Silver Tongue Devil (Devil in the Deep Blue Sea #1), page 24
We easily walked out; the men were passed out cold. Keeping several feet in front of Croygen, I didn’t look back to see if he was there. I didn’t need to; I could feel him. His presence pumped in my veins, propelling me to walk even faster, to lose him in the streets.
But somehow, I felt it would be pointless. He would be able to find me.
“Soooo?” Sprig said into my ear, his tone full of implication. “You and the pirate, huh?”
“There’s no me and the pirate.”
“Huh. That’s funny because from where I was, it looked like he was digging for treasure… with his fingers and tongue.”
Embarrassment burned my cheeks, wanting to slip away into the tiniest place and hide.
“The buccaneer got the kitty purring?”
Ignoring the remark, I darted faster through the lanes.
“He swab your deck? Loot the booty? Shiver thy timbers?”
“Sprig.” My voice grated. “Please stop.”
“Don’t worry, Bhean chait.” Cat-woman. “The whole room really enjoyed your energy.”
“Ours?”
“You and the bootlegger,” Sprig replied. “That sex power was all you guys.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The other four barely had any wits about them, so drunk and low-magicked they couldn’t have sparked a candle between them all, let alone boinked so hard,” he uttered.
I shook my head, wishing we were already back at the ship, this conversation tapping at something I did not want to discuss.
“Well, just saying, they owe you thanks. Pam says thank you too.”
I squeezed my lids, stopping my mind from going to a very bad place and grateful when we got back to the dock.
Cooper, Scot, Tsai, and Vane waited for us to return, their gazes moving over me when I walked up the plank. Sprig leaped over to Cooper, whining about being starved to death.
Vane strolled closer to me, smirking, his gaze going to the large damp spot on my shirt.
“Took care of business, I see.” His eyebrow lifted.
“Yes, we got the information we needed. We know exactly where they’re headed.”
“Not what I was talking about, bonita…” He leaned in. “I have a nose for sex… I can smell it all over you.”
“Vane,” Croygen barked, a warning to back away.
“Someone’s feeling possessive.” A full grin broke out over Vane’s face, his eyes moving over me with glee as he stepped away.
“You have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Sure.”
The shame I felt on my own seemed to crush me as I took in everyone’s perceptive looks. They all knew.
My revenge became pathetic, my core beliefs nothing but words, my fight all hiss and no claws. I was hollow, and my word was worthless.
I couldn’t stand being there one more minute, needing to wash him off me, get away from the scrutiny.
I took off for the stairs, leaving him to call after me.
“Kat?”
I didn’t stop, didn’t look back, disappearing into the crew’s quarters.
How could I hate someone so much, desire his suffering, and at the same time crave him, feel a peace with him I had only felt when I was his pupil? He had always been my home. I was safe, secure, and nothing could harm me when he was around.
Until he became the one who hurt me.
I could never trust him, never concede to what fluttered in my gut like a promise.
Croygen and Kat could have been friends.
The Silver-Tongue Devil and Puss in Boots would always be enemies.
Chapter 21
Croygen
My eyes stayed on where she had disappeared, an uncomfortable pressure resting on my chest. The entire way back, she couldn’t seem to get away from me fast enough, though at the same time I felt like she was calling to me, pulling me along the streets without even trying. I knew before she turned where she was going. I knew, by a twitch of her cheek, she was just as aware of me as I was of her.
I couldn’t even describe what happened back in the room, what possessed me to do what I did. I was out of control. Touching her, making her come, was something I needed more than air.
People fucking in the same room had me hard, but it wasn’t the first time I’ve been trapped with people having sex. Ryker and Zoey were fucking fiends, and I had lived with them. The last night before our fight against two powerful entities a few years ago, the entire castle was fucking like it was their last rites. I could hear them, feel them, and Lexie was undoubtedly hinting at it, encouraging me to cross the line with her, begging me, but I had kept it in my pants, able to restrain myself.
