At Death’s Door

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At Death’s Door Page 5

by Kenyon, Sherrilyn


  It wasn’t until she’d joined the Deadmen crew of the Sea Witch, who were charged with hunting down demons and returning them to their respective hell dimensions, that she’d ventured into such human hellholes and learned what Xuri had meant. Only then had she fully understood his reluctance for her to enter such places.

  He’d been right. They were disgusting. And it did nothing to salvage her low opinion of the people who had spent her entire lifetime tormenting her and trying to prey on her innocence and poverty because they saw her as less than nothing. Thought her an easy mark because her father had picked his pride over her future. Honestly, she couldn’t fathom what Xuri found so evocative about them.

  The stench alone was enough to keep anyone with a nose far away.

  Yet Xuri was an easy one to pick out of the thick crowd in the smelly room. Not just because he was there with his two companions she knew so well, Oussou and Masaka, who were impossible to miss on their best days, but because he sat with Papa Legba and Baron Samedi.

  A chill went down her spine that the gathered loas were all away from their precious island, Vilokan. The loa homeland that existed below the seas where they took the dead and lived in peaceful accord with each other until they were summoned into the human world. Rare was it for them to be gathered in such a manner.

  And this was no happy outing.

  They wore the grim faces of the reaping they were known for. Sitting in a semicircle, the four men reminded her of a murder of crows. A cloud of cigar smoke encircled their heads while Papa Legba and Samedi swapped rum glasses.

  As the sole female of the group, Masaka was tall, with dark skin and eyes that flashed with intelligence. Her red brocade coat was embroidered in the same gold that matched the trim of her tricorne hat. But like her brother, she remained silent while the older spirits talked.

  Legba narrowed his gaze on Xuri. “You weren’t to be dabbling with her kind, you know that, son.”

  Sullen in his silence, Xuri twisted his glass as a tic started in his jaw.

  “What were you thinking?” Legba lit a new cigar while he glared with dark, soulless eyes.

  Dressed in a bright purple brocade coat, the baron shook his head. “She’s not one of us. She can never be one of our kind.”

  Xuri met the baron’s gaze without shirking. “Neither was Maman Brigitte.”

  An earthquake went through the room, causing the humans to shriek and seek cover. It was so deep and fierce that even Valynda felt the fury of its shivering.

  Xuri didn’t flinch.

  Papa Legba lowered his cigar and reached for the rum nearest him. “What are you saying? Are you to marry her, then?”

  Xuri shook his head. “You know better. She’s human. There’s no place for her in our world. Least not so long as she’s alive.”

  Samedi cut his gaze to Oussou. “Go to Erzulie. Find his human a lover and take her off our brother’s hands. Sooner rather than later.”

  Valynda held her breath as she waited for Xuri to stop his little minion from obeying. To do something other than sip his herb rum and ignore the other spirits.

  He didn’t.

  Rather, he just sat there, doing nothing.

  Nothing!

  Her heart sank as she felt the horror of the one piece about her fate that she’d never known. Xuri had taken a personal hand in her damnation. No wonder he’d been so quick to help Thorn bring her back.

  Not out of love.

  Out of guilt!

  Fury rose up and choked her. How could he have done this to her? How! She’d loved him more than anyone. Had trusted him. Given him every piece of her heart and soul. And how had he repaid her?

  With treachery! He’d worked against her and had sicced her worst nightmare upon her. Sold her out to an embittered old bastard for sport because she’d meant nothing to him.

  Never in her life had she felt so stupid.

  So … so …

  Words failed her.

  Pain filled her.

  Truly, she wanted to die as emotions battled each other for supremacy and she couldn’t tell which one she should give in to. The hurt, the rage, or the confusion.

  All she knew was that her life had been torn apart and she’d done nothing to deserve this. Nothing save love a creature she thought loved her back. That shouldn’t have cost her everything and more. Love shouldn’t be paid for with blood and bone. Never should it cost someone their soul.

  He’d taken everything in the world that was precious to her and more. Therefore, it only seemed right that she should return the favor. If he didn’t love her or care about her, she knew one thing he did give a damn about.

