Death Doesn't Bargain

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Death Doesn't Bargain Page 9

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a tender kiss to her knuckles with a savoring longing that brought an ache to her chest. “Don’t alienate him, me phearse. Not for the sorry likes of me or anyone else. Take it from someone who’s lost and buried every member of his family. Blood means something, and is particularly precious once it’s gone. What you two share is far more special. He is your brother, lass. Better or worse, and all infighting included. This anger between you will pass. Don’t trade the solid foundations of the past with him for a future with me that is likely to destroy us both. I have nothing to offer you, but your brother is a good man. He has a home and a business waiting for you in Williamsburg. I have nothing but the ragged clothes on me back and the hammock below, where I sleep.”

  And with those words spoken, he let go and walked away.

  Tears swam in her eyes and choked her as she watched him go. Part of her begged her to run after him and to tell him that none of that mattered. She’d been raised with nothing more than a cold tick mattress in the drafty attic room of the Black Swan Inn in Williamsburg. She wasn’t used to finery or better things.

  Yet “used to” something didn’t mean that she liked it. While she could live that way, she didn’t want to live like that. Not anymore. And she damn sure didn’t want to raise her children the way she and Paden had been raised.

  Hand to mouth. Watching every farthing. Saving every rag. Praying to hold on for one more day. And to live in fear of dying and leaving her babes as orphans the way she’d been left with Paden.

  Nay, she wanted to ensure her children had a decent life. A happy home and full bellies. With someone who could watch over them should something happen to her and their da. Give them plenty to sup on, and an actual wardrobe of clothes—at least three dresses for the girls, and three suits for the boys. Proper clothes that weren’t frayed and patched at the knees and elbows. Coats not made of old blankets or donated rags.

  Two pairs of shoes, and two pairs of stockings. One of cotton for daily wear, and one of fine silk for church.

  That was her dream.

  She saw it all so clearly. In fine details that were etched along in her mind, cast from years of bitter misery and hunger. Mockery and abuse. Of aching for things she couldn’t have, and of doing without.

  As the ship’s striker, Kalder didn’t make the kind of money she needed for that life. And he was right, this was no place to raise a family. Constant danger. Unpredictable weather.

  She wanted solid ground beneath her feet, and he was a creature of the sea. It would be unfair to ask him to give up what he was.

  A mermaid.

  He had to have water in order to live and stay healthy. It was required for his species that he have water the way she needed air to breathe. Which made her wonder, what kind of children would they produce?

  Tadpoles?

  Minnows?

  The very thought chilled her as she realized just how little she understood about him and his people.

  You are a fool, Cameron Jack. There is no hope for anything with Mr. Dupree.

  “Cameron?”

  The sound of her brother’s voice rattled her to her bones and set her fury off to an even higher level. “Don’t even start, Paden. Mood I’m in, I’m likely to deck you where you stand.” She raked him with a hostile glare. “Or worse … gut you with me rusted spoon. So I warn you now not to tempt the beast within me that’s salivating to use you for the scapegoat of me current distemper. Best you run, big brother … run fast. Run hard. Run long.”

  * * *

  “Prince Kalderan?”

  Coming out of a sound sleep while he lay curled in his swaying hammock, Kalder froze at the whispered voice in his head. At first he thought it a dream. Or a noise conjured by the creaking sounds of the ship.

  Until he heard it again. Only louder this time.

  Clearer.

  A voice from the past he hadn’t heard in so long that it took him several heartbeats to realize it wasn’t his imagination. Or some strangeness coughed up from the bowels of his mind.

  It was real.

  His heart picked up its pace as he threw his covers back from his body, and checked to see that his brother was still slumbering in the bunk beside him. As were most of the crew. Equally asleep, they lay in their bunks and hammocks while the ship swayed quietly on the waves in the wee hours of the night. Only a handful of them were up and about. On watch duty at this hour, they would be scattered about the ship, doing various chores.

  Yet he knew he wasn’t alone in the darkness of this cramped space. The presence was there and it was demanding.

