I placed my arms on the table and gently placed my forehead on them as if I was feeling sick. Keeping my breathing even, I subtly shifted my ears so they could focus on the conversation that our host was now having with the large man who had been setting off my flight or fight instinct all night, even though we had yet to meet face to face. After several attempts to shift my ears right to hear the conversation properly, I finally heard our host hiss, “…and now my son has taken an interest in that drunken idiot! And you won’t even tell me why they’re here, Carmichael!”

His conversation partner replied in a cold tone, “General Carmichael, and you would do well to remember that, Frost. When I asked you to invite Mr. Rojas to this party to pay him for his services…”

“Asked?!” Frost hissed, “Call it what it is, blackmail.”

“Well, if you don’t want your association with criminals to become public, then you shouldn’t have done business with them in the first place, Frost,” Carmichael countered smugly. “Relax, this will be over soon, and our deal will be done. I was hoping that Rojas would anticipate a possible trap and invite one of his contacts with a mercenary group that we are currently searching for to protect him, but it seems unlikely. A mercenary wouldn’t drink so much, and she’s young and soft. My people have been running her through facial recognition since she arrived, but she doesn’t match any of the MacArthurs’ known associates, or any mercenaries known to operate in the area. I’ll have to think of some other way to draw them out of hiding.”

“I held up my part of the deal…”

Frost was cut off as Carmichael snapped, “Yes, a deal is a deal. I’ll destroy the photos and once you can get Rojas alone to make your exchange, he’ll have an unfortunate accident.”

Fuck. So, this really was a trap for me all along. I could easily dive overboard and get away, but I had promised to be Sandro’s bodyguard, and I took that promise very seriously. I would have to keep him company during the exchange. If Frost was already being blackmailed, then he would likely try to meet with Sandro in a part of the yacht without camera coverage. Why get out of one blackmail situation to create another possible one by having someone killed where it could be filmed?

The lack of cameras would work to my advantage if I could hit them hard and fast enough. The million-dollar question was whether I could find a lifeboat or something to get Sandro safely away without being tracked while doing it. Or maybe I should try and take down this General Carmichael while I was close and had the opportunity. If he was the one in charge of hunting us down, that could throw the whole operation into chaos.

No, that would be foolhardy. Completely aside from all of the trouble that having a visiting American General murdered in Cuban waters might cause in the region, right now it would only serve to piss off both his men and his higher-ups. Better to wait to poke any potential hornet nests until we could get out of the country, or better yet, off Earth entirely.

It was better if I stayed under his radar for now and left him on the board. As long as he was in play, we had a name and a chance to track his movements and find out how much they knew about us, and where he was getting his information. That was an advantage that I didn’t want to give up unless it was an immediate life or death matter.

I had been quiet for several minutes now as I listened to the General’s conversation and considered various strategies. I was vaguely aware of Sandro sitting beside me and rubbing my back and when I focused on him once more, he still sounded concerned. “Is everything alright, Danica?”

I played it up for the cameras, which I was now certain had been put in place to monitor and assess me during the party. Mumbling something incoherent, I got Sandro to lean in close and then whispered, barely audibly with the conversations going on around us, “I need you to keep acting natural. This is a trap, for both of us.”

There was only a brief instant when he stopped rubbing my back. Probably not enough to be noticeable and he leaned in to whisper, “Are you sure?”

“Positive, I… uhh… bugged Frost during our conversation. The big guy he’s been talking to is looking for my family and blackmailed him into setting this up, hoping you’d invite one of us as protection.” I quietly conveyed.

“Mierda,” Sandro cursed under his breath.

“Once Frost gets you alone, they will try to kill you and drop your body overboard,” I whispered, pausing only to briefly speak a little louder and a lot more incoherently for a moment before returning to a whisper. “They don’t know who I really am yet, but if they find out, Carmichael there will reserve a private suite for me at Guantanamo Bay.”

If that happened, I would be in deep shit. I wouldn’t be able to hold my current transformation for more than another two hours at the most without a break and if I shifted back where Carmichael or his men could see, he would never let me go, especially with my shapeshifting ability revealed. I would be handing him everything that he wanted on a silver platter if I allowed myself to be captured.

