Deadmen Walking (Deadman's Cross, #1)

Now …


She scowled as her gaze went past Cameron’s shoulder to focus on Devyl’s massive form, headed for them. There was an intensity to his swagger that she hadn’t seen in a long time. One he reserved for battle.

Or enemies he intended to gut.

He hadn’t approached her with it since the day they first met, and it wrung the same reaction from her now as it’d done then. Her gut tightened as every part of her sanity screamed for her to run.

Unfortunately, flight wasn’t in her. So she stood her ground, even though a part of her expected to wet herself at any moment.

Without a word, he took her arm in a fierce grip and hauled her from the galley to the upper deck.

“What are you doing?”

He practically carried her. Though he was insistent, he wasn’t rough, per se. Still, it unsettled her. And it seriously rankled her.

But not as much as his continued silence on the matter.

“Duel! Answer me! What is this about?”

“You wanted to learn to protect yourself. I’m here to teach you.”

What? Stunned and confused, she blinked at him as he finally let loose of her arm so that she stood in the center of the deck, near the mainmast. “Pardon?”

He handed her a sword. “You’re going to learn to fight.”

Now? Had one of the demons possessed him? She’d never seen him quite like this. And she’d been jesting earlier. Surely he’d known that. By his actions, she’d assumed he’d known it for the japing it was.

Glancing around at the crew that had paused to watch them, she shook her head. “I don’t need to learn to fight.” It was what she had him for.

“Aye, you do.” He pressed the cool grip of the hilt into her hand.

She refused to take it. “What are you about?”

Pure unmitigated fury darkened his brow. It was so cold and fierce that it actually scared her—something she wouldn’t have thought possible. “Take. The. Sword.” Each clipped word cut even more sharply than that weapon would.

“What is wrong with you?”

His eyes flared vibrant red. “Take that sword!” he growled in that deep, demonic rumble. “Now!”

“Nay, I will not.”

Du shoved her back. “Is that your answer then? To let your enemies have you? To bleed? To die? To do nothing while they rape and dismantle you?”

“Captain?”

Du shot a fire blast at William as he came forward to lend a hand to her. “Stay out of this, Mr. Death, before I make your last name a permanent condition not even Thorn can save you from.” He turned back toward her. “Is it?”

Her lips trembling, she hesitated at the sight of what she saw in those red eyes. There was something a lot darker than a demon soul inside him. Something a lot worse had its claws in his heart. “Duel … I’m not going to get hurt.”

“Don’t patronize me. Not after what happened today.” He grabbed her hand and forced her grip around the hilt of the sword. “Take it and learn to protect yourself!”

With a ragged breath, she shook her head. “You can’t teach me to fight in one day … in one session. Duel, you know this! A single lesson is absolutely worthless. Do you really think you can train me to be you in one afternoon? How long did it take you to learn your craft or train an army?”

Anguish lined his brow as her sanity broke through his madness. His own breathing picked up speed. He glared at her with the worst hatred she’d ever seen on his face. It made a mockery of what he’d directed at her on the day they’d met. “I won’t bury you! Do you hear me, Mara! I won’t do it!”

Those words baffled her. “Then graft me and I’ll return.”

His nostrils flared and for the merest instant she’d have sworn she saw tears in his eyes before he stormed off toward his cabin.

Relieved, shaking, and still quite terrified, she glanced about at the stark and pale faces of the crew, all frozen in place by their captain’s strange outburst.

William was the first to recover himself. “Are you all right, mum?”

She nodded. “See to the ship, Mr. Death.”

“Aye, mum.”

With a deep breath to attempt to settle her raw nerves, she headed after Du.

Cameron was nearest the cabin door. “Are you sure you want to go in there alone?”

Not really. But it had to be done.

“Aye. I don’t think he’ll harm me.”

Or so Mara hoped.

Cameron arched a skeptical brow.

Not that Mara blamed her for her doubt. She wasn’t so sure herself. That had been quite an explosive display Duel had given them.

Offering a smile she was certain didn’t reach her eyes, she headed into the cabin to check on Duel.

He was knocking back something she was positive he shouldn’t be drinking.

“Du?”

He froze instantly for a few heartbeats, then drained his goblet.

Her hand shaking, she reached out and touched his shoulder. “Talk to me.”

Snorting, he poured more blood.

She caught his hand to keep him from imbibing any more, then gently took the cup and set it aside. When he started away, she fisted her hand in the billowiness of his sleeve. The size of him overwhelmed her for a moment. It was easy to forget sometimes just what a massive beast he was.

But this close …

He could tear her apart.

Yet he didn’t move. Even though his fury reached out like a tangible force, he stayed completely still in front of her. The only movement was the tic in his whiskered cheek that kept time with his rapid breathing.

“Why are you so angry?”

He growled like a rabid predator. “Why didn’t you fight them?”

“They were children.”

“They were demons.”

“I didn’t realize that until it was too late.”

Pain flickered across his brow. It darkened his eyes back to their natural black state before they flared red again. “You’re just like them. I hate you for it.”

Those words should hurt her. They should cut, but the agony beneath them said that his hatred was directed more at himself than at her. “Them who? Vine?”

A single tear fell down his cheek. So fast and unexpectedly that her jaw dropped.

He swallowed and shrugged it away on his shoulder, then stepped back and cleared his throat. “You should leave.”

Like hell!

“Not until you explain this to me … Duel. Please.”

Devyl started to tear into her. It was what he’d have normally done.

What he wanted to do. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her. And for that, he hated himself all the more. Damn it to hell and back. And damn him, too. Why had he always been weak where she was concerned?

It was what had brought them to this place and time. What had allowed her to bind them. That one moment when he’d been so furious and bloodthirsty …