  Licking his lips, Kalder slid out of his hammock and snuck up to the deck to follow … well, honestly he wasn’t sure what was pulling him toward the port stern. Just a strange sensation in his gut that wouldn’t be denied.

  One that lured him toward that presence he kept telling himself couldn’t be real.

  It just couldn’t be.

  That was his thought until he reached the wooden railing and peered over the side into the dark waters that sloshed against the boat. There in the bright moonlight he saw that which stunned him most of all. A shining glimmer of a form bobbing about that he’d never thought to see again.

  “Chthamalus?”

  Barely discernible in the inky night waves, the old sea demon grinned up with golden fangs. The color of cold, dark seawater blue, he was a peculiar sight to any who didn’t know his breed. Part squid, part barnacle, part humanoid, the Barnaks could shapeshift to blend in with humanity. At least temporarily. Longer if they “preyed” on humans. The only way to tell one of their breed, even in human form, was by the unholy light blue luminescence in their eyes that would shine whenever something bright reflected against their pupils. Otherwise, they were beautiful perfection.

  But in this form …

  Hideous fishlike ghouls not even their mothers could stand to look upon. And yet Kalder had never seen a more beautiful vision—except for Cameron.

  Aye, Chthamalus Morro was a sight for sore eyes. Even if his face did look like a dried puffer fish’s head stretched tight over a shrunken skull and his ears had more in common with a starfish than a human. He’d take it.

  “What are you doing here?”

  With his mouth twisted down into a perpetual grimace, Chthamalus breathed from the gills in his neck. “I heard that you had been reborn and were back alive. My place is at your side, my lord. As I vowed to you once. So here I am to serve you as I should and as you need.”

  That solemn oath of loyalty touched him a lot deeper than it should have. Leave it to his old friend to track him down, even all these centuries later. “I can’t accept your oath, Tally. I freed you from the service me father demanded of you. You know that.” All of Chthamalus’s species had been held in bondage as guardians for their royal family. It’d been something his father had decreed after he’d conquered them.

  But Kalder had never believed in holding any species as slaves.

  Not that it’d mattered. Within moments of Kalder’s birth, Chthamalus had been impressed to serve as his guardian and teacher. A task the lunatic had taken to with zeal—like an old mother hen possessed by the devil. He’d all but sat upon him to hatch.

  So the two of them had spent years tussling back and forth for some form of freedom. Tussles Kalder had lost more times than he’d ever won.

  “And I have missed you, my lord. Wyñeria isn’t the same without you. Indeed, it’s terribly boring. Oppressive. Depressive. Disgusting, truly.”

  He scoffed at those words. “Given that it failed as a civilization centuries ago and me people are all dead, I can well imagine that.”

  “Nay, Highness. Not dead … Hidden.”

  Kalder scowled. “What?”

  “’Tis true. King Varice veiled the kingdom after you and Prince Muerig were slain.” Tally rose from the waves to slither up the side of the ship so that he could be nearer Kalder’s position. He cupped the edges of the railing with his we

bbed hands so that he could peer around the deck. Then, he looked to the waters below as if fearful of being overheard by something more than the earless water.

  Peculiar actions for a fearless creature.

  “He’s put a price upon your life, Your Highness. He fears you’ll return and take the kingdom from him.”

  Stunned over such ludicrous paranoia, Kalder stared at the demon for several seconds. When he could finally gather his ability to answer that, it was a resounding “What?”

  He nodded. “On your return to the living, the veil opened. The king believes you’re the one who did it, so that you can invade your homeland and take his power as he did yours. He’s gathering his army for it. That’s how sure he is that you’re returning to take it back.”

  Kalder’s head reeled with this new information. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which part of it shocked him most. That his brother had called in dogs to hunt him down, that his brother had killed him, or that they still lived.

  It was all too much to handle.

  “Has he lost all reason?”

  “A good bit of it. Aye. Did you not hear what I said?”

