Page 9 of Virelai’s Hoard (The Dagger & Tide Trilogy #1)

Riley

Riley was so busy trying to settle into ship life that she’d failed to notice that Patch was getting mightily bored. Once she did, it was too late.

She was sitting with Maren, eating breakfast, when she spotted the trouble-making rodent dashing between feet and chairs and tables and coming straight at her. A small object glinted in his mouth. Something precious, judging by the angry stomping and shouting at his heels.

This was bad.

Without a second thought, Riley opened her bag for Patch to jump in and hide, safe and chuffed about his prized catch.

A silver spoon , apparently. Under any other circumstances, Riley might’ve praised him for the thoughtful upgrade–she’d been given, like everyone else, a wooden spoon to eat with, polished smooth by countless other mouths that had used it before her–but unlike any other con they’d pulled off before, she was living amongst these people.

Which meant the entire crew knew Patch by now. And his owner.

Two arms slammed against her table, knocking one of the bowls on the floor and giving Maren his cue to slip away. “You have something of mine.”

Slowly, Riley looked up, and all the blood drained from her face when she saw the pirate.

It was Sable. The first mate. She recognized her by the gnarly scar on her cheek, now twisted in the woman’s barely suppressed snarl.

Riley’s mind went blank, but for one instruction, looping over and over in her head.

Rule number one: don’t ever, ever tell the truth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, crumpling her face in confusion.

“You don’t-” Sable sputtered, blinking incredulously at her.

In a split moment, Sable’s hand shot forward and grabbed her collar, jerking Riley forward until she felt the edge of the table digging into her stomach. Hot breath puffed against her face as the first mate said, low and menacing, “Give me that, and maybe I won’t have you thrown to the sharks.”

Distantly, Riley was aware of the other pirates, their meals forgotten on their tables as they turned to gawp at the scene, but her awareness narrowed to focus solely on the danger in front of her.

Sable glared down at her, her grip keeping Riley stuck awkwardly between the wooden bench and the bolted table.

The corded muscles in the pirate’s arms and shoulders bulged with the visible strain it took to keep herself in check.

The lanterns on the walls bathed her brown skin in a warm hue, but it was an illusion.

Everything about the first mate was hot-blooded fire, and Riley was about to get singed.

A red and white bandana held back Sable’s dark hair–styled in dreads that fell over her shoulders–giving Riley a front-seat view of her furious black eyes.

It was enough to choke the air out of her lungs.

She had to get away.

Riley jerked back, to no avail. Sable’s grip was iron, and she wasn’t budging any more than the table was. Her fist twisted harder in Riley’s collar, pulling until their faces were a breath apart from each other.

“I’m gonna give you until the count of five to hand it over,” Sable said. “You don’t want to know what happens at five.” Her lips twitched, and Riley could only stare.

“One.”

Her breath brushed against Riley’s lips, and a shiver went through her. It was close, and warm, and humid.

“Two.”

It curled in the air between them, kissed with smoke and a hint of molasses. Without meaning to, Riley breathed the scent in.

“Three.”

She glanced at Sable’s lips as they moved, wondering at their taste. Riley licked her own lips, and she swallowed.

“Four-”

Sable’s breath hitched, eyes tracking the movement of her throat.

They lingered at her lips. Riley felt them tingle at the intensity of her gaze.

Those deep, black eyes didn’t look angry anymore.

They looked hungry. The warmth of Sable’s body radiated in the space between them, and Riley became aware of the way her heart pounded in her chest. Where before her skin was numb and cold, now it came alive with electricity everywhere Sable’s breath ghosted against it, everywhere her eyes lingered, everywhere she could feel the heat of her closeness.

In the next beat, Sable flinched back, and Riley realized the first mate had felt it too.

Her fist was still tangled in her collar, but the grip had given way.

If she wanted to, Riley could move. She could lean in.

She could find out if Sable tasted like hot-blooded fire, or something sweeter, or something else entirely.

Riley was so taken with that thought that she failed to notice the small tugs at her shirt as Patch climbed up on her shoulder, and suddenly the grip was gone. Cool air caressed her skin, and it felt like a loss. A yelp cut through the haze of her thoughts. Riley blinked.

Sable had stumbled back. She was gripping at her own hand.

It was bleeding. Riley went cold all over again as she stared at the hint of red in horror.

Shit. Fuck. Patch waited expectantly, and when she didn’t move, he looked at her in confusion and squeaked once.

He wanted them to make a run for it. He didn’t get there was nowhere to run to.

They were both done for.

“I’m gonna eat that rat in a stew tonight,” Sable seethed as she settled her gaze on the both of them.

Whatever that moment had been before, it was gone, burned by Patch’s misguided attempt at saving her. And this was really bad.

Riley nearly fell over as she stumbled away from the bench until her butt pressed against yet another table at her back.

Her eyes darted around the room, heart hammering in her chest. Everywhere she could see, there were faces.

Staring. Laughing. Sneering. Cold. No escape routes.

No gaps through the crowd that had gathered.