  One thing he couldn’t stand to live without.

  It would be as precious to him as her body had been to her.

  Her breathing ragged, she turned to meet Adarian’s gaze. “You want his staff? I’ll get it for you.”

  Xuri would only be lucky if she didn’t ram it someplace extremely uncomfortable first!

  Valynda wasn’t prepared to return to her straw body after her blessed respite. The sheer cruelty of it …

  It made her want an even larger piece of Xuri’s hide over his betrayal. But that also built up her resolve to see this mission through no matter what it took. To not let her feelings for Xuri intrude on what had to be done. To be as cold toward him as he’d been toward her when he made the decision to sell her out and leave her to die.

  After all, why shouldn’t she? He’d put himself first. Why shouldn’t she do the same? Even her own father had cast her off for his own gain. Used her as a bargaining chip as if she were a mindless thing.

  Be good. Do as you’re told. ’Twas all she’d ever heard. Cause no problems. Just be a pretty little thing.

  She’d been cast as a doll long before Thorn had brought her back in a poppet’s straw body.

  No one had ever given a fig about her, and she was done with this wretched world and the callous way it had always treated her.

  Thorn had brought her back to protect mankind. Yet at the moment, she wasn’t feeling particularly charitable toward anyone else. Not while her heart was so broken. She might not be able to feel physical pain, but she could feel this splintering inside her that hurt so deep to her soul that she feared she’d never be whole again. And she was tired of aching like this. Of being used and used up.

  Of crying while no one cared about the damage they did to her.

  At least until she saw Mara surrounded by a group of jumbies—demonic creatures who lived to inflict pain and prey on the life forces of others. Parasitic beasts with no regard for anything save themselves.

  With her powers, Mara had fashioned two sets of circular blades for weapons so that she could fight them off. Still the jumbie demons came at her, trying to overrun the pregnant Deruvian who’d protected the Deadmen for all these many months as their mother-ship.

  In a weird way, their vicious attack on Mara made sense. She was part of an ancient tree race and the jumbie were part of the silk cotton trees. They were of similar species and probably had a common ancestor somewhere. Perhaps defeating her would give them additional powers and strengths.

  Let them have her. What do you care?

  For once, she was feeling that selfish and brutal. Like the rest of the world and like most everyone had been toward her.

  But Mara was her friend. She’d never been unkind to her, and that meant a lot to Valynda. Particularly because Mara had nothing to gain by being nice. It was merely her nature to be that way. Such people were so rare that she refused to see her harmed. Nay, not this day, and not while the good captain relied on Valynda to protect the one thing in this world he loved above all others.

  Kindness should never be rewarded with betrayal. Such a rarity should be protected at all costs.

  By life and limb, and especially those exceptionally rare few who gave it for no reason whatsoever.

  Growling with the weight of her betrayal, Valynda rushed forward to join the fight. Not to mention it gave
her an outlet for her own pent-up rage at this callous life that seemed to begrudge her every breath. Aye, she needed this!

  More, she wanted to taste their blood and let it quench her fury. While she might not have the powers that Mara had, Valynda could cut the heads off any demon who came after her, and she had the added bonus of being an immortal who could feel no physical pain. Let them try their best, for the jumbies weren’t so fortunate. They could be banished back to their hell realms by separating their heads from their bodies or piercing their eyes. And if her mood were foul enough, she could even take their life force and extinguish it entirely.

  Which was why she used a long, thin rod to hold her straw hair up from her neck. Made it easy to keep a weapon handy. Sliding it free, she ignored the straw braid that fell forward as she used the long blade to pierce the eye of the first jumbie she reached.

  “Take that, you heartless bastard! Pick on a pregnant woman, will you! To the devil, let you burn!”

  It made a piercing, horrendous scream, then burst into a shimmery veil of dust. That gave the obnoxious fiend next to it pause as it realized what had happened. And by whose hand death had come.

  When the other demon tried to run, Mara threw out one of her “limbs” and wrapped it around him to trip him and haul him back toward them. Now that made Valynda wish she could turn into a tree and grow her arms at will.

