Deadmen Walking

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Deadmen Walking Page 14

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  Nothing made sense in this world.

  But at least she appeared to be healed now. Grateful that Duel had kept his word, she pushed herself up and went to see where they were.

  As she reached the upper deck, Mara expected them to still be at sea.

  Instead, they were docked on an island, and she’d slept through most of the day. The sun hung low in the sky, casting shadows across the palms and greenery, while fishermen, merchants, sailors, and those inclined to less than legal means of support scurried about their business on the docks.

  But the most curious of all had been left aboard her own ship, while the others appeared to have taken a short liberty ashore. Mara scowled at the two inseparable humans who were working on swabbing the deck. Though to be honest, they were far more engrossed in swapping insults than completing their assigned task.

  Jake Devereaux and Blake Landrey. Rugged and tough, they were opposite in every way. One tall, the other short. One plump, the other emaciated. One fair and the other darker than sin. Yet they were best mates and forever fighting over every little thing. She’d never seen anything quite like them.

  “Would you stop with the shifting the bucket while I be mopping, Jake? What’s wrong with you, man?”

  “Me? Ye be the idiot what’s moving it!”

  Hinder Desai, who’d also been left behind to referee the two—lucky him for that punishment—let out an exasperated sigh as he raked his hand across his face and met Mara’s gaze. “Can I be killing them, mum? You think the captain would notice it?”

  She laughed at his dire tone. “Probably. Where are we, Mr. Desai?”

  He wiped at the sweat on his forehead, then pushed back his black hair before he answered. “Tortuga. We pulled in about two hours ago to make repairs. How are you feeling, mum?”

  “Much better. Thank you.”

  “Good. Do you need me to fetch anyone for you?”

  She considered it. “Are most of the crew on board or on shore?”

  “Shore, mum.”

  As she figured, then. “Thank you, Mr. Desai.”

  “Pleasure, mum.”

  She wandered away as she considered his disclosure. It wasn’t like Du to clear the ship completely. What could he have been thinking?

  Lost in thought, she collided with Kalder, who came out of nowhere to catch her against his lean, hard body. She gasped in startled alarm.

  “You all right?” he asked quickly as he righted her.

  “Aye. Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

  “It’s all good. Captain told me to stay behind and keep an eye on you. Not get in your way. Least I accomplished half my mission.”

  She laughed. “Where is he?”

  “Chasing demons.”

  Her chest tightened. “Was he fit for it?”

  “Didn’t think it my place to question him, as I didn’t want my throat handed to me.”

  She bit back a curse. “Where did he go?”

  “That way.” He pointed toward the gangway.

  She gave him a droll, irritated glare at the obvious answer, since that was the only way to leave the ship and it gave her no clue as to which way Duel had traveled once he’d reached shore. “Really?”

  He shrugged teasingly.

  “You know if the captain dies, Mr. Dupree, I go with him to the grave.”

  “That would really be a bad day for those of us standing on the ship. Especially if we’re out to sea when it happens.” Screwing up his face, he scratched at his neck. “Except for me, of course. Wouldn’t matter, as I breathe water. But I’d sure feel bad for the rest.”

  “Aye. ’Twould be bad for them, indeed.”

  “Shall we go find them, then?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Let’s.”

  Clearing his throat, he allowed her to lead the way. Mara wasn’t sure where to start. Tortuga wasn’t the most savory of places. Rather, it was a favored haunt of the derelicts of humanity and otherworldly beings who preyed on those sordid creatures. If ever someone sought a reason as to why a zombie apocalypse should be allowed and why humanity should root for their enemies to win, this place gave them cause for it.

  She pressed her hand to her nose and sought to breathe through her mouth so as not to gag on the unholy stench of it all. How anyone could stand to live here, she couldn’t imagine. Yet there were many who deemed this hellhole some kind of desired paradise. Jack Rackham. Anne Bonny. Blackbeard. Jean-Luc St. Noir. Even Rafael Santiago was known to frequent these shores with giddy delight.

  They were all mad, if you asked her.

  But as they searched the taverns, Mara and Kalder found no sign of Du. Only a number of their crew embroiled in things she’d have rather remained ignorant of.

  Especially when she found Bart in a full-on orgy with not one, or two, but three buxom maids.

  While the man’s dexterity and prowess impressed Kalder, it left her a bit piqued and embarrassed. And Bart seemed flustered as he scrambled for his pants.

  “Well, then…” Mara paused outside in the hallway of the brothel as they left Bart in the room to finish with his doxies. “I think we’ve run the course of the stews on the island.”

  “Aye to that.”

  And she was honestly grateful that they’d found no sign of Du in any of them. More grateful than she’d ever admit to out loud.

  But there had been no sign of Belle, William, Cameron, or Du anywhere at all. It was as if they’d vanished into thin air. She couldn’t imagine where they might be. “Any idea where to look for our missing members?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, mum.”

  And her guess was worthless.

  Although …

  She felt a peculiar pull. The kind she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Unsure about it, she allowed it to guide her down the stairs and back to the street, through the filthy town where she saw nothing redeeming about the place. Only absolute misery lived here. Along with the pox, neglected children, women in need of stern morals, men in need of lectures and decent role models, and poultry possessing some kind of feather-molting plague that ailed them.