~ Kara, are you still awake, my love? ~ I inquired of my mate along our mental link.

Her reply sounded deeply concerned. ~ I was just about to take over watching Maddie and Nat. What’s wrong, Naiya? It feels like you’re really worried about something. ~

~ Yeah, there’s a lot to worry about. ~ I replied with a grimace as I kept my face buried in my arms. ~ This party was a trap; someone was using Sandro to try to get one of us here. They have no idea who I am, but they plan to kill Sandro and things might get a little hairy here. I wanted to warn you, and I need you to give my parents and Uncle Jack a name. I think he may be the man in charge, or at least fairly high on the totem pole. General Carmichael. ~

~ A trap?! Are you sure that you’re going to be okay?! I could get Jenny to take over for Kieshala instead and Kieshala and I could come to… ~

I cut off my mate’s frantic offer with a firm, ~ No, Kara. How would you find me in time? And you would only be placing yourselves in danger of being exposed, or worse. I can’t rule out that there might be a sub or something following the yacht in case one of us decided to show ourselves. I’m working on an exit strategy. I won’t allow someone to capture me, and I’ll do my best to be careful. Just pass on the name to my parents and Uncle Jack, maybe we can use it to help turn this hunt around. ~

~ I… ~ she hesitated, but I knew that deep down she knew that I was right. ~ Fine, but you better come back to me, Naiya. The name was General Carmichael, right? Is there a description or anything else I should pass along? ~

~ He’s probably in his fifties or sixties, about six foot four and bulky, gray hair, clean shaven, and has a couple of small scars on his chin and another across the bridge of his nose. ~ I replied, giving her as much detail as I could.

~ Okay, I got it, Babe. I’m talking to them now, ~ Kara informed me.

~ Thanks, my love, ~ I told her as I summoned all of the love I felt for her and sent it along with my words. ~ I need to try to figure out a plan here before Frost comes to get Sandro for the exchange. I’ll try to keep you updated. ~

I let slip a small sigh as I tried to figure out how to get us out of this mess. I briefly considered killing whoever tried to kill Sandro, taking their clothes, throwing the body overboard, and impersonating them but that wouldn’t work for several reasons. First, this wasn’t some cheesy spy novel, and I wouldn’t know enough about any of Carmichael’s men to reliably impersonate them.

Another reason was that they were likely men. Even if I was willing to face dysphoria again by copying the shape of a man, it would be a very bad idea with my suspected pregnancy. It was why Kieshala had specifically wanted a female dolphin for me to learn to shift into one. Shifting into a form without a proper womb would endanger any fetus that I might be carrying. Once I started to show, full-form shifts would be out as well. I would still be able to change my general appearance and give myself legs if I had to, but I would have to avoid shifting my womb and the immediate area around it.

I would have to kill whoever Carmichael assigned to kill Sandro, and probably Frost as well if he stuck around. Then I would have to try to find something to get Sandro off the boat and on his way back to the city as soon as possible. I likely wouldn’t have much time before Carmichael gets suspicious about his men not returning to report that the deed is done. Moreover, I would have to try to do that without revealing my true nature to Sandro or anyone else.

I couldn’t let them get Sandro alone. If they tried to draw him off elsewhere for the exchange, I would have to make sure that I went with him. The party was confined to the aft area of the upper deck, which was where all those lovely hidden cameras were, so I figured that they would either try to take Sandro to the fore or one of the other decks. They would likely choose the main deck since throwing a body off the sun deck above us would risk calling attention to it even this late at night. My guess was they would try to get him to the fore of the main deck to avoid anyone from the party overhearing or seeing something they shouldn’t.

Sandro gently nudged my shoulder, and I raised my head. Frost was approaching, so my time to plan was up. I nuzzled closer to Sandro and silently cursed as he walked up to our table with his big fake smile. “Sandro, I hope you and Miss Holmes have been enjoying the party. I could have someone escort her to one of the guest rooms if she isn’t feeling well.”

“Nuuuuuu… I’m fiiiine. Jus’ a l’il tipshy,” I protested before giggling and gripping my date’s arm tightly. “Unlessh Shandro wants t’ come wif me.”

