Page 14

Chapter fourteen

T he world felt different on her skin somehow. Canvas sails billowed overhead, snapping in the wind like great wings straining to take flight as the breeze whipped around her. Fine droplets of sea spray misted her face, tasting like brine and freedom, so different from being trapped in the stale confines of that cabin with Raggon, and yet… there was something about his presence that also put her at ease.

Who was this man? His earlier rejection of her had stung. She’d been looking for comfort and he’d practically shoved her away in his attempt to escape her disgusting mermaid touch. So why was he now stealing glances at her? And why was she melting every time she caught his eyes? She shouldn’t! Her father needed her to be strong.

Now, he went over the chart with his most loyal man, the one he called the Duke. The strength of Raggon’s back broadened out to powerful shoulders, his every move commanding as he mapped a course to Undine Isles.

Clearly, Raggon was only using her. He cared nothing for her. And still, he didn’t stray too far from where he’d placed her on crossbeams of an overturned longboat.

She soon knew why. Noticing the threatening looks the rough crewmen gave her made her insides crawl with misgiving, especially from the one named, August. That horrid whip of his curled around his gun belt, along with a sharp and wicked dagger, but his empty green eyes were the most terrifying of all. They hunted her every move, running over her strange attire. She’d had to tie her borrowed breeches up with a rope, and the cambric chemise kept slipping maddeningly over her shoulder, the strange fabric chafing against her skin in a way that made her long for the weightless freedom of water.

Raggon returned to her, and without a moment’s hesitation, she moved closer to him. Despite the constant sparkle of his eyes, he’d never looked at her that way. No, he watched her with the warmth of the sea’s melody singing over the waves… well, when she wasn’t trampling over his territory.

“Ready to start learning how to walk?” Again? The man was relentless! She sensed the steel of determination under his light words.

No matter Scylla’s reassurances that she wouldn’t bear Undine’s burden of pain like daggers in her every step, Thessa wasn’t so sure. Her feet hurt every time she tried them out, a strange burning sensation traveling up through ankles that still felt foreign to her.

“Walking takes time to figure out,” he said. “If you ask my nursemaids, they’d tell you that it took me a good long year of falling flat on my butt before I became the man you see today.”

Her eyes widened.

He grinned. “I’ll give you a day to figure it out… well, maybe two.” Of course, the isles were looming nearer and time was running out. Without warning, his fingers found hers, twining through them and making her stare in wonder when they fit so perfectly with hers, though the difference was stark—his were dark with sun, and hers pale as the water would allow. The rough calluses on his palms sent an unexpected shiver up her arm, despite how the tropical sun heated the bareness of her skin and left it parched and alien feeling.

He helped her to her feet, guiding her over the deck. She felt so foolish, and so maddeningly dependent on this man who was the sworn enemy of her people. She took another faltering step. “You have it.” He disappeared into a spray of seafoam, materializing a few steps in front of her to give her a target to move towards.

She gasped, always so disconcerted at how he manipulated the air in such a way. Her pulse quickened as he faced her, the morning light gilding his features, turning his eyes into pools of impossible blue—deeper and more changeable than the seas.

The signs of his Sylphorian royal blood should’ve been a dead giveaway that she was dealing with a prince. Just like her aunt thousands of years ago, Thessa was repeating history by sailing the seas with a handsome stranger who stole the breath from her new lungs, though at least this prince had given her the bed, and not the floor. She would see how long that courtesy lasted—certainly not after the Undine Blade was found.

But she had her own plans.

His hands went to hers again. There was no avoiding his touch, at least for now. The contact sent a jolt through her that she tried desperately to ignore, her skin tingling where his fingers grazed hers. All while he’d been desperate to get away from her earlier. Yeah, don’t be fooled—he hates your kind! She should probably feel relieved, but instead she was annoyed.

And I’m a silly sea-sponge.

Desperate to find a reason to resist his manipulation, her eyes drew to the flapping flag above them with the telltale sign of the crimson beast. “When did you start serving the Land Witch?”

