There’s a loud slam as he throws down whatever he’d been holding. My eyes fly open as Riden hauls me up by my arms.
“What are you doing?” I demand. “You cannot keep touching me as though I’m a small child you can pick up and move whenever you want to.”
“If you insist on continually acting like a child, then there is no reason why I shouldn’t treat you as one.”
“What on Maneria are you talking about?”
“My room!” He huffs. “Look at it. It’s filthy. Half of my things are ruined, thanks to your damned drawings. I ought to toss you overboard!”
“You locked me up in here! What did you think would happen? You should toss yourself over for being a complete idiot. And if you wanted me punished, then you should have let the captain continue on with me instead of asking him to stop!”
“Are you complaining because I helped you?”
“I had things under control.”
“Just yesterday you were making a fuss because I didn’t stick up for you. You can’t have it both ways! So pick one!”
“What do you care what I want? Why don’t you have the balls to do what you want?”
Riden sighs and looks heavenward. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“You’re a woman. Act like it. You shouldn’t be saying such foul—”
“I’ll say whatever I please. I’m not a lady, I’m a pirate!”
“Well, you shouldn’t be!”
“And why’s that? I’m plenty good at it.”
“Because pirates aren’t supposed to look like you look and talk like you talk and do what you do. You’re confusing, and it’s messing with my head.”
“How is that my fault? I’m sure your head was plenty messed up before I came along.”
I can feel Riden’s breath in my face. He’s so close and so angry, I almost want to laugh.
“No, it wasn’t,” he insists.
Then he’s kissing me.
What the—I misread where that was going. I wanted to irritate him. To get under his skin. To mess with him because he’s working for the enemy. I hadn’t exactly expected him to get all mushy as a result.
But then again, I can’t exactly describe this as mushy.
It’s pure irritation expressed as a physical need. Interesting.
I’ve kissed many men, pirates and land dwellers alike. Normally it happens right before I’m about to steal something from them. Or because I’m bored.
Right now I’m not sure I have an excuse. In fact, I’m sure there are several reasons why I shouldn’t be kissing him. I just can’t think of them at the moment.
Perhaps it’s because Riden’s lips taste even better than I’d imagined. Or because his hands make my skin tingle where they hold the sides of my face. Maybe it’s the thrill of doing something my father wouldn’t approve of. I mean, he’s not exactly the overprotective type. He couldn’t care less about my dalliances. But he would most definitely be upset if he knew I was kissing the enemy, especially when I’ve nothing to gain from it. No, wait, that’s not true. It could definitely benefit me to have the first mate wrapped around my finger.
When Riden’s lips move down to my neck, I forget all about my father. There’s nothing except heat and chills all at once. He reaches the hollow at the base of my neck, and I let out a soft moan.
He returns to my lips with a new intensity. The burned spot on my tongue tingles when he traces it with his own. I rip out the band that holds together his hair and run my fingers through it.
The moment is perfect.
But the thought hits me like a hammer: This shouldn’t be perfect. In fact, it isn’t. I’ve gone too long without proper sleep and food. It’s making me act like a silly tavern wench. I can’t do this. I have thieving to do.
It is with great effort, not the physical kind, that I push Riden away.
His chest is heaving up and down. I’m sure mine is, too.
“That’s enough of that,” I say.
“You’re bleeding again,” Riden says, touching a spot on my cheek.
I hadn’t felt the cut reopen. “Probably your fault.”
“As I’m sure you believe most things are.”
“Of course.”
He smiles and starts to lean down again, and I’m so very tempted to let him close the distance. Wouldn’t be so hard if he wasn’t so good at this. Instead, I say, “I said that’s enough.”
He steps away from me quickly, as though he doesn’t trust himself to be near me.
“I have duties to perform,” he says, turning around.
“I’m sure.”
* * *
I wish I didn’t have to wait until nightfall to continue searching the ship. All I have to do when I’m left alone is think. And thinking is the last thing I want to do right now.
I’d rather be punching something.
Enwen comes in later to bring me another meal. I smile once he retreats. Riden’s a coward. He doesn’t want to face me right now. Perhaps that kiss was a good idea. It’ll certainly be worth watching him squirm later.
I get in a quick nap so I’ll be ready by nightfall. It was tempting to go right back to sleep once I awoke, but I have no time to waste now that Draxen and his crew are heading for my father.
It’s late when Riden enters the room again. He looks surprised to see me. “Oh, I thought you’d be asleep.”
“You mean you were hoping,” I say with a smile.
“And miss out on whatever snappy comment you have ready for me? Not a chance.”
“I don’t have a snappy comment prepared.”
“That’s a shame. I was rather hoping for a repeat of what happened after the last one.”
“I’m sure. Unfortunately for you, I’m a bit tired.”
“Then why aren’t you asleep?”
“I was getting there.”
“Looks more like you were waiting for me.”
Oh please. Maybe I should knock him out for the night. I can’t do that, though. He’d remember in the morning. I’d be all out of explanations if I knocked him out but stayed on the ship. I can’t leave until I have that blasted ever-elusive map!
