“How do you mean?”
“Think about it. Thorn gave him the ability to veto any member of this crew for any reason, no questions asked. Makes you wonder what Captain Bane saw in this sorry lot that he thought us worth redeeming, doesn’t it?” She jerked her chin toward the wheel. “And Sancha, you know why she drinks?”
Mara shook her head.
“She left her daughter alone with the man what fathered her, but he didn’t want to be a father. Truth was, back then Sancha didn’t want to be a mother, either. Not until she got home from carousing with friends only to find her daughter dead by the unfeeling hand of the blackguard she’d entrusted with her care. Too late, she realized how much she did love her girl, and that she didn’t really mind the responsibility of motherhood, after all.”
Her eyes filling with tears, Mara gasped at the horror poor Sancha must have faced that night. No wonder she was so harsh now. “What did she do?”
“Without a single word, she calmly picked up his flintlock and shot him where he sat. They say they found her sitting in her daughter’s nursery, holding the babe while still coated in her husband’s blood. Don’t think she’s been sober since. Because whenever she is, she sees her daughter’s face and blames herself solely for what happened. And she can’t bear the guilt of it. It’s why she took on the name Sancha Delarosa—holy lady of sorrow. Her real name was Maria Esmeralda de la Vega y Tarancón. Or more to the point, Donna Maria Esmeralda de la Vega y Tarancón.”
“She was a noblewoman?”
Nodding, Belle pressed her hand against the amulet she never removed from her neck. “And Kalder … he was mixed up in all kinds of evil in his day. Because of who and what he is, he thought himself above all human law.”
“They caught him?”
Belle shook her head. “Those he’d cheated mistook his honest brother for him. Beat the poor lad to death in his stead.”
Wincing, Mara ground her teeth at the sheer misery that must haunt the poor merman. “Did they find him, too, after they took his brother? Is that how he died?”
“Nay. Unlike his brother, he was a brawler, through and through. They’d have never taken him in a fight. Was his own mother what did it, when Kalder came home to pay respects. She said it was only right he join his brother in death, as he was the reason his brother had been on the docks that day. Apparently, Kalder had been wanting to meet with him for some scheme he had planned, and had gotten distracted by a buxom maid. So while his brother lay dying from the beating he should never have had, unable to get help, Kalder was occupied with baser needs.”
Mara felt sick to her stomach. It explained much about the Myrcian. “That’s why he’s been celibate.”
Belle nodded. “Because of the guilt, he’s not wanted to go near another woman. Not until our Miss Jack. So while he might be flirting with one, he never sees the deed through.”
“Now he blames himself for what happened to her.”
“Aye.”
Mara glanced around as a shiver went down her spine. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
“I wanted you to remember that the cross each of us bears isn’t truly the one that be on our wrists. ’Tis the one of guilt we carry inside our hearts. And while those two cut to the bone, they are nothing compared to the double-crosses of our trusted friends and family that scorch us soul deep. That is what the red jack we fly truly stands for, Mara. A fanged skull to remind us of the eternal bite that comes from such nasty treachery. And the ribbon ’round it is the captain’s eternal promise that he will never betray us. No matter what, he will keep faith and be at our backs through whatever nightmarish hell comes our way.”
“Captain!” Kat’s voice rang out from the crow’s nest high above her head, interrupting Belle’s words. “Incoming!”
So accustomed to the sea holding all their incoming threats, it took Mara a moment to realize that wasn’t what he was warning them about.
Nay, this threat came from the skies.
There was a group of dragons, and they were headed straight for them.
18
“Paden?” Cameron crawled toward her brother on trembling arms and knees that threatened to give way at any moment. He was so battered and bruised that she barely recognized him. Yet even through the misshapenness of his features and his strangely pale hair, she’d know him anywhere.
Or so she thought.
No sooner had she reached him than he looked up with coal black eyes that were shot through with bloodred veins. He hissed at her, baring fangs.
Shrieking, she pulled back. “What have they done to you!”
He let out an inhuman growl as he slid across the floor after her like a rabid dog intent upon her utter destruction.
Terrified and unwilling to hurt him, she shrank into the corner and held her arms up to protect herself as best she could. Tears welled in her eyes. She whispered a prayer of protection. “In the name of St. Michael, dear God, deliver me from evil. Preserve me from violence and set Your shield around my body. In the name of the Father. The Son. And the Holy Spirit! Please, Paden, please! Mercy!”
His breathing ragged, he paused an instant before he would have ripped out her throat. Drool dripped from his fangs to her neck while he hovered so close that his rancid breath scorched her flesh. “Cammy?” Her name was an anguished whisper.
“Aye, brother.”
He let out a sob so deep that it seemed to come from the very bowels of his soul. His body shaking, he gathered her into his arms and clutched her tight against him while he wept tears of blood.
“Ah, how precious and sweet.”
Paden tightened his grip on her to the point of pain. A heartbeat later, his wings sprang from his back. When he tried to rise, the demons grabbed his chains and dragged him away from her, then slammed him to the ground.
She tried to help, but the voluptuous woman in bloodred armor used her powers to drive her back against the wall. And held her there with an ease that infuriated Cameron.
Tsking, she smirked. “Now, now, little spawns of Michael, we can’t be having any of this.”
“Let her go, Gadreyal!” Paden growled. “This has nothing to do with her!”
“Oh, but it does. And had you wanted her left alone, you should have cooperated. Now…” She let out an evil, insidious laugh. “We shall play a little game called Plant the Seed. One of you will carry it, but neither of you will know who it is. At least not until it takes root and grows to such a beast that it can’t be defeated and it’s too late to be stopped.” Her laugh echoed in the room. “Aye. I’ll have the head of Dón-Dueli, and the spawn of Michael will be the one who brings it to me.”
Her laughter died an instant later when a demon manifested behind her and whispered in her ear. “What?” she growled.