Page 29 of Gabriel (Legacy of Heathens #4)

Amara

T he lantern swung with the ship’s motion, casting golden arcs that sliced across the cabin walls. The air was warm with the faint tang of salt and rusted metal.

Gabriel had been our prisoner for a week, and we’d slipped into an uneasy routine.

I was mostly the one who uncuffed him for the essentials like his bathroom breaks, food, and showers.

I’d even taken the liberty of procuring him toiletries and some clothes since he wasn’t really prepared for this little adventure.

He didn’t complain once, just watched me with those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see—and know—it all. Something was unsettling in the way he seemed to look at me as if he knew how this would end.

And then there was the silence in the criminal underworld—not even a whisper of Gabriel’s disappearance, which made me restless. That quiet made my skin itch and made me feel as if we were approaching doom. Whose exactly, remained to be seen.

We still had another two weeks before we’d reach Albania, and I was bored out of my mind. Elira was too, but she entertained herself by flirting with the crew.

Pushing the cabin door open, I paused, heartbeat stuttering. Gabriel lay sprawled across the narrow bed—handcuffed, restrained—and yet somehow managing to look like he’d booked himself a luxury cruise.

“I brought you some food and coffee,” I said, the words sticking slightly in my throat as I glanced down at the tray in my hands. “And more movies.”

He turned his head lazily toward me, lids half-lowered, like a jungle cat watching from the underbrush.

“Room service by my beautiful jailor. How decadent,” he purred. The smile touched his lips but not his eyes—those remained razor-sharp. “I must’ve done something right to deserve this kind of luck.”

His gaze was steady, tracking every twitch of my body like he could see straight through to the places I tried to hide.

“Not to worry.” He gave a casual tug against the cuffs. “Still shackled.”

I offered a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Good thing. I’d hate to have to kill you before we even reach our destination.”

His grin shifted—less charm, more teeth. “How you wound me, Amara! I thought you were joining me for a date with movies, music, and food, not threats.”

A sigh left my lips. “Always a charmer.”

“Only when it comes to you.” His voice dropped, low and rough.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re still trying to flirt your way out of every situation, I see.”

“Hey,” he said, stretching as much as the cuffs would allow. “I take what small pleasures I can around you.”

I stepped farther into the room, closing the space warily.

“You forget, those things don’t really work on me.” I set the tray down on the bedside table with a small clatter. “Besides, nothing can disguise the ruthless and calculating man underneath it all. Not even your hot, muscular body.”

He didn’t move, not even a blink, but the muscle in his jaw flexed once, betraying the tension he tried to mask. The stubble there was darker now, giving him a worn-in edge he hadn’t had when we first met.

“Gosh, preciosa , I don’t know if I can take so many compliments at once.”

“Somehow I feel you’d fish for even more if you could,” I scoffed. “You feed off them, Santos.”

He didn’t answer, and beneath the silence, something simmered. It was a tether too frayed to name but too thick to break.

“I’d feed off your moans and your body too, but you’re not offering that, are you?” he retorted. “Why don’t we make a deal? My body for yours. Your information for mine.”

I snorted. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m never making that trade, and you’ll have to pry information from my cold, dead body.”

He chuckled, then murmured, “At least tell me, why kidnap me? Where are we headed?”

Instead of answering, I reached into my pocket, pulled out the key, and walked over to his side.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I warned, sliding the key toward the cuffs. “You know I won’t hesitate.”

“Oh, I know,” he purred, looking between me and the bedframe he was tied to. “You’re as dangerous as you are beautiful, but I’ve given you no cause to defend yourself or hurt me since you kidnapped me. Have I?”

I ran a finger along the metal, letting it hover over the cold steel before unlocking it, then leaned away as they clicked open. “No, you haven’t.”

“You can trust me, you know. I’d never hurt you,” he murmured slowly, taking a deep breath into his lungs. “Just tell me what you and your siblings have gotten yourself into and I’ll do everything in my power to help you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “All three of us?”

A flicker of tension passed through him. He masked it immediately, but not before I saw it in the faintest tightening of his shoulders.

“You’re my primary concern,” he finally said, leaning forward. “You’ve been the highlight of my days long before you kidnapped me.”

It was my turn to tense. “Don’t try flattery to get your way, Santos, or I’ll cuff you again.”

The corners of his lips tilted up. “If that’s what you want. Hell, I’d even let you spoon-feed me.”

“I’m not spoon-feeding you.”

“Afraid I’ll bite?”

“I know you will,” I muttered.

He flexed his wrists and rubbed at the red marks there, his eyes never leaving mine. Heat crawled up my spine. I shifted my weight and rested a hand on the butt of my gun, grounding myself in the comfort of cold steel.

“Eat,” I said, sharper than I meant. “I don’t have time to babysit you all day.”

