“I will,” she said. “It's easier now we're away from that place. I can breathe again.”
“I now how that feels.” Mercy took a sandwich, heading inside with it. Nadine placed the tray on a bench, dropping down beside it. I followed without question, joining her. My hand moved of its own accord, sliding into her hair, keeping it from blowing around her face as she ate.
Her cheeks coloured a touch, which made my insides shrivel. I was forcibly being turned into a manwhore. Which was ironic, considering I'd done this to women by choice for so many years. God, I was an arsehole. And it was just typical that the first girl I'd decided to straighten myself out for had been stolen from me. Probably deserved it. I was getting a very backwards taste of my own medicine.
“You know...Ulvic's been talking about us pair-bonding. He mentioned it this morning.” Nadine was a go-getter. She had always wanted a mate to settle down with. And her sights had been set on me for Lord-only-knew how long. As much as I'd hoped she might bat off my advances, I knew that wasn't gonna happen. So I was gonna have to get seriously inventive if I wanted to hold this relationship at bay.
But how the crap was I gonna do that?
“Yeah, I reckon he might be right,” said my mouth. My goddamn traitor of a mouth.
She batted her lashes, her eyes widening. “You do?” she asked in surprise. It had been no secret that I wasn't interested in her. Nadine had put moves on me for years and I'd always kept her at arm's length. Not because she wasn't hot. She was like a Latino Jessica Alba for Christ's sake. I mean seriously, the girl had legs up to there, thighs that could crush a man's neck – and had on more than one occasion – and big pouty lips at the centre of that shoulda-been-a-movie-star face. But she was much more than a hot girl with big – er – aspirations. She wanted to start a family. She was looking for commitment. And I had never once, until very recently, shared that sentiment. But damn, I had always respected it. Enough so that I wouldn't have laid a hand on her even if she'd begged me to. Because I wasn't the kind of guy who could offer her what she wanted. And despite being an arsehole to 99.9% of the female population, I never hurt the people I loved. Not on purpose anyway...
But Nadine was searching for the real deal, and now she was going to believe, hook, line and sinker, that I was it.
My face did not, in any way at all represent my inner feelings on this matter. I was smiling dreamily at her, with my come-to-bed eyes in place- which had gotten me laid more times in my life than I could count.
“So you think we should make a go of it?” Nadine asked.
“I do think that.” I didn't think that.
I took her hand, bringing it to my mouth. Fight harder, bro. “We need to keep the pack going. It's what matters most now.” It wasn't what mattered most now. Actually, I wanted to break the effing pack. Specifically, I wanted to murder the pack leader. Once we were all safe, I didn't plan on returning to Ulvic's island and singing kumbaya around a campfire whilst Nadine and I planned our first cub. I was going to run, swim and goddamn paraglide my way back to Cass if that's what it took.
Oh good god no. I was leaning in for a kiss. Nadine was tilting up her chin, pouty lips poutier than ever.
“Got any more sandwiches?” Mercy appeared, saving my arse.
Nadine turned away and I offered the plate to Mercy, the smile falling from my face. My arm slithered treacherously around Nadine's shoulders, holding her close.
Come on, dude. Fight back.
Ulvic stepped out of the cabin and heat spilled through my veins. Dead man walking.
“We'll be docking soon.”
Mercy edged closer to Ulvic, the gun strapped to her hip a constant warning. But I wondered if she really would take a shot at him if he ordered us to do something crazy.
“And where are we going exactly?” I drawled. One thing Ulvic hadn't commanded away, was my attitude toward him. Ha.
“To my home.” He looked nervous, his eyes flitting out toward the dark mass of land on the horizon. “I've not been there since...well, a lifetime ago.”
“Since you ran away from home and decided to round up Werewolves for a hobby?” I supplied. “Making your Hunter father absolutely hate you? Gosh, it must be hard having everyone hate you.”
“Jameson,” Ulvic growled in a warning tone.
“Maybe if you tried not being such an arsehole?” I turned to Nadine. “Has he tried that?” Then to Mercy. “Do you know if he's tried not being such an arsehole?”
