So here he was, out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, holding onto his grandfather’s talisman and planning to call up some mythological creature to attack another smuggler’s ship. When had his life gotten so crazy? He wanted to be anywhere other than here, doing this. Len wasn’t a huge drinker, but right now he wanted a stiff drink so bad he shook with the thought of it.
“Stiffen your spine, boy,” Red said with a sneer. “It is time. Are you ready?”
Ready to go home, hell yeah. “You bet,” Len said. “So, how do I work this thing? Are there some kind of magic words or something? I said a bunch of stuff the first time, but I have no idea which one worked.”
Red laughed, the sound rolling out into the encroaching darkness to mix with the noise of the waves crashing against the side of the hull. “There are no magic words, silly man. This is an amulet for a pirate, not a witch’s toy. Hold out your hand, and think of how badly you want the kraken to come.”
Len did as Red asked, the talisman sitting in his open palm, stretched out before him. Before he could brace himself, the tattooed man pulled out a huge knife and sliced into the fleshy part of Len’s hand, right next to one of the brass tentacles.
“What the hell!” Len shouted. But then the blood oozed from the shallow cut into contact with the amulet, and that strange buzzy feeling echoed through his arm and up into the rest of his body. The amulet seemed to writhe in his hand. The stone in the middle slid open to reveal its single swirling eye.
Magic. Shit. It was real. Painful, apparently, but real.
“Find me the ship with money and guns,” he whispered to the eye. “Sink it, and bring me the money.”
Red nodded with satisfaction. “Now you will see,” he said. “Now you will see the might of the kraken.”
Len put the amulet down reverently on a storage chest nearby and wiped his hand with an almost clean rag. “You could have warned me about the blood part,” he said to Red with a scowl.
“What would the fun of that have been?” the pirate said. One gold tooth gleamed when he grinned. “You should have seen your face when I pulled out my knife. Ha ha ha.”
Ha. Sure. Very funny. Len settled himself against the side of the boat to wait for the kraken. After all, just because he’d gotten the strange medallion to activate, didn’t mean that it would actually control the monster, or that the thing would be able to find the ship they wanted. Or that it would be able to retrieve the money, even if it did.
The more he thought about it, the less likely success seemed, and the more he longed for a warm room and a bottle of whiskey.
“Aha!” Red bellowed, startling Len so much he almost slid onto the deck on his ass. “Look!”
Len followed Red’s pointing finger toward the setting sun. Just barely visible against its orange glow was the silhouette of a much larger ship, its back end tilting precariously as a giant tentacle wrapped itself around the stern. Len almost imagined he could hear the screams of the men aboard as they fell into the sea. Within minutes, the entire ship had vanished beneath the surface. Len knew he probably should have felt bad about the crew, but instead, he felt a heady surge of power. Who was the weak, skinny kid now, eh?
“Come on, kraken,” he said to the empty ocean. “Bring me my money, there’s a good little monster.”
The big man next to him coughed. “Our money, was that not what you meant to say? And I suspect it would be best not to speak to the mighty beast of the deep as if it were a pet dog fetching a ball.”
“Um, yeah, sure thing,” Len agreed, gazing greedily out over the waves. Still nothing. Where was it?
Suddenly, a massive tentacle rose over the side of the boat. Len’s stomach lurched; he’d forgotten how huge and frightening the damn thing was. But it was on his side…right? It wouldn’t hurt him. He was its master. The hovering tentacle, larger than a ship’s mast, made those probable facts hard to remember. He swallowed hard, tasting bile.
A thud made him jump, but it was just a heavy package being dropped onto the deck. The tentacle slid back down toward the sea, leaving a glistening trail of salty slime behind it on the edge of the hull.
“Uh, thanks!” Len said as the medallion’s eye gave one more eerie swirling movement then blinked closed again, returning to its usual inert and benignly ugly appearance. But he waited until the rubbery appendage had completely vanished before walking slowly toward the dripping mass sitting in the middle of the deck.