  Oh, to have those talents with her straw! But then everyone had their own unique skills.

  Hers appeared to be chafing the gods. Why else would they punish her so?

  “Val!”

  She turned at Mara’s call to see three jumbies headed for her. Valynda barely caught the first she-bitch that reached her before it sank its fangs into her arm. Not that it would have mattered really, given that she couldn’t truly feel such bites the way normal people did. Still, it was nice to be warned. She elbowed the demon in the throat, then caught it with her rod.

  “How many of these are there?”

  Mara sighed. “Enough to be annoying.”

  She’d give Mara that. And they seemed to be multiplying like a hydra. Kill one, find ten more. ’Twould be terrifying to most. But at the moment, ’twas most edifying to her, as she had a lot of pent-up fury she needed to purge.

  So she welcomed the extra targets.

  “Give me more!” She tore through the demons with a glee that, judging by Mara’s face, must be a bit shocking. And why not? Valynda had always been one of the quieter, meeker members of their crew.

  Until now. But then betrayal had a way of bringing out the witch in even the gentlest of creatures. There was nothing more motivating than a need for blood vengeance.

  She understood that now.

  Especially when all the demons were dead and gone, and she found herself standing in front of Mara, and Valynda took note of the alarmed expression on her friend’s beautiful face as she stared at her as if she were a stranger.

  “Are you all right?”

  Valynda hesitated as she wondered what Mara saw that gave her such concern. “Aye. Why?”

  “Just …” Her voice trailed off while she glanced around the darkness, where blood was smeared all about. “You seemed a little bloodthirsty there. Much more so than usual. Been hanging with Kalder a bit?”

  She snorted at the mention of their ship’s striker. He could be a bit intense in a fight as he’d been one of their rougher members.

  Especially now that he’d claimed Cameron as his bride. While he’d been protective of the crew before, he’d jumped to a whole new level of insane protection after his marriage. One that had only intensified with his wife’s pregnancy.

  Before Valynda could comment on their similarities, a portal appeared beside them. The light was almost blinding in the darkness. Mara summoned her sharp wooden daggers again as Valynda made ready to attack whatever new creature was coming for them. Though to be honest, she was growing a bit weary of the battle. Why couldn’t something nice come out of the portal for once? Like maybe soft butterflies.

  A piece of pie or music?

  Just as Valynda made ready to rush and attack whatever new monster hell had decided to spit out at them now, she paused to see an incredibly tall, handsome demon stepping through. One with red, evil eyes and coal-black hair that begged for a woman’s fingers to be twisting through its curls. More than that, his lethal predator’s lope said he was here to kick the ass of anyone foolish enough to cross his path.

  And Valynda had seen him do that enough to know he was more than able to make good on that threat.

  Mara ran into his arms with a delighted cry.

  With a deep grunt of relief, Captain Bane scooped up his wife in one arm, while holding out his sword with the other, ready to stab and kill whatever creature had made her so hysterical. He scowled in confusion as there was nothing left to confront him, then paused as he caught sight of Valynda, who watched them with an amused smirk.

  Behind him, Blackheart Bart and William Death slowed down their rush to fight as they realized they’d missed the threat, too.

  Stepping forward, Valynda clapped Bart on his broad shoulder. “Day late. Pound short, gentlemen. We ladies already took care of the nasty beasties. Thanks for not being here.”

  With a mane of long brown hair that he wore tied back in a tight queue, Bart had the bluest eyes of any man Valynda had ever known. And like Xuri, he fancied jewelry to such an extent that he wore a ring upon each finger. What was more, he’d not only pierced both ears, but also his left eyebrow, where he wore a small gold hoop.

  Even so, he was still unbelievably handsome. Same as William, what with his black hair and hazel blue eyes that had seduced many a maid past her common sense and out of her knickers. Much to the maid’s later chagrin. And to hear Will tell it, his too, many times.

  Those men were just three of the reasons being a member of the Sea Witch wasn’t so bad. She had to give it to Thorn, he’d picked a mighty handsome crew for this venture. Or perhaps that was the thing about evil.