“James,” Nadine said quietly. “Don't.”
“Oh I think Ulvic's done quite enough damage to me, Dina. I'm really not sure what else he could make me do that'd upset me.” I rounded on Ulvic, raising both brows, daring him to contradict me.
“If you can't be civil, I'll command you to keep your lips sealed for the remainder of this mission,” Ulvic hissed.
I suddenly saw a very enticing way out of my ordeal with Nadine. If I couldn't talk. I couldn't flirt.
“Be my guest.” I glared at him, daring him to do it.
His gaze slid to Nadine, then he smiled. “I don't think that will be necessary. Nice to see you two getting along so well, by the way.” He headed back into the cabin, leaving me speechless. Which was ironic, all things considered.
“Don't let him get under your skin,” Mercy said. “I think he actually means well.”
“He doesn't mean well,” I snarled. “You don't know him.”
“He saved me from Øyafrelse,” Mercy protested.
“Yeah, he likes to show up for people sometimes. I reckon it's 'cause that makes them indebted to him. Now you owe him something. And he'll come asking for it, Baby H, don't you doubt that.”
Mercy eyed me for a moment before turning to Nadine. “Come on, I think Teen Wolf needs a timeout.”
Nadine rose to her feet, laughing as she followed Mercy inside. I relaxed at last, leaning back on the bench, polishing off the remainder of the sandwiches one by one. I was a nervous eater. Which meant I'd probably put on a hundred pounds before this trip was over.
I hope you like 'em chubby, Firefly.
I gazed out at the ocean, finding peace in the frothing waves. The sea was a place I'd always felt at home. But I recalled the final day before my pirate life had changed, before I'd searched for immortality with a persistence that had nearly driven my crew mad. All in the name of friendship, I suppose.
Ireland, 1804
The Pirate Queen, Kaitlin, held more than just my heart in her fist. Every time I met with Varick's friend, I wanted a piece of her. Strangely, she didn't occupy any of my head space unless I was in her vicinity. For years, I'd held off on trying to get her into my bed, on Varick's command. And I couldn't really blame him considering my reputation with women. She was like a sister to Varick, and my loyalty to him definitely meant more than a mere fancy.
We were heading to her castle on the west coast of Ireland. The bay was the perfect place to house a group of pirates. Despite the fact her 'castle' was nothing more than a single tower, standing sentinel on the edge of the pebble shore. Ugly as sin, but I wasn't gonna complain. There was only one way into that bay, and one way out. So if Kaitlin ordered it, we'd be blown out of the water on sight.
Thankfully for us, Varick's family ties with the girl meant we were not only allowed to lay anchor in the bay, but were welcomed into her small stronghold for the night.
Inside, we were greeted by a golden cannon, with emeralds shaped as shamrocks inlaid in the rim.
Varick walked at Kaitlin's side and I tried to keep my eyes above her waist. I really tried.
There were plenty of other women in Kaitlin's home, but she was my ideal in terms of her looks. Her long red curls hung down her spine, her waist tapering in before curving out into full hips.
Off limits. Off limits. Off limits.
Pud clung to my side. He was barely thirteen, had a pathetic wisp of facial hair and string-bean arms that would have been no good in fight. But he'd been allowed to join our crew after c
aptivating us all with wild tales of the world. Varick wasn't a fan of his. He didn't believe in folklore and legends. But I did. I lapped up Pud's stories like fresh water.
Kaitlin led Varick upstairs with some of the crew, but I remained downstairs with Pud, steering him through the wooden tables toward a jug of ale on the far side of the room.
A brunette in men's clothing was standing beside it, pouring herself a tankard. She turned, her gaze scanning up and down me before she walked by. I cast an eye over my shoulder, catching her looking back at me, a smirk taking shape on my face.
Pud tugged my sleeve and I was dragged back to my senses, picking up the jug and pouring us two tankards. I passed him one and he grinned eagerly, gulping some down.
“Easy, brother,” I said as he coughed and spluttered on it.
