Tyler grinned wider, stretching his arms behind his head and striding off in the opposite direction. He was in a damn good mood now. Even Jim couldn’t ruin this. Surely. His grin fell as he caught sight of the hulking figure. “Speak of the devil.” Tyler muttered.
The rest of the pack disappeared, he stooped to pick up the bucket he’d been about to take below deck before Malcolm had sidled up to him with the cards. That had been a temptation he couldn’t ignore, and it wasn’t like he could wait till his break. Jim didn’t give him breaks.
If he was honest, he was growing really sick of this. He felt like there was a rope around his neck growing tighter and tighter, and he had a knife in his hand but he hadn’t used it yet and he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he was being too much of a pushover, playing it too safe when it could be better to get it all out into the open, face the issue rather than try to skirt around it. He’d had to be involved in fights he hadn’t started many times. But this wasn’t his territory.
Tyler was thrown to the side as Jim shouldered past. Unable to keep it back any longer, perhaps just because his mind was on the topic, he finally snapped. “Watch it!”
The first mate practically skidded to a halt, seeming to grow in size as he loomed menacingly over the thief. “What did you just say?”
Nope, that was it. He was done feeling small. Tyler drew himself up to his full height, “Alright games up, what is your problem with me?” It started out as a hiss but ended up a lot louder, a release of something he’d been wanting to say for too long. Heads turned.
Jim’s lip curled. Tyler berated himself. There it was, complete satisfaction, this is what Jim had been waiting for all along, an excuse to fight openly. “I don’t like start up kids who strut round the place like they own it.”
“I’m not a child, and I don’t strut.” Strutting was for the rich, the ones who Tyler targeted. He was as far from being one of them as you could get.
“Well that’s the opinion I’ve formed of you, and you have yet to prove me wrong.”
He could have turned away, but he knew Jim wouldn’t let him do that. And if he didn’t they’d all get involved. This was just about him and Jim. No one else needed to get their hands dirty. Now he’d started down this road, Tyler decided to go for it. “You’re jealous of how she looks at me aren’t you?”
The twitch in Jim’s jaw told him he’d guessed right. It was always about Irena. “Don’t speak about things you don’t understand.” There it was again, that growl to his voice. The little puppy who had proved no match for a Wolf.
“Oh I understand perfectly, turned you down did she, broke your heart? And now she’s interested in me. That doesn’t sit too well with you does it?”
Tyler was ready for the fist that swung towards him, and ducked out of the way just in time. He wasn’t so lucky with the next punch. He staggered back a few steps, then launched himself at Jim.
Tyler had done time in the pits before, he knew how to fist fight. Apparently Jim had received training of his own, he didn’t pull his punches, and neither did Tyler. He was mildly aware of a crowd gathering around them, but he blocked them out, concentrating on the hulking figure before him. Jim was stronger, bigger, older, but Tyler had lived on the streets and been tutored by the thieves. Knuckles found contact, teeth gritted, blood splattering across the wooden boards as skin was broken. None of the gathering crew interfered; this fight had been brewing for some time and it showed in the way they attacked. Anyone who tried to stop them would end up worse off. Spitting blood from his mouth Tyler pulled out his dirtiest move, managing to knock Jim to the floor where he leapt atop him, punching, blocking the hits that Jim was still sending at him.
A foot connected with Tyler’s side and he was shoved across the deck, all of the wind knocked out of him.
He looked up, gasping for breath. Irena lowered her leg, glanced at Jim, who had frozen, still half on the floor, and only then bothered to look at Tyler.
Her voice was as icy as her expression when she spoke, “Get cleaned up, and then come to my quarters.”
~
Tyler pushed open the door slowly. A lamp bathed him in its warm glow. He looked up to see Irena seated at the table, lounging in one of the hard backed wooden chairs. Basking in the golden light, her hair and eyes both seemed to be made from flames. He shut the door.
