“I’m flattered,” Reid said, not sure how to decline without offending his host.
A plate was placed in front of him, providing a momentary reprieve. “Thank you,” he said, looking up. He tried not to appear startled by the toothless face grinning back at him.
“The rest of us are hungry too, Penny,” the man said.
“You’ll get yours soon enough, Dread.” Penny’s lack of teeth explained the odd accent. “I can’t help if Doc’s my favorite.”
Reid was surprised to see on his plate a whole fish on leafy stuff greener than anything that ever came out of a can. “Is this grown food?” He poked it with his fork.
“Seaweed? I suppose so.” Penny made a face. “Never eat it myself.”
“It’s not grown food like you’re looking for,” Brandt said. “It grows in the ocean, but it won’t grow anywhere else. Give it a try—it’s not bad.”
Reid forked a bit of the ribbony material into his mouth, slurping in the trailing part he couldn’t bite off. It was the chewiest thing he’d ever eaten. Salty and bitter, but good. He was unsure how to go about eating the fish though, and poked at the skin with his fork.
“Hang on,” Mary said. “We did the meal up real classy to impress you, but there’s bones in there. Please, allow me.” She reached over and pulled the head of the fish away, extracting the skeleton and leaving the meat behind in one swift motion.
Reid placed a small portion of meat in his mouth. It was tender and practically melted on his tongue. He devoured half the fish before Penny brought Dread’s plate.
“I guess you like it,” Mary said. “Or you were really hungry.”
“Both,” Reid said with his mouth full.
“If you’re our doctor, we’ll supply all the fish you can eat. You tell your girl that neither of you will ever have to go fishing. You’ll live in our finest house, too. Want to see it?”
“Mary, let him catch his breath,” Nikolai said.
“What am I saying? Your girl will want to see it, too,” Mary continued. “Why don’t you go get her? We’ll feed her some lunch then show you both the house.”
“I’m afraid she was injured in Lost Angeles,” Nikolai said. “She’s unconscious.”
Mary frowned. “I hope she’ll be all right.”
“I hope so, too.” Reid wiped his mouth and placed his napkin on the table. “I need to go check on her, so if you’ll excuse me . . .” He stood.
“Of course,” Mary said. “Please consider my offer.”
“Thank you for lunch.” Reid grabbed his satchel, nodding goodbyes to Brandt and the others. He heard them continue their conversation as he hastened for the dock.
“What about you, Brandt?” Mary asked. “You think you might stay on Catalina?”
“Thanks, but I have other plans,” Brandt said.
Reid briefly wondered what Brandt’s plans were, but that could wait. With each minute that passed, he grew more anxious about Mia. He broke into a jog.
Ninety-Three
Lost Angeles
Pascal sat in the chair in Linus’s bedroom trying to recall memories of his son, but thoughts of Brandt kept intruding.
It was all Brandt’s fault. Linus’s death. Ellianna’s death. The death of his dream. It was Brandt who had put the events into motion, Brandt who was ultimately responsible.
You promised revenge. You swore it as I took my last breath. You swore.
Pascal heard his son’s voice as surely as if the boy were speaking, and the message was clear. He had to find Brandt and kill him.
No, not kill him. Brandt should know a loss so deep, so final, his world would never be the same. The lie he’d told Brandt—that Justine and the baby were dead—wasn’t enough.
Brandt should watch them die.
Pascal would make sure Brandt sat by helplessly while his future bled out in front of him.
He took Linus’s hand, pretending it was not cold. “We will have our revenge, son. I will find Justine and make Brandt watch as I cut the baby out of her. I promise.”
Ninety-Four
Catalina Island
“Lunch was delicious, Mary,” Nikolai said, pushing away his plate.
“I hope it impressed that doctor. Think it was fancy enough?”
“Plenty fancy.” Dread punctuated his comment with a belch into his fist.
“It was very nice.” Nikolai wiped his beard with his napkin.
“I hope it wasn’t too fancy.” Mary scowled. “I think I’ll do something else for him. Maybe find him a nice raincoat.”
“Mind if I tag along? I need new shoes,” Will said.
Mary tossed her napkin on the table. “Sure. What about you boys? Need anything?”
Nikolai looked at the splitting seams of his deck shoes and decided new ones weren’t worth what Mary would charge. “No, I’m good.”
“You’re coming, Dread.” Mary tugged on the man’s tank top and he stood. “How about you, Brandt?”
Brandt shook his head.
“See you on the Belle,” Will said as they left.
“Mind if I walk back with you?” Brandt asked Nikolai.
The sun was warm and the breeze cool as they strolled up the beach. They were almost to the pier before Brandt said what was on his mind.
“I was wondering what your plan is for leaving.”
“We depart at first light tomorrow,” Nikolai said.
“Heading south?”
“That depends on my daughter.” Nikolai looked out at the harbor, wishing with all his being that the Emancipation would sail into view. “If she’s not back, we’ll sail to San Clemente. Eventually, we’ll head north to San Francisco.”
“I’d like to come with you to San Francisco,” Brandt said. “But I don’t have anything to trade.”
“There’s no cause for trade. I’m in your debt for helping Will. You and your friends are my guests for as long as you like.”