Where the hell was that restraint about forty minutes ago?
“Captain?” Scot’s voice yanked my head away from where she had gone. I turned to him as if I hadn’t been staring after her like a lost puppy.
He tried to hide his expression. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” I peered at the faces around me.
They all knew something had happened. We reeked of sex; the intensity from the room clung to me like a second skin.
That had to be the reason. I just ate out my old first mate’s daughter, a girl who had plagued me, bringing me bad luck since the day she left my ship.
Rotty’s face came into my head. I imagined his expression at finding out what I did to his baby girl. “Fuck.” I rubbed at my head, self-loathing knifing up my chest.
“Captain?” Scot called me again, making me more irritated at myself that I was so inattentive.
“You might need to try again. Some of his brain cells were dumped out on the floor earlier.” Sprig munched on something Cooper had given him.
My lashes lowered, and I glared at the sprite. He shrugged. “Am I wrong? You left your nuts and cream all over the place.”
“Shut. It.” It was more than a warning, my mood plunging quickly.
“I’m sure if you wring out her shirt, you can get them back.”
My gaze flashed, going from Sprig to Cooper.
“Sprig, why don’t you go downstairs,” Cooper suggested, hiding his smirk. “Annabeth was worried about you. Plus, I think she has your honey-covered mango chips.”
“Ahhhh!!!!” Sprig leaped off, zooming around the deck. “Honeyhoneyhoneyhoneyhoney!!!” He zipped down the stairs, his voice echoing after him. I wouldn’t be surprised if we found him passed out on the stairs, never making it to the room. Narcolepsy usually followed his zoomies.
Taking a deep breath, I walked farther onto my main deck before facing the men. “The shark-shifters are heading to Lichuan, Enshi City.”
“Where the hell is that?” Vane asked.
“Inland, about a week or so by horse. It’s where the Tenglong Caves are.”
“The dragon caves?” Scot ran his knuckles over his beard, his eyebrows wrinkling in curiosity. “Isn’t that place still supposed to be teeming with dragon magic?”
“Yep. A great place to hide treasure,” I responded.
“You know no one searching for dragon treasure there has ever come out.” Scot leaned against a mast. “Old dragon magic is not something to mess with.”
“There is no other option.” My gaze went to Cooper’s, his eyes saying the same. For AB, there was no other choice, plus Katrina couldn’t go back on her promise. All we could do was move forward.
“Cooper and I will head out tomorrow… with Katrina.” I muttered the last part. Her vow put her right in the game; she couldn’t stay back. “The rest will stay here.”
Voices instantly refuted, heads shaking.
“No,” Scot exclaimed. “I’m not letting you go off someplace like that with no backup.”
“Scot, this isn’t up for debate. You are my first mate; I need you here, in charge. And if anything happens to me, this is your ship… you are the captain. The flag on this ship will never be lowered.” That was the rule of the sea: the pirate might die, but the name and the ship would continue on.
Scot’s jaw rolled, but he knew this was how it went. He took on the role of captain if I was off ship.
“Then Zid and I go with you,” Vane stated.
“No.” I wagged my head. “The more people, the more we draw notice. Cooper and I have fought things you guys could never imagine.” Like the creatures Rapava made from Zoey’s DNA, turning things like strighoul into smarter, harder-to-kill monsters. Strighoul were the bottom feeders in the fae world. They were what humans thought of as “vampires,” but they were far worse. They didn’t just suck blood; they were cannibals, eating fae to contain powers.
Zoey’s “kids,” as we called them, had escaped and were still out there. They were so good at hiding that even the bounty hunters, Ember and Eli, couldn’t find them.
“And Katrina certainly can hold her own. We’ll be fine.”
“I’m going too.” Annabeth’s voice came from the stairs, a sleeping monkey in her hoodie pocket.
“No,” I refuted. “No way.”
“Yes,” she stated sternly, her attention flashing to Cooper, daring him to defy her too.
