Page 17 of Liar Witch

I almost retch as I see what he’s talking about. His fingers are lightly probing Nilsa’s right hand where a black dagger is fused to her flesh in a mess of burns and sores.

Her wrists are raw. Even her delicate little toes are mutilated. The places where the nails should be are red and bloodied.

That isn’t even counting the fang marks just below her collarbone. Rysen will beat himself bloody when he regains his senses and sees those.

Only her ‘dress’ is unscathed. The fabric is miraculously dry and free of stains, despite the swim she just had—probably thanks to her magic. As I watch, a dribble of blood drips from Ry’s bite and hits the garment, only to slide right off that as well.

“She’s been fucking tortured.” Cas’s growl is inhuman, his eyes bright turquoise with the presence of his beast.

I have one crew member mad with bloodlust, another lost to his beast, and a mate who’s barely breathing, covered in the kind of wounds that only come at the hands of a sadist.

Fuck.

“Cas, I need you to keep it together,” I say, kneeling beside Nilsa’s body. “You got her here, and now we have to get her healed. She needs you to stay human.”

He just looks at me, despondent. “How do we heal this?”

TheDeadwooddrops to full sail in answer, cruising away from the rubble that had once been the Claw.

“We go back to the witches. To Sanctum.”

“We neverfoundSanctum. And there’s a fleet of Castleman ships headed there right now, remember?”

“If we get close enough, I have a feeling the witches will find us. In the meantime, do we move her?”

Kier shakes his head and points up.

The moon is still shining, and that damned knife in Nilsa’s ruined hand is pulsing in an answering glow.

Come to think of it, her whole body is glowing.

Does moonlight help Lunars heal? Or is it damaging her?

“We need to get some of Ry’s blood into her, and we need to move that dagger.” It feels good to make a decision; to have any kind of plan at all.

Getting the blood out of the vampire is going to be the issue. Even now, the bars of the brig are taking a beating. Only my magic is keeping them intact, and I can’t hold out against a vampire forever.

The cat distracts me from my thoughts as she wobbles her way to her feet and takes a few steps towards the hatch before collapsing. Titan—who’s come out of hiding now that the noise has stopped—approaches cautiously, then gives the tiny, soggy piece of fur a huge lick, tail wagging like mad at the return of his feline friend.

At least someone’s happy.

I pull my shirt over my head and wrap it around my hand before nudging the blade away from Nilsa. Even through the fabric my fingers burn with cold, but the moment the two are disconnected, the glow disappears from them both. I might be imagining it, but I’m sure the Moon overhead dims slightly as well.

What the actual fuck? What kind of magic has our mate been playing with?

“Keep an eye on her,” I say to the twins. “I’m going to...”

Stab my crazed friend, in hope of stealing some of his blood to save her.

I shoot Kier a look. “Fancy giving me a hand?”

He raises a single brow and looks pointedly at Nilsa, then his own fang-marked body.

I guess he’s not leaving her side, either.

Why does being the Captain always land me the worst fucking jobs?

Sinking through the decks is second nature, and it doesn’t take me long to reappear in the brig.