A bell rang from the watch point at the mouth of the harbor, sounding the alert that a ship had been spotted. Nikolai’s soul leapt to his throat. He dashed down the pier, dodging men scurrying to their posts.
When he was in range, he cupped his hands and called to the crow’s nest of the Belle. “What ship?” He prayed to all the gods to allow it to be Kennedy returning with his daughter on board, alive and well.
“The Emancipation!”
“What’s she flying?” Nikolai held his breath while the watch checked the flag through binoculars.
“Charlie. She’s flying Charlie.”
Nikolai let out a whoop.
Before the Emancipation had even tied up to the dock, Tatiana leapt into Nikolai’s arms.
“Moy m’ily mal’yish. My sweet, sweet, girl.” He squeezed her, then held her at arm’s length. “Are you hurt? Did they cut you?” He hugged her again.
“I’m fine. They didn’t catch me.” Tatiana’s eyes held enough sadness to fill the ocean. “But I was wrong about the seeds. I risked everything for nothing.”
“It’s over now. You’re okay, Will’s okay. That’s all that matters.”
“I’m so sorry, Dad. I’ll never do anything like that again.”
“You’d better not,” Kennedy said, joining them on the dock.
“Captain.” Nikolai extended his hand. When Kennedy took it, Nikolai clasped his hand tightly between both palms. “I will never be able to adequately thank you for bringing her back.”
“No thanks are necessary, sir,” Kennedy said. “I love your daughter. I should have been upfront about our relationship from the beginning, and I intend to make up for that mistake.”
“No need. All is forgiven. You are family now.”
“Whoa, what planet did I come back to?” Tatiana said.
“Tatiana,” Will shouted, running down the pier like his hair was on fire. “Thank God.” He wrapped his arms around her.
“What’s going on here? Have aliens taken over both you and Dad?”
“It’s my fault. I could have
gotten you killed.” Will’s voice brimmed with emotion.
“That’s BS!” Tatiana said. “I made you take me there. What’s gotten into everyone?”
“If something had happened to you, I never would have forgiven myself.”
“Jesus, Will. Go have a couple ciders and maybe I’ll recognize you again.” Tatiana shoved him. “And Dad? It’s kinda freaking me out that you don’t hate my boyfriend.”
Kennedy laughed and put his arm around Tatiana’s waist. “I’d better take you to see Cook if I want to live to fight another day.”
“Maybe take her to see the medic, too,” Nikolai suggested. “He could check her over.”
“No thanks,” Tatiana said, letting Kennedy steer her toward the Belle. “There’s nothing wrong with me a little swamp tea won’t cure.”
“You actually drink that stuff?” Will said.
“Voluntarily,” Kennedy said, making a face over his shoulder.
Nikolai’s heart was full watching his daughter walk away, safe and happy, with a man who perhaps was almost good enough for her. And his son— “William, I’m proud of you.”
“How can you say that after what I’ve done?”
“What you’ve done? I came to rescue a foolish, impulsive boy, but found a man who’d already rescued himself. Everyone makes mistakes, but not everyone learns from them.”
“I won’t make a mistake like that again.”
“Not exactly like that, no. But there will be plenty more mistakes. I wouldn’t want it otherwise.”
“I never knew you were so smart.”
Nikolai laughed. “I remember the day I discovered that my father wasn’t an idiot.” He grinned thinking how much Will resembled the old man. Everything came full circle eventually. If you lived long enough. “All right, I need to go find Markoff. You coming?”
“I need to check over the Belle one more time, make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
“See? You’ve become a man. My job is done.” Nikolai ruffled Will’s hair like he had when he was a child.
Nikolai went in search of Markoff, expecting to find him snoring off a hangover. Instead, he was upright, clean-shaven, and smelled like he’d bathed in cologne.
“My friend,” Markoff boomed. “I understand a celebration is in order.”
“News travels fast.”
“As do the southern pirates. If we’re to toast your daughter’s return, we best do it now. I’ll wager we do battle with those southern scoundrels before my beard grows a shadow.”
“That soon?”
“I’m sure they were mighty pissed off.”
“Then we’d better make ready for battle or get the hell out of here. Have you given any thought to coming north? Kennedy gave you Alcatraz free and clear. You’d be the only pirates around, and right at the source of the cider.”
“Getting out of these muddy waters and starting over—especially where there’s plenty of cider—does have appeal. But running from a fight is not the pirate way.”
Nikolai raised his eyebrows.
“Well, sometimes it is,” Markoff amended. “But not this time.”
They strolled to the starboard rail and surveyed Avalon Harbor.
“My friend, a question.” Nikolai chose his words carefully. “If you plan to come to Alcatraz, what is the wisdom in risking lives to hold a piece of land you no longer need? We could sail north together, strength in numbers.”
Markoff sighed. “I may be captain of my ship and commander of the fleet, but I’m not in charge of shit on dry land. I could leave with the ships and enough men to sail them, but Mary won’t go, and twice as many souls are loyal to her than to me. If I left, they’d be unprotected.”
“Mary’s an intelligent woman. Convince her.”