“AB…” He sighed. “It’s too dangerous. And you’re—”
“If you say human, I will punch you,” she volleyed. “And you know Zoey has taught me to fight.”
Zoey was an ex-street fighter who used to go by the moniker “Avenging Angel,” and, fuck, I had seen her drop people in seconds. She scared the crap out of me and totally turned me on at the same time.
“I’m not weak or fragile.”
“Babe, I’m sorry, but compared to us, humans are fragile,” Cooper countered.
“Where you go, I go.” She spoke directly to him, the link between them palpable. “Would you let me leave you behind?” We all knew he wouldn’t. “And just think what it would do to me if you didn’t come back.”
“I’m a Dark Dweller, baby. I always come back.”
She rolled her eyes, her hands going to her hips. “I’m going. If we’re a team, then we’re a team in everything. Don’t put me in a cage and suffocate me because you’re scared. Not. Now.” She stressed the last two words, meaning more than most here understood. “I want to live every moment. With you.”
Cooper’s shoulders lowered, his white flag waving.
“What? No.” I stepped up. “You can’t! If anything happened to you…” Fear tightened my throat. “I can’t let you.”
Annabeth stepped up to me, her blue eyes seeing right through me, seeing the terror Lexie went through all over again.
“You would have never kept her from that battle. No matter what you did. No one could have.” Her hand squeezed mine. “If Lexie taught me anything, it was to go after what I want, not cower away, because in life, fae or human never know how long they have left in this world.”
Tears burned my lids, my teeth clenching.
Shit, I think I just surrendered too.
Sipping my whiskey, I stared at the moon in the sky. I needed to get some sleep, but my mind wouldn’t let me.
It wasn’t about the treacherous journey we were undertaking across this perilous land, the fact Annabeth was coming, or what was ahead…
No, all I could think about was her.
Downstairs, on the other side of the ship, I swear I could hear her heart beating, feel her calling to me, the ache in my cock becoming more distinct.
No matter how much I drank, I could still taste her on my tongue, feel her coming, her body convulsing, orgasming so hard I almost drowned in it.
A low growl hummed in my throat, and I slammed down my empty glass, my feet pacing the floor. The turmoil in my mind kinked up like eroded gears, stuck, repeating the same scene over and over.
She made me lose control. Sex had always been a game for me, one I was excellent at. I could handle my urge and draw out the woman’s pleasure until she went blind and passed out from the intensity. Many times, when seducing someone, I walked away without coming. I made it all about them. They felt special, prized. Wanted.
With Katrina, I had no such constraint. Something had possessed me—the need to soil her, claim her. My cock stiffened again when I saw my seed on her, wanting nothing more than to drag my fingers through it and push it into her pussy.
“RRRRRRRRRRRR.” A noise gurgled in my throat, my hand hitting my bed frame in aggravation.
In all the situations I put myself in during my long life, the terrifying, deadly, and dangerous things I had done, I had always stayed calm. I was the guy that nothing seemed to faze. Threatened, tortured, and almost killed a thousand times? Whatever.
Alone under a bed with a petite cat-shifter? Fucked.
I paced back to my table, leaning over it, trying to regain my sanity.
Think of Rotty. What would he think of your actions?
My attention went to his dagger on my belt. Slowly I pulled it out, laying it on the desk in front of me. I stared at the blade I carried with me. As punishment. As remembrance. As a tribute to the man who loved his daughter more than anything.
The memory of that day replayed freely in my head. Over and over, torturing me. The smells, sights, sounds, and tastes coming back to me like it was yesterday…
The stench of black powder smothered the air, burning my nose and coating my tongue. Clanks of swords, blasts of rifles, and yells of men fighting clashed over the deck.
The glorious Silver Devil flag whipped in the wind above us, still declaring that this was my ship, my crew, and my home. But for the first time in my life, genuine fear iced my heart. My guard had been down, thinking we had an understanding. A truce.