  Leave it to Chthamalus to not understand his sarcasm. “And my mother? Does she live? What has she to say?”

  “She drives him to it. Feeds his madness with a frightful frenzy.”

  You should have guessed that. “Well, that’s awesome.”

  “Nay, Highness. ’Tis most foul.”

  Kalder rolled his eyes as he remembered that sarcasm was often lost on his old friend.

  “Hey, Kal? You all right?”

  Kalder turned at the sound of Bart’s deep voice as the man approached suddenly from below the deck.

  Tally dropped down under the railing, out of sight. “Friend or foe? Should I kill him for you, my lord?”

  Kalder took a moment to consider that. While Bart could be a surly bastard, he had no desire to clean his guts from the ship tonight. “Friendly foe.”

  Tally grimaced in confusion.

  “Don’t kill him.” Best to always clarify these things when dealing with a Barnak. While mostly unpredictable, the one thing anyone could trust in was their loyalty. A friend’s friend was always a friend.

  A friend’s enemy was quickly annihilated.

  And if anyone killed Bart, then Kalder wanted that privilege. He’d earned it for tolerating him this long.

  Sighing, he turned toward Bart. “Just visiting.”

  Bart scowled. “What? The privy? Please tell me you’re not pissing off the side of the boat. Captain will have an apoplexy if he catches that.”

  Kalder growled low in warning before he leaned down and offered Tally his hand. “It appears another friend of mine has washed up unexpectedly.” He didn’t bother to glance at his old mentor before he hauled him up easily so that Bart could catch sight of him. “Bartholomew Meers, meet Tally.”

  It wasn’t until he saw the gaping hunger in Bart’s eyes that a bad feeling went through him.

  Shite! Please tell me he didn’t …

  But he already knew to dread this. His stomach cramped with fear, he turned to find Chthamalus not in his Barnak form or that of a man.

  Nay, that would have been kind and merciful.

  Rather, Tally wore the skin of a beautiful mermaid. One as naked as the night was long. Worse?

  The instant Tally cleared the deck, Cameron drew up short behind Bart as she caught sight of the same nightmare that was currently scarring and scaring Kalder.

  And that was the fact that he was holding a butt-naked woman in his arms and it wasn’t Cameron.

  8

  Momentarily confused, Cameron stood in utter shock at the sight of the unbelievably beautiful, completely naked woman with Kalder. Long curly red hair coiled around a body that was about as perfect as any ever formed, and it left her feeling hideous in comparison. Truth be told, she wanted to slither down a hole and die rather than risk comparison and be found so lacking.

  Aye, there was no way for her to compete with a woman such as this. Or most any woman, for that matter. Even Aphrodite would have lost the apple to this woman!

  Especially given the fact that Kalder had yet to move away from the wench.

  I picked a perfect time to visit the privy.…

  Sputtering, Kalder gestured at the woman Bart was currently leering over. “It’s not what you be thinking, woman!”

  Obviously it was exactly what she be thinking, otherwise he wouldn’t be acting all so peculiar right this minute at having been caught in the midst of his inappropriate behavior, whatever said behavior was, and she had a mite good idea of what all that would have entailed had nature not come a-calling on her just then, and had she not ventured out here at this unholy time of night.

  The blighter had guilt written all over his handsome face and nervous twitterings and stammerings! Dang it to perdition that all men had to go and tell on themselves the way they did, what with their roving male eyes and protruding body parts! Faithless, every one of the bilge rats! She wanted to choke him for it!

  Disgusted with both of the cock-toting crew, Cameron did what they should have done with the poor wee bit of a lass when they’d fished her out of the cold, frigid sea. She whipped her own coat off and quickly wrapped it around the shivering girl.

  Rotten, lousy blighters! She should have known that at the end of the day, they were all alike! Selfish, lecherous little bastubles!