“That’s my plan, but even for a man of my extraordinary talents, there’s simply not enough time for the parlay and sexual favors it’ll take to convince Mary to leave her island.”
Nikolai noted the sheepish look on Markoff’s face. “Mary’s your woman?”
“That she is, and a damn fine one, too. Sweet as your Cook’s apple strudel, voracious as a tiger shark in the bunk, and a helluva lot smarter than you or me.” Markoff shook his head. “But I’ve never known a human being—man, woman or child—as stubborn. It’ll take more than one afternoon and a barrel of cider to convince her to leave her island.”
“I know a little about stubborn women,” Nikolai said. “I’ll ready my men for battle.”
Markoff grabbed his arm. “Don’t misunderstand me, old friend. Your offer is generous and much appreciated, but if the southerners see your ships, it won’t be a fight, it will be a war. When pirates fight pirates, there’s a whole lotta cussing and spitting and farting and hurling of insults, but little bloodshed. We’ll see some fistfights and bullets fired in the air, and if anyone gets captured, it might not be pretty, but usually nobody dies. With you here, everything becomes a bit too real.”
“Understood,” Nikolai said. “My apologies. I’d assumed things had changed since I was last in your waters, what with the southern pirates aligning with Pascal, and their strange new cutting practices.”
“Believe me, if the day comes when the southern pirates are our true enemy, it will be ugly. And I’m concerned things may be headed in that direction. But until I know differently, pirates will be pirates and fight like brothers.”
“Then I’m glad to leave you to it,” Nikolai said. “And I’ll hope to see you up in San Francisco Bay waters.”
“You’re sure there’s plenty of cider to go around?”
“Before my wife died—” Nikolai paused, realizing how odd it was he still thought of Jess as his wife. “She planted orchards upon orchards of apple trees across Marin County. They’re harvesting well now, enough to make cider for everyone.” Hopefully. If all the pirates imbibed like their captain, Creighton might not be able to keep up with demand.
“And you’re sure all we gotta do is fish?”
“That’s the usual arrangement. The brewmaster despises fishing.”
“Then I say we have an accord, Captain.”
Ninety-Five
Catalina Island, aboard the Belle
“Squeeze my hand, Mia.” There was still no response, but Reid tried not to let that discourage him. There were plenty of good signs. Her breathing was stronger, he could elicit pain and reflex responses, and she continued showing signs of dreaming. It was only a matter of time before she showed intentional action.
He didn’t want to consider the possibility of permanent brain damage, but the thought persisted no matter how staunchly he tried to ignore it.
“Can I come in?” Brandt poked his head in the door.
“I was wondering when you’d stop by.”
“I didn’t want to intrude,” Brandt said. “How is she? Has she woken up?”
“Not yet, but she’s showing signs.”
“That’s good.” Brandt stared at Mia. “Nikolai’s daughter is back.”
“That’s terrific. He must be so relieved.”
“You should’ve seen the expression on his face. He didn’t look like the same person.”
“I bet.”
“They’re leaving on the Belle for San Francisco soon, and we’re welcome to go. I didn’t know what you wanted to do, if maybe you were thinking about staying here.”
“I haven’t thought about anything except Mia.” Reid cringed realizing how long it had been since he’d thought of Kayla or home. “What are you going to do?”
“Get as far from Lost Angeles as I can.”
“What do you think, Mia?” Reid asked. “Does San Francisco sound okay?”
“She can hear us?”
“I believe she can. You should talk to her.”
Brandt shook his head. “I, I can’t. I feel too guilty. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“Why should you feel guilty? It’s my fault this happened. If I’d listened to you from the beginning . . .” Justine would still be
alive.
“You don’t understand . . . I’m the one who did this to her.”
“What?”
“I didn’t mean to knock her out.”
“That woman in the Tank—”
“She was telling the truth.” Tears rolled down Brandt’s face. “I didn’t want to hurt Mia. I was just trying to buy time to get out of there.”
Reid bit back the venomous words that filled his throat. He wanted to rail at Brandt for being so selfish, so cowardly, for hurting Mia to save his own skin. But the man was already broken.
“You got her out of there alive,” Reid said. “You got us all out.”
Ninety-Six
Lost Angeles
Pascal hadn’t eaten, hadn’t showered, hadn’t left Linus’s room. He’d have no peace until Justine was found, and no one else would, either. Every Blade, every clerk, every available body was searching for her, fanning out and going through every house starting from where they’d found the vehicle. He’d left Gomez in charge of the command post with strict orders for the search to continue around the clock.
There had been some grumbling about burying the dead. But the dead were already dead. What did they care?
The dead.
Linus.
No. His son was sleeping.
A little while ago, Linus had asked for a brandy and they’d discussed the strategy for the search. His son was fine. A little more tired than usual, but otherwise fine.
Pascal turned his thoughts back to Brandt. It was important to keep his focus there.
He imagined his revenge, the images feeding his rage. Fueling it. Stoking the flames until it burned so hot, it kept away the black tendrils of emotion that threatened to twine around him and pull him into the depths.
This was all Brandt’s fault. All that mattered now was making Brandt pay.
The door flung open and Gomez burst in, minus his usual decorum and sweater vest.
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