Page 5 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Five

RYSEN

C as turning up on the deck stark naked isn’t unusual. Him asking to borrow a rowboat to bring aboard a guest… well, that’s never happened. The ticking in Valorean’s jaw only gets worse as the mad shifter explains that Nos is the one who wants the boat.

I can almost hear him regretting taking the twins in two decades ago.

Val asking me to be on deck to greet the newcomer confirms he plans on scaring our ‘guest’ straight back to shore.

Unfortunately, being a vampire tends to scare away a lot of potential company. Being a vampire and as huge as I am is akin to social suicide. Val knows it, and I’m pretty sure that’s why he keeps me around.

Yeah, he’s not a people person. It’s probably a side effect of being stuck on a ship for centuries. I just hope this mystery guest isn’t another mage, because that will really set him off.

Val’s temper is legendary.

And he has hours to work himself up, because the twins take until nightfall to reappear.

Cas hauls himself over the side first, looking down quickly before he whispers, “She’s our mate,” just loud enough for the three of us to hear.

The vein in Val’s temple begins to throb, and it’s almost funnier than the idea of the dysfunctional twins having a mate.

Noster climbs up next and Cas pulls him out of the way. As one, all five of us stare at the ladder, waiting for this mysterious female to make her entrance.

When her first delicate hand appears over the side, bringing with it the faint scent of berries, herbs, and sweetness, something I can’t explain takes hold of me.

I’m shoving Cas out of the way before I can really process my own actions.

My gut clenches as I hold out my hand to help her up.

Feeling her tiny hand in my oversized one does something to me.

My body shakes as an electric current passes through me. I almost stumble as a beat I’ve long forgotten rumbles to life in my chest.

My heart has been silent for centuries.

I stare at the woman climbing onto the deck.

The one Fate’s chosen for me.

She’s my total opposite. Tiny and slender where I’m tall and bulky. Her skin is a peach brushed porcelain that seems cold compared with the warm chestnut brown of mine. Silky tendrils of hair frame her face before falling to her waist in soft, dark waves while my dreads are a similar length but braided back out of my eyes.

Her head barely reaches my chest .

A flash of fear creeps in as I think of how breakable she looks.

Her face doesn’t help that impression; she has all the delicate features of a fae or a witch. The white robes she’s wearing and the grey tabby wrapped around her shoulders make me certain that she’s the latter.

Then her luminous blue eyes meet mine and the scent of her wraps around me fully.

I’m gone.

I have no idea how I lived until I was with her. The perfect thud, thud of her heartbeat draws me in until Cas's discrete cough snaps me out of it.

“Welcome,” I rumble, trying my utmost to conceal the way my fangs have descended at the first sniff like a newborn vamp.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, her eyes search past me, toward the two men she’s yet to meet. Her posture is loose, like a trained fighter, and her eyes narrow in a way I’m all too familiar with. She’s assessing whether we’re a threat to her. From the cautious look in her eyes, she’s decided we are.

I expected Valorean’s growled, “Get her off my ship.”

I was not ready for my own instant hiss of denial.

The twins go straight for the offensive, their beasts giving a low, feral rumble that makes my eyebrows lift. Cas growling isn’t surprising but for Nos to make the animal sound as well? That’s rare.

“She stays,” Kier’s whisper shocks me more than all our other reactions combined.

Everyone turns to look at him.

His jet-black hair and matching clothes let him blend into the shadow of the mainmast, but his dark, angular eyes shine as he looks at my mate. He doesn’t speak often, hasn’t uttered a word for at least the last half-decade, so the fact that he’s chosen to do so now has me confused .

Until my eyes catch on the shimmering layer of frost coating the deck around his feet.

The number one sign that a fae has found their mate? They start to lose control of their power.

Fuck. She’s our mate.

I’m sharing a mate with the twins and the fae… maybe even the grouchy mage too, if the erection straining against his trousers is anything to go by.

I keep my grip on her hand, careful to use only a fraction of my normal strength as I pull her over to Valorean.

Mercifully, my fangs start to recede, letting me speak normally.

“Make her an offer,” I insist.

He quirks a pale brow at me from under his signature mop of white hair. “You as well?”

I nod. “You made the rules, now follow them. She can choose to pay your toll or leave. So make her an offer.”

His grin makes me certain I’ve said the wrong damn thing. His dark eyes gleam as he examines our mate, but she doesn’t cower before the group of us. No. She stands strong, her eyes daring us to make a wrong move.

“Miss…?” Val begins.

“Nilsa,” the witch supplies, her eyes flashing to Kier and back.

Clever little mate, keeping her full name from a fae.