“Allow me,” Red said with a purr of satisfaction in his voice. He took his knife and slid it through the black plastic and duct tape as if they were tissue.
As the wrappings fell away, they revealed smaller bundles enclosed in clear plastic. Len stifled a cheer as he spotted the hundred dollar bills on the top of each stack. The kraken had done it! It wasn’t Red’s legendary treasure, but at least it was a start.
“This is what you wanted?” Red said, look at the money with a dubious expression. “It is not very shiny.”
“It’s cash,” Len said, shaking his head. “It’s not supposed to be shiny. But it sure as hell can buy you plenty of shiny things. I’m guessing there’s about twenty, twenty-five thousand there. Not bad for a night’s work.”
Red still seemed less than impressed. “I would have preferred diamonds,” he said. “But if you say this is good, I suppose I believe you. Is it enough to get us a larger ship and men to crew it?”
“You bet,” Len said, picking up the talisman and hanging it back around his neck. He stroked it fondly before he tucked it back under his flannel shirt. “We’re in the pirate business, my friend. Let’s go rent a ship.”
“Rent?” Red said. “We’re going to rent a pirate ship?”
“Well, sure,” Len said. “I mean, it would cost a lot more than this to buy one.” He had no idea what the hell was wrong with the other man. Len was doing everything he wanted, and the guy still seemed pretty bent out of shape. Still, Len knew the cure for that. “Come on. Let’s go back in. The first drink’s on me.”
His only answer sounded strangely like a growl.
* * *
Bethany knocked hesitantly on the door to the guest house. It was late, and her father was in bed, but she could see by the light that Alexei was still up. He’d been strangely subdued since he’d returned from his outing with the pretty blonde girl. He was quiet at dinner, although Beka had been cheerful and pleasant, and had eaten enough fish and chips for any two sailors. After his friend left, Alexei had even helped do the dishes after dinner.
Bethany was afraid he was coming down with something or maybe wrecked her father’s boat and was afraid to say so. So she figured she’d just check on him. Not that she was worried about him, or anything. Just wanted to make sure the boat was okay. That was it.
The door opened a crack and she looked up - she always forgot how tall Alexei was until she was standing right next to him.
“What?” a grumpy voice said out of the shadows. “Problem with your father?”
“No,” Bethany said. “He’s fine. Snoring away like an outboard motor. Can I come in for a minute?”
A sigh gusted out over her head. “Sure,” he said, opening the door wider. She’d thought maybe he would be in his pajamas for the night, but he was still wearing a pair of jeans. And nothing else. The sight of his bare chest and broad shoulders took her breath away for a minute and she had to force herself not to stare. He was built as though he’d been carved out of granite, all chiseled muscles and smooth skin.
“Did you want something?” Alexei asked, raising an eyebrow.
Oh, hell yeah. It had been a long time since her last boyfriend, who had been, admittedly, boring beyond belief, both in bed and out. Bethany cleared her throat. “Ah, I just wanted to talk to you, if I’m not interrupting anything.” She tried looking past him instead of at him. “Do you want to go put on a shirt?”
“Why?” he asked. “I’m not cold.” She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a glint of amusement in his eyes. If so, it vanis
hed quickly enough.
She followed him into the living area, a small square room with a television, seating for four, and a simple desk in the corner, all decorated in classic Cape Cod - pictures of boats on the wall, vases full of seashells, and an old lobster trap that had been turned into a lamp. The couch was covered in faded chintz, not that you could see much of it under the giant dog currently taking up most of the available space.
Alexei had clearly been sitting in one of the armchairs, which was about two sizes too small for him. Bethany tried not to think about how sweet it was that he let the dog have the only decent piece of furniture in the room.
“Hello Lulu,” she said, walking over to scratch the Great Dane behind one ear. “You’re looking lovely this evening. Also, you’re not allowed on the couch.”