“Ah, yes. Well, Sandro and I have some business to complete, so if you’ll excuse us for a few minutes…”

“I wanna go wif Shandro. He ish my date,” I insisted as I clutched at his arm.

Frost’s smile was quickly giving way to a frown, as things started not going his way. Sandro quickly offered, “Danica knows about my business, and to keep my dealings secret, Señor Frost. This is just a simple exchange and won’t take more than a moment or two and then we might take you up on that offer of a guest room, to celebrate.”

I could see in Frost’s expression that he was mulling the problem over in his mind. He was the one who had insisted that they make the exchange at this party and that Sandro bring a guest. If he objected that he didn’t want any witnesses now, Sandro would get suspicious. He had also openly mentioned his business with Sandro in front of his son and two of his friends earlier. I had been there when he had done so as well, so being suddenly secretive about things now would be a huge red warning flag to someone like Sandro.

He had no choice but to let me come along if he wanted Sandro to walk into his trap. I was a massive complication though. I suspected that Frost would care less if I ended up as collateral damage, but he would very much care about the attention he would get if the daughter of a wealthy real estate mogul ended up dead or disappeared while at a party on his yacht. He couldn’t take any chances that I wasn’t who I said I was either because if I was then there would be hell to pay unless he could make it look like an accident or like I wasn’t there.

Given the impression that I had made on his other guests, the latter was unlikely, especially with the occasional selfies that I had taken and posted to Danica’s social media accounts. I had made sure that the cameras had caught me doing that too, to sell that I really was who I claimed to be. Social media is just as important for setting up a false identity in the modern world as a good fake ID since the first thing that most people look up is a person’s online presence. If you have a big enough friends list or enough followers it gives you validity, and Uncle Jack had hundreds of fake accounts to do that.

Frost gave in and led us away from the party and the cameras therein. As I had suspected, we were led down to the main deck and were making our way toward the fore of the ship along the starboard side. I clung to Sandro and occasionally stumbled, using one such occasion to remove the Beretta PX4 Storm Compact from my thigh holster. Once I could no longer spot any cameras and was able to confirm with my other senses that we were alone in the hallway, I pressed the gun into Frost’s back.

“If you try to do anything but answer my questions honestly, I’ll know, and you will regret it,” I stated coldly. “There’s no briefcase full of money waiting for Sandro, is there?”

“Wha...”

His surprised exclamation was cut off as I dug the barrel of my weapon further into his back. “Answer the fucking question, Frost.”

“No, I…” he started to reply as his right shoulder shifted ever so slightly.

I grabbed his shoulder with my free hand, squeezing hard enough that I could feel the bone starting to give and causing him to scream in pain. “Sandro, he’s got a concealed weapon, please relieve him of it,” I told my large companion calmly. Only once he had taken the concealed Colt 45 from our host did I stop squeezing. “You were about to tell us that it was a trap?”

“Yes!” he screamed, nodding frantically as I gave his shoulder another squeeze to encourage an answer.

I could have asked him about Carmichael, but I sincerely doubted that he knew anything useful, and I didn’t want to let on to my messenger that we now knew about who seemed to be in charge. “The deal with Sandro is off then. Any more answers that I don’t like, and I start squeezing hard enough to break bones, Frost. What’s the quickest way off this boat?”

I could hear his teeth grinding for a moment before he answered, “There’s a speedboat launch on the lower deck, at the aft of the ship.”

“Is it guarded?” I pressed.

“No, I…” There was a brief hesitation before his answer, his heart rate quickened, and there was a subtle change in his already fearful scent.

“Lie.” I squeezed his shoulder tighter until I could hear and feel bones cracking under the pressure. “Do you want to try that again?” He was too busy screaming to answer as he fell to the floor in agony, so I reached down, picked him up by the throat, and lifted him to face me, cutting off both his air and his screaming. He’d already answered my question anyway, the boat launch was very guarded, just in case I really was a mercenary and tried to escape.

“When you wake up, Frost, tell whoever put you up to this that they’re messing with the wrong people. If they don’t back off, they will pay in blood.” Once I was sure that he had gotten the message loud and clear, I pistol-whipped him with my other hand and dropped him to the floor.

