Her scowl deepened as she cast her gaze around as if seeking an answer before she shook her head.
Handing the medallion back to her, he closed her fingers over it. “You are born of a Seraph’s bloodline, lass. And this trinket of your brother’s is the proof of it. I’d been hoping I was wrong with my earlier assessment. Sadly, I wasn’t.” He stepped back as he contemplated what it all meant. “The good news is, since you had no idea of your family’s origins … unless you have a sibling your parents failed to speak of, your brother’s still alive somewhere—you were right with your assertions. They didn’t kill him, after all.”
Cameron gasped as hope finally filled her. “You’re sure about that?”
Bane nodded before he dipped his chin toward her fisted hand. “As we’ve all just seen, the medallion reacts to your blood when you’re under demonic threat. Had Captain Jack died, you’d have been approached by those he serves about replacing him in this fight. Since no one’s come for you, he’s alive without a doubt. And that medallion is from his own sword, which I’m sure he inherited from one of your parents.”
Cameron’s breath caught as she opened her hand to study the emblem more closely. Never had she seen it in her parents’ possession. “Me mother had a sword that belonged to her father before he died, but we were never allowed near the locked chest where she kept it. She always said that it would pass to Paden on her death.” She bit her lip as she remembered something she hadn’t thought about in years. “After her death, he never let me see it, either. I never thought anything about that, until now. Like her, he guarded it with the strictest care.”
“Because of the power it contains, a vile beacon it be. One that draws evil to it like a flame summons moths. Unless it’s kept shielded and enclosed, it would be a threat to any nearby innocent unaware of what it actually is.” Devyl crossed his arms over his chest. “Your brother must have sent the Seraph medallion to you to keep his enemies from using his sword or destroying the soul of your ancestor. And to keep you safe in his absence.”
“What is this Seraph you keep mentioning?” William asked.
Before Devyl could speak, a pale, shimmering woman appeared in the center of the cabin.
Gasping, Cameron shrank away from her. The men, however, didn’t blink. They acted as if her ghostly presence among them was normal and expected.
More beautiful than a fairy queen, she stood eye to eye with Devyl and had hair unlike anything Cameron had ever seen before. Pale golden-brown, it was laced with strands of ice white—not gray or any facsimile of gray. It was a silvery, gleaming white … like fey-locks that fell in unadorned waves to her waist. Her black-and-white-striped silk gown was plain, yet richly cut and elegant. A white lace kerchief encircled her neck, and as with her hair, it had shimmery silver threads laced through it—the same lace decorated the edges of her sleeves and hem.
Yet the most peculiar bit was that she stood barefoot even while she held the bearing of some grand empress. Obviously she didn’t fear splinters from the ship boards.
And her eyes …
Almond-shaped, they were a deep amber brown. She turned to face Cameron and offered her a kind smile. “No need to fear me, child. I mean you no harm.”
Devyl stepped forward. “Cameron Jack, may I present you to our lady ship, Marcelina?”
Cameron bowed to the noblewoman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”
Marcelina smiled. “I’m not a lady, child. You misunderstood Du’s words, as was no doubt his intention.” She passed a chiding grimace toward Captain Bane.
Confused by that, Cameron waited for an explanation. William laughed while Bart bit back a smile.
Devyl gave each of the men a chilling glare before he explained the lady’s comment. “Mara is this ship we sail upon, Miss Jack. Our warden—in all senses of that word—for this grand misadventure.”
“Pardon?”
“Perhaps this will help?” Marcelina posed herself like the ship’s figurehead. Before Cameron’s eyes, she turned into the wooden piece from head to toe.
“Holy mother of God!” Cameron crossed herself.
Marcelina returned to flesh. “No need to panic, child. As Du said, I’m the guardian for all who reside here. So long as you fall under my protection, I will do anything to keep you safe.”
“And ensure you have no fun whatsoever,” Bart mumbled under his breath.
The captain elbowed him in the stomach hard enough that he doubled over.
Shaking her head, Cameron did her best to absorb all of this, but … “How is this possible? How can she be the boat?”
The smile returned to Marcelina’s face. “I come from an ancient race. We are the wood and the wood is us.”
“They were the gods and guardians of the forest,” Devyl said. “Ever lurking among humanity and causing problems for them and us.”
“I don’t follow.”
Marcelina glared at Devyl. “We are the protectors—”
“My ass cheeks.”
“Du, please! Watch your language!”
“Watch your lies! Are you really going to stand there and preach that as if I wasn’t there?”
Marcelina grimaced at him. “And what of yours? How many fell to your race and army? Need I remind you how we met?”
“Need I remind you how we parted? Blood soaks us both!”
“And you’re an unreasoning beast!”
“Better than being an unreasoning—”
“Don’t you dare!” Marcelina shrieked, cutting him off before he could insult her.
A fierce tic started in Devyl’s jaw as his eyes glowed a deep, dark red in the dim light.
Her breathing ragged, Marcelina turned toward Cameron. “Anyway, my race predates the existence of mankind by centuries.”
Cameron frowned as she tried to understand what they were telling her. “Then why have we never seen you? How is it that I’ve never heard of your people?”
Marcelina turned another hostile grimace toward the captain. “War thinned our numbers to virtual extinction. While there were millions of us centuries ago, there are but a handful now.” She gestured at the captain. “Du and I had our destinies bound together long before the world you would recognize came into being. So when he accepted this task, I was forced to it, as well.”
“Payback’s a bitch,” he mumbled under his breath.
Cameron didn’t understand his hostility, but at least she was beginning to figure out his peculiar relationship with his crew and boat, and why they spoke of things the way they did. As William had warned her, things here were not as they seemed, in any sense of the word.
She inclined her head respectfully to Marcelina. “So you’re the captain’s wife, then?”
Captain Bane snorted rudely. “Hardly. I’d have slit my own throat first.”