Deadmen Walking (Deadman's Cross, #1)

“As would I,” Marcelina said in the same scoffing tone. “Neither of us had a real say in our fates or misbegotten whatever this travesty burden we share is.” She swept a less than flattering grimace over his body. “I can’t imagine a more horrid fate than what you speak.”


Captain Bane laughed bitterly. “I can … being husbanded to you.”

William cleared his throat as the captain and Marcelina began to escalate their verbal conflict. “Ancient ones? You have children present and it upsets us when our parents fight.”

“Speak for yourself, Will,” Bart said with a smirk. “I find it highly entertaining. Especially when they begin to launch things about, and throw fire at one another.”

Without so much as glancing in his direction, the captain let fly a dagger at Bart that seemed to have appeared from thin air.

William caught it and tsked. “Best be careful with that sudden flailing, Captain. Could put out someone’s eye with this.”

“Was rather hoping to put out someone’s life with it.”

“Och now, that’s just mean.”

“Do they always fight like this?” Cameron whispered to Bart.

He screwed his face up in thought. “Actually, this is rather tame for them. Thinking it must be because you’re new to our company that they’re tamping it down a bit.”

“Anyway,” Marcelina said again, returning her attention to Cameron. “My race—Deruvian—was all but destroyed by the very ones we’re after. Our goal is to keep the same fate from befalling mankind.”

Marcelina moved to stand near William. “And to answer your question, Mr. Death”—she spoke his name correctly—“Seraphs were chosen from an elite group of fighters who once battled beside my race for the survival of this world. After the war ended, the Cimmerian forces refused to stop preying on the innocent. And they proved more resourceful and resilient than the gates made by our side that held them back from your realm. Even worse, they found ways to beat back the Seraphim until there were only thirty-seven of them left out of their once great army. As a last resort, and to keep the balance intact, the Sarim council made a dark bargain and used forbidden magick to make those last thirty and seven souls immortal—with the help of my people, they bound them to medallions like the one in your hand.”

Devyl let out a heavy sigh. “It was a desperate but necessary act, as those last thirty-seven possessed unique skills and powers that take years to master and learn … provided an apt pupil could be located for the instruction. But rather than start from the beginning, the medallion allows the soul of the Seraph to temporarily take over the body of their descendent to battle their enemies.”

Marcelina nodded. “Aye, and it must be a member of their direct bloodline to fully access their powers. Otherwise, the Seraph becomes tainted and an easy tool for evil.”

“So each soul must be carefully watched over and guarded to ensure no other finds it, corrupts, and bonds with it,” Devyl said. “Along with the sword the soul controls.” The captain picked up Cameron’s hand that held her medallion. “The bad news is that now that you’ve tapped the power of your bloodline, you’ve sent out a signal to those who seek to destroy all of the remaining Seraphim. They won’t stop until you’re dead and they have your medallion.”

Cameron winced at the last thing she wanted to hear. But that left her with another question. “Are you a Seraph, too?”

Stepping away from her, Devyl scoffed bitterly. “Nay, lass. I was the very thing they gave their lives fighting against.”

“I don’t understand.”

The red returned to his eyes as his expression became sinister. “Never mistake that I’m anything more than a damned soul, gal. I’m here only for vengeance and blood. I leave redemption and kindness for better folks than I, as I’ve no use whatsoever for any of it. To hell with anything save blood and violence.” And with those chilling words hanging in the air, he left them.

When William started after Bane, Marcelina stopped him. “Let Du go, Mr. Death. He’s in no mood for comfort and won’t welcome anything more than bloodshed in his current state of mind. Trust me, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of it.”

“As you say, mum.” He inclined his head to her, then left in the opposite direction the captain had gone.

Bart hesitated. “Should I show Miss Jack to her quarters?”

“I’ll see her settled. Take the helm from Sancha and make sure Kalder takes the watch.”

“Aye, aye, mum.” And with that, he departed.

Marcelina offered Cameron a kind, benevolent smile. “The men were right. For a woman with no experience in such matters, you are taking all this rather well. Should I be worried?”

Cameron slid the medallion into her pocket. “Sadly, hard knocks are rather the norm for me life. Though, to be honest, these have left me reeling quite a bit. I think I’m rather drunk from the punches here of late.”

She laughed. “I can imagine.”

Cameron rubbed the sudden chill from her arms as she tried to come to grips with all the new information she’d been run over with. Honestly, it had her staggering as she tried her best to get some bearings with everything she’d heard and seen. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why do you call the captain Du?”

“’Tis his real name. Dón-Dueli. Du or Duel for short.”

Dón-Dueli … that name sent another shiver down her spine. It denoted a sense of evil even darker than the name Devyl Bane, and reminded her of the tales her father had once spun of his Irish homeland. Of the sinister fey and the dark bean sidhe who stalked the night and preyed upon the weak. “I’ve never heard of a name like that before.”

“Like me, he comes from an ancient race. Only, where my people sought tranquil peace, his sought war and domination.”

“Is he a demon?”

“Nay, child. That would be an easy excuse for him and his kind, when there is no reason for the brutality he embraced in his mortal lifetime. He reveled in the misery of those around him, and drank it in like mother’s milk.”

“Then why is he helping you and the others now?”

“I assure you, it’s not by any real choice or out of any sense of noble obligation. He was forced to this task against his will to right a wrong he once committed.”

“Against?”

“A girl like you. Sweet. Innocent. Until she met him and made the mistake of commending her heart to his most callous hands.”

There was no missing the bitter undertones in her voice.

Or the hatred.

“You?”

“Nay, child. My younger sister.”

*???*???*

“Did you sink that damnable ship?”

The lusca paused as he noted the anger in his lady’s voice. More grateful than ever that she had yet to breach the barriers that kept her locked from the world of man—and from reaching him—he swallowed hard. “Nay, my lady. They carry a Seraph with them now. When I tried to break the hull, it activated a shield of some sort around them all and the ship, and almost killed me.”