“Miss Nilsa, do you seek safe passage aboard my ship?”

She takes a deep breath, looks around as if hoping a different option will fall at her feet, then nods. “Yes, that was the idea.”

“Then as long as you remain on my ship, you’ll be under the protection of my crew. In return, you’ll prepare meals for all of us, including the vampire.”

I glare at the captain, because there is no way any Solar witch—even one with fire in her eyes—will agree to being fed from by a vampire. Her skin pales even further, and the cold certainty that she’s about to refuse grips my newly awakened heart and squeezes.

I can’t help a tiny prayer to the Moon Goddess that she’ll at least consider it. Consider us.

The need to know if she tastes as good as she smells is overpowering. But I’d be gentle if she ever let me take her vein. It doesn't matter that every vampire instinct roars at me to kneel, shove her skirt out of the way and sink my fangs into the vein at the top of her leg. For her, I'd go slow.

She's so small, I'm almost scared to imagine touching her like that.

Nilsa is still thinking. When she replies, she doesn’t just accept Val's terms.

No, our clever little witch starts to bargain.

“I want my own room,” she says. “And privacy.”

“Done,” Val smirks, the expression making his aristocratic features seem even crueller than usual. “But I should warn you, if Rysen wants a midnight snack, the cat is fair game.”

I roll my eyes at him.

He knows I don’t like draining animals; their fur always gets stuck to my tongue, and when it gets between my teeth, it’s a nightmare to get out. That’s not mentioning the fact that animal blood will taste like dirt compared to my mate’s.

Just the scent of her makes my fangs ache.

Miraculously, I don’t feel out of control. My own feral need to protect my mate forces back the bloodlust that’s my constant companion until it’s no more than a faint buzz in the back of my mind.

Nilsa seems to weigh her options, eyes raking up and down my body as I try to make myself less intimidating. It’s an impossible task, but she doesn’t seem afraid. No. In fact, her gaze lingers on the steel hoops in my nipples in a very appreciative way .

My fangs drop again, the vampire version of preening for my mate.

I hide the reaction with a silent curse.

I’m probably mistaking curiosity for interest. Solar witches are notoriously celibate—even I know that.

How the hell are we going to convince this one to spend the rest of her immortal life with five randy males?

I’ve already conceded she’s going to run a mile, and my shoulders slump in defeat before she can speak again.

“As long as he puts a shirt on…” She waves a hand in my general direction.

I frown, trying to figure out where I can find a shirt that will fit me on such short notice.

Cas howls with laughter behind her. “He doesn’t own any shirts.”

I glower at him. While that may be true, if my chest makes my little mate uncomfortable, I’ll damn well find one. Even if I have to squeeze into one of his.

But Nilsa’s mouth has turned up at the corners. It’s the closest I’ve seen to a smile since she stepped aboard, and I want to see her face light with that kind of happiness again.

“Alright, no shirts.” She looks down at the cat for a long moment, frowns, then sighs. “We have a deal.”

Val looks back at Kier, who nods. A bargain made in front of a fae is as good as unbreakable. The nod is just reassurance that Nilsa hasn’t lied since she stepped foot on the ship.

If he wasn’t on our side, his ability to sniff out every untruth would really annoy me.

Her stomach growls, and I almost growl back in answer.

Who the fuck let her go hungry?

I glare at the twins.

Casimir is already on his feet, leading her down to the mess with sweet words. The instant she’s gone, Nos speaks up .

“We have to leave. If we wait too long they’ll close the bay.”

Val glowers at him. “How much fucking trouble have you two brought aboard my ship!”

The Seer doesn’t flinch. “Solar witch, mate to all five of us, wanted for the murders of two high priestesses in one day.”

That shuts Val up. “All five of us?” His head swivels to face Kier, who glares back silently.

“Is she guilty?” I ask, drawing everyone’s eyes back to me.

It doesn’t matter to me—Goddess knows, I’ve got too much of my own murderous baggage to ever judge someone else’s—but I want to know what kind of woman my mate is.

All I’ve heard about Solar witches is that they’re quiet, gentle souls who prefer study and healing to battle and fucking. But there’s a fire in Nilsa’s eyes that disproves that. She stands with the ease of a trained warrior, and her proud posture isn’t the kind that comes from hours bent over books.

The stubbornness with which she bargained over Val’s deal isn’t something I’d have expected from a Solar either.

But what do I know about witches?

