5
Devyl stood on deck with his telescope, eyeing the approaching ship, while Thorn moved in to rest just behind him. Something the demon knew made the hairs on Devyl’s neck rise—along with his hackles. He’d never been one to stomach a friend at his back.
Never mind a former enemy who’d once lifted his sword in battle against him.
Though allies they might be today, it still didn’t erase the years they’d fought viciously to destroy each other. Nor did it lend itself to the formation of any kind of trusting bond between them.
It never would.
Devyl used his powers to check the Sea Witch’s defenses. Cannons had been rolled into position and stood ready to rain down iron hell on the approaching group. To keep his crew from spooking, he lifted his telescope to survey the sloop that was gaining on them, even though he didn’t really need it to inspect them.
With or without it, he’d have been able to catch the name of the ship that was painted next to the green mermaid figurehead.
Soucouyant.
“Avast!” he ordered Will. There was no need to blast this particular crew of pirates from the waters.
At least not quite yet.
Confused, William arched a disbelieving brow, but passed the order along without hesitation. Though it was obvious the man didn’t quite agree with it.
Devyl’s hesitation proved to be prudent when one of the Soucouyant’s crew members waved a white flag of truce over his head at the same time they lowered Captain Cross’s red jack and replaced it with a plain white flag for parlay.
Not quite trusting them, as Rafael Santiago and his pirates weren’t exactly known for their honest ways, Devyl kept his men in position, then tapped his powers again to determine the Soucouyant’s threat level. He didn’t pick up any treachery. They had yet to roll their cannons into place. And no one seemed to be scurrying about in subterfuge.
But then, one never knew for sure, and he wasn’t about to risk his ship or crew for any reason. Especially since he knew Santiago had other means of attack no one, other than he, Thorn, or Belle would see coming. Attacks his crew wouldn’t be able to defend against with traditional weaponry.
Glancing at Thorn over his shoulder, he caught the older demon’s eye. “What do you think?”
“That Santiago knows you too well to try it.”
Thorn was right about that. Firing on the Sea Witch never ended well for anyone. “Hoist the truce back, Mr. Death! Stay your positions.”
And if the pirates tried anything, he’d be feasting on more than demon blood tonight.
The thought brought a rare smile to his lips.
Please try something. He would relish a good fight.
True to his nature, the Soucouyant’s captain, Rafael Santiago, came forward to stand on top of the rail until they’d pulled up close enough that he could swing from his deck to Devyl’s.
The moment Rafael’s black boots touched their boards, Bart and Zumari flanked him. He laughed at their threatening bluster and clapped them each in turn on the back as they brought him closer to Devyl.
Even in height to Zumari, Rafael was broad shouldered and well muscled. His dark skin was covered with scrolling tattoos on both arms, his neck, and even his shaved head.
Devyl was one of the few who knew the true origins of Captain Cross, or Rafael Christoph Santiago, as he’d been named at birth. The son of Masika, a freed Ethiopian slave, and a “merchant” father, Cristóbal Cruz Gabriel Santiago, Rafe had learned the buccaneer trade aboard Captain Cris Cruz’s pirate ship at the loving hand of his beloved father. And much to his mother’s horror, it was a proud family tradition Rafe carried on, in spite of land law and common sense.
Fearless, and bold in the manner of any second-generation pirate, Rafe ignored his escorts and approached Devyl. “I knew the red jack would work to slow you down.” He winked. “You’re way too predictable, mate.”
Snorting, Devyl crossed his arms over his chest. “Hell of a gamble you made.”
“That’s what life’s all about, my friend. No risk. No reward.”
Devyl shook his head at the ever-jovial marauder, who had more bullocks than brains. “So what brought you on this suicidal quest?”
“Heard you were in these waters. Been looking for you for days now. You’re a hard crew to find.” He flashed another grin at Devyl and William. “Anyway, took something a sennight ago … Am thinking you need to see it, Devyl. It’s got your Belle written all over it. We could definitely use her expertise on this bit of cargo. And yours.”
Even more curious, he passed a questioning brow to Thorn. “Want to join us for this inspection?”
“Why not? I’m here. Better than nursing curiosity.”
Now it was Rafe’s turn to appear perplexed.
“Rafael Santiago, may I present Thorn?” Devyl stepped back so that Thorn could offer his hand to the pirate legend.
“Friend?” Rafe asked.
“More like brethren.” The snide smirk on Thorn’s face made Devyl want to knock the expression into oblivion. Especially since the bastard was currently in possession of his soul and held full control over him—two things that rankled every last bit of Devyl’s core.
Brethren, my ass. More like pox or plague on his private anatomy.
Rafe shook Thorn’s hand and stepped back. “No surname? Or is Thorn it?”
“Thorn is all anyone needs to know about me.”
“As in thorn up all our collective nether regions,” Devyl muttered.
Rafe laughed. “Understood.” He gestured toward his ship. “Gentlemen, after you.”
Devyl snorted at the invitation that could still be a trap. “I’ll pull the rear.”
Rafael gave him an exaggerated innocent stare. “What? Don’t you trust me?”
“After you took a shot at me outside that tavern last time? Nay. But don’t take it personally. I never trusted my own mother, either.”
Rafe feigned indignation. “’Twas a drunken misfire at someone else. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Until I believe you, which will be never.”
Thorn shook his head and sighed before he swung himself over to Rafe’s ship. He sent the line back for Rafe, who followed suit.
Refusing to have his hands that far away from his weapons, Devyl ignored the line when Rafe slung it to him and, with a running start and Herculean feat, jumped from his ship to Rafe’s. Something that caused an echoing gasp and ripple of stunned awe to rush through Rafe’s pirate crew.
And Devyl’s.
Especially as he rose slowly from his crouch like the predator he was and swept a weather eye around the entire group to make sure that if any treachery existed in their hearts, they rethought it fast. He was, after all, a motherless bastard who wouldn’t hesitate to lay an attacker low.
Rafe snorted with an amused smirk on his handsome face. “Always one for the grand entrance, eh, mate?”