“Just go to sleep, Riden. Here.” I get off the bed and sit in the chair instead.
“You’re going to sleep there?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to, all right? What’s with all the questions?”
“I’m your interrogator, remember?”
“Right now you’re off duty, so go to sleep.”
“Why do you so desperately want me to drift off? Hoping to climb in bed after I’m out?”
“Actually, I want the silence that comes after.”
Riden looks about the room. “You know, it’s really difficult for me to sleep knowing how filthy my room is. Maybe I’ll stay up until you conk out.”
I don’t have time for this. And I can’t risk pretending to fall asleep until he does. I might actually drift off, and that would be a whole night wasted.
I’m irritated. And perhaps if I weren’t so irritated, I wouldn’t have jumped so quickly to this solution. But I’m impatient after sitting around all day. I had my face pummeled. I’m still cranky for the want of sleep, and, honestly, I’m still hungry.
So I begin to sing. The melody is deep and soothing. I can feel my whole body humming with energy as it drifts out of me. I can feel every place in the room. The way the sound bounces off the wood, seeps into the blankets, enters Riden’s ears.
He steps closer, trying to hear the tune better. I indulge him by removing the distance for him. I take his hand and lead him to the bed. He follows, captured by my spell. I know what Riden wants in life. Love and acceptance. I weave those into the song and command him to sleep and forget that he ever heard me sing.
He has no choice but to obey.
Chapter 12
I FEEL THE EXPECTED longing of the ocean. I always feel it after I use my song. My chest aches. It bu
rns, yearning to go under the water where it can be soothed and nourished. I don’t need the strength of the ocean to survive, though, only to replenish my song—to strengthen the part of me that I try to keep hidden. But replenishing my abilities has its own consequence. That other part of me tries to take over, something I can’t risk until after I’ve completed my mission.
I am mostly human. But when I allow myself to use the gifts my mother gave me, I become something else. And it kills me a little inside each time I have to fight it back off.
* * *
I slip back into Riden’s room right before the sun starts to rise. I’ve got to put the key to the door back into his pocket.
But Riden groans as he sits up in bed. I quickly move away from the door and jump into the chair at his desk.
“What happened?” he asks, putting his hand to his head.
“Do you have a headache?” I ask. “You were groaning something fierce in your sleep.”
“No, it doesn’t hurt. It feels…”
I’ve sung to many men in the past. Those whom I’ve allowed to keep their memory of the experience have tried to explain to me what it feels like. I’ve heard it’s euphoric. That it’s pleasure and happiness all rolled into one. When I make them sleep, they dream about me all during the night. While I was growing up, there weren’t many men who let me practice my songs on them. But I practiced anyway. It wasn’t as though my mother was around to teach me. Father was eventually able to keep my abilities known to only a select group. He didn’t want his rivals to know just how powerful I am. The fighting skills he taught me alone make me dangerous. And being half siren—well, that makes me deadly.
“It feels what?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says quickly. He’s retreated into his mind, searching through memories or dreams. Waking is usually disorienting for my victims.
While it’s amusing to watch him fumbling with his thoughts, I need to get this key back on Riden before he notices it’s gone. “Did you sleep well?” I ask. “Good dreams?” I know he dreamed about me, but that doesn’t mean I know what I was doing in his dream.
Of course, I don’t expect Riden to be honest.
He looks dazed for a moment more. Then he seems to compose himself. “Yes. What happened yesterday? I can’t…”
I look at him sternly. “Were you drinking?”
He sits up, puts his bare feet on the floor. “I don’t drink that often. Never enough to get drunk. Especially not when I’m watching you.”
“But you don’t remember our night together?” I’m thinking fast here. I need to get rid of this key. I have to find an excuse to get close to him.
“Our night together?” Riden looks beyond confused.
I move to sit on his lap, making myself comfortable as I wrap my arms around his neck. Riden freezes in place.
“You really don’t remember?” I whisper seductively into his ear. My hands are at his shoulders. I move one down his chest. He’s solid as a rock, but his skin is smooth and warm. When I reach his waist, I drop the key into the pocket of his breeches.
It’s really just thieving, only backward.
Riden exhales and puts his hands on my hips. “Why don’t you remind me?”
I slide my hands down his arms until I can entwine our fingers. “There was some of this.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“And this.” I press my lips to his and kiss him gently. He returns in kind.
“Then what happened?” he whispers when I break away and trace my lips along the edge of his ear.
“Then—” I pause and lean farther into him. “You promised to help me get off the ship.”
He leans me back as if to lay me on the bed. Then he drops me. I hit the sheets with a soft plump.
“I think I would remember that,” he says, shoving my legs onto the bed as well.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’m sure everything will come back to you soon enough.”
“In the meantime, Draxen will be expecting me.” He walks over to the closet and rummages through the clothes I’ve left in heaps on the floor, grunting in displeasure as he searches.
