Page 52 of Hunt on Dark Waters


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I can recognize that and appreciate it, even if part of me still wants to wring their neck. “Stay away from Evelyn.”

They glance at me. “Just a bit of harmless flirting, Captain. Except I suppose you aren’t captain anymore, are you?”

I bite down on my instinctive need to throttle them. “I don’t want trouble, but I’ll happily wade in it where she’s concerned. Do you understand?”

Their amusement never leaves their blue eyes. But their smile does fall away. “I don’t go where I’m not wanted. If I’m not mistaken, she just moved into your cabin. That makes her preference clear, don’t you think?”

I could stand here talking in circles and get nowhere. Ultimately, they’re right. It’s not that I think they’re an active threat to this thing Evelyn and I have going on, but watching them flirt with her drove home the fact that I truly have no claim. She might have shared my bed, but she’s not mine. Not in any true way.

Even if she stayed in Threshold, how can I ask her to stay with me? I was her captor. I forced her into taking a vow that will cost her life if she tries to reclaim her freedom. Neither of those things is forgivable on its own. Together? We have no chance.

If Evelyn were standing beside me right now, she would point out that I’m making decisions without consulting her. Again.

I leave Nox at the helm and head down to my cabin. Inside, I find Evelyn with several small bowls emitting colorful smoke and strange scents. I close the door softly behind me. “What’s going on here?”

“It’s all a little hocus-pocus.” She doesn’t look up from her mixing. “I have expelled a number of my tattoos, and since they are my heaviest-hitting ones, I don’t feel comfortable getting off this boat without having them recharged.”

All of my earlier concern and stress falls away, replaced by curiosity. Obviously I knew her tattoos were magic, but getting to witness her set them up feels like the closest sort of intimacy. Or maybe I’m reaching for stars.

She pricks her thumb and holds it over the first bowl. The moment her drop of blood hits the contents, she speaks a single word. My skin prickles at the magic that rises in response. It’s gone just as quickly, pulled in by her spell. She quickly repeats the process with the other bowls.

“There.” She sits back and puts her thumb in her mouth. Evelyn winces. “That shit always stings more than it has the right to.” She holds up a small stick with a needle attached. “Since you’re here, how steady is your hand?”

“Steady enough,” I say cautiously.

Evelyn smiles. “Then get over here, big boy. Tattoo me!”

I know how it works, but I can’t pretend I have any skill at it. “Surely there’s someone else who’s better suited.”

Evelyn waves it at me. “Maybe, but I trust you more than anyone else on the ship. All you have to do is follow the lines that are already there. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun,” I repeat. “You have a strange way of viewing things.”

“I would think you’d stop being surprised by that after all this time.” She rolls her eyes. “Look, technically I can do it myself, but it’s a pain in the ass and I need a mirror. It will take me twice as long as it would take you. Please, Bowen.”

She’s asking me for help. More, she’s trusting me to ink her spells onto her skin. The very things to keep her safe and allow her to fight and protect herself. If I was smart, ruthless, I’d force her to drain all of her spells so that she’d stop being a threat.

But that’s the Cwn Annwn way of thinking.

Without Evelyn’s magic, the cat-sìth likely would’ve killed me. Lizzie, too. And her shield gave the necessary time to really think about what we were doing with the dragon. The chain of events might have lost me my ship, but the more time that goes on, the more I wonder if that wasn’t a blessing in disguise.

There’s no one relying on me right now. No one except Evelyn. No crew to weigh in the balance of my decisions. No dozens of lives who might pay the price for my questions.

I could no more leave her defenseless than I would toss my sword into the sea.

“Show me how.”

Her smile lights up the room. “You’re the best.” She hands me the first bowl and tattoo instrument, takes off her shirt, and lies down on the bed on her back.

I stop short, all of my attention narrowing on her breasts, shadowed with marks from my beard and mouth, her pretty pink nipples practically begging for another round of pleasure. “Evelyn.”

“Oh.” She blushes a deep red. “Right. I can cover up if—”

“Absolutely not.” I drag the small table over and set the things on it. Then I take the time to kick off my boots and shrug out of my coat. It takes several attempts to find the best position. After a bit of frustration, I end up straddling her torso. I’m careful to keep the majority of my weight off her, and there’s no help for the hard length of my cock making its presence known. Other than raising her brows, she doesn’t comment on it. So I don’t, either.

It’s not until I’m dipping the needles into the ink that I realize what I’m about to do. “This will hurt.”

“Tattoos always do.” She points to the glyph just under her collarbone. “That bowl goes with this one. We’ll have to clean the needles before you switch to the other bowl.”

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