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Rek’s outburst of my name flicked a switch inside of me that he knew he should not cross. While I knew that meant he was serious, it was the sort of disrespect I would not tolerate in front of my crew. Not even from him.
“My plans do not need to be discussed with anyone. My reasons are my own, and I assure you, what’s in it for us outweighs the risk. Now”—I approached Rek, towering over him before moving to the front of the bridge and addressing the rest of the crew—“does anyone have a problem with Ainsley’s presence, or my decisions as your captain?”
The silence that descended upon the deck below, and from my friend and first mate, was sufficient for me at the moment.
“Now, if you’re quite done.” I approached Rek, growling. He should have spoken his concerns to me in private, not caused a scene of this magnitude in front of the crew. “You can come with Ainsley and myself to have a little chat with our prisoner. I’ve changed my mind. I’ll let her do the interrogating.”
“What?” Ainsley said in a near shriek behind me.
I turned to her quickly, reminding myself to reel in my anger. It wasn’t directed at her; however, it would have helped to know she had no idea what she was capable of before I had brought her aboard my ship. “He knows what you can do. Produce light with your hand—something—and he’ll talk.”
“It’s not that easy. I—”
I could feel my jaw tighten as I narrowed my eyes at the woman. Now was most certainly not the time for her to display any sort of weakness, and I prayed my gaze conveyed that message. Her hesitation gave me hope that it did.
“Come.” I motioned toward the lower decks.
Ainsley followed, with Rek bringing up the rear. I opened and closed my fists a few times as we walked, wondering what bloody mess I’d gotten us into. The sooner I could get Ainsley to Silverthorne the better. Although, she likely wouldn't approve of what she found. I descended the stairs, pounding my feet harder than was necessary as I went to rattle our guest. At the bottom of the passageway, I opened the brig door. The lone prisoner in our spacious brig appeared pathetic. I snorted at the sight.
“I brought someone you may be more inclined to talk to than us.” I gently took Ainsley by the wrist and led her forward, resting my hand at the small of her back.
She stood tall in front of the prisoner. “I have a few questions.” Ainsley’s voice was strong. She held her hand up and wiggled her fingers. A fleck of light, although quick, sparked in and around her fingertips.
The wide-eyed response of the pirate from Gretta’s crew, was enough to give away his fear.
“Name?” She arched a brow and let the sparks of magic move from her fingers and into her palm. She’d been listening to my own demands on the main deck. A feeling I hadn’t been faced with in a long time rushed to my chest. Pride.
“Giles.” The prisoner grunted after his response.
To Ainsley’s credit, she flicked her magic again. I glanced toward Rek, who clenched his jaw, and shook his head slightly. She was controlling her magic, perhaps not just as a display for our prisoner, but to prove something to me and Rek. And to herself.
Ainsley tilted her head, staring him down. “Why were you attacking us?”
Giles sneered, despite the magic she wielded. “Oh, we know all about you, Lady Ainsley.”
She dropped her hand, and I took a step forward, slamming my palm against the bars of his cell. “Watch your tone.”
Giles grinned again in that disgusting lopsided manner. “Yer lookin’ for Silverthorne.” Ainsley shifted as he spoke. “Word travels fast.”
She moved forward, speaking through clenched teeth, “And where can I find him?”
“Daddy dearest?” Giles chuckled.
This time, I reached through the bars and brought him forward. “Apologize for speaking ill of the dead. The duke only just passed.”
Giles coughed and wheezed in what nearly sounded like laughter. “Oh, oh, I see. Naughty Lady Lilstrum’s keepin’ secrets. Well, yer secret is out, girl.”
Ainsley touched my arm, but I didn’t turn toward her. I’d learned long ago that interrogations did not end well if you were pitted against your crew.
“Where is he?” Ainsley repeated, ignoring the jabs from the despicable piece of shit. But she didn’t deny his allegations. I dropped Giles’s shirt and took a step back, swiveling my gaze between the prisoner and Ainsley.
“Ah, catchin’ on, Captain?” Giles choke-laughed again. “Lady Ainsley Lilstrum is the bastard child of Silverthorne.”
I didn’t want to look at her. I did not want to give Giles the satisfaction. I kept my face as stoic as I could manage, and when I finally met Ainsley’s worried gaze, I knew Giles was telling the truth. Suddenly, her determination made sense. But Silverthorne? Her father? Then I recalled what she’d said about a note in the pub. She’d tried to tell me…
“I know where the devil is. But beware, mi’lady. So does Gretta, and she’ll have her revenge for his name being resurrected from the dead. Revenge on him, that magic-caster mother of yours, and”—Giles threw his head back in maniacal laughter—“you.”
Ainsley’s eyes grew wide, and she reached for the bars. “Gretta had something to do with killing my father—the duke—didn’t she? Let her come.” She gripped the bars tighter, and suddenly, bolts of lightning encased the cell, spreading in and around it. “I will be ready for her. And you, Giles, you shall tell me where to locate Silverthorne.” A bolt of lightning sailed over his head and bounced off the bulkhead. Rek hit the deck, and I could only look on in fascination. “Or beware, your life will be forfeit.”
Ainsley lowered her hands, turned on her heel, and marched up the stairwell without a backward glance.
Damn, what a woman.