Sable took a breath to shake off the sting in her hand, and the slow, measured steps she used to walk around the table separating her from Riley made her all the scarier. She was a predator who knew she had her prey cornered.

Riley pressed back harder into the table. “Look, I-”

“What’s going on here?”

A path in the crowd opened up. Captain Calla stepped through. A small frown etched itself on her forehead as she took in the scene.

Sable stopped herself a few inches from Riley, hands balled into fists at her sides. The heat radiating off her was pure anger now. “This thief sent her rat to steal from me. And then it bit me.”

Calla’s eyes darted to Riley, and the coldness in them sent a shiver down her spine.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I didn’t-”

“Bullshit! Show me your bag.”

Riley clutched the bag to her chest. If they found the spoon, they would throw her overboard. And she couldn’t swim. She would die. This would be it.

“I said-”

“Sable,” the captain said, quiet but slicing. “Back away.”

“But-”

Calla cut her off with the same cold look she’d given Riley. Sable had no choice but to snarl and take a few steps back. Then she crossed her arms, waiting.

The space between them wasn’t nearly big enough, but now Riley could breathe again.

The captain walked around Sable and leaned against the table opposite Riley, nodding at her bag. “Empty it.” The command was spoken calmly, and it left no room for overthinking.

With deflating shoulders, Riley lessened her grip on the bag. Her fingers hurt as she forced herself to distend them. There was no other choice but to do as told.

Riley emptied her bag at the captain’s feet.

The silver spoon clinked against the wood, along with her few other possessions.

Calla shifted the trinkets aside and gingerly picked up the cause of all this trouble, inspecting it with a thoughtful crease to her brows.

Then she handed it over to her first mate, who snatched it from her hand and plunged it inside her pocket.

After, Sable crossed her arms again. “I want the rat thrown overboard,” she said, completely serious.

The pirates around shifted uneasily, and a few quiet murmurs broke the earlier tomb silence. Some of them seemed approving.

Riley bristled. “It’s not his fault.”

The first mate’s eyes snapped to hers. “Then I want her thrown overboard. Make an example out of either of them. I don’t care which one.”

Riley had a few choice words to say to that, but she clamped her mouth shut and knelt down to shove everything back into her bag. Her heart was pumping so loudly she could barely hear anything else. Maybe when they threw her overboard, she could somehow cling to the ship and climb back up and-

“You say it wasn’t his fault. Explain.”

Riley’s head snapped up. Her thoughts quietened for just a moment, and a strange heat bathed over her. The captain really wanted to hear her version of the story?

As she stood, Riley thought about the best way she could appeal to Calla’s sympathy and get both her and Patch out of this mess. Although…

Maybe it was Calla’s intense, knowing gaze, or maybe it was instinct, but something told her straying too far from the truth would only put her in more trouble. That didn’t mean she couldn’t leave a few choice details out, though.

“I was so busy learning the job, and tired , that I haven’t been paying him much mind these days.

” She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she avoided everyone’s gaze.

She’d never done this with such a big audience before, but it wasn’t the crowd she needed to appease.

It was Calla. And her first mate. “He was just bored and trying to get my attention.” Then she forced herself to push out two more words as she looked at Sable.

“I’m sorry.” Soft and quiet and as genuine as she could make them.

The first mate didn’t seem to expect that. Her eyes widened briefly, and she adjusted the folded arms at her chest. Her jaw remained locked tight, but something loosened in her shoulders.

Captain Calla studied her for a moment, eyes narrowed as if she was missing something, but couldn’t put her finger on it. Riley tried not to fidget under the gaze. Eventually, the captain said, “I don’t think this little incident is reason enough to throw someone overboard, Sable.”

Riley tensed. She could feel a ‘ but’ coming, and images of alternative punishments flashed through her mind. Some were worse than drowning. Her palms went clammy, and she rubbed her ungloved hand against her pants, shifting on her feet.

“However.” There it was. Riley sucked in a breath. “You are right that there need to be consequences. We can’t have the sailors robbing each other because they’re bored .” A pointed look in Riley’s direction made her stomach churn, though most of the crew let out soft laughter.

Riley tallied up the possibilities in her head. Cut rations. Double shifts. Lashing. Maiming.

“The rat will go to prison.”

What?

“Prison?” Riley asked dumbly.

“Accounting for the extenuating circumstances and his shorter life-span, a fortnight should do.”

“A fortnight?” Riley repeated, her voice weak.

She believed they’d punish her, not Patch .

Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought of him, all alone and forgotten and under-stimulated for an entire fortnight .

“He’s gonna think I abandoned him,” she said, pleading, though she didn’t know what for.

Calla seemed to think about it. “You can get visitation rights during lunchtime, and he’ll be allowed to roam my cabin freely at night.”

Riley blinked. Visitation? Calla’s cabin?

“Is that good with everyone?”

Sable grunted and shoved her way past the gathered crew. Riley, still reeling, nodded meekly.

“Then the matter is settled,” Calla said, pushing herself off the table. “You’ll drop the rat off in the morning. Pip can show you where my quarters are.”