“Sit.” She growled. He shook his head. Better to be standing in uncertain situations. He could move faster. She rearranged herself into a more formal seated position. “You look a state.”
Tyler said nothing. He’d got rid of the worst of the signs of the dispute, but his brow had been split open, and his jaw was going green. Jim hadn’t looked much better.
“Do you think you’re clever?” he opened his mouth, but she held up her hand to silence him. “I helped you. And this is how you repay me? Creating discourse within my crew, splitting them into gangs to quarrel like children?”
He swallowed, it still tasted like blood. The pin he kept in his gums hadn’t helped matters, but it was a risk that went with the job. He sucked at the pin out of habit, fitting it into a more comfortable position. The whole reason he’d let the fight happen had been to stop the discourse. “I didn’t start any of this.”
Irena pulled a knife from her belt. “Duck.”
Tyler obeyed.
The blade burrowed into the door with a thud. “I can hear you listening, get back to work you low lives!” She yelled. There was audible muttering and shuffling, which faded once again into silence. “I’m not concerned with who started it. It just needs to end.” Irena looked meaningfully at him, and in her dark eyes Tyler saw more than the scolding of captain to crew.
“Hang on, this isn’t just about the fight, is it?”
She said nothing but her expression betrayed her.
“I didn’t think anything had even started.” He grinned teasingly, his boyish confidence flooding back after the fire of the fight.
Her eyes flashed as she stood. “Consider this your first, and only, warning. You try nothing.”
“But I haven’t even had the chance to try anything.” He purred, taking a step closer.
She said his name with a sigh, looked down at the floor and leant her back against the wall. She tried to fold her hands behind her, but she moved them, as if she didn’t know where to put them. One brushed against his side, caught hold of his shirt.
Tyler got closer, placing a hand beside her face. She didn’t look up. He leaned in slowly until his lips were almost brushing her cheek. “I see how you look at me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You think you’re the first man I’ve wanted?” She murmured.
“Ah, so you do want something from me then.” He smiled, and his lower lip grazed her cheek.
At his touch her leg flicked out, tripping him up and knocking him to the floor. He landed on his back, dazed.
Irena crouched, leaning over him. Black eyes hollow but for a spark of light, like a lone star. “I know how to look after myself. You’ll have to try harder than that.” She straightened.
Tyler laughed, picking himself from the floor. He’d take that as encouraging, even if Irena did slam her bedroom door. He’d seen the smile on her lips before she’d turned away, and even a liar like her couldn’t hide the look in her eye. He slipped from the meet room, closing the door with barely a click. The moment the moonlight hit him he broke out into a wide grin. That had gone better than he’d expected.
Irena clutched her hand to her chest with a chuckle. He was persistent. It wasn’t a trait she normally looked for in a man, but she had to admit with him it held a certain charm. She’d always been careful to keep her crew and her men separate. Preferably separated by an ocean if possible. But he was a flirt; she’d seen him with the others. There was one thing he wanted from her and one thing only. That simplified things. She could deal with simple. Still…
It was a risk.
She liked risk, she wouldn’t have got to where she was without tak
ing them. She’d left her parents, went out on her own, and while she’d had the weight of their reputation behind her, it had made others have certain expectations of her. Irena had been sure to stamp on any rumours that she was anything other than a pure Wolf. Ruthless, calculating, clever. If she went to the bays to recruit there’d be a riot. Instead she chose to select her crew from the darkest places – prisons, brothels, the dead-end alleys where the lost and broken gathered. Not for anything noble, not to give them a fresh start, but because they made the best crew.
When you saved someone who was past the brink of hope their loyalty was fierce. He was different. He made her wary. She’d watched him in those moments when he’d thought no one was watching, when even he probably wasn’t aware of what he did. And he paced. He would pace the edge of the deck, eyes hunting the horizon for…something. Escape? He was like a bird in a cage.
