his throat. Then he picked up a beer bottle and chugged it. After he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, he said, "Personally, I don't give a s.h.i.t about who she's sleeping with. The poor schmuck has my sympathy if she has her claws in him. But what's he got to do with vampire hunters?"

"Nothing!" The word exploded from my mouth.

Benny countered, "Oh, yes, he does. He must have. He's back, and Daphne got attacked the other night. And Martin's missing. I think they got him. I think... I think... I'm afraid... he's dust." Her voice crumbled and she started making soft crying noises.

Aha! I suddenly understood Benny's hard-line att.i.tude toward Darius.

"I liked Darius," Cormac said to no one in particular.

"Let's ask around about Martin," I suggested, touching her lightly on the arm. "Maybe he just left town."

The tears ran down her face. "I did that. I asked. He was supposed to lead his team last night. He never showed up. The hunters got him; I jist know they did."

Rogue rolled his eyes, tipped his bald head back, held the beer bottle above his mouth, and caught the last few drops on his tongue.

"Benny, calm down," I said. "Think about it. The vampire hunters haven't come after anybody but me. I'm sure he's all right. Did you try going to his apartment?"

Benny sniffed. "No. I... I felt foolish. What if... what if I did and he was with somebody, you know? He'd think I was chasing him. I jist couldn't."

My thoughts exactly, but I wasn't willing to voice them. Benny was upset with me as it was, and her rejection and hostility hurt more than I imagined they would. "AH right. Tell you what. Let's go together over to Martin's. All of us."

I gave Rogue and Cormac a look that said I expected them to go along with this. "Then, if he's there"-I turned back to Benny-"he'll see right away it's all of us and it will take the pressure off you."