“I don’t,” he said bluntly.

Surprise shivered through her and, immediately, she didn’t believe him. “You’re sailing under her flag.”

“And I stole one of her ships, so I guess you can say I’m on Circe’s bad side—I’m sure she’s heartbroken, seeing as I’m engaged to be married to her.”

Thessa stumbled over her feet, seeking his eyes. They were crinkled at the sides with deep laugh lines. Why was that funny? “She is to be your wife?”

“Not if I can help it, but women have a tendency to be blindsided by my charm… as you say.”

He was deliberately provoking her again. “I imagine she’d like her children to inherit your royal powers.”

“You don’t say?” There was a teasing glint in his eyes. “And here I thought it was true love.” She felt a smile play on her lips in response. “It’s okay, Clam,” he said. “She’s got nothing on us.”

That almost made her trip again! He was impossible, and still her heart was reacting in ways that she sternly told to stop. And stop that smile too! So, he didn’t work for Circe! That didn’t mean that he wasn’t out for himself and trying to play her like shell chimes. And tell that to her mouth! It had gone rogue and she couldn’t stop the widening curve.

The scoundrel! Raggon was different from anyone she’d ever met—man or merfolk! His inviting smiles, his captivating touch, were all parts of his arsenal to get what he wanted. Nothing dimmed the fire in his soul on his way to the Undine Blade.

The smell of breakfast tormented her, though the thing they called gruel looked watery and had a strange tint to it. The men they passed ate it steadily with grim determination.

Raggon disappeared from her side in an instant. He reappeared with a bowl of the stuff in his hands. “Hungry?” he whispered into her ear, closer now, the heat of his body radiating toward her like a tide she couldn’t resist. Steam rose from the bowls in lazy curls, carrying an aroma that was both foreign and strangely appealing—nutty and earthy with hints of salt. “Would you like me to feed you too?” he asked.

She batted him away, though she clutched to the bowl with desperation. How bad could it possibly be? Her gaze trailed to the odd consistency—thick in places, watery in others, with mysterious dark specks throughout. She lifted the spoon to her lips, the unfamiliar metal cool against her mouth.

The rich salty taste exploded across her tongue—the texture was strange, both smooth and gritty at once, nothing like the delicate flavors of sea vegetation and raw fish she liked. These people were an odd people, their ways strange, and sometimes frightening.

She couldn’t allow herself to get lost in this world.

“Raggon!” Morris had returned and this time, his face held a look of warning. “I need a word with you at once.”

Raggon straightened from her, the dark linen of his shirt billowing in the wind, sleeves rolled to expose forearms corded with muscle and bronzed by the sun. Her eyes traced the line of veins visible beneath his skin, and as if to show her exactly what they could do, his grip tightened on her. Instead of allowing her to practice her walking, he practically carried her back to the longboat to sit. The other pirates let out sneering guffaws, August the loudest of them.

“Raggon!” she complained.

“Sorry, it’s urgent. I’ll let you walk when you can run.”

She bristled.

His black hair, untamed by the sea breeze, curled slightly at his nape where it escaped a leather cord. He gestured to a young man standing near the forecastle, where ropes were coiled in neat piles. “Tobias!”

Answering the summons, the sailor approached with an easy gait, tall and lanky with a mop of chestnut hair falling over earnest brown eyes. That annoying parrot from the cabin sat proudly atop his shoulder, his opalescent wings caught the sunlight, making his feathers gleam like sapphires and emeralds, each color shifting and changing with every slight movement. “Pretty fish! Pretty fish!” The obsidian gaze seemed all-knowing as it fixed on her. “Walk the plank!”

She rolled her eyes. That bird had been the bane of her existence last night, flying around the room and warning of dead man’s bones and women being bad luck. Raggon had finally let it out with a curse and a shout that was frankly a relief.

“Tobias,” Raggon gestured at her. “I need you to keep an eye on this beautiful lady…”

Thessa didn’t fight the endearment, or the verdict, noticing August creep closer at the hint that her protector was leaving her side. She felt so helpless when she couldn’t get away. “This is my brother,” Raggon explained.