Irena sat up on her bed, flicked open the window and leaned against the lead frame. There was a chill to the air tonight, and the clouds stirred. The sun was just beginning to sink below the waves, the last of its rays transformed into violet, orange and maroon. When she was five or six she’d made a point of watching the sun set every evening, so she could see the colours. There was too much blue at sea. Her mother had laughed when her little fire haired daughter had told her that. Lily had pointed down to the waters, “Just blue you say? Look there, green, teal, brown, white, turquoise, silver, grey, even gold. Never accept what you see at first sight.”
Her mother had a wistfulness to her that Irena had always envied. She was a dreamer, someone who saw things her daughter couldn’t. It was a side others didn’t notice. You ask after Tigerlily Wolf and you’d be told of a cold hearted killer. True, her mother could kill, but that didn’t mean that was all she was. Irena traced a finger over the folded metal. It was beginning to get uncomfortably cold in the room. Much as she didn’t want to admit to herself, despite taking a short stroll through her memories, Tyler was still at the forefront of her mind. She’d have to do something about that.
Chapter 9
Playing with fire
The bruises didn’t last long. Tyler had always found his skin healed quickly. It was a trait of where he hailed from, or so they said. There he was, on the topic of heritage again.
The Captain had made them shake hands in full view of the crew, declaring their animosity over. Tyler thought it was rather unfair he was being tarred with the same brush, he had nothing against the first mate and never had. Whatever problem Jim had with him was one sided. But he was beyond arguing at that point. He knew it wasn’t over, he felt it in the grip Jim inflicted on his arm, in the dark shadow marring his honey coloured eyes. For now Tyler was keeping his head down again, if not for himself and his own hide, for Irena.
The last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble. This was supposed to be a break for him, time enough until the mess cleared up and he could move back into the limelight. Making enemies on a pirate ship was not part of his plan.
Then again she wasn’t part of his plan either. But she was tempting.
His workload had admittedly eased off a bit, though he suspected that was more thanks to Ollie, Blue and Anya than anything else. Despite his protests they’d taken it upon themselves to help him, and seemed a lot busier than he’d seen them before. Jim didn’t openly complain, if just because the work was still getting done. In fact he appeared to be avoiding Tyler. Malcolm was more likely to dish out his orders than the first mate. It was not something the thief was opposed to.
The rooms below deck were always in strange shadow, an effect of the portholes and cracks in the old wood. Light travelled strangely down here, the dimness enough that it took a couple of blinks before your eyes adjusted to the gloom. Tyler was used to it now, so much so that he didn’t falter as he strode down the steps from the deck and along the corridor to the storerooms. Hopping down another hatch, he wandered to the lowest expanses of the ship, where a lot of their storage was. He’d been sent down to haul up some supplies – not the most favourable job, but he didn’t mind the climb too much. It meant he got a great excuse to root around for bits for himself as well. And if his pockets were a little heavier when he returned to deck, no one but him would know it.
He faltered as he heard steps behind him, and drew himself to a halt, looking over his shoulder. He knew her walk.
Irena barely blinked at seeing him when she turned the corner, she just carried on in the direction of the storeroom. Tyler braced his arm against the wall before he even knew what he was doing, stopping Irena in her tracks. She raised an eyebrow at him, her eyes deep pools of black. “Can I help you, Tyler?”
“Is it too cheesy if I say we really should stop meeting like this?” She opened her mouth to answer, her eyes narrowing a fraction. Tyler spoke before she could, “I seem to remember a similar situation, not all that long ago. But I believe I was a little closer, I was a little more bruised than I am now, and my lips were somewhere around this sort of area.” He watched her face as he leaned in. Her eyes closed a fraction before his mouth grazed against her earlobe, and something akin to a gasp escaped her lips. He pulled back with a smile. He’d been expecting to get punched for that.
Her hand snaked up his chest, grabbing hold of his collar and pulling him back to her. Their eyes met once more. She seemed unsure, seemed to be arguing with herself. Their breath mingled, and she leaned forward. The moment her top lip brushed his she snapped her head back and ducked under his arm, heading back up to the top deck.
