Page 46 of Virelai’s Hoard (The Dagger & Tide Trilogy #1)

Sable

Above deck, the battle was in full swing.

Without checking to see whether Riley and Eryx had followed her, Sable rushed to the railings, where Nyxen and Ignatius were trying to hold off the incoming horde of pirates.

Three of them had Nyxen cornered, keeping him distracted as others spilled over the railings and onto the Moonshadow’s deck.

Sable cut the biggest Stinger clean across the back, warm blood spilling on her knuckles as the bastard howled in pain and turned on her. She flashed him her teeth in a snarl.

“You’ve made a mistake coming here,” she growled as she thrust her machete into his gut.

The Stinger stared wide-eyed at her. His needle blades clanged on deck as he gripped her arms like a lifeline.

With a vicious flick of her wrist, she twisted her blade inside of him.

The squelch of ruined organs sent her blood roaring.

As he sank to his knees, Sable met Nyxen’s gaze over the invader’s head.

She gave him a sharp nod, then turned to the rest of her crew.

“Kittredge!” she shouted across the deck.

“Sound the bloody alarm! All hands on fucking deck!” Twirling on her feet, she swung her machete at a pirate’s hand, relieving her of her gun.

“I don’t fucking think so.” The next thrust caught the Stinger in the throat, blood gurgling as she fell on the floor like a rag doll.

“Cut the grappling lines!” she shouted over the din of the bell and the firing shots.

One pirate fumbled with a hatchet but missed the rope entirely, nearly cutting into another’s arm instead.

Sable gritted her teeth. More and more pirates spilled over the railing, pushing the crew of the Moonshadow back inch by inch.

Her own crew started spilling from below decks, joining the fight with savage cries, but even without stopping to count the numbers, Sable knew they were outnumbered.

“Hold them off our ship! And lock the damn hatches before they get to the lower decks!”

A few crew members glanced her way but kept retreating.

It wasn’t defiance–it was doubt. They wouldn’t have hesitated with Calla.

Her eyes fell on the hatch to the lower deck, left open like a fucking invite after the last of the Moonshadow’s crew climbed on deck.

She rushed to it and closed it with a kick of her foot.

Just a few steps beyond, Venn laid on the floor, curled in on himself as a bull of a woman mercilessly kicked at him.

Sable was just about to rush to his aid when she saw Riley, crouched behind the Stinger, blade in hand.

She slashed at her Achilles tendon. The woman sank to one knee with a cry, and Riley slipped away–unseen but by Sable.

A strange heat spread inside Sable’s chest. She’d expected Riley to make a run for it, find a place to hide, but she was here–striking from the shadows.

Her ill-timed fascination was cut short as her shoulder kicked back with the force of a shove.

Warmth spilled from it, soaking her shirt, and Sable realized she’d been shot.

Sable ignored the spreading burning pain, kicking a nearby pirate in the back of her knees.

With a quick grip on the woman’s hair, she craned her neck back and slashed her throat.

The blood spurting on the deck made another Stinger slip on his ass.

Before Sable could step in to finish the job, his head exploded with the kick of a bullet.

Sable met Ignatius’ gaze from a few feet beyond, and they threw each other vicious grins, the earlier animosity between them forgotten.

The air was thick with gunpowder and sweat. Numbness tingled down her left arm, and Sable gripped her machete tighter with her right.

The Moonshadow’s crew was holding its own, but the intruders were many, and relentless. Ignatius’ firing shots could only do so much against sheer numbers. The Stingers spilled over like the tide.

Sable’s grin faded into slack-jawed staring when her eyes fell on the last pirate to board their ship.

Someone she thought she’d never see again.

Thorian jumped on the deck of the Moonshadow. His saber glinted in the lantern light, as did his savage grin.

They were going to lose.

The realization settled like a boulder in Sable’s stomach, and she watched wide-eyed as the giant man made his way to the mid-deck, shoving past fighting pirates as if they were nothing but background noise.

The nearby crew stared in shock as their former quartermaster, now a bloody traitor, reached Sable.

Sable’s machete drooped to her side. Her gaze dragged up to Thorian’s delighted grin, dark and ugly on his face, and the exact opposite of the clear dread she was sure was painted on her own. It took all of her effort to just snap her jaws shut.

“You’re a fucking turncloak now?” she rasped.

Thorian’s grin widened. It was a wonder his lips didn’t crack from it. His saber lifted, and Sable dragged her machete up to parry. Thorian thrust his hand forward, and Sable gritted her teeth, braced herself. But the strike never came. Just air rushing past her cheek.

From behind her, someone choked on blood. Sable craned her neck to see a pirate crumble on the deck. He wasn’t one of their own.

“You didn’t really think I’d side with them over you lot, did you?” Thorian winked at her, and as five pirates swarmed them, they turned back to back to fight them off.

