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The air was tainted with the smell of food prepared with spices from various stands combined with manure from the horses pulling buggies as Scot and I made our way to the local pub. No one had learned to switch their mopeds to battery yet, pushing time even farther back in this area.
“Looks like the place.” Scot nodded at an unconscious man, a bottle still in his hand, in front of a shack. A bar, restaurant, or any type of market here wasn’t what you would picture. Probably someone’s garage, a patchwork of makeshift buildings squeezed together and converted into spaces between chicken coops, laundry, and a few convenience stores. Here the legitimacy and safety of the shaky buildings and bad wiring weren’t ever questioned because they didn’t have laws or rules to keep them in check. It was whatever you could come up with to make work. Their poverty level was a stark contrast to the West and was made even more so after the fall of the Otherworld, taking away most modern conveniences.
Only a few heads turned our way when we strolled into the bustling space. The lack of windows kept the room dark and slightly cooler than outside, but that didn’t take away the sun radiating off the tin roof, making sweat slide down my back. My eyes drifted around the seedy garage-turned-bar, filled with people getting drunk off cheap liquor and waiting for an opportunity to get out of this port.
Scot and I approached the bar, our eyes always moving around the room, aware of everything. Gauging and assessing the type of people in here.
“Well, well… if it isn’t the Silver-Tongue Devil and the Scotsman.” My head jerked toward the woman’s voice on the other side of the bar.“Sudah lama tidak bertemu.” Long time no see,she said, acting as if she had seen us an hour ago.
I blinked at the woman I had known centuries earlier, when I was the King of the Sea.
“Bulan?” Her name meant The Moon, her face as round and as lovely as one. Barely reaching five feet, her young, sweet appearance and huge brown eyes blinking innocently at you were all a sham. She was what the Indonesians call an Orang Bunian. Their intense glamour showed them as pretty and humanlike, and their scent of French fries and adorable stature lured humans like moths to flames. They also were said to abduct children, which was total bullshit.
Though Bulan did use her powers to “befriend” and glamour humans to hand over their money and jewelry to her, getting them to pay ten times the amount for something because they were so enamored of her adorable, sweet appearance. The woman was a crook. Shady as fuck, and why I think we became good friends.
“Little Moon Pie.” Scot winked at her, causing her lids to narrow. “I’ve missed you.” She’d have killed most people for calling her that, but she seemed to let the big ginger get away with it. “Och.” Scot shook his head. “How long has it been?”
“January 1733,” she replied instantly, like it was yesterday.
My teeth crunched together at the date. It had been a dark time for me. I had lost everything by then. Sailing away from the destruction I left back in the Caribbean, heading for the East, I continued to rain havoc in my wake across the globe, bleeding out and causing more heartache and damage to everyone I crossed.
One of those times produced a daughter I never knew I had until a few years ago.
Rez.
Her mother, Mareza, was a siren I bedded during my lost, dark, drunken, selfish state, searching for something to ebb the pain. I didn’t even know she was pregnant when I left, moving on to the East.
Rez was grown, didn’t need me, and happily mated to West, a Dark Dweller, yet it still hurt that I hadn’t been there for her growing up.
Bulan grabbed a whiskey bottle, pouring us a drink, recalling what we liked.
“Like old times. Some things haven’t changed.” I smiled at my old friend.
“Some things have.” She peered around at her establishment, her nose wrinkling. “But we adapt and survive. Make do, even when times are hard.” She gripped our drinks, her lids tapering on us. “Now, I don’t want any trouble from you two. Got it?”
Scot and I nodded at her demanding tone.
“Now pay me or fuck off.”
“Same old Bulan.” I yanked out my wallet, tossing money on the table. She slid the drinks in front of us with a huff and walked off to help others.
“Ach, for a wee thing, she’s kind of terrifying.” Scot picked up his drink, turning to lean against the bar. “Sounds like someone else we know.” Scot looked out, a smirk on his mouth. I snarled at his implication, taking a huge swallow. “One shackled up inyourcabin, barely dressed, and stunning. But here you are—as far as you can.”
“You think I’m running away?From her?” I coughed out, defensive ire heating the back of my neck. “A teeny ball of hissing fur? Please.” I snapped, flipping around to watch the room too.
“Not what it looked like last night when she had you on your back, straddling you.”
“Fuck off. That is disgusting. I knew her as a child.”
“She’s not a child anymore.” His tone was filled with meaning, as if his mind conjured carnal thoughts of her right then. “Not for centuries.”
Fury flared up into my veins, and I whirled on my friend, getting an inch from his face, my voice ice. “You lay a finger on her or even think of her in any way, I will fucking kill you.”
Scot’s eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows going up. I was known for my easygoing personality, being blasé and a little bit of a smart-ass. It’s what made me good at what I did. People didn’t expect the one joking with them to turn around and slit their throat, taking their money, their wife, and their ship.
Three years ago, that changed. After the battle with the Stone and Stavros, where Lexie and so many others were killed, my temper rumbled violently. A squall under the surface.
“Her father was my second for a long time.” I continued to spout. “My frien…” I trailed off, realizing what I was about to say and that I had no right to call him that after what I had done.
