Death Doesn't Bargain: A Deadman's Cross Novel

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Put a human woman in front of him …

  His breeches had fallen straight to his ankles as if controlled by magic. He’d been more wanton than any harlot imaginable. And yet with all those women he’d never known real desire or hunger.

  Until Cameron Jack.

  It was why he shouldn’t have come back here, he realized as he saw her standing on deck with the others, and he felt a rising panic at the thought of her being harmed in this fight.

  Or worse, her being taken again by their enemies.

  I kill everything I love.

  Just like his father. The only thing that had saved Kalder from his family’s curse in the past was the fact that his father hadn’t loved him at all.

  Not that it mattered. Kalder had never been particularly sentimental about anything or anyone.

  And right now, he needed to be focused on this fight, as the lusca was currently kicking his arse and would kill him if he didn’t get his head off the lass who was watching him and back in the fight he was supposed to be having.

  The beast lifted up in the sea and squalled out with a tremendous shriek.

  Kalder pulled back, expecting another attack to rain down on him. Instead, he saw a cannonball land squarely against the creature’s hideous neck. Followed by two more powerful shots. Blood and sinew spewed out over him and the creature. He felt good about that.

  For about a minute.

  Then it exploded and sent all manner of nastiness coating his body and clogging up his gills.

  Screwing his face up, he silently cursed every member of the now cheering crew.

  Until he heard the sounds of someone sputtering in the water near him.

  At first he thought one of the Deadmen had fallen overboard, and was drowning. It was a normal enough occurrence in battle, as many of them couldn’t swim since they had never been near deep bodies of water in their human lifetimes. For that matter, most had never been near even a modest bath by the smell of them.

  He’d always assumed that was the primary reason Bane had wanted him for their crew. Made sense, as Kalder usually fished them out and returned them to the ship during battle.

  But as he neared the man who was struggling in the water, he drew up short at the unique sight of silvery skin and dark hair that marked him as something other than human.

  Not a fellow Deadman at all.

  This was a Myrcian.

  And not just any Myrcian …

  “Muerig?”

  His brother coughed and wheezed as if trying to get his bearings. “Kal!”

  Shocked, amazed, and not quite sure if he could believe what he was seeing, Kalder grabbed him in the water, and pulled him closer to his chest. “What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t know. Where am I?”

  Dumbfounded, Kalder tried to make sense of this. “You’re back in the world of the living.”

  Surrendering his weight to Kalder, his brother scowled as he looked around in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”

  Neither did he. But right now, that didn’t matter. Only getting them both back to the ship did. “Come on.” Thrilled and confused, he wrapped one arm beneath his brother’s armpits, and swam with him toward the Sea Witch.

  Kalder climbed up the side and lifted his brother over the edge first, then made his own way to the deck.

  Bane seized him in one angry, malevolent fist and lifted him with a disturbing amount of ease given Kalder’s immense size and amount of muscle weight and saturation. No man should be this strong. “What were you thinking, you wee daft fish?”

  Kalder blinked at the new insult Bane had found for him. “That you needed someone in the water.”

  “You defied my orders!”

  So what was new? Bane acted as if he’d never done such before, and Kalder would have said that out loud, but wasn’t quite so suicidal given the rage on his captain’s face. Nor could he fathom it. As noted, he wasn’t exactly known for following anyone’s dictates. Not even Bane’s. So why the captain was surprised by his insubordination, he had no idea.

  For once, he stilled his tongue and merely arched a brow at Bane’s distemper.

  Rather, he gestured at Muerig. “Have you met me brother, Captain?”

  That at least succeeded in causing Bane to loosen his death grip enough that Kalder could breathe again.

  “Pardon?”

  Kalder cleared his throat as he extracted the last of his shirt with an exaggerated grimace from Bane’s grip. “Me brother Muerig.” He moved to kneel by his brother’s side so that he could check on him.