Once he finds what he’s looking for—a pair of breeches—he starts sliding off the pair he has on, watching my reaction as he does so.
“Stop that,” I say, turning around quickly.
He laughs softly.
I should have kept calm, and I shouldn’t have turned around. If I had simply shrugged as though it didn’t bother me at all, Riden wouldn’t have been so amused. He would have taken his clothes elsewhere, I’m sure of it. But it all started so suddenly that I was unprepared with a response. There’s nothing to do about it now.
“When you’re confined to this room,” he says, “how do you expect me to be able to change into clean clothes?”
“Go get dressed in Draxen’s room!” I snap.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
I exhale angrily as I wait for him to finish. I listen to the rustling of cloth, the cinching of a belt, the thud of newly adorned boots smacking the floor—and I wait for it all to stop.
I’m listening so hard that I don’t even register that the boots are moving toward me until I feel a hand at my lower back.
His lips are at my ear. “It’s safe to look now, Alosa.” He brushes his lips across the side of my head before leaving.
I don’t realize how tense I am until my whole body relaxes.
* * *
I suppose I should be bored out of my mind during the next few days, but I’m not. Riden comes into his room often to check on me. We talk until he tries to morph the conversation into an interrogation. He wants to know things, like the layout of my father’s keep, how often supply ships deliver shipments, how many men guard the keep, and so on and so forth. I tell him none of these things. I will die before I give that information up. Well, actually they’d die, since I wouldn’t allow them to kill me.
I’ve noticed that Riden’s been keeping me at a distance. Still, he can’t help it when I bait him during the conversation. It’s fun watching him struggle, trying to find a balance with me. Toying with Riden is certainly more entertaining than scouring the ship. I become a little more anxious each night that goes by without the map turning up. I check our heading frequently, gauging how much time is left before I have to present the map to my father. We pass Lycon’s Peak and start sailing northeast.
It won’t be long now.
* * *
I wake early, even though I made it to bed late. I’m too worried to sleep anymore, so I stare at the ceiling, thinking it all over in my head. I go over every spot I checked, searching for anything that may have been overlooked. My two weeks are almost up. The checkpoint could show up on the horizon at any moment.
“You’re up early,” Riden says from where he lies next to me.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I say.
“Are you worried about something?”
“Actually, it was your snoring that kept me awake.”
He smiles. “I do not snore.”
“My ears beg to differ.”
He rolls onto his back, staring upward with me. “Tell me what’s worrying you.”
“Aside from the fact that I’m being held hostage by enemy pirates?”
“Yes,” he says simply, “aside from that.”
Well, I can’t very well tell him that either Draxen or his father hid a map somewhere and I can’t find it. Instead, I ask him, “What’s the most reckless thing you’ve ever done to try to impress your father?”
He’s quiet.
“Does it pain you to talk about him?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. I try not to think about him because I hated him so much.”
“I understand.” I wait to see if he’ll still answer my question.
He sighs. “It’s difficult to say. I did many reckless things.”
“Tell me one of them.”
“All right,” he says pensively. “Once, when we were sailing far
out at sea, we pillaged a ship before burning it down. My father dropped a chest of jewels into the ocean while trying to haul it over to the ship. I dove in after it.”
“I think perhaps we should go over the meaning of reckless.”
“There were acura eels in the water, finishing off the sailors that survived the initial attack on their ship.”
I turn my head in his direction. “Now that was reckless.” Acura eels are more feared than sharks. They’re faster and more sensitive to human blood. In some cases, they’re even bigger and toothier. Most of the time, they stay near the ocean floor, but if they sense a disturbance at the surface, they’ll come to investigate.
“Were you able to get the chest back for him?” I ask.
“No. An eel headed for me. Draxen saw it and lowered me a rope. He hoisted me out of the water just in time.”
“What did your father do?”
“He tried to toss me back over to get the chest, but Draxen was able to talk him out of it.”
“Sounds to me that if you hadn’t killed him, someone else would have eventually. He sounds awful.”
“He was.” Riden turns to look at me. “I’m guessing that question wasn’t random. Are you doing something reckless to impress your own father?”
“I do reckless things for the fun of it.”
“I have no trouble believing that.”
“Do you feel like you knew your father well?”
He shrugs. “Well enough. Why?”
I have to be careful. I need to make the conversation seem harmless. He needs to think it’s all about me. “My father trusts me more than he does anyone else in the world, yet I can’t help but feel like he keeps secrets from me.”
“Everybody has their secrets. We would all feel too exposed if we weren’t able to keep things to ourselves.”
“What are—” No, I can’t ask Riden about his own secrets. I need to keep the conversation focused. “But this feels different. Couldn’t you tell when your father was keeping things from you? Big things?”
“Yes, usually.”
“My father had a hiding place on his ship, a loose floorboard in his rooms. He would keep important things there. When I felt like he wasn’t telling me everything, I could usually find his plans and secrets there.” I’m making this all up quickly. I hope Riden can’t tell.
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