Page 8 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Eight

CASIMIR

I t’s well into the early hours of the morning by the time I manage to fight my way back to the surface of my own mind. My beast has the good sense to stay close to the ship when he takes over, his drive to protect our brother as strong as mine.

Only it’s not just Nos we’re protecting now.

Nilsa.

Her name is like silk in my mind. My beast calms at just the thought of her.

Today we’ll make Val give her some damned furniture. She needs a bed and a cabin that’s not full of junk at the very least. When we get to Port Evert, I’ll start spending some of our treasure on spoiling her like a mate should.

That decision calms my mind enough to let me focus on the other issue.

How could Nos have kept her from me?

He must have known for years that we’d share our mate with the rest of the crew. So why not warn any of us ?

With a practiced move, I launch my body out of the water, shifting mid-leap to land on the deck as a man.

I grab one of the nearest towels from the cupboard by the hatch and dry off as I walk letting my beast guide me to our twin.

He’s asleep, tossing and turning in his bunk. Every now and again, his skin flashes with scales and fur, the creature he religiously suppresses breaking through in his dreams.

My own beast lets out a mournful screech in my mind, wishing for its twin. But my other half is tired now, our night of frustrated swimming has given me the advantage.

Nos has dark circles under his eyes and I bite my lip as I debate waking him. I want answers but he needs the rest more.

I sigh and settle into the chair in his corner, my own eyes falling shut as the ocean lulls me to sleep. In the end, Nos is the one who wakes me. His muted sigh echoes from our adjoining bathroom, springing me into wakefulness as well as any alarm. I’m silent for a long moment, gathering my thoughts before I speak.

“Nos?”

I hear his second, longer sigh before he appears in the doorway, staring in completely the wrong direction. “Yes, Cas?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

His head swivels until we can both pretend he’s looking at me but he still takes a moment before he answers.

“Because I didn’t know when we’d meet her. Only that we would. I could have given you false hope that might have taken centuries to come true.”

“I can think of some bleak times when it would have been nice to have any hope at all. Even false hope.” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice .

“She’s here now,” Nos whispers. “She’s here and you’re already improving."

I stay silent. Nilsa is the only reason I’m not still out there, battling my beast for control. But my beast isn’t the only one who needs her help. Nos might be the more outwardly fine of the two of us, but he’s no more sane than I am.

Goddess, Nilsa deserves better than us.

“Tell me what she looks like.” Nos’s voice is ragged, and he clears his throat before continuing, “My visions are never clear enough to do her justice.”

I smile slightly. “She’s short, fragile-looking, and dainty. She makes Rysen look like a giant by comparison. Her skin is this pale, delicate peaches and cream colour, but her hair is a dark, rich, brown you just want to sink your hands into and pull.”

Fuck, I’m already so far gone that I’m composing poetry about her. I should be more surprised, but I’m not. My beast knows she’s his mate, and he’s closer to the surface than most other shifters. All he wants is to roll in her scent and mark her with ours.

I shake myself and look back at my twin. “Her eyes… her eyes are that stormy blue that only happens when lightning hits the ocean. She wears this stupid, shapeless white robe that covers all of her curves, but when she turns just right, you can make out her figure and it’s all lithe curves and muscle.”

Nos lets out a breath. “Thank you.”

I wave his apology away on instinct before I remember he can’t see it. It’s been decades and I still haven’t adjusted to his blindness; not like I should have. “No problem.”

Nos stiffens, his eyes going hooded, but this vision barely lasts a second. When he pulls himself out of it, he starts grinning .

“To the galley, I don’t want to miss this.”

He moves quickly for a blind man, his steps certain aboard the ship we know so well. I let him lead, always ready behind him just in case he falls even if, logically, I know there’s no need. Nos has the layout of the ship memorised, and with his visions to help him, there’s little to worry about.

When we first came aboard, almost twenty years ago, Valorean went to great pains to keep the Deadwood steady while Nos was moving around. There are still handrails along every corridor, with the name of each room and deck engraved on the wall every few meters in case he gets lost in a vision and comes back confused.

Nos doesn’t need them now, but the Captain takes care of his crew. Always.

My twin ducks as he enters the galley, and I have enough experience to follow his lead. That’s the only thing which saves me from a flying skillet to the face as Nilsa narrowly misses Valorean’s head.