  Even the cats and dogs seemed to have questionable virtues.

  She wandered aimlessly, wishing she were anywhere else.

  Until she reached the outer edges of the soiled, brightly painted buildings. Here, there was a pristine little white church. Well kept and inviting, with long, opened hurricane shutters. Yet by its isolated and lonely condition, it was obvious no one in this godforsaken place sought refuge for their immortal souls. Better-kept chickens ran freely around the building, along with three stray cows that grazed in the yard and several mud-covered pigs. Dried-out palm trees twisted around the building like skeletal guardians. It was strangely eerie.

  Yet it beckoned her closer.

  She had no idea why. Until she entered the building and stopped dead in her tracks at the absolute last thing she’d ever expected to find.

  Kalder was so stunned he actually slammed into her back.

  Gaping, she blinked, then blinked again, unable to trust her own eyesight as she stared in total stupefaction at what was in front of her.

  Du sat on the rear porch with a little girl in his lap, surrounded by a herd of children, reading a collection of Aesop’s Fables to them. Nay, not just reading to them, but reenacting the stories to the children while Belle made poppets for the girls and William carved soldiers for the boys. Cameron was helping some of the children dress their toys with spare rags from a box on the floor.

  Well, I’ll be …

  Du looked up and caught her gaping stare.

  The little girl in his lap pulled her thumb from her lips and scowled at Mara before she leaned back to stare up at Duel. “Is she an angel, Uncle Dubu?”

  “Nay, Lizzy. She’s another member of our ship. That be your aunt Mara.”

  “Oh. She looks just like them bootiful angels Father Jeffrey talks about.”

  He didn’t comment on that. Rather, he took a deep brea

th and closed his book. Then he gave a light hug to the girl in his lap. “Well, children, it appears I should be going.”

  They let out a loud sound of communal disappointment.

  “Don’t let me disturb you,” Mara hastened to assure them.

  “It’s all right. Their dinnertime approaches.”

  “Will you come again?” A young boy rose from beside the chair to pull at Du’s arm.

  Du brushed tenderly at the boy’s hair and smiled. “Of course, Robby. You know you’re my only reason for coming here.”

  The boy threw himself against Du with a giddy yelp and hugged him before he rushed off.

  Du stood with the girl in his arms and carried her to an old priest who’d come forward from a side door that had been left ajar. She reluctantly allowed the older man to take her from Du’s arms while Belle and the others finished up their tasks.

  The priest, who must be Father Jeffrey, thanked Du for his reading and promised the girl that Du would come again, as was apparently his habit.

  Kalder moved to help Cameron while Mara went to retrieve the book from where Du had left it in the whitewashed chair. It was one she recognized from Du’s private collection he kept in his cabin on board the ship.

  Now that she thought about it, he’d always been strangely studious … as far back as she could recall. There had never been a night he didn’t read at least an hour before going to sleep or a morning that didn’t begin with an hour of quiet study time.

  Even before Vine had joined them, he used to travel to monasteries to barter for books. Ofttimes they’d rebuffed him entirely for his pagan ways, or tried to convert him before allowing him to look through their collections. Several times he’d almost been killed by the Romans as he sought scrolls from them.

  Yet it’d never deterred him from seeking their knowledge. He’d even haunted the Cornish docks where foreign merchants would come to trade, asking if they had any manuscripts or scrolls he could purchase.

  It was as if knowledge and books were as much nourishment to him as food.

  Suddenly, his shadow fell over her. Looking up, she caught the haunted ghosts that resided deep inside his soul, and for the first time, she was curious about them. Curious about him. “What made you love the written word so?”

  “My grandfather. He always said that education is an ornament in prosperity and a refuge during adversity. And that a learned mind is the only wealth worth hoarding, as it is the sole treasure that can never be stolen.”

  “Yet you were a ruthless barbarian?”

  “Even a scholar has to eat.”

  She glanced back to where the children were smiling and playing. “How is it that in all the years we’ve been together I missed seeing this more tender side of you?”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “People make their own realities. They paint the truth as they want it to be, regardless of fact. For those who want to believe, no proof is ever required. For those who refuse to believe, no proof is ever enough. And so you see me as nothing more than the monster you first met. I can never be anything else in your eyes. It’s a fact I’ve long accepted.”

  He was a lot wiser than she’d ever given him credit for. And yet she shouldn’t be surprised. Not really. It took more than sheer strength to win the wars he’d fought. He had been cunning in the face of far greater numbers. His shrewdness had been remarked upon and admired by his enemies and allies every bit as much as his stamina and sword skills.

  Nay, he’d never really been the mindless animal she’d accused him of being. However, this was a role that she’d never seen him in.

  Doting and kind.

  And it was one that did the strangest things to her breathing. Made her feel a peculiar kind of weepiness she’d never known before.

  “How long have you been coming here?”

  “Since Thorn freed us and Rafe told me it existed. His mother taught here. This orphanage and church were her pet charity.” He jerked his chin toward the door. “It’s why it’s named St. Rafael’s. His father built and donated it for his mother, and she named it for her son … with the church’s blessing.”