  It liked to corrupt pretty things.

  Come to the dark side, we have luscious booty.

  Bart tsked. “Are you telling me that we’re too late to play hero? What good are we then?”

  “Not a bit, mate.” Will winked. “It’s what I keep telling you.” He sheathed his sword before he grinned at Valynda. “Are you all right, milady?”

  “Aye. Thank you.”

  The three of them ignored the captain and his wife, who were locked in a bit of an awkward display of affection. So much so that Bart began to whistle and clap his hands together. A bit loudly, as if trying to separate them, and remind them that they weren’t alone in the dreary darkness.

  “Thinking we should head back to the ship, eh?” Will volunteered loudly when Bart’s tactic didn’t work.

  Bart nodded. “Definitely.” He passed a meaningful look toward the captain and Mara. “Anyone got a crowbar?” He smirked. “Bucket of cold water?”

  Will let out a scoffing snort. “I dare you, mate.”

  She couldn’t agree more, as such a move would be all kinds of suicide. Not to mention, she didn’t want to dawdle, as more jumbie friends could come back at any moment.

  “We’ll just leave them to it, shall we?” After all, Captain Bane was more than capable of dealing with anything their enemies could toss at them.

  With one last look, Will led the way back toward the portal.

  Valynda didn’t hesitate to follow. Last thing she needed right now was to see a happy, loving couple. That only reminded her of how badly Xuri had done her and how much she wanted to cut off a piece of his anatomy and hand it to him.

  With her regards.

  Bloody bastard.

  He’d deserve it, too, for what he’d done.

  They all would. Every last one of them.

  Their ship’s pilot, Sancha, was right. Men were the worst sort of philandering beasts, one and all. Their cod-dangles were nothing more than dowsing rods bent on seeking trouble and women of
low virtue. Their lips might claim to want one thing, but their actions spoke of something else entirely. Why Valynda had ever sought to protect one of their questionable species, she had no idea. Some of her stuffing must have come loose in her noggin and left her seriously lacking.

  That was her thought, until they returned to the ship and she was greeted by more hugs and well wishes than she’d ever imagined. Her head spun as she was grabbed up, squeezed, and then passed to the next set of arms.

  It wasn’t until she got to Cameron and Kalder Dupree that she came to a staggering halt. Laughing, Cameron drew her into a warm hug. “You poor wee thing. You look a bit dazed.”

  Valynda smiled at her friend. Since Cameron had married Kalder, she’d stopped dressing as a man, and had begun to wear the trappings of a woman. Gowns looked good on her, as did the dainty bonnet that framed her lovely face and brought out the curve of her flushed cheeks, which had grown rounder with her pregnancy. “How did all of you find us?”

  Kalder inclined his head to someone over Valynda’s shoulder.

  She glanced over, expecting to see a crewmember or Thorn.

  It wasn’t.

  To her eternal shock and dismay, Xuri was there, towering over her. He’d covered his curly dark hair and those feathers he wore braided into them with a black linen headscarf that strangely made him seem tame. Subdued. For the first time, she saw the guilt in his amber eyes and knew it for what it was.

  Guilt for his part in condemning her to this fate. Damn him for it.

  More than that, he’d tamed down his dandy fashion to a faded light purple linen shirt and a plain black overcoat. Black breeches and scuffed, unremarkable boots. He was more akin to the captain than the arrogant peacock he normally appeared whenever he made his presence known among humans. The only accouterments to betray his loa identity were the elaborate necklaces layered around his neck and the studded leather belt with a large silver skull buckle. And of course his bejeweled rings. They alone were the usual fare that she’d never seen him part with.

  Meanwhile, Oussou wore his pale hair pulled back from his handsome face. He stood to Xuri’s right, dressed in his typical elaborately embroidered black brocade jacket and satin breeches. His purple vest stood out in vivid contrast to the somber colors. As did Masaka. But then, she always stole the show and drew everyone’s attention. Her dark skin glistened in the light even though she’d painted the outline of her skull over the top of her flesh so as to scare those who saw her. It was, after all, what she loved to do most—

 

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