Page 16

Chapter Six

The chest hit the dock with a loud thud that reverberated up through his feet. The waves had kicked up during the day, crashing against the piers and spraying over the rock walls. The scent of electricity and salt warned of an impending storm, the occasional rumble of thunder lighting fires beneath sailors’ asses.

Caspian hooked his thumbs on his leather belt, his patience wearing thin. He sat on needles all day, his attention continually veering from the job at hand to the woman waiting in his home. Aria was dangerous to him in more ways than he could name. The distractions that burdened him were hers alone. The increase in the number of royal guards patrolling the streets of Alamari didn’t sit well with him. When two came knocking on his office door a few hours ago, they left him bristling with anger, concern and curiosity.

What in the name of the gods was going on?

Keeping his impassive mask in place became a chore as one of the filthy mates fumbled with a large key. The man kept looking out at the roaring sea, apprehension clear on his face. His partner fidgeted, discomfort apparent in his darting eyes.

“You are my last ship and this is the last item I need to document. I don’t care to be stuck here when this storm rolls in. Surely you men wish to find yourselves swimming in mead and nuzzling a wanton’s breast, yes?”

The prospect of feminine charms always brought men like these to attention.

The one who handled the key seemed to find his balls and his aim. He popped the latch on the padlock and tugged the bulky thing off the hook.

He exchanged a satisfied, toothless grin with his partner, and the two men lifted the lid.

“Found it floating on the surface. Looks like sharks had at it.”

Caspian somehow managed to keep his shudder hidden beneath a faint sheen of magic. The sway of his feet, though, he wasn’t sure about. The docks, the ships, and the two silly smiling men in front of him faded from his awareness as his gaze focused on the mutilated corpse stuffed in the chest.

“…much is the king offering for these? ‘Cause that tail is pretty.”

He barely processed the man’s inquiry as he crouched down on his haunches. Infusing his muscles with another bout of strengthening magic, he kept himself from falling on his ass and looking the fool in front of these two imbeciles.

For long breaths, he stared in disbelief. The familiar iridescent patches of scales along gray-white arms. The ridges along the back. The tail. The multihued coloring, dulled in death, tapered to a once majestic feathery tail, stuffed haphazardly into the chest. There was no doubting a shark had attacked, and judging by the different sizes of the bites and chunks missing, he ventured to guess at least three sharks.

He reached forward, intending to move the tangled mess of lavender hair aside, but hesitated.

He knew who this was. He didn’t need confirmation.

The scales and tail alone were markers of a single family.

Pressing his lips together, he lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Fuck.

“Um, sir?”

Caspian growled under his breath. He couldn’t let Jethro get his hands on this chest. On the body inside.

“Close the lid,” Caspian demanded. The men followed his orders immediately, eyes wide. He pressed up off his haunches, swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat. His gaze shifted to the darkening sky and the white caps the storm had pushed to shore. This was no coincidence. This storm drank from the power of the gods, the grief of a mother.

This storm promised revenge. Destruction.

Caspian was all the more happy to let it happen.

He flicked his hand in a motion for the men to follow him. “Bring it to my office. I will pay you the reward. Then, off you go and be sure to keep quiet about it. Men know the price for a mermaid, and they’ll just as soon slit your throat for your coin than cheer you for a successful find.”

“But doesn’t the king—”

“The king will receive the chest,” he snapped. The icy tone shut the men up. They fell into silence, their muffled grunts and heavy breaths the only assurance they continued to follow his lead. Inside the warehouse, he motioned to the floor. “Leave it there. Come with me.”

He led the men up the stairs to his second-story office. Their excitement prickled along his back, dense yet silent. He never glanced over his shoulder, never spared the two men a moment, his mind a whirlwind of fury, worry, and a slight edge of panic.

When he reached his desk, he made it seem like he was unlocking a bottom drawer while he manifested a pouch of coins. He lifted the velveteen bag, intoning a spell of secrecy, and dropped it on the desk, allowing the men to hear the jingle of coins and the weight with which it met the blotter. Their expressions spoke of their elation.

“The full reward for your find is there. I will be sure to notify the guards so they can retrieve the chest and deliver it to King Jethro. Your job here is complete.”