  “And you volunteer time here?”

  “He gives a lot more than that.” Father Jeffrey came forward with a small stack of papers for Du. “The children wanted me to make sure I handed you their thank-you letters, Captain. With what you and Captain Cross donated, we should have the girls’ dormitory finished by winter.”

  “Glad to help.” He took the letters and inclined his head to Mara. “Father Jeffrey, may I present Lady Marcelina?”

  “My lady, it’s an honor.”

  “The honor’s mine, Father.”

  With a quick bow, he cleared his throat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d best be seeing about that dinner. The wee ones get a mite frisky if they’re not fed on time.”

  Du smirked. “Believe me, I understand. The big ones are much the same.”

  Laughing, the father left them.

  Mara scowled at Du. “Why do you always do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Introduce me as a lady?”

  “Would you rather I introduce you as a trollop?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nay, but you know I’m not a lady.”

  “And you’re not exactly common, either.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrowed her gaze on him. “You’re avoiding the answer, Dón-Dueli.”

  Devyl paused to let out a long, tired breath as he considered a complicated response. “What do you want me to say, Mara? I’m a bastard beast who plucked you from your forest and your species. I know full well what you really are, and therefore I refuse to see you treated as anything less.”

  “And what am I?”

  “A goddess.”

  Mara’s jaw dropped as he walked nonchalantly past her after lobbing a cannonball at her.

  Had that been a compliment?

  From the evil Dón-Dueli?

  Unable to believe it, she watched as he went to help Belle and Cameron gather their things to return to the ship.

  “Are you the captain’s pretty lady?”

  She turned at the high-pitched voice to see a beautiful blond-haired girl behind her. “Nay, child. I’m just a friend to him.”

  “Oh. But he seems to like you a great deal.”

  “You think so?”

  “Aye.” The girl smiled as she rocked back and forth on her feet. “You’re very beautiful, my lady.”

  “Thank you, child.”

  The girl twisted her finger in her hair as she glanced over to the others. “Might I ask a favor of you?”

  “Of course.”

  “I lost my poppet in the woods outside. Would you please help me find her?”

  “Sure.”

  Smiling, the girl led her toward the door.

  *   *   *

  A peculiar chill went down Devyl’s spine as he stopped to look about the room for Mara. She was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Mara?”

  Belle paused to glance around the church. “She was just here.”

  His gaze went to Cameron as a streak of white appeared in her chestnut hair. Even though Thorn had yet to return her medallion, her blood was reacting to the same thing he felt in his bones. There was something here that didn’t belong in this realm.

  A douen.

  Shite …

  “Fan out and find her. Belle, keep an eye on our Miss Jack.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  While William, Kalder, and Belle began to search, he took a moment to warn the priest to secure the children within the confines of the church. If it was a douen, they were bad to go after the souls of the innocent, and children in particular. No doubt that was what had brought the demon here originally. They would normally find any child they could and lead him or her off so that they could either possess them or kill them.

  Wary, he made his way into the underbrush to search. He knew better than to call out for Mara, as that would strengthen the demon’s
power over her. Damn them. They were crafty beasts. Some of the most dangerous. They preyed on people’s kindness. Preyed on their sympathy.

  And Mara held far too much of both, in spite of her Deruvian blood.

  Little wonder the douen had found her. On this island, compassion was in short supply. Hers would have stood out like a beacon to draw the demon straight to her kind heart.

  “Come on, you bugger.” He was thirsty and in need of nourishment. It’d been a long time since he made a meal off something as powerful as a douen. It’d do his own powers good to feast on this bastard’s heart.

  Provided it didn’t kill Mara first and end him in the process.

  Where would it have taken her? Not like it could kill her in the open. Or maybe it could. These bastards were more brazen than most. It was what made them so dangerous.

  Devyl went deeper into the thicket, where the overgrowth was so dense it was hard to see much. Even daylight.

  Suddenly, he heard a rustle near him.

  Turning, he summoned philosopher’s fire into his fist. And moved in for the attack.

  “Halt!”

  He barely caught the release before he unleashed the flames over the newcomers. “Dammit, Alabama! Rafe! You almost lost your heads! What are you doing here?”

  “Kalder said our lady had been taken. We’re here to help you hunt.” Alabama was one of Devyl’s gunners. A large, beefy member of their crew, he’d belonged to the Choctaw nation before his death and recruitment to the Hellchasers by Thorn. Like Rosie, he wore feathers braided into his long, black hair, and a bone and beaded choker. “I take it you haven’t found her?”

  “Nay. Can you track them?”

  Alabama shook his head.

  Devyl cursed. Out of the three of them, someone should have been able to pick up something. For them to have nothing at all …

  Then he felt it.

  “This way!” He ran through the brush as fast as he could. Birds scattered at his reckless pace.

  At the end of the path, the trees broke to a clearing. And not just any clearing—there appeared to be a hole in the very earth. One that dropped straight down to what seemed to be hell itself. Devyl barely caught himself before he fell into it.

 
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