As if sensing her presence, Du looked up and caught her gaze, which must have betrayed her irritation. At least the questioning expression on his face said he had a good idea that she was less than happy about their exchange.
And apparently their close proximity, as he quickly stepped back from Sancha and gruffly cleared his throat. Adjusting his somber cuff, he came over to Mara.
“Is there a problem?”
Aye, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of stating it out loud. He was arrogant enough already.
Worse? She had a sudden, inexplicable urge to duplicate Sancha’s actions with Du’s standing collar, even though there was nothing amiss with it at present. “Nay. I only wanted to thank you.”
Her gratitude appeared to embarrass him. “Nothing to thank me for. If you’ll excuse me…” He moved past her to speak with William.
Mara started to call him back, but that would be cruel given her earlier words to him when he’d offered her friendship—perhaps even more—and she’d returned it with rude enmity.
Now she mentally kicked herself for that stupidity. Why had she never noticed before just how handsome he was? How caring he could be whenever he chose it?
Instead, she’d focused solely on his short temper. His caustic ways with those he didn’t care for, and the fact that he was extremely reclusive. But then, given his mixed heritage, she couldn’t blame him for the latter. His parents had saddled him with a horrible secret. One wrong move and his Aesir brethren would have cut his throat to claim the other half of his blood.
The Deruvians would have been no better. Indeed, what had they done to him and his family? Killed his sister and slain him while his guard had been down.
Vine had slit his throat, then cut out his heart to use for spells.
Which made her curious.…
She rushed back to his side. “How did you die?”
Du stepped back from the rigging he was examining to scowl at her. “Pardon?”
“How did Vine kill you?”
“You were there. I’m told you lived half a day before your curse took your life along with mine.”
That wasn’t entirely true and they both knew it. Somehow, Duel had managed a spell that had first elongated her life and then cast her to sleep while he’d been dead. A spell he must have done long before Vine had cut his throat and never mentioned to anyone.
Not even her.
She still remembered how shocked she’d been to find out about his death and learn that she maintained her own life for those precious few hours he’d provided. To this day, she had no idea how he’d done it. What magick he possessed that had trumped hers.
Or why he’d cared enough to bother.
“Aye, but if you’re…” She glanced around to make sure no one could overhear them. When she spoke, it was in a whispered tone. “… one of us, how could you die by Vine’s hand?”
He leaned down to whisper back. “It was my third death. And I was reborn.”
“I don’t understand.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “I placed you under a sleep spell to keep you from knowing that I came back. But I was reborn on the other side. It’s why I changed my name. As you know, on the fourth reincarnation, if we’ve gained enough powers and mastered enough skills, we are transformed. In such rare cases, never do we keep the name our mothers gave us.”
Her heart sank to her feet at that revelation.
Dear gods …
“You’re a coryn,” she breathed. It was the status they all prayed to attain. The most powerful of their kind. A sorcerer of unparalleled strength and abilities. Wiser than wise and virtually invincible.
“Better. I’m a corymeister.” His eyes turned vibrant red.
Gasping, she stepped away. “Why did you bring me back?” With those powers, he could have kept her asleep forever.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and the hunger in those red depths was terrifying. “I told you, Mara. I wanted you with me.” He lifted his gaze to lock onto hers. “I realize now that you’re one mistake I can’t afford to have at my back. It’s why I expect you to be gone in the morning.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll seek my sister?”
He laughed bitterly. “Tell her. It changes nothing, except my feelings toward you, and since you don’t care about those … it affects no matter of any great import. Whether she knows or not, the end remains the same. I will see her dead and scattered.” With those words spoken, he left her again.
Mara ground her teeth as Belle approached her.
“Trouble with the captain?”
Indeed, and yet … “Nothing new.”
Belle jerked her chin toward him. “Except you see him now, whereas you didn’t before.”
“Pardon?” she gasped.
She smiled at Mara. “You know me, mum. I see right through you both.”
“Then tell me how this ends.”
Belle tsked at her. “That I can’t do, Marcelina. Only you can. Our lives are always only up to us.” She glanced at the Deadman’s Cross on her wrist and ran her fingers over it. “As is our damnation.” Then she cut a sideways glance toward Duel. “And sometimes our salvation. What we seek is always what we find.”
Mara didn’t speak as Belle went over to speak to Rosie. The wind from the sea whipped across the deck, bringing a chill with it as they sped along their way over the hostile, unforgiving black waters that hid many secrets.
Just like she did. Like all of the passengers who were currently sheltered under her boards.
Her sister had offered her much for a bit of Duel’s flesh.
Nay, for his heart.
Her bargain with Vine had seemed a simple one. But now …
She rubbed her hand over her necklace and the warmth that came from having her harthfret again.
You hate him. You know you do.
Yet if that were true, why was she having to attempt to convince herself of it?
*???*???*
Devyl tried to ignore the pair of eyes he could feel on him. If only that was the part of her he wanted touching his flesh.
Damn it.
He had no one to blame for Mara’s hatred and resentment of him but himself. Nor could he blame her for it. It was better than he deserved, all things considered.
Still, he couldn’t keep his rampant thoughts steady to the course. The sooner he removed her from this crew, the safer they’d all be.
“Captain?”
He glanced over his shoulder to see Bart eyeing him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Meers?”
“Sallie’s soul has gone missing again.”
With an irritated grimace, he turned to face Bart. “Am I captain or the nursemaid of small children?”
“Apparently, you’d be both.” He flashed a sarcastic smile at Devyl.
Growling at the aggravation, he handed his spyglass to Bart. “Batten down, Mr. Meers. There’s a storm headed in. Secure the deck and sails. It’ll be a heavy squall.”
Bart looked up at the sky. “You sure? It’s as clear as it can be.”
“Won’t be within the hour. Trust me.”