Her gaze snapped back to the newcomer—Ah! She detected the royal similarities now, though Tobias was younger, leaner, not yet grown into a man. Despite that, he towered over most of them on the ship as he watched her, almost shyly. He settled next to her on the back of the lifeboat, making himself comfortable. “For the record, I think mermaids are great.”

She immediately warmed to him, though concern ate at her too. He was caught in his own prison—a fierce multi-alloy collar that made her heart ache to look at. Each breath made the eerie metals constrict tighter in a stranglehold.

“Are you really a daughter of Poseidon?”

“Huh?” Her eyes went back to his, seeing that he was attempting to make conversation. She swallowed. “Yes… he’s my father.”

“Well… Undine’s his sister. I think that makes us cousins?”

What was he talking about?

Raggon laughed. “No, we’re not related, even a little bit—Undine lived a long time ago. The blood of the Sea Sovereignty that flows in our veins has been diluted for more than a thousand years. We’re not exactly kissing cousins… more like thirty-eighth cousins a hundred times removed. Anyway, we’re more closely related to Morris than to her.”

“That’s kissing cousins… by definition.”

Raggon rolled his eyes and changed the subject: “Hey, look! A storm’s coming…”

Tobias threw him another teasing look. “Why so desperate to distance yourself from being a part of her little sea family anyway?”

Morris was glaring at them from across the ship, but still Raggon stayed to defend his position. “Don’t look at it too deeply, little brother.”

“What?” Her eyes moved between them like a musket ball ricocheting between battling ships. She was hopelessly lost by their verbal sparring. Did they have some kind of legend that she didn’t know about? Some filthy lie to elevate their people’s importance by promoting them to Sea Sovereignty, of all things! After what that man they called a descendant did to Undine? “What does this have to do with my family?” she asked.

“Yeah, what’s going on, Raggon?” Tobias asked. She’d be a blind reef fish not to notice he was laughing at Raggon’s hunted expression. “You don’t want to be part of the great Sea Sovereignty?” his brother asked. “Is that it?”

“We’re not related at all,” she sputtered. Their deplorable ancestor caused her aunt’s death, but it hardly seemed polite to point out… or diplomatic, considering her present situation—

“See?” Raggon cut in. “We’re not remotely related, and you and I, Tobias, are far too removed to be heirs of the Sea Sovereignty. I don’t know why everyone’s so eager to pick up on that distant connection lately.” His gaze shot to Morris, who was now in deep conversation with a stern-faced man studying charts at the quarterdeck. Escaping this conversation on the excuse that the old advisor needed him clearly wasn’t going to work anymore. Raggon turned back to them. “Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to chart the waters of—of,” his eyes veered to her, “my family tree before I consider… uh…”

“Branching out?” Tobias suggested. His eyes brightened in a look that was far too innocent for that mischievous grin.

Raggon threw his hands up with a grumbling laugh. “Did I make a mistake putting you in charge of her?”

Probably!

A crash and chorus of curses erupted as the morning’s porridge pot overturned on deck. Among the chaos, August towered over the others, his bare chest displaying tattoos of harpoons thrown at merfolk, their faces frozen in terror. He caught Thessa staring, and grinning menacingly, he deliberately flexed so the inked creatures seemed to writhe across his skin.

Noticing her involuntary flinch, Tobias glanced behind him, one hand instinctively rising to shield her from the raucous crew. His brown eyes squinted when he turned his head too quickly. That collar was choking him!

“Are you okay?” Her concerned fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as she scooted closer to inspect his hateful imprisonment. Dark veins spread from beneath the choker like ink in water. The skin around the black iron, in particular, had begun to pucker and take on an unusual texture.

His cheeks flared at her interest, and he tried to laugh off her worried gaze.

She dropped her hand, her eyes shooting to Raggon, who leaned against the gunwale with forced casualness, his gaze darting between his brother’s collar and the horizon like a caged shark. Was this why he looked at her with such raw hope when she’d mentioned Undine Blade, even as he’d locked her away? He was all barely contained violence and desperate plans.

Thessa shuddered at what would happen if she failed to liberate Tobias. The tortured vigilance in Raggon’s eyes told her everything. His younger brother was the one thread of humanity that kept this man’s soul from dropping into a deep abyss—his last saving grace that divided him from the heartless and cruel ruffians of this ship.

In an instant, she vowed that the first thing she’d do after finding Undine’s blade was to cut this boy free. She’d save two souls with that one act.

“I can’t imagine you got much sleep last night,” Tobias said with a pained grin, though still unbelievably laced with his family’s humor. “My brother’s a dirty bilge-rat—snores like a bear.”

She covered her mouth at his continual teasing, with no idea of what a bear was, and yet, the laugh that bubbled up from her own throat surprised her—a sound so different from her underwater songs, though somehow just as natural. Finally! Raggon was getting payback for his bad behavior last night.

“I have ear plugs if you need them, Princess.” There was nothing sarcastic when Tobias used her title, the boy was sincerity when it came to her.

“Don’t let him charm you, Thessa.” Raggon wrenched his anxious look from his brother and forced a lighthearted smile on tight lips. “Tobias is the mastermind behind our little surprise this morning.”

“Oh?” Tobias brightened. “You opened my birthday present?”

“Really? Is that what you call it? Don’t you mean booby trap!”

“Raggon,” the Duke called again, rougher this time. The weather-faced man arguing with him over maps was long gone. “This cannot wait.”

Shooting a sharp look of warning at his brother, against what she could only guess, Raggon disappeared, his body evaporating before he joined the Duke at the quarterdeck, where charts were spread across a weathered table, corners weighted down with navigational tools.

Thessa turned back to Tobias. “You’re an inventor?” She’d only learned the word that morning, but the idea of improving the natural world seemed like an enchanting concept. “What was that terrifying monster you made?”

“A wave whistler.” His eyes shone with pride. “It translates wave patterns into music—it senses the rocking of the waves and the sea creatures beyond—it can mimic anything from whale songs to wind whistles.”

She was fascinated. “So, that… thing was just attempting to mimic the sounds around it?” From the creaks in the ship, to her screams? The whistler had done a poor job, though now she wished it was in her hands, so they could play with it.

Of course, they’d never be able to collect it from the cabin without meeting up with trouble. If only she had her siren’s voice! Even now, August leered at her with a grin that showed more missing teeth than those hideous crooked yellowed ones. She turned her shoulder from the man’s cruel attempt at intimidation.

And then recoiled from the stink of his approach—disgusting! He was coming for her. Was everything an invitation to him—even ignoring him? The man had a strong unwashed human scent, the odor turning her stomach as he closed in. She tried not to provoke him by taking notice. An eerie dragging sound marked his movement, and glancing under her lashes as he circled her, she saw his whip trailing along the deck like an eel, the leather worn and darkened with use.

“The siren’s got legs now, but can she run?”

Her chin shot up, no longer able to pretend she wasn’t being stalked by a barracuda. She glared up at August. His lips curled into something that might have been a smile on a less vicious face. He was directly disobeying orders by talking to her. Would Raggon really permit such insubordination?

She kept her retort back, though if her father were here…? She’d enjoy witnessing August doing belly flops against the waves.

“What good are you to these boys, anyway?” August asked her. “Only a real man knows how to tame a Sea Witch.”

Tobias scrambled to his feet to stand between them. Thessa yelped out in fear. The younger boy was no match for the bulky giant’s muscle, and she could see the effort cost him dearly. Sweat beaded on Tobias’s forehead. “You remember what happened to Grell and Markus?” His voice was steady despite his labored breath. “My brother doesn’t take kindly to those who touch what’s his.”

I’m not his…! But she wasn’t about to correct Tobias in the face of August’s vicious gaze. The man was a shark… no worse—and he hadn’t even touched her yet, but his eyes promised cruelty.