I took a swig of my own before dropping down onto a wooden chair where some of my crewmen had gathered. They were a grisly lot. Hair sprouting from beneath unclean shirts, sweat patches growing under their arms. I took a bit more care in my appearance. They called me vain for it. But if washing myself daily and brushing my hair meant I was vain, then so be it.
Pud copied me, clothes, braided hair, even that wisp of a beard was definitely an attempt at my roguish stubble. But I didn't mind. I liked being admired. Being mimicked was the highest form of a compliment in my books.
“Tell us about the Mermaids, Pud,” Jessops asked him. Ex-slave. Six foot eight with a left swing that could cleave a man in two. He'd asked to join our crew after we'd pillaged a slave trader and released the 'chattel'.
“Mermaids are dull,” Crawley slurred. Drunk already. Typical. Man drank like a fish and still couldn't hold his liquor. “Tell us 'bout the Werewolves.”
I sat up straighter. They were my personal favourite, too. I looked to Pud and he lifted his chin, practically bursting with pride at having my full attention.
“I saw 'em once,” Pud said, lowering his tone dramatically. He usually started his stories like that. I mean, sure, I loved how he spun a tale. But I doubted the kid had seen a single one of his creatures in real life. I liked the pretence, though. I liked to imagine there were such beings out there. I especially devoured the idea of Immortality. I loved life with all my heart and the idea of growing old and being unable sail the world was about the most terrifying fate I could imagine.
Pud continued, “The wolf people are a fierce kind. They turn into wolves at will, rip men and women to pieces, devouring every bit of them, all but their bones.”
I leant in closer, sipping my drink as Pud went on.
“I saw 'em devour a whole town once, under the light of the full moon. They turned, six of them, men, women and children, a whole pack of them. Then they tore the town apart. They're bigger than normal wolves, one of them was nearly the size of a horse!”
“Bullshit,” Crawley muttered.
“I ain't lyin'!” Pud complained. “I saw 'em with my own eyes.”
“Kid, you never even left England before we picked you up.” Jessops threw his head back on a laugh. “When exactly did you see all these monsters?”
“Shh,” I hushed him harshly. “Go on, Pud.”
Pud's eyes glazed as if in memory. Alright, so I was pretty sure he hadn't seen any of this shit. But someone had told him these stories, and I reckoned they had a grain of truth to them. Even if that was just wishful thinking.
“They're immortal, the wolves. All of forever they live in their packs, roaming the world, living a free life for all eternity.”
“Why do they eat people?” Crawley folded his arms, taking another sip of his ale.
“Well...they're hungry I suppose,” Pud answered.
“But if they ain't always wolves, why don't they eat normal food when they're human?” Crawley had a point.
Pud opened and closed his mouth, but before he could answer, the door to the castle flew open.
Three shadows flew into the room, knocking tables flying. Screams rang out. Someone fired a gun.
I stood in alarm, snatching the Flintlock from my waistband, trying to find an enemy to aim at. My heart rate ratcheted up. Maybe I was drunker than I thought, because the swirls of movement that were knocking full-grown men to the floor didn't seem to have any shape at all.
One of the blurs came toward me and I fired my gun at it, stumbling backwards and knocking over my chair. Someone cried out in pain as my bullet buried itself in one of Kaitlin's men.
The blur halted abruptly before me and I came face to face with the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. Not that I was into men. But if I had been, this guy would have been first on my to-do list.
He held me in his gaze as he spoke in a deep voice. “Calm.”
I felt peace float into my chest, lulling my frantic heartbeat. I smiled dreamily at him, taking in his dark curls and sharp features. He was a God and he had me totally, entirely in his fist.
“Where's Varick Cartwright?” he asked, stepping closer.
I spotted Pud lunge at him, but the ethereal man knocked him aside with barely a glance of his elbow.
“Varick...” I tried to bite down on my tongue, a small voice in the back of my mind demanding I keep this fact a secret. Varick was my best friend, my captain. I wasn't going to give him up. And yet the will of this man seemed to take the place of my own, forcing the words from my mouth in a relaxed tone. “Upstairs...with Kaitlin.”