“I thought we’d share a meal, listen to romantic songs, and then finish the day with a cliché movie. It’ll be like a real date.”

“I don’t think so.” Dammit, why did my voice sound like I actually wanted to do those things with him?

He chuckled and picked up the tray, eating with the focused ease of a soldier who’d learned to take what time was given him. But even then, his eyes flicked up, watching and waiting.

The memory of his mouth—soft and firm all at once—surfaced like a betrayal. The kiss I’d used to distract him the night I drugged him still hummed through me, haunting me. I wished I hadn’t used that tactic, because oblivion was so much better than knowing how good his kiss felt.

“You never told me where we’re going,” he said between bites. “And as flattering as this private cruise is, I’ve got responsibilities and a family who’ll be wondering where I am.”

“Well, they still haven’t started searching for you,” I pointed out, drawing a dismissive sound from him. “Anyhow, we’re sailing east.”

“East?” he questioned. “It’s a big ol’ world out there, can’t you be more specific?”

“No.”

His whole posture shifted, just enough for me to catch it.

“Are you trying to start a war?” His voice dropped an octave, no longer amused. “Or are you and your siblings just plain stupid?”

I leaned in until I could feel his breath on my cheek.

“Careful, Gabriel. I won’t blink twice before cutting that silver tongue out.”

He didn’t flinch. “As long as it’s not my dick, we’re square.”

“Men,” I muttered. “Besides, I already told you. Nobody’s looking for you, so no danger of starting a war.”

He set the fork down.

“What are you and Elira doing, Amara? Following Jet’s orders? You think his twin’s really on your side? Those two would sell each other out to save their own skin. What makes you think they’d be loyal to you?”

“You’re wrong about that.”

He puffed out his chest. Arrogant prick . “No, I’m not, and deep down you know it.”

The problem was that I believed Jet and Elira would always have each other’s backs before mine. It was only natural, and I never minded it. But that didn’t mean I thought they would ever betray me.

“And where is Jet?” He studied me like he was trying to pick apart lies from half-truths.

“You tell me.”

“Why the hell would I know?” he snapped, finally cracking.

But I didn’t flinch. I had questions of my own that I couldn’t ask.

“You and Jet… You didn’t make some kind of deal?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Anyone who trusts Jet enough to make a deal is either desperate or suicidal.”

“That’s not true.” It was. God help me, it really was .

“Where are we going, Amara?”

I finally decided it didn’t matter if he knew or not. He was stuck here under my guard, under my and Elira’s watchful eye.

“Albania.”

His breath caught and stillness followed.

“ Anya .” Her name came out like an oath. Sacred. Tender. “You’re making a mistake,” he said, voice tightening.

“We’re just following the coordinates we were given.”

“To my fucking sister ,” he growled, launching forward. “Jet’s leading you straight to Anya. He wants her!”

My gun was out before he took his next breath.

“Back off,” I ordered coldly. “Put your hands on the rail, or I’ll make sure you reach our destination riddled with bullets.”

For a long beat, he didn’t move. Then he exhaled and let a blank mask fall over his features.

“Here.” He placed his hands where they’d been earlier. “Happy?”

“Put the cuffs back on. Through the rail.”

He obeyed, and I leaned in to lock them—close enough that his lips brushed my ear—as he whispered, “You’re going to regret this, Amara. Your brother wants my sister.”

Click.

I stepped back, holstered my gun, and picked up the silverware that scattered all over the floor in silence. Then I powered up the television and selected Stephen King’s Misery from the movie options, which I thought was fitting, before heading for the door.

“Jet has never even met Anya.” If Anya had met him, she would have surely mentioned it. “We’re halfway there,” I said without looking at him. “Enjoy the quiet while it lasts.”

“Your love for your siblings is blinding you.”

“And your paranoia about your sister is blinding you ,” I said softly. “I promise you, Santos, Jet doesn’t want Anya. She’s not his type.”

“She’s all he’s wanted,” he said, fury laced with fear. “For almost a year.”

I startled, my hand pausing on the doorknob, then shook my head. He was trying to get a rise out of me, that was all.

I glanced at him over my shoulder and said, “There’s no scenario in which Jet would have met Anya, much less have something to do with her. He would have told me otherwise.”

Would he ? I questioned myself silently. Jet was notoriously private when it came to his love life, so maybe he wouldn’t. However, Anya would, and she had definitely not mentioned my brother.

“Anya is the key to whatever your brother’s up to,” Gabriel gritted, and I had no doubt that he believed it. Yet, it seemed unfathomable. Right?

He stared at me, eyes sharp, but behind the steel, something cracked. “Wherever this goes… you’re going to regret not trusting me.”

“We’re all already regretting something,” I whispered.

He didn’t answer. Only the soft clink of chains followed me out and the heavy silence of everything we weren’t saying.