Neither the dog nor the man seemed overly impressed by her statement.
“It took her three tries to get up there. She’s going to give birth any second now,” Alexei said. “Let her be comfortable.”
“I’d just as soon she didn’t do it on the sofa,” Bethany said, but she snuck a treat out of her pocket and gave it to Lulu anyway before she went to sit down in the chair opposite Alexei.
He was holding a half full glass of what looked like straight whiskey, and a nearly empty bottle sat on the table next to him. The lobster lamp was the only light in the room, but she didn’t think the bad lighting alone was responsible for the shadows under his eyes.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You seemed kind of quiet at dinner.”
He shrugged, making the muscles in his shoulders ripple in an alarmingly attractive way. “Long day. Nothing to worry about.”
“Didn’t you have a good time with your friend? She seemed awfully happy to see you.” Bethany reminded herself that Beka was married, and not interested in Alexei. Not that it was any of Bethany’s business. She clearly needed to keep reminding herself of that, too. And, you know, stop staring at his remarkable physique. Although damn.
“Did something bad happen? If you damaged my dad’s boat, it’s not a big deal.”
“I did not damage your father’s boat,” Alexei snarled, his face indignant. “Everything is fine.”
“Then why are you sitting here in the near-dark, drinking the better part of a bottle of whiskey?”
He raised his glass in a mock toast. “The worse part, too.”
Bethany rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how you manage to sound so coherent with the amount you drink.”
“I have a fast metabolism,” Alexei said. “Also, I’m Russian.”
“Uh huh. That probably explains the brooding, too.” She reached out and took a sip out of his glass, hardly wincing at all as the harsh spirits burned her throat on the way down. “You know, you can talk to me. I mean, if you want to.”
“Nothing to talk about,” he said, grabbing the glass back. “I was just missing my brothers, that’s all.”
“You have brothers?” Bethany had always wondered what it would be like not to be an only child. “Where do they live?”
“Gregori is in Minnesota now, helping his lady to run a organization that helps at-risk teens, and Mikhail lives in the ass-end of upstate New York with his new wife and her baby.”
Interesting phrasing, but Bethany decided that now wasn’t the time to ask. “How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”
Alexei shrugged again. “A year. Maybe more.”
“Are you close?” Bethany felt like she was hauling each answer out of him with an almost physical effort. Still, at least he was talking to her. Sort of.
“We used to be. Spent most of our time together for many, many years.”
Well, that explained why he missed them, but not why he hadn’t seen them in a year. “Did you have a fight or something?”
“No.”
Bethany suppressed a sigh and took the glass back again for another sip. “You know, neither of those parts of the country are all that far from here. Why don’t you go see one of your brothers, if you miss them so much? Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?”
“Nope. Got one. To Mikhail’s wedding. I didn’t go.” He got up and fetched another tumbler from the kitchen and poured the last of the bottle into it. Lulu heaved herself off the couch with a noticeable effort and settled down by his feet with a sigh.
“You didn’t go to your brother’s wedding?” Bethany said, a little taken aback. “Why not?”
“Just wasn’t going to be good company. Kind of like now,” Alexei said pointedly.
“Huh. You underestimate your own charm,” Bethany said, only half joking. “I think you’re perfectly good company.”
“Yes, but you usually hang around with your father,” Alexei pointed out. “The bar is set very low.”
Bethany bit back a laugh. He wasn’t wrong. “Maybe so, but I’m guessing your brothers would still rather see you than not, even if you’re doing your whole gloomy drunken Russian thing.”
“I am not drunk,” he said, not disputing the rest of her statement. “And I do not believe they would want to see me. I did them a great wrong. I do not deserve the honor of their company.” He downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp.
