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I grabbed her chin and directed her eyes to mine. She flinched—and rightly so since I had grabbed her rougher than I intended—and looked at me with a twinge of fear.
“Luc, what are you—”
“Don’t move,” I ordered.
I tried to read her. The spiritual realm had given me the power to read people’s emotions, fears, and desires, and if there was any time to use it, it was now.
I kept my eyes on her, trying to dig into her soul. And as I looked, I found the confirmation I needed.
She wasn’t charmed by me at all.
And there would only be one reason why I couldn’t put her under my spell.
Esmeralda was a cursed siren like me.
I stepped back, the shock overwhelming me. How on earth was this woman one of my kind? Did she know about it like I did? No, she couldn’t, could she? It was strange that I even knew.
“Luc?” she asked.
I blinked, trying to compose myself.
“You have a strong will, little dove,” I said, trying to act natural. “Those eyes of yours show it.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You have no interest in personal space, do you, storyteller?”
She threw the bowls on a tray, furrowing her brows, and then made her way up the stairs. I rubbed my chin in thought as she walked away.
“Not especially,” I whispered after her. “But you’d be surprised at how close we truly are, little dove.”
TWENTY-FIVE
It was my turn to feed them.
I had been trying to avoid the prisoners on board, especially on today of all days. To charmspeak the men into pushing our upcoming planned mutiny up had taken all my energy, but seeing how Henrik was already losing himself to his obsession with Esmeralda made it clear that it was time to put them behind bars. The technicalities of shoving them into prison without the current prisoners getting out was the largest problem, but there was no time.
Perhaps the biggest problem was that the pirate leader—whose name I kept forgetting—couldn’t be charmed, and I didn’t know why.
There wasn’t much time before the mutiny, but I was still on kitchen duty. I should have gotten someone else to do it, I supposed, but at the same time, the pirate leader had knowledge I wanted. Knowledge I needed.
I could tell by looking into his soul that he had answers I had been searching for.
And if he died in my mutiny, then it would be a waste.
I put on my best smile, per habit, and strutted down the stairs into the brig.
“Good evening, gentlemen!” I called out. “Supper is served, courtesy of the great captain.”
The last three words came out rather sharply, but no one noticed. They were too busy grasping for the bowls between the bars. They slurped it down sloppily as I made my way to the back of the cells.
Their leader was still with his back against the wall, staring straight ahead. He didn’t look upset or agitated, but only waiting, like a lion watching its prey.
I didn’t want to face him. Somehow I knew he was connected to the spiritual world. He didn’t respond to charmspeak at all. He seemed entertained by it. He knew what I was, I was sure. But I didn’t know exactly what he was.
He turned his head toward me. He then raised an eyebrow, as if he was asking me why I was staring at him and not saying anything.
“Dinner?” I asked, holding up a bowl.
He shrugged. “Not necessary.”
