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“Ah, second mate of theFire StormI hear.”
He didn’t answer straightaway, but slowly he nodded. “But I-I-I did nothin’, swear to the gods. I didn’t do nothin’. I’m bonded to the crew, you see, and . . .” He paused to swallow some of the excess spittle on his lips. “We have no choice if our lord commands it. Swear we didn’t. But I did nothin’ to her.”
Molten heat split along the scars, the fractures remaining in the bones of my legs, when I crouched in front of the bastard. His features were roughened by long days beneath the sun. Stringy locks draped over his wide shoulders, and his bottom teeth jutted over his top, so the sharpened points of the canines were hidden.
He was larger than me, doubtless stronger, yet he quivered like an eel being reeled in off a hook.
“You did nothing, you say?”
I paused long enough to leave Bladeclaimer wondering what move I might make. Then, I rammed the point of my blade into the fat of his belly.
“What you didn’t do,” I hissed against his ear, “was confess to your king that the lord of your house had betrayed your kingdom. What you didn’t do—” I twisted the cutlass in his flesh, devouring the sob of pain. “Was prevent Bonekeeper from scheming against me.” Another twist, another yelp. “What you didn’t do, was speak up aboutwhereshe was taken. The latter, of course, is the most grievous of the things youdidn’t do.”
I nicked the tip of my tongue until the sour taste of blood coated my mouth, then spit in his face, watching as watery blood slid downhis crooked nose to his lips. With one finger, I took the spittle and painted the insides of his mouth.
He screamed and thrashed, and I dug my sword still in his belly deeper.
With one knee, I nudged him backward, watching from the corner of my gaze as his body convulsed and writhed, as the blackened veins snaked along the sides of his neck.
Murmurs rose from the spectators, likely earth fae, as they watched in a bit of horror the truth of what my blood could do. I cared little. The claws of bloodlust had already latched on, and all I craved were those damn screams that shattered the night.
While Bladeclaimer succumbed to poison, he lost his fingers one by one. He was gasping by the time he lost his eyes. His heart stopped before I finished slicing off the points of his ears.
With the back of my sleeve, I wiped blood off my lashes and spat drops of the splatter onto the floorboards. I spun around to where Jonas and Sander still hovered close to the whimpering fae, curled at their feet.
“Take him to the brig!” I shouted, nodding at two crewmen. “Make sure he knows what happens to traitors aboard the Ever Ship!”
The men dragged Hesh’s second assassin past the fallen traitor. My lips twitched in an austere sort of grin when the bastard vomited at the gore.
“My King!” Tavish shouted across the deck.
My heart went still as the corpse at my feet when Alek shoved through the crew, another man’s arm draped over his shoulder.
“Erik.” Gavyn’s face was haggard, a trickle of blood fell off his lip. “I found her.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE SERPENT
Gavyn founda seat on the edge of my cot, spine curved like a scythe. He’d been offered a clean tunic and half-cut trousers but kept his feet bare. Rarely out of sorts, now his dark hair was curled and loose around his features, and more stubble than was typical darkened his brown skin. In his hands, he gripped a steaming tin with a concoction from Sewell that smelled of cloves and mint.
“How did you find us?” Tait asked.
Before Gavyn answered, Tavish raised three fingers. “Apologies, should I ask permission before casting beacon spells? Thought we should have a way to draw him back to us since he didn’t know you were wearing the tracker talisman.”
Gods, I made a note in my head to thank Maelstrom for sending his bleeding son.
“If I’m no longer needed,” Tavish went on, securing a leather hat atop his head, “I best be seeing to my own crew. I’ve a feeling we’ll need to be rested up for a battle soon enough.”
Another wink, another smirk, and he left us in my chambers.
“Tell me,” was all I needed to say before Gavyn dove into his tale.
Fione was the new, hopeful mate of Larsson. Truth be told, herinvolvement was no shock, I’d already suspected a sea witch stood on his side. There was one sea witch in the Ever who wanted me to pay for her mortification of being removed as the future mate of the king—Fione.
Hesh’s betrayal was solidified, though Celine took a bit of pleasure describing the carnage her brother had stumbled upon was done to Hesh’s second mate.
What I didn’t understand was how Larsson found his way to the strange isle he’d made into his fortress, and how I never realized he was my damn brother. Was I so desperate for acceptance I’d ignored signs of his disdain?