Tyler blew out his cheeks, leaning against the wall for a moment and trying to recollect his thoughts. His heart was hammering, but he couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across his face. He’d seen the look in her eye. She wanted him. She couldn’t pretend anymore.
He chuckled to himself, and sauntered down the hall towards the storeroom.
“You like to punch above your weight don’t you?” Tyler spun, his eyes wide, then gritted his teeth when he saw Negrita leaning against the wall. “Didn’t your ma teach you not to play with fire?”
He grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the wall, pinning her there, “Shut. Up.”
“There you are.” Something akin to triumph sparked in her eyes. She coughed as his grip tightened. “If you don’t want to listen to me then fine. I’m just trying to help.”
“You? Help me? Don’t make me laugh Negrita. I know where your loyalties lie.”
“I was led to believe that this little dispute with you and Jim was supposed to be tidied up by now. Besides, don’t take offence to that. I did what I thought was right.”
“So I’ve convinced you I’m not a jumped up asshole Jailbird?”
Negrita smiled, bearing her arms in surrender. “My opinion of you still stands. But at the end of the day you’re one of the crew, I’ll have your back no matter what.”
“Then do me a favour and don’t tell anyone what you saw. I get the feeling Irena wouldn’t appreciate rumours spreading.”
“I didn’t see anything.” He dropped his grip of her, unsure whether he could really trust her word or not. She didn’t move, and he felt a stab of guilt as he spotted her skin reddening where he had grabbed her. He hadn’t meant to strike out like that. He debated apologising, then gritted his teeth and shouldered his way past her, focusing on the job he’d been sent down here to do. Negrita didn’t linger.
~
Irena twisted the blade in her palm, letting it dance across her knuckles before she caught it back in her hand. Five daggers were on her person at all times, and two beneath her pillow when she slept. She’d never been able to throw them like her mother, but she liked them all the same. The weight of them was a comfort. Should her swords ever fail her – and they hadn’t yet – she knew they were there. It was like having her mother beside her. They’d been one of the gifts her parents had given her when she’d taken on Siren’s Call. She’d lost the other some time ago.
She paused and gazed at the light playing on the
edge of the blade, tapped it against her lips. One more push and he’d probably give up. Right now, he was right where she wanted him. One word. She made a point of being the one to give permission. Men did not take her, she granted them her attentions, and they were grateful of it. Have it any other way and they got cocky, thought they held some sort of power over her. She snorted under her breath. Like that could happen. Romances were all just another play for power.
The dagger disappeared into a strap at her wrist. The thief wasn’t the only one who could perform parlour tricks. Irena strode to the door, pinned it open with her foot. She’d heard the rattle of the dice through the wood. No question as to who the culprit was. “Tyler?” He had one eye on her the minute the door opened. That sent a certain thrill up her spine.
“Captain?” A slight grin played over his lips, but she could read the other question behind it.
She took one last moment to consider her actions. But she knew what she wanted. “A word.”
He obeyed instantly, tossing the dice back onto the board, ignoring the groans of his audience. Irena kept her posture aloof, as far as they read she was planning on finally punishing him for tripling the gambling debts of the entire crew. She slammed the door behind the thief, drew across the bolt and checked the lock. He actually looked nervous.
She toyed with the handle behind her back. She’d not locked it before in his presence. But a locked door didn’t bother him. The reason his pulse was thundering was the glazed look that had come over her eyes, the sheen on her lips as she licked them. She took a step. “Don’t read into this too much.”
Before Tyler could say anything Irena closed the gap between them, her lips finding his in a collision so beautifully unexpected it took him a second to remember to respond. His arms snaked around her back, pulling her into him even as she pulled away, only far enough to meet his gaze. She gripped his chest, burying her hands in his shirt. Her breath teased against his neck, her eyes depthless.
Daughter of Wolves Page 7