Pirate witch, p.9
Pirate Witch, page 9
part #3 of The Deadwood Series
Pierce is busy restraining Val, and Kier is holding so much of the witches’ attention that Nilsa and Reva haven’t yet noticed Cas is coming for them. My lungs burn as I try to force out a warning that just won’t leave my throat.
Cas’s claws slice out, and his body drops into a half-crouch, ready to launch at Nilsa, who’s just dropped her blade and put her hands up, surrendering to Kier. She’s biting her lip, eyes darting left to right as she tries to figure a way out of this.
Cas springs forward, his claws extended. Only to be tackled at the last moment by a grey and black blur.
Opal. Thank the Goddess.
A hunk of Nilsa’s hair falls to the floor, and goosebumps erupt along my arms as I realise how close he was to beheading her. If not for Opal, we would have lost her forever.
The second I find some tuna, it’s hers.
Opal and another black tiger pin the shifter to the floor beneath them, their huge feline bodies holding him back with their sheer mass. Nilsa spares them a quick glance, but doesn’t dare take her full attention from Kier. I can read the panic in her darting eyes as she takes in how precarious the situation is.
At any second, Val and Cas could get free. She’s wounded and has no weapon, and Kier holds her full concentration.
Her lips purse and her brows crease in a determined frown. There’s a second of hesitation, but when she opens her mouth, her voice is steady.
“Kieran Froshtyn, let her go and then don’t move until I say you can.”
The stillness that takes over the fae is swift and unnatural. His arms spring open, sending Elsie tumbling to the floor.
At least she’s alive.
When the hell did the fae decide to give our mate his true name? Did she figure it out for herself? No. He must have been the one to tell her. Names only hold power over the fae if they’re given freely.
Kier had enough foresight to give her a last safety net, and thank the Goddess he did.
The moment he lets Elsie go, Nilsa runs over and throws her arms around the fae, dragging him through that nauseating blackness and into the cell. He retches, but the fae manages to keep his dinner down instead of adding to the pile of vomit in the middle of the room.
How did he manage that?
When our mate reappears on the other side of the bars, she doubles over, pressing a hand to the stab wound in her side. I hear Nos hiss beside me, but I don’t bother punching him again as we watch her hobble over to Val.
She grabs the back of his shirt, rips him away from Pierce, and yanks him after her, caging him the same way that she did with the rest of us.
Only Cas remains.
As if the bargain can sense he’s the last hope, the leviathan fights harder against the two familiars keeping him on the floor. But Pierce and Reva spring into action, holding his legs as Nilsa staggers over to them.
Our mate’s skin has taken on a chalky pallor, her arms visibly shaking as she falls to her knees beside Cas.
It takes her so long to pull Cas through the darkness and into the cell that—at first—I don’t think she can do it. I’m not certain if it’s because she’s low on power, or she’s lost too much blood, but she’s struggling.
But our witch has grit. Something she proves when they both disappear.
Cas appears on his back in the middle of the cell, flips onto his side and then promptly adds to the pile of vomit beneath him.
Nilsa reappears on her knees beside her unconscious siren, meets my eyes, then collapses.
Chapter Ten
NILSA
The humid ocean breeze makes the chimes around Sade’s patio tinkle, breaking the oppressive silence that hangs over our group as Elsie finishes healing the wound through my abdomen.
The Solar whispers prayers to the Sun as she works, but they’re broken up by a litany of distracted sighs. Every few seconds, her eyes dash to the cellar door, and then back to me.
Despite the beating he took, Klaus was fully healed by the time I woke up. He stayed to make sure I was okay, then disappeared back into the cellar to keep an eye on the rest of my men. I miss his presence, even as I understand the need to keep the others under watch. According to Reva, the second I passed out, my pirates started trying to break out in earnest, compelled by the bargain to try everything to get through the bars.
Our magic won’t hold against that onslaught for long.
