Mimicking Mrs. Smith’s scowl, the other girl said, “Like, chill out, lady. It’s a freaking party.”
The first girl threw the photo to the floor and rushed off after the other kids.
A whorl of air blew the photo in front of Una’s feet. She picked it up and went rigid with terror.
The woman in the photo had become a beast. Her eyes were two black wells illuminated with firefly sparks of hatred. Her lips were pulled back uncannily far, revealing a mouthful of white teeth. It was the lethal smile of a viper.
Una felt dread coil around her bones. The creature in this photo was not here to dance or make friends. She was here to hurt.
To hunt.
Shoving the photo in her purse, Una decided to take stock of the boat. She needed to locate the exits, the lifeboats, and the smoke detectors. She needed to find the wheelhouse and lay eyes on the radio in case she had to call for help. Finally, she needed another weapon. Something bigger than her hunting knife.
There were grappling hooks and boat hooks secured to the rails of every deck. After cutting partway through the ties of a boat hook with her knife, she ignored theno admittancesign and approached the bridge.
The captain was irritated to see a guest in his command center, but Una smoothed things over by saying that her father,a lifelong fisherman, would’ve wanted her to introduce herself to the man piloting such a fine vessel. Hearing this, he told her all about the boat. Una pretended to listen while studying the instrument panel. Once she’d located the radio, she craned her head around the wheelhouse. There, hanging on a hook next to the door, was a marine harpoon kit in a plastic carrying case. The slogan on the bag readall you need to stick a monster.
“Best seat in the house for fireworks,” the captain said.
Una smiled and said, “And they’ll be set off from...?”
The captain pointed at the ceiling. “Bow of the sundeck. We’ll drop anchor just past the channel buoys and then—boom!—we’ll light up the sky. It’ll be like a second Fourth of July.”
Una thanked the man for his time. Tipping his cap, he said, “You should head back to the main deck. They’re serving the cake in fifteen minutes. You’ll want a front-row seat when they wheel that baby out.”
Una had seen the cake when she’d cut through the kitchen. It was a three-tiered behemoth, decorated to look like a tuxedo, and had0013piped along the base in gold icing. The figure of the spy on the top tier wore a yarmulke and carried a scroll instead of a gun.
Fifteen minutes later, just as the captain had predicted, an announcement came over the speakers, asking for the guests to congregate in the buffet area. Una waited until the other guests headed down before following them to the main deck. Once there, she scanned the crowd. She found Jill and Charles, but there was no sign of Mrs. Smith.
Una’s heart thudded in her rib cage. All of the children were gathered together, so where was she?
As soon as the lights went out and the cake was wheeled in, Una climbed the stairs back up to deck two.
Other than a few crew members, the deck was deserted.
Una paused next to the port-side lifeboat. The corner of the cover had been untied. Una hadn’t noticed this before, but it seemed an odd sight on a ship run by such an exacting captain.
Walking around to the starboard lifeboat, she found its cover untied, too.
She heard a noise directly above her—a faintclip clip clip.
Cheers burst from the deck below. As Una imagined the guests parting to make way for the giant cake, something flew past her and struck the water hard.
Una couldn’t see what had fallen off the boat. Leaning over the rail, she caught a flash of white in the dark water, then nothing.
She’s above me.
Closing her hand around the knife inside her purse, Una whispered, “Be with me, Amma,” as she ascended to the sundeck. When she reached the top of the stairs, she saw a woman in a midnight-blue dress pouring gasoline from a red plastic container onto a crate of fireworks.
“Stop!” Una cried. “Stop that!”
Mrs. Smith emptied the can and tossed it over the rail. Then she flicked a lighter. Its small flame danced in the night breeze.
“You’re going to die tonight,Islendingar.” Mrs. Smith’s voice was a low growl. “I have tasted your blue-eyed brothers and sisters before. Now, it is your turn.” Her mouth stretched into a terrifying grin. “This fire will send you all into my realm. While I feed on the childrenyoulove,mychildren will pick your bones clean.”
Mrs. Smith knelt and touched the lighter flame to a Roman candle fuse. With awhoosh, the fire galloped over the rest of the gas-soaked fireworks.
In that searing flare of light, Una saw that Mrs. Smith’s hands were stained with blood.
