Page 42 of Wicked Tides #1

The men hauled me to the mast once more where everything happened too quickly.

My hands were raised above my head and despite my struggling, I was immobilized by too many men.

My palms were stacked, one on top of the other, and before I knew it, Collin had emerged with a long dagger.

He reached up and slammed it forward. The burn of the blade sliding through my hands was nothing compared to the ache I was feeling over my failure.

Hands immobilized, the men began wrapping the rope around my standing body, securing me to the mast like a fucking sacrifice.

“You bitches are hard to contain,” Collin said, yanking another dagger from the belt of one of his men.

The ship rocked, pulling at my body and the blade pinning me to the wood.

“But I have ways. Which is why I’m so good at bringing live specimens back to shore.

” He waved the dagger in front of me teasingly and then swiftly jammed it up between my ribs.

I stifled a scream behind my teeth, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

And then he twisted.

I was completely restrained and unable to thrash against the tight ropes. I just felt the cold steel moving inside me, poking at my innards.

“Took me a while to figure out which places I could cut your kind without you dying. You have quite a lot.”

I looked up into Collin’s dull eyes and watched him as he twisted the blade the other way. I wanted to cry out, but I knew better. I knew what he wanted, what he liked, and I wouldn’t give it to him. I’d been used and tortured by men before. If only he knew what happened to them.

“See, I’ve found that if I don’t use bronze, I can poke you lot full of holes before you start to fade. ”

Finally, Collin pulled the knife free and stepped back as blood began to trickle down my side. It would heal soon, but not before I lost a good amount of it. The point was to weaken me, I was sure.

“See, we were cutting your tongues out long before bringing you to shore,” he continued, wiping the bloody blade on the sleeve of his crewman’s shirt. “But our governor likes his tongues fresh.”

I didn’t think I could hate someone more than Vidar, but Collin was taking up so much space in my head, Vidar had all but been forgotten.

I was going to kill Collin. I was going to tear into him while he watched and that smug look on his salt-burned face would be molded into a perpetual mask of terror and regret.

As I bled, he walked to Sakari’s body and waved a hand over her like he was bored.

“Get her off my deck,” he said.

Two men ambled over to her, picking her up by the feet and arms, and tossed her limp form over the railing and into the sea.

I watched, unblinking as the girl disappeared.

And in her last moments, she’d been broken and tainted.

She died that way. After everything she’d endured, she died afraid and violated.

Another wave undulated beneath the ship, rocking it just enough to tug on my hands and send a shock of pain through me. It was enough to pull me back from my vengeful stupor so I could properly think. Or at least properly process things.

As the crew began to disperse, overtaken by the fatigue they likely went to the island to relieve, I stood tied to the mast trying to slow my heart.

The less blood I lost, the more likely I was to keep up my strength.

I needed to heal. I knew the wound in my ribs would close soon.

Likely by morning. The dagger through my hands would not allow that hole to close, though.

One step at a time.

Night crept up over the ocean, turning the sun’s yellow hues on the surface of the waves into the blue tones of the moon.

Silence fell over the ship. Some men were sleeping.

Others were trudging around doing aimless tasks.

Every time they passed by me, their eyes looked over me like I was a rotten slab of meat.

But they were starving and would eat anything. They’d violate me eventually, whether I was conscious or not. Despite humans claiming we were the demons, they enjoyed indulging like it was their right. Like they enjoyed us.

Slowly, more men began to fall asleep, but not me. My eyes saw everything and as the darkness thickened, my gaze sharpened. I’d stopped bleeding and I saw all I wanted to do play out in my head over and over.

The more I thought about my vengeance, the more the blood loss got to me.

It would pass. I only prayed it would pass in time.

The night was quiet. The sails barely fluttered in the wind.

I could hear the soft hush of the breeze skimming the water and focused, trying to will strength back into my muscles.

But focusing on the sounds of the ocean only brought an unwanted tone with it.

Voices. They whispered in the wind. Dozens of them.

Slowly, the whispering became a deep, bass noise that resonated from the cavernous ocean, making the water ripple around the ship.

Like a pod of whales was circling beneath, the air hummed with the eerie sound. The sound from my dreams.

I peered out toward the sea, my spine stiffening.

I skimmed the water for any sign of something more dangerous than my captors.

Something from the deep. But as I scanned the horizon, something else caught my eye.

There was something under the shadow of a cloud and veiled from the moon.

It was getting closer. When the moon’s light finally touched it, I saw sails.

Another ship. It was coming straight toward us. I looked around to find that no one else had spotted the coming vessel. Vidar’s crew was alert. They were constantly searching the waters for danger. Collin’s men were fatigued and starved stupid. No one was even in the crow’s nest.

I looked up, balling my hands into fists as best I could around the dagger pinning them together .

Pain is your strength. Pain is in your soul. Pain makes you stronger.

I chanted those words in my head as I started to slide my hands up the blade.

The stinging agony coursed through me, but with blood loss and elevated arms combined, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it could have.

When I reached the hilt, I held my breath and curled my fingers over it, hooking them on the small hand guard.

And then I tugged.

My arms fell limply in front of me, what blood I had left rushing to my fingers with painful speed.

I stifled any noise I might make behind my gag, glancing at the blade still pinned through my palms. I needed to get it out, but I was limited.

The rest of my body was still tightly secured to the mast with thick ropes.

Looking up, the other ship was visibly closer. I stared as the moonlight kissed its sails. Even from that distance, the tinge of crimson was unmistakable.

So, Vidar had come for David. Or perhaps Sakari. He certainly would never come for me, but it did not matter. I did not need saving.

I watched the Rose suddenly come about, turning so the length of it was visible to me rather than the front. Suddenly it occurred to me what he was doing.

Just as two men were coming up from below deck, a flash of orange revealed exactly where the Rose was to them. Their heads whipped to the side just when the low pop reached their ears, but by then it was too late.

The canon ball hit the side of the ship just at the water line.

They were a bit out of range, but they were moving fast. The ship quaked at the impact and suddenly the crew was once more awake and discombobulated.

Their alarm bell was being rung, the brass sound of it sharp against my ears.

Men were shouting, but before long, another canon fired.

That time it hit high enough to send splinters of wood flying into the air around me.

Quickly, I started to maneuver my hands, prying the blade out of my palms and biting through the pain. I was regaining feeling, but not much. I had to accept that my vengeance would not be nearly as sweet in my weakened state.

Finally, the knife pulled free. I gripped its blood-slickened hilt and began sawing through the ropes.

As soon I broke the coils, my restraints were gone.

They fell at my feet and I stepped out of them as another canon ball hit the mast above my head.

I ducked out of the way as the giant pillar cracked and bent, rocking the ship violently.

Men were scurrying about, but Collin’s ship was full of harpoons and ropes.

He was a hunter and his ship was built for hunting, not fighting other ships.

The Rose was a killer.