Bethany winced in sympathy, although it didn’t seem to bother him at all. “I don’t know what you did, or think you did, and I realize that I haven’t known you for long, but for all your rough ways, I’ve never seen you do anything I’d consider dishonorable. Besides the pool shark thing, maybe, and even then, anyone who was paying attention could have seen how good you were at the game. But you’re kind to an old man who is hurting, and you’re gentle with Lulu, and you kept a woman from being taken advantage of by a predator who meant her harm.”
She thought carefully before she said her next words, knowing she was overstepping the bounds of their tenuous friendship, but hating to see him in so much pain.
“Have you considered asking your brothers if they want to see you? They might just surprise you.”
There was a moment of silence when she almost thought Alexei would either kick her out or start packing his bags. Then he reached out and took back the glass she’d snitched from him.
“Maybe I’m not ready to see them,” he said. “And you are wrong - you don’t know me at all. If you did, you probably wouldn’t be sitting here.”
Bethany gave him a crooked smile. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve always had a weakness for bad boys with hardly any clothes on.”
Then she watched in satisfaction as he choked on his whiskey.
Chapter 11
“Here,” Hayreddin said to Len. He pointed at the tavern. “There is a pirate hook right on the sign, and it is called The Hook and Anchor. Clearly this is a good place to look for men to hire for our ship.”
Len rolled his eyes in a way Red found particularly annoying. Not that there was anything about his new partner he did not find annoying. Even his mode of transport was foul smelling and belched, although apparently that was the way of things in this modern world. Red was finding the Otherworld more appealing by the minute. As soon as he found and retrieved his final treasure, he would happily return to his cave and never cross the borders again.
“It’s just a sign. Probably something to attract the tourists,” Len said, peering in the window. “On the other hand, this is definitely not a tourist bar. Lots of locals in there. So maybe you’re right.”
And maybe you should start with that assumption, Red thought. But he didn’t bother to say it out loud. Instead, he just shoved by Len and led the way into the tavern.
Once inside, they sat at the well-worn but gleaming bar. An attractive red-haired wench in the unbecoming man’s clothing that seemed to be the fashion these days served them their beer and then left them alone. Red pulled out his pipe.
“You can’t smoke that in here,” Len hissed. “It’s against the law.”
“There is a law against pipe smoking?” Red said in amazement. Apparently the entire Human world had gone insane while he s
lept in his cave.
“Any kind of smoking in a public place,” Len said. “It’s not just cigarettes. Where have you been, France or something?”
Red sighed, wafting away stray wisps of smoke (a hazard with dragons) and wishing he could light his pipe to disguise them. Fortunately, the tavern was dark enough that no one seemed to notice. “Or something,” he said. “Now, let us be subtle, and observe those who patronize this place to see if there are any likely fellows looking to hire on for adventure and glory.”
Len rolled his eyes again, and Red had to resist the urge to rip them out of his useless skull.
“How about that guy?” Len asked, pointing across the room in an manner directly the opposite of subtle. “He looks like he could take on an entire ship all by himself, even without the help of our mythical friend.”
Red swatted Len’s hand down and gazed at the man who had caught his attention. Red had to admit, the fellow looked like a reasonable prospect. He was huge - bigger by far than any others in the place - and it appeared to be muscle and not fat. He wore his brown hair long, and his beard was neat. He lacked the earrings of a proper pirate, but Red could see the hint of a tattoo at the edge of his shirt. The man sat by himself, carving what looked like a table leg with a wickedly sharp knife.
He definitely had the look of a rough man who could handle himself in a fight, but there was something about him that made Red hesitate to approach him. Something almost…familiar.
But Red couldn’t figure out why until the slim blonde woman entered the tavern and sat down beside his quarry.
A Baba Yaga! What in the name of the dragon goddess was a Baba Yaga doing here? Now he knew where he had seen the man before. That was no Human. It was the Black Rider, what was his name? Alexei Knight, that was it. A Baba Yaga and a Rider here. That could be no coincidence.
Dangerously Fierce (The Broken Riders Book 3) Page 11