  While Kalder tended him, Thorn and Belle came to help. Though the expression on Thorn’s face said he was suspicious enough that he might be considering tossing them both overboard again and summoning another lusca to have them.

  Thorn narrowed his gaze on Muerig. “How did you get free?” Aye, there was pure venom in that tone.

  Muerig wiped a shaking hand over his chin. “They let me go.”

  Thorn laughed bitterly before he met Bane’s equally suspicious glare. “Gadreyal never lets anyone go.”

  “Truth to that.” Bane stepped forward. “Unless she has mischief intended. Or they’re in league with her.”

  Well aware of where this was headed, Kalder rose to his feet to defend his brother, and even though he knew it for the folly it was, he stood his ground on this matter. They weren’t about to harm his kin. Not while he was there to stop it. “He’s me baby brother, Captain.”

  Thorn and Bane passed a look between them that shriveled his stones a bit, as he had no doubt they were questioning his sanity, and debating whether or not to geld him, and cast his brother, and his stones to the sharks.

  But after a long pause the captain let out a deep sigh of resignation. “Keep a weather eye, Mr. Dupree. People, even beloved brothers, change. Seldom for the better. Usually toward the worst.” Bane glanced over to his younger sister, who’d come back to him after her own death at the hands of Bane’s enemies. “But I know the pain of losing what you hold dearest, and I won’t be depriving you of your family. Just remember the first rule of betrayal.”

  That it never comes from the hand of a stranger or enemy.

  Only the ones you trust can betray you.

  It was a lesson Kalder had learned before he’d been weaned from the teat of the whore who’d whelped him.

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” Kalder’s gaze went to Cameron and his stomach tightened as he realized that he had a lot more to lose now.

  This time, he cared.

  “I’ll be on me guard.”

  Thorn’s tic picked up its pace in his cheek. “What did they say when they freed you?”

  Muerig shrugged. “Nothing. They just let me go.”

  Holding out his hand, Thorn helped him to his feet. He kept his expression guarded.

  “Take him below, Mr. Dupree. See him settled.” Bane stepped toward Thorn. “And welcome to the Deadmen.”

  Kalder didn’t miss the icy undertone in those words. Not that he blamed him. Bane knew nothing of his brother. Or his loyalty. But he’d learn …

  Thorn watched as Kalder led his brother away and the Deadmen returned to normal. Or at least as normal as this crew of miscreants could manage.

  Though to be honest, there were now members of the crew who weren’t technically Deadmen anymore.

  Kalder, of course.

  And Devyl and his sister Elyzabel—an ancient magickal Deruvian like Mara. Elyzabel was a slender woman with long brown hair and amber eyes, and was a balm for her brother Devyl’s most cruel nature. Because of her brother’s care and sacrifice, Elyzabel had never given in to the darker side of their people. As with Mara, she was a creature of pure light and, thanks to her brother, she would forever remain so.

  Yet Thorn saw in all their gazes the same suspicion about Muerig that he held.“You don’t trust him either.”

  Devyl shook his head. “Something about him’s not right. I can feel it with every instinct inside me.”

 
“Aye,” Elyzabel agreed. “Gaddy would never release him without nefarious cause. Kindness is as alien to her as trust is to you.”

  When she started after them, Devyl gently took her arm to keep his sister by his side. “You’re to stay clear of them, at all times.”

  She chided at her brother. “Duey—”

  “I mean it, Elf!” His tone was brittle and sharp. “I lost you once. Don’t make me set fire to them for looking askance at you. Especially not Kalder. I’ll gut him as sure as I’m standing here to protect you.”

  Her expression softened. “Fine, but only because you asked me so kindly.” Her sarcasm was quite impressive. She glanced past his shoulder to Mara. “However, my dearest brother, I would caution you to remember that I now have a secret weapon.”

  Devyl arched his brow. “And that is?”

  She jerked her chin toward his wife. “The one thing you’ll never say nay to.” And with that she cast him a most impertinent smile and sashayed off to join Belle.

  Thorn laughed.

