Page 37 of Bloody Black

That’s true. And I can tell from the lieutenant’s face that he knew. “Ah, but that means you may not have heard the latest news… Blackbeard killed three men there. In a brothel. One of them was so mutilated, they have yet to identify him.”

Three? I guess the ladies of Sinner’s Rest had other scores to settle. Good for them.

At that exact moment, a boot thuds between them, falling straight out of the sky like a stone.

To his credit, Robb doesn’t even flinch.

Larew, however, leaps backward, as if he’s expecting to be struck next by an anvil. “What the fuck?” he exclaims, and peers at the black shoe. “Did one of you bastards throw a shoe at me?”

Domino smothers a laugh, pretending to cough. Teach feigns being busy.

Lieutenant Larew looks up to find Roger hanging, black cloak twining around him. Apparently, his foot has rotted through at the least convenient time.

Show off.

Larew works his jaw. “Mutineer?” he asks finally.

“You know how it is. Have to keep the sailors on their toes.” Robb glances down. “Perhaps that was a poor turn of phrase. Anyway… I’ll have someone fetch the other one. We can reuse those.”

Larew makes a face, probably imagining the sea of maggots that are inside that boot. “Indeed.”

Holly peers over, and her red hair catches his eye.

Like a shark drawn to blood, he lifts his head. “Surprised you have free women aboard. Though I suppose they keep the odds of mutiny down.” Nonchalantly, he strolls closer, his gaze lingering on her breasts.

“They make good sailors,” Robb kneels to pick up a coin from the deck, which is the first time that I notice he has a knife tucked into the back of his pants. Where did he get that?

“What do you say, beautiful?” Larew asks Holly. “Do you have a man?”

Domino slowly smiles, eyeing him—Larew has on a wedding band. Prudence’s hand drifts down to one of the guns holstered at her hip.

Unexpectedly, Robb intervenes . He puts his arm around Holly’s waist and draws her to his side. “This one is mine.”

I’m not sure who is more shocked, Holly or me. But she doesn’t flinch uncomfortably, like I would; she doesn’t pull away, revolted by his touch. Instead, Holly leans in, looks up at him adoringly. Too genuine to be acting.

Robb pulls Holly even closer, his tone casual, but with an arm like iron. “She talks in her sleep,” he says, brushing a kiss to her temple. “Drives me mad.”

Holly lets out a breathy laugh, and her fingers toy with one of the brass buttons on his jacket. His hand drifts over Holly’s waist, and something stirs in my belly. A bubbling, nameless thing. Even though it’s fake, even though I know that the moment is completely contrived… it stings.

It’s a little unnerving, how easily the lies slip off Robb’s lips like honey. He lies as if he’s born to do it, straight-faced and without a single tell. He’s entirely too good at falsehood, and that makes me wary.

“What of that one?” Larew jerks his chin toward Prudence.

Lunatic. She would be thrilled to kill you. I would love to see her do it. Our eyes meet, and she gives me a small, secretive smirk. We know each other far too well.

But Robb is having none of that. “That one too.”

Larew blinks. Recalculates. “Really, Lieutenant? Is every woman on this ship yours?” Clearly he doesn’t like being challenged. For a heartbeat, it seems like he’ll push the issue, maybe try to assert dominance.

“My ship. My women. My rules.” Robb’s index finger trails over the pistol tucked against his hip.

One wrong word, one wrong move, and our swords can be drawn… but unfortunately, Jonas Larew is no fool. He glances around our circle, assessing his odds, then gives Robb a pleasant smile.

“My apologies, Lieutenant,” Larew says smoothly. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Indeed, you didn’t.” Robb stands tall, imposing, his face unreadable.

Larew licks his teeth like he’s tasting something bitter, then tips an invisible hat. “Perhaps it’s better that we be off, then. Don’t want to keep His Majesty waiting. Pirates to catch, you know.”

Just before he steps onto the board, he glances back over his shoulder. “Glad to see you haven’t lost your edge.” He returns to The Ambassador , followed by his five men, and we all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

Everything went according to plan: no bloodshed, no betrayal. The sea stretches wide and calm, a fine wind filling our sails.

Despite all that, I feel deeply unsettled.

I pace the quarterdeck, go to the stern. I stare back at The Ambassador . She drifts slowly behind us, crew busy, her blue lacquered hull baking in the sun. Male voices drift faintly across the water.

There are eyes on me. Watching.

Eyes. Two. Ten. Then, more. Not crewmen, not officers.

Small and haunted faces peer at me from the portholes. The Ambassador carries slaves, captives. Women. One lifts a hand, reaching. Signaling a silent plea.

My gut turns to iron.

That bastard. Larew and Robb both. I shouldn’t let them go. I should turn back and kill every man on board. Leave none of them standing.

“Captain?”

I don’t blink. I don’t breathe. I’m thinking.

“Captain?” Teach says again, this time sharper. “Due North?”

North, to Celestia. North, to where William occupies my throne, where he hires men like Jonas Larew.

Larew is a symptom, but not the root of the problem.

The root, twisted, dark, and growing its poisonous fruit: William.

William, always him. The faster I have him off my throne, the sooner Celestia can return to peace and prosperity.

“Hoist the sails,” I say through gritted teeth. “Put that filth in our wake.”