Cirio and Pierce left as soon as they were patched up, heading up to the main palace so they could update Sade. Their absence leaves me sitting with Elsie, Reva, and Cooper at the table across from the cellar door. None of them seem to wipe the pitying expressions from their faces, and I’ve taken to staring at the bay to avoid meeting their eyes.
I knew this was coming, but part of me didn’t believe she’d actually manage it. Some fanciful part of me stupidly thought they’d be able to do the impossible and fight against a fae bargain. Foolish hope convinced me that love could rewrite the laws of magic.
I can’t stop fingering the piece of hair which Cas’s claws sliced short. It’s a decent enough chunk that it stands out from the rest of my locks. Cut perfectly in line with the centre of my throat.
If not for Opal and Niki—Reva’s familiar—it would have been my windpipe that was severed, not just my hair. He was so close, and I was almost powerless to stop him… Goddess, I’m actually shaking.
Elsie has noticed, and she rubs a soothing hand over my back as she works. Silently supporting me while she shifts her focus to the scratches on my arms from Rysen’s first attacks.
The physical pain of my wounds is nothing.
As much as I wish otherwise, the memories of today are burned into my brain. I’m pretty sure I’ll have nightmares about this for years.
We might have won the battle, but it doesn’t feel like it. We can hear them trying to find ways out of the cell, and the Deadwood in the harbour is drifting aimlessly in response to Val’s agitation. For a while, we were worried the ship might try to bombard the coast to free the captain, but the containment enchantments on the bars seem to be holding.
The separation of the mage from his ship makes me loath to leave Val’s immediate vicinity in case he starts to sicken. We still don’t know how far I can go from him without him feeling the effects, and I don’t want to find out, even if he is currently trying his best to kill me.
I track the Deadwood’s erratic path with tired eyes, watching as the other ships in Cirio’s fleet try to tether it to their anchored vessels to no success. It’s as stubborn as Val is, and it clearly doesn’t want to be tied down.
“We need to get rid of that bargain before they figure out a way to break out of there,” Reva mutters.
“Dawn,” Elsie agrees, letting her hands drop as she finishes her healing. “If we start just before the sun is in the sky, it will make drawing them into the space between life and death easier for Reva. Then sunrise will give me the boost I need to bring them back.”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly drier than the desert. They’re really going to do this. Bring my men to the Goddess’s doorstep and hold them there until the bargain is fooled. What if it doesn’t work? What if something goes wrong and I lose them?
“Hey,” Elsie murmurs, rubbing my arm in soothing circles. “It’ll be okay. We’ve got this, and you can stay in the spirit realm to monitor things. If they’re struggling, or it looks like they’re going too far, you can tell us.”
I grind my teeth together, loathing the passiveness of my role in all of this. I’d rather be doing something practical. Anything but watching, waiting, and praying.
Trusting anyone with the lives of my harem goes against the grain, but both of them are powerful and capable. Reva is a spirit worker and Elsie—though she doesn’t yet know it—has been marked by the Sun Goddess as a future Mother Solar.
If this works, they’ll have found a way to break fae bargains. These two underage witches will be the only women in history to do so. Once the war is over, people in similar situations will flock to them in their hundreds to beg for their help.
If it doesn’t work, my men will just be more names on the long list of people who have died trying to escape the consequences of their actions.
“Promise me they’ll live through this,” I whisper, staring into the Solar’s soft, warm eyes.
Elsie takes my hands in her own and squeezes. “The Goddesses would not have put all the pieces in place like this to watch us fail.”
I squeeze back, but I don’t voice the insidious thoughts circulating in my head. How much of this is the Goddesses’ doing, and how much is our own?
I’ve never doubted before. My faith in the Moon and her witches has never faltered, but I’m beginning to wonder if that has been my mistake. The three Goddesses might be perfect, operating on a level we can’t always understand, but their priestesses are not.
Glenna used my devotion to manipulate me. Felicity knew about it and yet said nothing. Elodie hid her coven away in a crumbling temple and called it safety. Sophie would rather allow Elsie to be blamed for the destruction of Sanctuary than upset her witches. Even Petra defied the Goddess and sought revenge for her mates’ murders, almost dying and taking her knowledge of the Shadow powers with her in the process.