  “Don’t you be telling me what to think, Mr. Dupree. As I’ve had quite enough of that here lately, what with me brother on board, and all that rot.” She raked a furious glare over his body, which thankfully wasn’t protruding at the moment. No doubt only because of his guilt over having been caught. “And what I’m thinking is that the fair lot of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves, taking advantage of the wee one here, which you ought, so I’ve got every right to be thinking it, and I resent you telling me not to!”

  Growling at them both, she hugged the poor woman. “Come along, dearie. I’ll get you below with the others and we’ll take good and proper care of you, and get you warm and cozy before you catch a death chill. Men! I cannot believe they’d leave you out to freeze in your birthday britches what with no cares but for their own personal lechery. For shame to them! Hope they both catch a cold for it!”

  She continued to chide them as she escorted the woman as far away from them as fast as she could.

  Laughing out loud, Bart clapped Kalder on the back. “Be damned, mermaid! I haven’t heard the lass go off like that since her first night in our company. Thought we’d quelled her tongue, what with our wild and woolly ways. Leave it to you to find it again, and get it working in such a comical manner.”

  “Ah, shut it, Meers. I’m in no mood for you. Not now and not while this is going on. This is a terrible fix, truly!”

  Bart glanced about the deck in confusion. “This? What this is this you be talking about?”

  Kalder gestured after them. “That be a demon, and a general at that, she just took below with her to sleep in the women’s quarters.”

  All the humor fled from Bart’s face. “Demon?” He started toward Cameron’s path with a dark intent.

  Kalder cursed himself as he realized he’d only made it that much worse, as the man would no doubt kill Chthamalus if he caught up to him. He took him by the arm and held him fast to his side. “Nay, Bart. Still not what you’re thinking, mate! Stand fast, would you! Avast! You’re jumpier than a virgin in a whorehouse!”

  That at least caused him to stop and arch a brow. “And you are never so chatty either. What the hell has possessed your tongue to give it such flight?”

  The demon known as stupidity, apparently.

  And in spades.

  Honestly, he didn’t know where to begin unsorting this mess. It was gnarled beyond redemption and all common sense. Even uncommon sense, for that matter. His head ached just trying to begin to start sorting through it all.

  Which left Bart glaring after him, waiting for him to expl
ain.

  So he sighed as he released Bart, and raked his hand through his hair. He might as well just jump in and start somewhere with the explanation, though this was never going to go well for any of them. “Tally’s an old friend of mine.… From before.”

  “Tells me nothing, mate. Especially given your reputation from your old life. If anything, that says we shouldn’t trust the beast at all.”

  Like he didn’t know that. Kalder grimaced, hating Bart all the more for the truth of it, and aggravated at himself that he was having such a hard time of this. So he began again. “Aye. But he was my mentor.”

  “Of what? Dumb-assery?” Bart screwed his face up. “Are you daft, man? I just saw the totality of that woman. Ain’t no male parts hanging off that tree. Trust me. I’d have noticed any such dangling fruits in her amply visible and desirable nether regions.”

  Aye, but …

  Kalder held his hand up in testimony. “And I swear on me rotted-out soul that I’ve seen him as a man as sure as he was a woman just now. It’s part of who and what they are. They’re both sexes, and they’re neither.”

  That didn’t help Bart’s expression any, or the need inside Kalder to want to wipe that look off his face with both fists.

  “You’ve lost me completely, son.”

  Pushing down the base urge to beat the bloke, Kalder ground his teeth and attempted to explain it better. “I know. It’s a peculiarity among their kind. They’re neither male nor female. They function as both and neither. At times, such as when they’re in battle, they don’t have the sex organs of either gender. They just are battle drones. And then when they’re around others, they choose what they want to be, depending on their moods and the environment. Believe me, it was the most confusing thing for me as a lad … until I got used to them, and their breed. Me father thought it hilarious to use them as his primary scouting force. It was actually ingenious, if you think about it. ’Cause they could move about freely, and shift forms at whim with none the wiser, as humans knew nothing about who and what they were. Unless you’re of the sea, like us, you’ve never heard of their species before and so you know naught of their abilities or whimsical ways.”

 
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