Daughter of Wolves

by Stephanie Anthony

  DAUGHTER of WOLVES

  We will always be Wolves

  Chapter 1

  Siren’s Call

  She strode down the torchlit corridor. The walls dripped with mould, moisture from the rough waters that barraged this coastline. The seas around the Forest Lands were famously wild, it hadn’t been the easiest voyage to get here, though she found she preferred the rougher conditions. Who could call themselves a true pirate if they couldn’t put up with a little water, the waves crashing over you as the hull cut through breakers taller than the mast itself? Wild seas had never scared her, she had spent her whole life on deck, the sound of the waves as her lullaby. She knew its rhythms, its tantrums, had listened to its tales for as long as she could remember. It felt like a friend, but not one that you should ever trust too far – after all the sea was not something that could, or should, be tamed. Some wild things were meant to remain wild.

  This was certainly one of the more dingy prisons that she’d had the displeasure to visit, still, it was worth visiting for this. It had been a stroke of luck that one of the watch had the idea to contact her before judgement was done. She’d checked his papers, and recognised the list of crimes they’d tried to connect to the variety of titles he went by. His real name was not actually known by anyone, an impressive feat indeed for someone in his position.

  She made it her business to keep her ear to the ground, to know what was happening on land as well as she did on her ship. