Page 14

A Sea Shanty Shifter

T he second the red-headed male started singing some sea shanty song about the devil and drunks, Nero groaned.

The easy grin and playful manner told me the male was having the time of his life up there on the stage, and I couldn’t help but once again think about Marcus.

Especially considering he most likely would have been up there too.

I had a feeling that these two would get along swimmingly.

The male’s light red hair was longer on top with the sides shaved short, and every time he caught the eye of a girl in the audience, he ran his fingers through it while granting them a wink. A sight that made Nero sigh, as if totally immune to his charms.

As for the rest of him, he had a neatly trimmed beard, dimples, and hazel eyes that had flecks of green.

He had a slim, athletic build, rather than heavy muscles for brute strength.

And yet even when dancing and singing about demonic drunks and playing a flamboyant character, it was easy to see that he was not to be crossed.

The number of weapons strapped to his body said as much, but it was the black and golden bow peeking up from his back that told me he was most likely a true marksman.

So no, I wasn’t fooled by his easy, spirited demeaner but then again, I had never been fooled by Marcus either.

I was right not to be, as the male spun on a heel, giving the crowd a hint of his dangerous side when his thick leather jacket flared out.

Everything from daggers, throwing stars, and a small axe were seen attached to the multiple belts he had hanging from his waist. Belts that helped keep his breacan in place, which was the Gaelic word for tartan.

This was worn folded over pants that tapered down in to a pair of shit kicker boots, much like my own.

“This is great and all, but I have to say, I think I preferred the Posh-Vern spell,” Amelia said.

“Oh, this isn’t on me, that’s all him,” Nero replied with a scoff.

“Hmm, he’s not half bad. He can definitely carry a tune, I will give him that. Did you know he could sing?” Amelia asked the witch, who just shrugged her shoulders.

“Clearly, there’s a lot about Vern I didn’t know…

er… not that I care,” Nero added after Amelia gave her a sympathetic look and honestly, her fake nonchalant tone was fooling no one.

In fact, she reminded me a lot of Smidge in that regard.

As she too was more often than not trying to fool people into thinking that she didn’t care about Marcus when we all knew the truth.

The more I watched him, the more he reminded me of my best friend in some ways. Especially the way he was now draining his tankard dry while the instrumental part of the song played out. He swayed his body like he didn’t have a care in the world.

But I knew better. Others watching him would no doubt think he was drunk, or at least one drink away from falling on his arse.

But they would be wrong.

Something that was proven when one of the demons at a nearby table started hurling abuse at him, shouting about how shit of a singer he was.

But then quicker than eyes could track, the shifter had plucked one of the blades from his belt and threw it at the rude bastard.

It was done with such skill that it ended hitting the bottom of the guy’s tankard just as he was lifting it up to his lips to drink.

From my position, I could see the way his bulging eyes crossed as the heckler took in the sight of the blade at the bottom of his tankard.

Then his eyes slowly trailed over the rim to the singer who had just made it clear he wasn’t about to put up with his shit.

A cocky wink was the singer’s only reply, making the demon gulp down hard.

Naturally, this instantly made me like the guy.

Because it also proved that, despite how drunk he appeared, any assumptions made with this guy could very well end up getting you killed.

For clearly, he was always at the ready for the fight.

And now every demon in the place knew it too.

Which meant that by the time the song ended, all this Vern needed to do was raise a single brow at the demon heckler, and he was up out of his seat clapping with the rest of them.

The heckler cheered the loudest in order to save his own leathery red skin no doubt.

“Ye Bastards and Lasses, ye hae bin a grand audience, bit th' ale be speaking tae me, sae if ye needs me, ah wull be at th' bar,” Vern said, making me laugh when Amelia screwed up her face in confusion.

“Gods, it was so much easier when he was Posh Vern,” she complained.

“I know, right?” Nero agreed.

This was the second time they mentioned a Posh Vern, making me frown in question, but my look must have said it all, as Lucius slapped a hand to my shoulder and advised,

“Don’t ask.”

We followed the McBain brother as he jumped from the stage and made his way towards the bar.

Slowing his steps long enough to yank his blade from the heckler demon’s tankard as he passed.

His jolly swagger caught the eyes of a group of female demons that looked eager for him to approach.

Meanwhile the band continued to play, keeping up with the pirate theme.

But this time the violinist sang, taking Vern’s place.

The famed sea shanty, ‘Fifteen Men on a Dead Man’s Chest,’ soon started to fill the room.

What was surprising was that Vern seemed completely uncharmed by the females that surrounded him, making me question why. Because I had to say, at a glance it seemed out of character as he turned them down one by one.

Although it was true that I didn’t know the shifter well enough to really question why. But I had been around long enough to recognize a man with a single woman on his mind. Something that all made sense as he glanced around the room before spotting us instantly.

His eyes scanned each of us all before quickly lingering on a single figure, causing his hazel gaze to glow golden as it landed on Nero.

The females around him were then left to watch as his expression transformed, now sporting the biggest grin as he walked towards us.

Oh yes, I knew that look alright. The shifter had it bad for the little witch.

“Nero! Ye Bonnie Lass, come 'ere 'n' gimme a hug!” he said, making her put her hands on her hips and give him a seething look in return. However, this didn’t seem to deter him at all.

Instead, he scooped her up, wrapping his arms around her, lifting her from the floor, and leaving her feet dangling in the air.

“Put me down you… you…” she protested, making him chuckle as she was lost for words. But then he saw Amelia, and Nero’s struggles were answered as he placed her down before taking Amelia by the shoulders, saying,

“Amelia, tis bin tae lang!” Then he hugged her, making Lucius growl under his breath before stepping up behind his Chosen and placing his hands at her waist. This was so as he could pull her gently back a step and into his hold. Then he muttered under his breath,

“Not long enough, unfortunately.”

Vern just grinned like he found the King’s irk amusing, nodding to Lucius in greeting and chuckling, before saying behind his hand,

“Aye a crabbit bratach salach, is he?”

I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw Lucius frown and Amelia admitted,

“I have no idea what you just said, Vern.”

He winked at her and, of course, I knew he had just referred to the Vampire as being a grumpy dirty bastard. But then again, I had spent enough time around the Scottish to recognize the Scots Gaelic.

“A dinnae ken this yin,” he said, referring to me and the fact that he didn’t know who I was. So, I held out my hand for him to shake and told him,

“I’m…”

“Jared Cerberus.” Another heavily accented voice spoke for me, one that came from behind. So, I turned around to find another auburn-haired man, who I instantly took to be another McBain brother.

A McBain brother that Lucius clearly didn’t like all that much. Especially when I heard him growl his name…

“Trice McBain.”