He had three times the men I had and trained them to be barbarians like him. Cruelty was the point, and he loved inflicting pain and terror.
“Lowe?” I bellowed at the man coming aboard who was trying to take my ship.
Ned snapped his head to me. The apathetic deadness in his eyes told me there was nothing left in him except for greed, fame, and malice. He knew what ship he was raiding and didn’t care.
Ned Lowe was known across the sea for being merciless, a pirate who got off on brutality and torture. Except we had known each other for a long time, been crew together in our youth, drank in pubs, fought pirate hunters, and raided merchant ships. I saved his skin more times than I could count.
Not exactly friends, but certainly not enemies. A comrade who would help me in an attack, not be the assailant.
I was wrong.
“Is this who you are now?” I motioned around, our men at war, though mine were already falling.
“Nothing personal, Croygen.” He sneered. His scarred, bearded face, worn clothes, sharp broadsword, and filthy, knotted hair made a frightening figure. He wanted to look savage, someone you’d fear for his cold ruthlessness.
“Not personal?” I regripped my sword, moving closer to him. “It feels very personal to me. After everything, you come for me?”
“I’m here only for what is mine.”
“Yours? I have nothing here for you.” Nor much bounty. I hadn’t had much luck lately with pilfering merchant ships.
Bangs and screams circled around me. Several of my crew were already dead, their blood staining the wood red.
“Get off my ship, Lowe.”
“But your ship was part of the deal.”
“What deal?”
Lowe’s grin was haughty, like there was something I was missing.
“Oh, Croygen. At one time, I used to respect you. Looked up to you. Now all I see is a washed-up, gullible man whose own crew doesn’t even respect him.” He wagged his head. “A man about to lose everything.”
A boom blasted in my ears. A cannonball cropped the quarterdeck, throwing me back, my head smacking hard against the deck before everything went black.
Shaking my head, I shoved the memory back, the anger still curdled in the back of my throat. That day altered my life forever. Ned’s words stuck like a sword because he was right—I had lost everything.
Collapsing in my chair, I threw my feet on the table, exhausted but too riled to sleep. The journey ahead was going to be fraught with danger, harsh conditions, and arbitrary fae doors we could disappear into.
In a land of lawlessness, one would find out exactly the kind of person you were when everything was about life and death.
The horse’s hooves clipped along the road, my ass aching with every bounce. My mood had soured somewhere in the fifth or sixth hour of our fifteen-hour ride, and we’d barely made a dent in the land we needed to cover. The sun was stifling, but eased as it lowered over the horizon. Days like this made me realize how much I missed modern conveniences—cars, trains, motorcycles, planes.
What used to take hours now took a week or two, going back to the days Genghis Khan used to ride these same trails.
My horse kept a strong pace, leading, while Katrina or Cooper took turns watching our backs. Even in the daylight, we weren’t safe anymore. When there was no right or wrong, no police to run to, why wait for darkness? The only thing that made traveling in the day safer was the raiders were probably staying indoors and out of the heat.
When the sun disappeared, the thieves would start to hunt.
“I think she looks like a Sally? No, maybe a Gertrude?” An annoying voice grated in my ear, his fur brushing my hot, sticky skin.
“Not naming the horse,” I grumbled. We had taken the burden of caring for these horses off some rich asshole in the suburbs, where the elite had moved to, trading their high-rises for farms. The elite outright stole homes with land, farming, and animals, while the original farmer was usually forced to work his own land, living in a hut away from the main house while the new owners took the profits.
“That’s rude. No one wants to be called Whatchamacallit. Oooohhh, do you remember those? Sweet caramel, peanut crisps, and chocolate goodness. They would have been better if they dipped them in extra honey too, but still, they were good. Why they never gave them a name, I don’t understand.
“That was their name.”
“What was?”
“Whatchamacallit.” I knew where this was going.
“See? You don’t even know their name,” he exclaimed. “So do you have one?”
