Page 102 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

“That thing is obsessed with you,” I pry, wanting to see what that stirs within him.

Oh. There’s somethingmuchdeeper in there, unrelated to Jasmine. “I’m very aware.”

Basilisk's presence is such an odd one for me. It’s like when nostalgia paws at the brain, but revisiting home just isn’t thesameanymore. The mentorship I had with him is officially in our shared past. And yet I value that asshole, because the experience he has is not one many survive to revel in.

I stare back out at the ship known as Storm’s Fury. If I’m not mistaken, there’s roughly five total vessels that are known to frequently cross the Black Sea, and this is one.

Basilisk even used it to get here.

I’m not a holy man, but I’ll make whatever deal with whatever god is interested totortureMisery for an eternity if he actually harms Jane. Even if it’s Tempest’s god himself.Even Cypress’s.

Heat sears my veins, so much so that I want to rip my shirt off and toss it to the cold sands, but I leave it on. It doesn’t help that I’m sweating under these leathers, my vest and armor in a bag that I’m not ready to don yet. Swiping at my face, feeling the stubble that lines it, I can’t calm down. I’m restless, agitated, and so fucking ready to kill someone.

I reach to my hip and feel the skull mask, gripping it to place it on my face. Anya’s energy is so faint, but it hasn’t disappeared. If they’re in Ashfire?—

I feel the energy of the men on the small boats before I see the top of their heads on the water, their bodies like dots until they’re close enough that the waves beach their ships.Their presence means this is only a delay, not a setback. I close my eyes and exhale before making my way toward the boats.

You’re not alone, Jane. I’m coming.

Sails flap high above as our boats make their way to Storm’s Fury.

The helm of it is of a kraken, its tentacles reaching back and along the ship, its hollowed out eyes fearsome underneath furrowed brows. The entirety of the ship is painted with a stormy gray, the sails a fresh, warm color—a sign they’re new and haven’t been bleached by the sun or salt.

Storm anchors are perched out of their holes, ready to be deployed. This one has more than any other ship, including theSea Wolf. There’s even holes for the cannons. So hedoeshave them.

“How you think they manage to have such a large ship travel the Black Sea? The big ones always do terrible in storms,” Bones asks.

“If I had to guess, some magic is involved,” I say, because it’s amonsterof a ship.

The only one of Liam’s crew not rowing leans over, the woman gazing around like she’s in charge. “Fury is one of the fastest ships, next to the Sea Wolf.”

“What are the storms like?” I ask, wondering what we’re in for. I chose Liam for a reason, but if we’re talking safety, it’sTempest’sship that I’d get on without question. We’ll need every ounce of defense and luck to reach Jane.

“She takes a beating, sir, but she’s reinforced. We take in the sails when it gets bad enough. There’s no anchoring in the middle of the Black Sea, mind you. It’s too deep.” She downs something from her flask. “There’s a kraken out there. You drop an anchor, and it’ll find you. It’s one of the few tricks, actually. Lots drop their anchors in those storms, especially when they spot an island and think it’s shallow enough.”

Bones groans. “I’m not meant for krakens.”

She smiles with pride. “Wedon’t worry about them. Liam made a deal with those beasts.”

Bones scoffs. “I’m believing you less and less, lady.”

She points to a section in the ship that’s different colors than the rest—almost as if it was painted on a different day. “That right there is where the kraken first got us. Our captain took care of us ever since, making a deal with it.”

I grit my teeth. I don’t know why—maybe it’s all the emotions as of late—but I uncomfortably find myself thinking of the useless fucker I have to call my sire. Tempest’s ship was different, as she’s a legend in her own right. But this crewreminds me more of traditional pirating, where mysirelived his days. I only learned he had been killed because of his tattoos, the ones seared into my mother’s mind. When I finally tracked down the right crew, they had flayed the skin from his body before throwing it overboard—a sign he was disowned before being murdered. Seeing the design of a ship with sirens upholding it on dried flesh that wassupposedto be related to me…

I still regret to this day that it wasn’t me who killed him.

Liam stands atop the ship like a sentry, moving among the crew in a different manner than the rest. Calmer. As if he’s a part of the very wood that makes Storm’s Fury, the setting sun crowning him.

The longboats are raised on thick ropes, and as they’re being tethered to the ship, we climb up the coarse ladders that will get us over to the deck. Sounds of sails flapping and ropes being pulled taught is a sound I’d like to stay far away from once this is all said and done.

“Welcome aboard,” Liam says, wearing a black bandana over his dark hair, and a black, tattered captain’s jacket; not a single adornment is on his. He’s more gregarious than the rest, being a pirate that justreallyloves treasure. “Come to my quarters.”

“I want a few others to join me.”

He clasps his hands together. “As you request, Soren.”

Rorge heads below deck with the rest, officially operating as the overseer of our collective mercenaries. Bones, Donna, Ritter, Basilisk, and I follow Liam, ascending the elaborate stairs to the floor above us, walking through a threshold to a set of double doors hidden from view. “The hawk you sent gave some information, and based on what I know, I already have an idea as to what you’re looking for.”