Pud gasped. Jessops lunged at the man holding me in his sights, but he vanished in a blur of movement. “Upstairs!” his voice filled the room and the other darting shadows followed him up the rickety wooden staircase which circled up the towering walls around us.
“Why did you tell him?!” Jessops grabbed my throat.
I forced his arm away, shaking my head. He hadn't really tried to hurt me. I was the first mate on our ship; hurting me was an insult to our code of conduct.
“He possessed me,” I murmured, my thoughts still realigning.
“Vampires,” Pud gasped, scrambling to his feet.
“Not possible,” Jessops gasped.
Dread spilled through my gut as a clatter sounded upstairs. “We need to get to Varick!” I charged through the room, heading to the stairs, stashing my gun and replacing it with my sword. Silver plated and bloody beautiful. I'd stolen it off a Spanish officer. And seeing as my bullets had been useless against that demon -Vampire? - I was going to try a different tactic.
“Varick!?” I shouted as I reached the first floor, the floorboards creaking underfoot.
I heard a woman's voice from a room across the hall and charged inside, ramming the door open with my shoulder.
Varick was slumped on the floor at the feet of an ebony-haired woman in a revealing black dress. She scooped him up, turning to me and I cried out at the strange sight. How was she so strong?
I slashed my sword at her and she lurched backwards at speed. I was quick enough to slice a blow across her arm and triumph darted through me.
“Enough!” she cried and I fell into her incredible eyes, my arms going limp at my sides.
“Drop it,” she commanded and my hand released the sword so it clattered to the floor.
“Your friend will not be harmed. He will soon be one of us.”
I dropped my eyes to Varick. He was so still. So pale. My heart thumped out of tune.
“What is your name?” The woman stepped closer, not seeming to struggle with the weight of Varick's body one bit.
“Jameson Fairfax,” I replied immediately.
“To land a blow on a Vampire is quite a feat.” She gestured to the blood trickling from her arm.
I nodded vaguely.
She moved closer, tilting her head to examine me. “I suspect you will do great things one day, Jameson Fairfax...” With a rush of air that ruffled my hair, she was gone, taking my best friend with her and releasing me from her charm. I gasped, resting my hands on my knees as I regained my free will.
One thing I knew for sure: I'd hunt Varick to the ends of the earth.
I'm coming for you, brother.
Cass
I made a plan. The only one I really could make. The moment I was unshackled, I'd run, attack, and damn well battle my way out of this place.
Except that didn't happen.
My nurse, Rakefield, arrived with a team of men dressed in black to escort me. My hands were kept bound and I was given a pale, pink dressing gown to wear. My bare feet padded across the cool floorboards as we moved. The horrendous scar on my chest was gone. Which I supposed meant the Larkspur had had an effect on me. Which also meant that what Rakefield had said was probably true. I was now a 'hybrid' of a Werewolf and a Vampire. Jesus, I'd only just been getting used to being a V. Now I probably had a whole bunch of new traits to get used to.
The corridor was narrow and the doors had circular windows. I caught sight of other patients beyond them, but was escorted too fast to get a proper glimpse of anyone.
“I want to see my friends,” I demanded, then added. “The ones you haven't already murdered, that is.”
Rakefield glanced over her shoulder, a clipboard in her hand. “Some of them survived their transformations. Others have not yet been assigned to projects. I'm afraid there are always casualties as a result of the evolution of science.”
“Lab rats maybe, but not people,” I hissed.
Rakefield laughed. “People?” she questioned. “You were dead, my dear. We've brought you back to life.”
“By shoving a new heart in me? You had no right.”
“Vampirism is a disease that reanimates dead bodies, makes them thirst for human blood. You are not the human you once were. And dead bodies have no rights.”
I was starting to take a serious disliking to my 'carer'. The grip on my arms was overly tight so I suspected the men around me weren't human.
“I want to see my friends,” I insisted.
Rakefield ignored me, guiding me down another long corridor.
I started to feel dizzy and blinked away the fog descending on my mind. My legs grew wobbly and I stumbled more than once.
“I don't feel so good...”
Wolf Games (The Vampire Games Book 4) Page 6