  As did Mara, before she smiled up at her husband. “Have I said how much I love your sister, Du? She’s as precious as the day is long.”

  He let out an exasperated breath as he passed a droll stare to Thorn. “I curse the day the two of them ganged up against me. I haven’t had a moment of peace since.”

  Thorn snorted at his dire tone. But he knew the truth. Devyl loved every minute of having those women near him. “I hear the lie in your words, and I call you on it.”

  Thunder clapped overhead, punctuating his pronouncement.

  “Storm’s a-coming,” Blake Landry called out from the crow’s nest.

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious, for your astute observations!” Will snorted as he drew near them. “So glad he’s on watch for us. Whatever would we do with a more competent pair of eyes on the horizon, I ask you?”

  Ignoring them, Thorn returned to his conversation with Devyl. “When I freed Kalder, they were torturing his brother and making the Myrcian watch.”

  “Sounds like Vine.”

  “Aye, but freeing him out of the goodness of her heart doesn’t.”

  By his hooded expression, Devyl had to bite back an excessively caustic retort over that. “Am thinking to borrow Mr. Death’s insult for you, Captain Obvious.”

  With a mirthless smirk, Thorn crossed his arms over his chest. “You know Vine better than anyone, Duel. Tell me where her head was when she freed him.”

  Up her arse. He knew that for a fact. She was about mischief most foul, and as usual, he was the target. Sad thing was, poor Kalder was caught in the snare this time, and for that, he was truly irritated. “There’s a debt I owe, from long ago. One I promised to keep sacred.”

  “And?”

  “And I failed. Vine knows the source of it, as she was there when the bargain was struck between us.” Devyl should have killed her then. Too bad he’d been married to her at the time, and had thought to keep his family intact. Stupid him for being sentimental.

  “Care to fill me in on it?”

  Not really. Devyl didn’t want to confide in Thorn. Long ago, they had been the bitterest of enemies. It was hard to get past that. Hard to trust someone he’d once spent years trying to slaughter.

  But they were allies now.

  More than that, he owed Thorn his life.

  His current marriage.

  And his sanity.

  Had the bastard not saved him, he’d still be in hell and not married to the only woman he’d ever loved. So perhaps he could find a little faith in the beast even if Thorn was the son of all evil.

  So Devyl decided to take a little leap. “Do you know who Kalder’s father is?”

  “A Myrcian, of course.”

  Oh, with that level of sarcasm the wee bastard made it hard not to gut him where he stood. Harder still not to slap him. Akantheus Leucious of the Brakadians sorely tried what little patience Devyl managed. And the smug gleam in those green eyes said that he took entirely too much pleasure in his taunting. No wonder he’d cast off his old name and started going by Thorn instead. It was definitely apropos, as the man was certainly a thorn in everyone’s arse.

  Letting out a disgusted “heh,” Devyl shook his head. “King Daven.”

  Unlike Leucious back in those dark, fun-filled days, Daven had been one of Devyl’s friends and allies. One of the sad, tiny handful he could trust.

  Well, mayhap “friend” was a bit much, as neither of them were exactly friendly. But they’d drunk together and spent cordial time without fighting.

  That was as close to friendship as either of them could manage.

  Daven Dupree had possessed his own mental issues with those around him. Myrcians by nature were a warring lot. Treacherous and slanderous. And his own family had been quick to sell him out to their Roman adversaries. Even quicker to betray him to the fey bastards out to end them.

  So the two of them, as warlords, had allied together to secure their borders, and protect their lands and people from family and enemies.

  Better still, Daven had united his forces with Devyl’s to fight against Leucious’s sanctimonious army. And had treachery not ended his old ally’s life, Daven might have succeeded in putting Leucious out of Devyl’s misery for good.

  As it was, the mention of Daven’s name at least succeeded in taking the smugness from the prick. Indeed, Thorn actually choked. “You’re not kidding?”

  He shook his head. “Surprised you didn’t recognize him. Kalder looks just like his father.”