Nos shrugs. “I haven’t got a clue. I only found out that last bit while waiting for her to turn up. The only thing I can see for certain is that if we tell her who she is to us, she’ll run. I didn’t even know she was coming so soon until this morning…”

His words drift off, eyelids drooping until they’re half-closed. He gets like this when the visions drag him under, and we watch silently as his mouth starts to move but no words come out.

Kier sighs and pulls the Seer over to sit on the steps up to the quarterdeck to wait out his vision. I watch for a second, hoping it will be one of the times when he just comes back as quickly as he’s gone .

Nos doesn’t wake up, but his vision doesn’t get any worse either, which is a small mercy.

Val waits as well, all of us keeping our eyes on him.

“Where to?” I finally ask the captain.

He shrugs, placing a hand on the mast.

His bond to the ship is so strong he can command it without touch, but Val loves his ship more than he loves anything else in the world. In some ways, I can see why.

Watching the way the ship responds to his magic is poetry in motion. The sails drop to half-mast as if let out by invisible hands. The anchor raises itself back from the depths and the ship glides across the waves towards the mouth of the bay.

"We still have our obligations to Galmere," he spits out the word.

Obligations is a pretty word for blackmail.

Somewhere below deck Cas howls with laughter, breaking the solemn silence between us.

“She’s already good for him,” I comment.

Casimir rarely makes it longer than half an hour without his beast taking over. I’m pretty sure that if Nos didn’t need him so much, the shifter would have lost himself to his other side a long time ago.

“She’s a shipwreck waiting to happen.” Val moves away from the mast and stomps up the steps to the quarterdeck.

His steps soften as he passes Noster, eyes raking over him for any sign he might slip into a fit before moving past.

“Kier, go and find out how much of a danger she really is,” Val orders.

Kier disappears into the shadows, and I envy his fae glamour for the hundredth time.

I automatically take over watching Nos, keeping him in my peripheral vision as I listen to Val check his instruments.

The captain sighs, stroking the balustrade thoughtfully. “ As soon as we reach Vertling, we’re dropping her off and leaving her behind.”

I shake my head in instant denial. “If you really believed that you would have added a destination to her offer. You’re just as intrigued as the rest of us to see how this goes.” I pause, looking over at the shrinking lights of Coveton in the distance. “If she accepts you as hers, you’ll be able to go ashore again.”

Val’s eyes flash dangerously as he shoves a stray lock of white hair out of his face. “I don’t want her acceptance. I don’t want to go ashore. I don’t want some strange witch fucking up my bond magic. My ship is all I fucking need.” The ropes nearby thrash on the deck in answer to his anger. “Enjoy the free meals while they last and, for fuck’s sake, keep her out of the hold.”

He sinks into the deck just as the main sail opens out fully, pulling us full speed into the open ocean. Val’s bond magic makes every aspect of the ship his to command, influenced by his thoughts and emotions, even in sleep. Usually he’s level-headed, but he’s set in his ways and change messes with his head.

So it’s not really that surprising that the ropes in one corner haven’t stopped coiling and uncoiling themselves since Nilsa arrived.

Nos’s eyes twitch, then blink. It takes him a while to come out of a vision, but I know the second he does because he cocks his head, listening for Nilsa.

“All of us, huh?” I chuckle, “How long before Val breaks?”

Noster snorts. “I don’t need visions to know it’ll be a long time.”

“He’s taking us southwest,” I note. “Ilya Bay?”

It doesn't surprise me when Nos nods. Val may be required to ferry the Eagle's cargo, but he doesn't do it willingly. Most of the time he's purposefully late, just to annoy her.

“We’ll need to stop at Port Evert before we get there. Nilsa hasn’t got anything with her.”

Now that he says it, I don’t recall seeing her carry a bag or anything. It’s literally just her and her cat.

“What the hell is she going to wear?”

A tiny mew steals our attention. Nilsa’s little tabby has escaped her mistress and is winding around our legs. I lean down, pick up the mercurial feline and stroke her silky grey fur on autopilot.

I’m rewarded with an instant purr.

“I’ve been waiting for her for so long,” Nos whispers.

I smirk. “Only a few hundred years less than the rest of us, youngling.”

It’s only banter. Cas and Nos may only be just into their eighties—mere babies in immortal terms—but they’ve seen things a lot of others haven't, and that ages a person differently.

I wonder absently how old the witch is. Over twenty-five, obviously, or the mating bonds wouldn’t have started forming, but she lacks the jadedness and aloofness that’s common in so many older immortals.

Nos just smiles.

The cat’s purrs turn into grumpy mews, and I regard her for a second. The feline is twisting in my arms strangely. I’ve never had a pet before, so I’m at a bit of a loss.

“Hungry?” I ask her.

I could swear the feline nods at me.