“It will be fine,” Reva says, sensing my glum line of thought.
Elsie gives my hands one last squeeze before glancing back at Cooper.
I still haven’t gotten the full story about what really happened between the Mage High Councilman’s son and the Solar. Now’s as good a time for a distraction as any, so I pounce on it.
“You promised you’d explain what happened between you three in Ilyani,” I remind them, smirking when I see three guilty looks. “I thought he”—I hike a thumb at Cooper—“was responsible for what happened to Sanctum?”
“No, he wasn’t—” Elsie begins, but Cooper cuts her off.
“I was.” He glances at her and shakes his head. “Whatever way you put it, Els, it was my fault. That’s why I apologised to the witches in Coveton, and why I’ll admit blame to any witch who asks me about it.”
Moisture pools at the inner corners of Elsie’s eyes, and she glances at me, distraught. “He was only trying to protect me.”
I’m pretty sure my eyebrows disappear into my hairline at that. “What?”
Reva snorts. “Prince Charming here decided she was in danger when he learned she was being escorted across the sea by a known assassin.” She rolls her eyes. “He gave her the tracker so he could follow her.”
“I didn’t get very far,” Cooper admits. “My father’s men picked me up before I made it to the docks. I don’t leave my shed much, you see, so they got suspicious when I packed a bag and headed for the port.”
“Coop’s never been good at standing up to his dad,” Elsie whispers. “Everett Castleman is not a good man.”
I grimace, remembering the red-headed mage who so impassively watched as the Queen and the Alchemist whipped my back raw. What would such a man be like as a father?
I’m not sure I really want to know.
“He took my tracker and went to present it to the Eagle like a trophy.” Cooper tugs at his ponytail in aggravation. “I couldn’t stop him. I tried. But I’m not as powerful as he is. No mage is. Castleman blood is strong, but I’m almost a dud. Good with my brains and decent at tinkering, but I’m an embarrassment to the family name.”
“I’d argue that a psychopath like Everett is an embarrassment to the family name,” Reva mutters, but is ignored.
“I should have tried harder to stand up to my father,” Cooper continues. “I had no idea he was going to use the amulet I gave Elsie like that. I know… Elsie told me you lost your mentor as a result. I know it won’t help, but I’m sorry. I’m doing my best to help Elsie put things right.”
His eyes are so earnest and wide that it feels like I’m being asked to judge a sad puppy rather than a nearly grown mage.
It’s difficult to justify being angry at him for the actions of his father when I wasn’t angry at Elsie when she was accused of the same thing. Standing up to a man like Everett can’t be an easy thing for someone their age to do, and having him as a parent is probably worse. Cooper isn’t a fighter—I doubt Elsie would like him so much if he was.
At the end of the day, Everett murdered Petra and destroyed Sanctum, not an awkward, dumb teenager with a crush.
And he does have a crush. It might be simple friendship on Elsie’s side—Solars are celibate, after all—but the boy looks at her with such plain, open adoration that I almost feel bad for him.
I sigh and wave it off. “It’s not for me to judge you two on the actions of a nutcase like your father.” I frown at the relieved look they shoot to one another. I didn’t play much of a role with raising the witches in the younger circles when I lived in Coveton, but I get the sense that perhaps I shouldn’t be letting them off so easily. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be more responsible in the future,” I add, lamely.
Both of them nod vigorously, and I sigh, my shoulders drooping.
“Get some rest,” Elsie advises, snapping back into healer mode so fast I can barely process the change.
I glance at the door. “I don’t want to leave them. Val…”
“Valorean will be fine,” Elsie insists. “He’s a strong bond mage, and you’re not going far. We’ll get you if anything changes.”
Beside her, Cooper stiffens, face going slack with shock. “Valorean? Valorean Castleman?”
All three of us frown at him. “No, Valorean Deadwood,” I reply, confused.
He sinks back into his chair. “My mistake. It’s an unusual name, I just thought… Nevermind.”
