Deadmen Walking (Deadman's Cross, #1)

Kat watched Rosie, then Devyl, as the sea kept the ship rocking while the storm continued to rage. “And do we know for a fact that this be where the boo-hag haunts?”


“The she-bitch takes the form of a giant black owl with glowing red eyes whenever she spies for victims. And an owl at sea tends to stand out.”

Simon crossed himself. “What are we summoning her for, Captain?”

He hesitated on giving up the entire reason. There were some things he didn’t want the others to know. So he settled on a smaller, more logical one they wouldn’t argue with. “It’ll behoove us to pay homage to her, as the gate lies in the midst of her perching range, and we’ll be passing by it. Anyone who doesn’t give her her due regrets it immensely. Not to mention, nothing goes on in this area that Strixa doesn’t know about it.”

“Sound reasons.” William called for them to set anchor and steady the ship as best they could, given the storm.

Belle returned with her oils and salts to help him, and Janice cast the circle for it. “Be ready whenever you are, Captain.”

While Belle set about beginning the ritual with Janice, Devyl took a moment to make sure that Rafael was far enough away from them to be protected should something go amiss—which, given his luck, was highly probable. No need in putting both their crews at risk. Besides, the Deadmen would need to be fished out of the sea if things didn’t go to plan.

Devyl turned to the man who was the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend. “Should this go afoul, Mr. Death, I want you to save as many as you can.”

“No fears, Captain. Me arse’ll be the first one I’ll be rescuing.”

He scoffed at the surly tone, knowing Will better than that. William would never see to himself over the life of another. It was, after all, what had caused him to be hanged.

And that had been over someone William knew had betrayed him, yet he took the noose for the man anyway. Because, aye, Will was just that loyal.

Once they had the ship as stable as they could, Devyl turned to Mara. He saw the concern in her eyes and it warmed him a lot more than he wanted to own up to. “It’ll be fine, my lady. I’ve done worse.”

“Indeed. That’s what scares me most. For I have witnessed some of your more stellar moments of gross recklessness … and stupidity. I shudder at the thought of you repeating them.”

With worry haunting her eyes, she stepped back and melted into the ship so that she could better control it and form a cage around Strixa once she manifested.

Devyl took the small iron pot from Belle’s hand, where she’d already begun the mixture they needed to bind the powerful creature they were evoking and not invoking. A dangerous thing that, especially when dealing with gods and those most powerful.

The fumes from the pot were pungent enough to make his eyes water and to catch in his throat.

Sancha rubbed at her nose as he began to make sigils on the deck. “Doesn’t she prey on children?”

“She can. Why?”

“I’m trying to think if there’s an easier way to lure her. Mentally, Kalder should draw her in.”

Kalder gave a loud, fake laugh at her insult. “I’ve heard she prefers to drink the nectar of loose women, meself.”

“Well then, we get a double dose of it with you.” Sancha grinned at him.

Kalder laughed good-naturedly, taking her insults in stride. At least until a fierce, harsh, screaming wind began.

Devyl grimaced at the banshee-like sound. “Relax. It’s her. She’s protesting our interference with her free will.”

“Is she going to—” Bart’s voice broke off as a massive swell of water came over the starboard side and sent the ship careening.

Several members almost fell overboard, but Mara caught them in a basket and held fast.

Devyl cursed as more waves pummeled them and uprooted their anchors. “Hold tight!”

Easier said than done. Strixa was after their blood and their lives for this. And not just to take a few years off.

She wanted them entirely.

As a result, a wave lifted the ship out of the water and sent it crashing down with a force that rattled their bones and sent them all to the deck. It was so fierce, it shattered the cage Mara had created to hold her.

“Mara?” Devyl shouted, terrified she might have been injured.

“I’m fine.” But her tone was stressed. “Don’t worry over me. You be careful.”

He pressed his cheek against the plank, wishing she was in her body. “Do not get harmed in this,” he breathed before pressing his lips to her wood. “Above all, do not risk yourself.”

The planks warmed beneath him. “Above all, Du, do not be harmed.”

Devyl caressed the boards before he pushed himself to his feet. “Strixa!” He shouted for the witch as he began to evoke her, chanting in the ancient language of his people in an effort to calm her fury and save his crew.

It didn’t work.

She came out of the sea like a phoenix on fire, trailing a stream of water in her wake. Her black wings flapped with the force of a hurricane, sending their ship plunging beneath the waves. Only Belle’s shield, Janice’s chant, and Mara’s determination kept them from being ripped apart and sunk.

The crew lashed themselves to whatever wood they could and many prayed as it seemed the ship was trying to buck them all off into the sea to be drowned.

“This was a stupendously bad idea,” William said as he wrapped rope around his waist and the mainmast.

Devyl growled as he pulled himself up and stood to the side. “No bitching, Mr. Death. I tried to get you to leave.”

“Deeth! And I regret me decision, Captain. Seriously. Should have done it when you told me to.”

Bart caught Zumari as he went skittering past and helped him to anchor himself to the deck. “Am thinking … she’s an owl. They like insects. I vote we feed her Roach and run for it.”

Roach let loose a long string of French obscenities.

Ignoring them, Devyl used his powers to summon Deruvian fire so that he could shoot it at the ancient being to get her attention off his men and onto him, where it belonged.

With a loud screech, she ducked his blast and came for him. He expected her to fight.

Especially as she angled her talons at him. Instead, she flapped her wings as the sea and storm settled down into an eerie, fog-laden stillness that was far more terrifying than the storm they’d just been in. It was so quiet now, he could hear his heartbeat and the creaking of the ship boards around him. The clanking of winches against wood and the slapping of ropes against the side.

A single cannon ball rolled across the deck.