Sandro was standing there gaping at me. “Madre de Dios, has anyone ever told you that you can be fucking terrifying?”

“Only when I have to kill people,” I replied casually. “We need to move; people may have heard his screaming. Once we get to the speedboat launch, there will be fighting. I’ll do what I can to cover your escape, you need to get back to land, grab what money you can quickly, and get the hell out of town. These guys know you’re associated with us, and if they catch you, they will torture you to get the information that they want.”

“Sí, just let me…” Sandro replied as he began to search the unconscious Frost.

I quickly interrupted whatever he was about to say. “Sandro, we need to hurry, I can’t…” Sandro’s head exploding made the words catch in my throat. “Fuck. I barely heard the shot, small arms fire but they must be using a suppressor. It came from the forward deck area; whoever was waiting there for Frost and Sandro must have heard the screaming and decided to check it out. Whoever it is, they’re a fucking good shot to make that shot with a handgun.”

I stood there for a moment, clenching my fists in anger when a voice called out, “Stop right there and keep your hands where I can see them!”

Going to the boat launch would be dangerous, it was what they expected me to do and there was likely a party waiting there in my honor from the way that Frost had lied about it. No, I was going to get off this boat another way, and I didn’t need a boat. I glanced over the railing to my right; it was a straight drop into the water, but I had something to do first. Sandro had been a good person for a criminal; he was even starting to feel like a friend. Whoever had just killed him was going to pay.

My vision was good, and there wasn’t much cover on the forward deck except for a bunch of beach chairs for sunbathing. The shooter’s voice had given away his general position, but it was possible that he wasn’t alone. It didn’t matter. I walked toward the sound of the voice, ignoring the warning shot that grazed my shoulder. It was already healing as I called out, “You made a big mistake. You killed a friend of mine and really pissed me off. Now, I’m pretty sure that your boss wants me alive, so you can’t risk killing me. I, on the other hand, can’t wait to kill you.”

His warning shot had been silent but still audible enough to my ears to give away his position. I could smell him now too, the sudden spike of fear that he couldn’t suppress, and fired a round through one of the chairs. I was rewarded with a hiss of pain and fired four more shots in the direction of the sound. At least one hit a sensitive spot, judging by the cry of pain and the change in the flavor of his scent. The smell of blood was strong. No other scents yet, so he was alone after all. Carmichael probably didn’t figure they’d need more than one man hiding somewhere to kill Sandro. I was the prize, and he wanted to cut off my escape.

My opponent wasn’t moving, either I had killed him by some fluke, or he was trying to formulate a plan. I strained my ears but couldn’t hear him breathing or shifting his weight as I approached, only the sound of pounding footsteps on the deck above me. Pursuit. I ran to confirm the kill and found a bloody mess of a man in the same type of suit that the servers had been wearing at the party. He wasn’t wearing body armor and I had gotten lucky with one of my shots. He wasn’t breathing, so my job was done, and I didn’t give him a second glance. Instead, I ran for the railing and dove over the side before anyone could arrive to see me making my exit.

I hit the water and kept my form human looking at first as I formed my gills, scented the water, and used sonar to ensure that there were no boats, or worse a submarine, tailing the yacht. There was a small boat, but it was a fair distance away so it wouldn’t be a problem. Even if Carmichael had divers at the ready, they wouldn’t be seeing any ‘mermaids’.

When I was sure that the coast was clear, I removed my clothes and shifted to dolphin form in the shadow of the yacht. Only once I had put some distance between me and Frost’s luxury boat, did I surface for air and to get my bearings. We hadn’t gone too far out to sea, so I was able to use my sonar, other boat traffic in the area, and then the lighthouse to make my way back to Havana’s port. From there it was relatively easy to get to my destination.

The water-resistant beach bag was right where I had left it, secured to a large rock underwater, not far from the beach near my hotel. Snatching it up, I found an isolated stretch of the beach with no late-night visitors and changed back into my Jessica form, and then the simple clothes that had been waiting in the bag’s waterproof pouches along with the keycard for my hotel room. I had already told Kara about what had happened on my way back to land and, once I returned to my hotel room, I was ready to pass out for a few hours. It had been a very long night.