August scoffed, spitting on the deck. “Your brother’s soft, playing nursemaid to a fish and a dying boy.” After a moment of matching Tobias’s steady glares, his gaze dropped and, with a growl, he blessedly moved away, muttering to a group of men. She couldn’t hear what they said, but it couldn’t be anything nice.

Glancing over at Tobias, she saw he’d grown paler. Her hands flew over his. His skin burned at the touch, and it had nothing to do with the overbearing sun. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, collapsing back onto the overturned longboat, his gaze meeting the warped planks of the deck. She noticed the whiteness of his knuckles as he let her go to clutch to the crossbeam. No, he was not okay!

Sterling’s wings beat frantically as he danced next to his master. “Dead men tell no tales! Beware the witch! Beware!”

Unable to keep back from him, Thessa reached for Tobias’s collar to inspect it closer as she would any ailing creature in her care—scales had begun to form where the strange heavy iron sank into the flesh, turning his neck black and gleaming like wet obsidian. On the other side of this strange imprisonment, shimmering steel—silvery as moonlight—clung to his neck like a partial choker, stubbornly clinging to the iron disappearing into his neck. The scales felt unnaturally smooth and cold against the rest of his feverish skin.

More than anything, she wished for her siren voice of healing. That was what she missed most—well, and she wouldn’t mind thrashing August within an inch of his life with the strength of her whipping tail.

Tobias winced under her touch. She’d been far too absorbed with her revenge fantasies, and she drew back with a muttered apology. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Tell me… how did this happen?”

“Circe put it on me—it’s the Typhon’s Kiss—said she’d control my brother through me.”

Thessa stiffened, remembering how Raggon had mentioned a betrothal. The alternate way to escape this curse was unthinkable— marry the Land Witch and watch what was left of his kingdom fade away. A chill ran down her spine despite the sweltering tropical heat. She had to get that blade and cut both brothers loose.

Sterling bobbed nervously, eyes fixed on Tobias. “The clouds speak! The clouds speak! Death from above!”

Tobias swallowed. “Something’s… urging me… pulling me away from my body. I can’t explain it.” His voice was hollow; for the first time, he allowed her to see his fear.

A crack of a whip exploded between them, its edge burning into her wrist like the sting of a jellyfish. She cried out, the pain sharp and immediate, spreading up her arm in fiery waves, even as Tobias rushed forward to block her from that monster’s whip.

“Oh, what will you do, lad? Scream for big brother?” August sneered; his voice laced with contempt.

She noticed that he’d gathered a crowd to back him up this time. The men’s weathered faces reeked of mutiny, years of superstition and hatred of her kind etched into every line and scar.

“No one threatens me, especially not a twig like you!” August coiled the braided leather of the whip through his fingers, the sinister whisper of its length cutting through the air. His empty gaze rested on Thessa, cold and possessive. “I found you first, siren. Before the captain. Before anyone. And what I find, I keep.”

The men around him shifted closer, a wall of flesh and fury. Low growls of agreement rumbled through them. Even more chillingly, she noticed the knives appear in more than one meaty hand. They formed a half-circle around August, transforming him from merely dangerous to unstoppable, each face promising violence if Tobias dared defy their new leader.

And still the boy didn’t move. His hands tightened to fists, the collar visibly tightening. “Thessa, go—”

August roared out his laughter. “What? No poof through the air? I thought Sylphorian princes were famous for running away… or is Circe’s magic to blame?”

“Keep away from her!”

The whip cracked with a sound like lightning splitting wood. Tobias cried out as the leather bit into his leg, tearing through fabric and skin in one vicious strike. Blood welled instantly, dripping down his bare calf. He staggered but remained standing, his body a human shield for Thessa.

She couldn’t let him sacrifice himself for her. “No!” Balancing on her shaky new feet, she tried to stand, the pain pulsating through her wrist as panic writhed through her insides, and still Tobias wouldn’t be budged.

August’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he slowly recoiled the whip, the leather now stained with their blood. He glared at Raggon’s younger brother. “You’ll be squealing like a stuck pig by the time I’m through with you.” August’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “We tire of the Tide of Shadows playing at captain.” The whip slithered between them like a tide crawler, its bloodied tip flicking across the deck boards. “He doesn’t get the girl. Not anymore.”