  Leucious cursed under his breath. “I’ve had so many enemies throughout the centuries … hard to keep track of them all.”

  “True. Sooner or later, we all want to kill you.”

  Thorn glared at him.

  “What?” he asked innocently. Not like it was his fault. Leucious Thorn had a way of getting on pretty much everyone’s kill list. And he’d once been at the very top of Devyl’s.

  Some days he still was.

  Letting out an irritated breath, Thorn shook his head and continued their conversation. “So it was Queen Bron who gutted him, then. I’m shocked she’d kill her own child.”

  Devyl laughed bitterly. “His mother isn’t the bitchington what gutted him.”

  It took Thorn a moment to catch on to what Devyl meant by that. When he did, he gaped. “What?”

  “Aye, you heard me. Bron was the Myrcian queen and Daven’s wife, but she didn’t birth Kalder. She only raised him at his father’s behest and led the boy to believe she was his mother. Kalder never knew any differently—per his father’s dictates. After his father died, and so long as I lived, I was the threat that stayed her hand from the boy. She didn’t dare harm him for fear of what I might do to her.”

  Tragically, when Vine killed Devyl, she’d left Kalder without a protector. The boy hadn’t lasted a year before Bron had found a way to legally murder him. There’d been many a day when Devyl had wondered if Bron had placed her own son in harm’s way just for the excuse of slaughtering Kalder with impunity. He wouldn’t put it past her.

  Women were treacherous that way, and none more so than Daven’s chosen queen.

  She and Vine had had much in common that way.

  “If Bron wasn’t his mother, then who was?”

  That was the real rub of it all. And the true source of Kalder’s powers.

  And Bron’s true fears.

  “Melusine.”

  Thorn choked again at a name Devyl knew he wasn’t expecting. “As in the river goddess?”

  “Aye. One and the same.”

  “And Kalder has no idea?”

  Devyl shook his head. “None whatsoever.”

  “Does Vine know?”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he shrugged. “That would be the question of the day, wouldn’t it?”

  Aye, it would. Because if she knew … “Why would she let him go if she had knowledge of his real birth mother?”

  “Indeed.” Devyl paused to give him time to consider the gravit
y of it all. “Whoever has possession of Kalder has a direct line to one of the oldest and deadliest of ancient powers. A power that Vine could use to destroy not only you, but me as well, and the entire world as we know it.”

  Thorn cursed. “If Kalder has no idea what a critical piece he is in this game, then we need to assume that Vine does know and that his brother is her lure to get him back to her side of the veil.”

  “I’ll do you one better.”

  Thorn scowled. “What’s that?”

  “That his brother’s here to get our Miss Jack to their side so that she can deliver Kalder over to them with a bow around his neck.”

  Thorn let out a low growl of agreement at the insidiousness of such a plan. “Double jeopardy.”

  Devyl nodded. “Vine’s specialty. Either way, she wins and Kalder loses.”

  5

  “So she’s a doll made entirely of straw?”

  Kalder scoffed at Muerig’s oversimplification of Valynda Moore’s inhuman state and bitter plight. A conclusion too easy to draw whenever one first met the woman and saw her poppet-like appearance. “Not exactly. She was a lady bespelled by a man who was in love with her and wanted to force her to love him. Because he didn’t understand the magick he invoked, her soul was accidentally pulled from her body, and her body destroyed before she could reclaim it. For now, to keep her from dying, her soul was placed in this current straw form to hold it safe and secure, but if she redeems herself, she’ll be returned to a flesh state so that she may live out her life as a living woman again.”

  Muerig appeared to be unable to grasp the concept of it. “How is that possible? Surely you can see that it defies all logic!”

  No more so than his brother being returned to this realm when he’d died so long ago.

  Or, for that matter, Kalder being brought back from the dead, not once, but twice. Face it, there was much in their world that made no sense whatsoever. Who was he to argue the logic of Valynda’s current form? Never mind, for Muerig to play the skeptic.