Her shoulder oozed with blood with every thrust of her blade, the pulsing pain spreading, but she laughed as they fought them off together. It was relieved and a little mad. “What if we threw Calla overboard?” Sable asked.

Thorian barked a laugh. “Then I’ll send you after her. Hope you can breathe underwater, ‘cause you’re not coming back without the captain.”

The clang and booms of swords and gunshots echoed around them, and Sable’s back pressed against Thorian’s as the pirate opposite her sent a flurry of attacks her way, her reflexes just barely keeping up with the Stinger’s flashes of steel.

All around, the Moonshadow’s crew gave way, inch by inch, exhaustion and grim acceptance settling on their faces as they realized what Sable herself had earlier.

They were going to lose, even with the quartermaster back at their side.

“Tell them something,” Thorian’s deep voice rumbled at her back. “You need to spur them on!”

Her grip slipped on her machete, slick with sweat and blood. She adjusted too slowly–nearly took a blade to the ribs for it. Her shoulder burned, but she forced herself to keep swinging.

They needed to fall back, go under deck, and come up with some sort of plan.

But she knew, just like she knew they were losing this battle, that the crew wouldn’t listen to her commands.

They didn’t trust her judgment. If only half the crew fell back, they would all die. That wasn’t something she could risk.

But she had to do something .

“Hold the line!” she snarled at them, her voice cutting through the cacophony of grunts and clashes. “You’ve fought worse than these fuckers. Show them what we’re fucking made of! Push back like your lives depend on it!”

Someone cheered, half-hearted. Someone else retorted, “Our lives do depend on it! Think they’re just gonna treat us to tea and biscuits after they beat us?!”

Thorian snorted at her back. “I see the mantel’s fitting you well, captain.”

“I’m not the fucking captain,” she snapped as she swung her blade, severing a hand from its owner.

“No. No, you’re not.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Sweat beaded on her forehead, dripping down her face, her muscles pulled tight and aching with exhaustion. They cut down two enemies and three more sprung out in their stead. Sable didn’t look at the corpses littering the Moonshadow’s deck anymore, terrified of who she’d recognize.

When her eyes locked on the black eye of a gun, she froze.

This was it. She would join those corpses in the span of a breath, already halfway down her throat.

Sable could do nothing but stare. At the black eye, at the finger–pressing on the trigger.

But suddenly the arm fell. The bullet meant for her hit the wood planks.

Gadrielle would throttle her for that. Her gaze slowly dragged up.

To Riley. She clung to the back of Sable’s would-be killer like a monkey, her dagger buried in his neck to the hilt.

He fell, clutching at his bleeding neck, and Riley landed on her feet in front of her. She threw Sable a wink.

Sable’s mouth was dry, her ears rung, she still couldn’t move.

When Riley was just about to slip away, Sable forced herself out of her stupor, caught her arm.

“Go to the powder store,” she told her, or hoped she did.

She still couldn’t hear herself over the ringing. “We’ll blow them off the fucking ship.”

Riley’s eyes widened, but she gave her a slow nod. A moment later, she was gone.

Sable’s eyes darted around the battlefield, and she noticed two pirates making a run for it, heading for the longboats.

Fury made her blood boil, and she ignored the fighting around her as she intercepted the stragglers.

She caught the slowest one by his shirt, spun him around to face her.

He cowered under her glare, and the other made themselves lost before she could see their face.

Sable shouted loud enough for everyone to hear, making the pirate flinch.

“If I catch any of you running now, you’ll die with your backs turned.

” She pushed the man back toward the deck.

“I won’t tolerate cowards on my ship, and that’s the only warning you’ll get before I skewer you on my sword.

Get back to it!” she shouted in his face.

This time, no one dared question her.

“About fucking time you showed some teeth, pup.” Ignatius grinned from the helm as he reloaded his gun.

“I’ll skewer you, too, if you call me pup again!” Sable shouted over the noise.

The gunner laughed, then fired three shots in quick succession, two dull thuds answering his calls. He turned to Sable to say something, his mouth parting. A surprised gasp made it out.

Ignatius looked down, bewildered. At the throwing ax sunk into his chest. Then up at Sable. Blood sputtered past his lips, and he fell to his knees. Sable could only watch as a Stinger kicked Ignatius on his back, reclaimed his ax with a wet squelch, and swung it down on Ignatius’ head.

She couldn’t breathe. For one horrible moment, the world went silent. The blood. The ax. The way Ignatius had looked at her–like he still had something to say.

Then fiery hot rage swallowed everything.

With a feral snarl, Sable charged head first at the Stinger.

Air whooshed out of his lungs as she tackled him to the ground.

Her fists sank into his face before he had any time to recover, blood spurting from his nose with every hit.

She ignored the burn in her shoulder, the numbness in her left arm.

She hit him until her knuckles were numb and bloody, and some more after that.

Around her, the crew was panicking.

Sable kept punching the pirate’s face until there was nothing left but bloody pulp.