Sterling shrieked from above, “Blood in the water! Blood in the water!”

August lunged for Tobias. A sickening sound erupted from his attacker—wet and final. The point of a sword emerged from August’s chest, gleaming red in the sunlight. Behind him, Raggon’s hand materialized behind the hilt, followed by the rest of him, his face a mask of cold fury. With a single fluid movement, he wrenched the dying man upward by his collar. August’s boots dangled uselessly above the deck.

“No one,” Raggon growled, his voice barely human, “touches what’s mine.”

With a hoarse cry that seemed torn from the depths of his soul, he hurled August over the railing. The splash was swallowed by the waves as quickly as the short-lived rebellion he’d led. The gathered men scattered like startled fish, caps bobbing and heads bowing. Their earlier bravado had transformed into boots scraping against wood as they tried to appear busy with suddenly urgent ship duties.

Thessa found herself frozen, heart hammering against her ribs. Raggon was a killer who could transform from charming to lethal in the space of a heartbeat. And that devastating power had been unleashed in her defense. Could it be used against her too? Her skin prickled with gooseflesh.

His blue eyes, when they found hers, still burned with an intensity that made her catch her breath. They’d darkened to midnight, reflecting both rage and something else—something that made her quiver as he came for her next. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. “What’s this?” His fingers hovered just above the angry welt on her wrist. She was almost afraid to answer, and a muscle jumped in his jaw when the silence stretched between them. “Are you hurt, Clam?”

Clam again? And yet his voice had gentled, at odds with the storm still raging in his expression.

She managed a nod. The warmth of his fingers finally made contact with hers, sending a cascade of sensations through her—the sting of her wrist now mingled with a strange, tingling heat. She’d never been so confused. Her family were the only ones who came to her defense like this, and they’d never use their strength against her.

Would he? She knew next to nothing about this man.

Raggon turned to his brother, his fingertips still leaving traces of him against her skin. “Tobias?” The raw emotion that caught on that name made her throat tighten with unexpected sympathy. “Are you all right?”

Tobias nodded, moving his bleeding leg behind the longboat and from view. “Quit looking at me like you’re watching a corpse.” He rested his head against the bulwark. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah… sure…” Raggon didn’t look convinced.

She swallowed, not understanding why Tobias had been so willing to risk his life for her. These two were princes—rulers to the enemies of her people. Had this kind of gallantry been the reason that Undine had fallen for their ancestor?

Raggon patted his brother’s arm. “Thanks for watching out for her.”

His brother smiled weakly in response. The rapport between the two revealed a map to Raggon’s soul, revealing every vulnerability that he’d tried to hide from her, and more, far more. She’d been wrong about this Shadow of the Tide. Power didn’t drive him. Not greed. Not ambition. Only love for his brother, perhaps even for others under his care. And that hidden compass transformed him from pirate to prince in one devastating moment.

A shiver ran through her. A man with his depth was infinitely more dangerous to her heart.

She sneaked a glance at him, at the blood spattered against his worn boots, his labored chest rising and falling, and the fierceness in his eyes that sent her pulse racing. He found her hand again, tracing unconscious circles against her palm with his thumb, his calluses creating a delicious friction against her skin until she had to fight herself from leaning into him for more comfort.

He certainly didn’t want that! He’d pulled away from her earlier. And she… wasn’t doing that now? Uh oh! She was warming up to him like sunrise melting morning mist off the waves of the sea. Yeah… this was definitely not good!

Sterling flapped his wings excitedly, circling above them before landing on the ship’s rail. His bright eyes fixed on the horizon as he bobbed his head rhythmically. “Straight ahead! Straight ahead! Undine’s Blade awaits its queen!”

Raggon’s shoulder brushed against hers in a protective gesture so subtle she might have imagined it. He was going to keep her in one piece until they reached the isles.

After that? It was anyone’s guess.