Reva huffs in impatience and turns back to me. “We’ll set up the ritual. Elsie’s right, you need to sleep.”
Sleep is unlikely after what I just went through, but I nod, anyway. “Fine.”
Chapter Eleven
NILSA
After a few long hours spent tossing and turning and generally annoying Opal, I give up on sleep and sit on the floor. I try desperately to meditate while my familiar snores beside me, praying for some inner peace, or whatever it is meditation is supposed to do to calm my nerves.
It doesn’t help. Sitting still is no better than lying in bed. My thoughts race either way, and I abandon my spot on the floor after only a few minutes.
I refill Opal’s reserves of magic, then start organising everything for the ritual again, ordering and reordering my clothes, my weapons. Everything.
The nervous energy just won’t dissipate.
When Klaus finds me, I’ve given up and turned to pacing the moonlit patio outside. My siren wraps his arms around me, stopping me in my tracks and twirling me until my face is tucked into his chest. His skin is smooth and unblemished, despite the broken sternum and fractured ribs he sustained in the battle, and I say a silent prayer of thanks to the Goddess for Elsie as I stroke the soft lines of his tattoos.
“I sensed your frustration when I searched for you using the bond,” he explains, dropping his head to press a light kiss to my lips. “You can’t sleep?”
“No,” I admit, leaning into him. “Too much energy left from the fight.”
It’s a lame excuse, and we both know it, but he doesn’t call me out on my bullshit. Instead, he draws back with a soft, sympathetic smile.
“Spar with me?”
I take the offered lifeline without hesitation. “On the beach?” I say.
It’s close enough to the cellar that Val shouldn’t suffer any ill effects from my absence, but far enough away to give me some space.
He gives me a mock, courtly bow. “Lead the way.”
We don’t make small talk as we leave the palace. Klaus seems to sense I’m too wound up for it, and settles for taking my hand in his instead. The instant my feet hit sand, I kick off my shoes, abandoning them by the base of the steps to pick up later and head for a clear space.
Mirna’s beaches are famously lush, and the small, secluded cove beneath Sade’s home is no exception.
The white sand reflects the moonlight, making the ocean and palm trees dark and inky by comparison. Klaus’s normally sunny good looks have taken on a silvery hue under the Goddess’s light.
“Hand-to-hand only,” I mutter, discarding my knives. “I’m too distracted for weapons.”
Klaus gives me a nod, stabbing his trident into the sand beside my knives before taking up a defensive stance.
My hand darts out, going for the soft space below his ribs. Klaus blocks, trapping my arm against his side and spinning us. A cheap shot at his knee forces him to free my trapped limb, but he blocks the second shot I aim at his shoulder before we break apart, panting.
“You’re going easy on me,” I complain. “You should be wiping the floor with me right now with your speed.”
Witches are pretty much human when we don’t use our magic to enhance our abilities. Sirens—by comparison—are stronger and faster. Even without his siren song, he has the advantage.
“We’re sparring,” he replies. “You could easily jump into the spirit plane and take me out from behind, but you aren’t. I could easily outmatch you with my strength, but I won’t for the same reason.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t like feeling that you’re taking it easy on me.”
Klaus doesn’t hesitate to call me on my bullshit. “On any other day, I wouldn’t dare. But your trust in your other mates has just been shaken. Deep down, I think you’re waiting for me to do the same thing.”
“That makes no sense,” I scoff. “You never made a bargain with the Queen.”
“No, but how often do emotions follow logic?” He shrugs. “Your mind was prepared for it. You know they aren’t to blame, but anyone would feel wary after being hurt by their own mates.”
I choose to cut off the conversation by aiming a roundhouse kick at his stomach.
Klaus doesn’t say anything else after that. Both of us are too consumed by the fight—if you can call it that. The siren blocks my every move with a calm, even patience that doesn’t dissipate even as my attacks become more frenzied. My body might be occupied, but my mind is running riot. I’m over-thinking everything he just said. Replaying every second of the fight in the cave.