“If you don’t like my cooking, I won’t bother to feed you anymore,” she hisses, tossing a guilty look at Nos and I before continuing to level her best glare at Val. “It’s perfectly cooked and doesn’t taste like the ocean spat in it, is that what you’re complaining about?”

“I just asked where you got the fresh fruit from!”

Rysen is looking between the two with a strange mixture of concern and humour on his face. Somehow he’s ended up holding that grey tabby again, and seeing the burly vampire cradling a tiny cat and stroking it with a single finger is one of the most snort-worthy things I’ve ever seen.

Rysen is many things, but cuddly isn’t one of them.

Apparently the cat doesn’t agree.

“You said, and I quote, ‘why the fuck are there berries on my oats?’”

Nilsa looks like she’s searching for more projectiles, so I hastily drag Nos out of the danger zone that is the area behind Val. We end up beside Kier, who’s ignoring the drama in favour of eating the food everyone else has forgotten. I grab my own bowl and groan at the first bite before remembering to hand Nos his spoon and direct his left hand to the bowl.

He sighs happily and digs in.

Three mouthfuls later, he pauses and looks at Nilsa. “I knew this was coming, but it’s even better than it was in my vision.”

Nilsa blushes prettily, lowering the pot she’s grabbed from the stove. “You think so?”

Valorean begins to creep back towards the table, and I choose to distract our mate so that the captain can grab food and evacuate.

“It’s the best thing I’ve eaten in months,” I confess, taking an elbow to the ribs from Kier for my trouble. “But where did you find berries? Has Kier been holding out on us?”

She grins. “No, I used magic to transform the existing food. I am never eating that stuff again.”

I stare down at the honey-drizzled fruit and back at the witch. “So I’m eating salted pork?”

She rolls her eyes, catches sight of Valorean sitting at the table, and shoots him a death glare before replying.

“No. Unlike a mage, I can’t make something out of nothing. I can only transform existing materials or summon them to me if I know exactly where they are. The fruit is as real as if you picked it from a tree, it just started out as biscuits and preserves.”

I’m still dubious, but I keep eating because I have no desire to have a pan thrown at me and it still tastes amazing. Evidently that makes me wiser than Val, who prods at his fruit as if expecting it to transform back.

Which it then does, because Nilsa’s watching him with a scowl and mutters a quick spell. Leaving the captain with a bowl full of jam and soggy biscuits.

Our mate takes a spot between Nos and Rysen, dips a spoon into her own bowl, and starts to eat. The rest of the table follows her example now that she’s apparently been mollified, and a few seconds later Val’s bowl reverts to honey-drizzled porridge.

Only Rysen doesn’t eat, and I know Nilsa notices.

I manage to score a few more brownie points by offering to wash the dishes, before she turns to the vampire.

“Do you need to feed?” Her point-blank question makes us all freeze, and Rysen’s eyes flash red for the briefest second.

“Do you know what you’re offering?” he asks in return.

“Blood.” She pulls up her sleeve just the barest fraction. “I don’t know how much you need, or how often, but if you’re hungry, get on with it.”

I can tell Rysen is trying to figure out a diplomatic way to request privacy, but Valorean obviously has a death wish because he gets there first.

“You’ve never fed a vampire before, have you?”

Nilsa glares at him. “Does it matter?”

“Well, if you had you’d realise that you might as well be offering to suck him off in front of all of us.”

Typical Val.

Nilsa’s cheeks turn the most adorable pink and her eyes darken with lust for just the briefest moment before narrowing at him.

Rysen manages to grab her hand before she can reach for another pan. His thumb strokes gentle circles over the pale, exposed skin of her wrist before he speaks.

“I’d be honoured to feed from you,” he murmurs. “However, Valorean is right, we’d be more comfortable with privacy. ”

Nilsa swallows, her eyes on the grip he has around her wrist.

He won’t feed from there. Rysen always feeds from the neck, where the flow of blood is strongest and freshest. It’s also the place where immortals are the most vulnerable.

Our mate is a witch, barely stronger than a human.

My beast swirls under my skin. Panic taking over him at the thought of Rysen accidentally ripping that delicate skin. Logically I know our friend would never hurt her, but my other half doesn’t see it that way. He reacts instinctively, shoving to the front of my mind without warning.

“Hole!” I cry, shoving out of my chair and racing for the wall of the ship.

Val sighs and the boards separating us from the ocean outside spring apart. I have just enough time to launch myself through the gap and as far from the ship as possible before my beast takes over and my mind is gone.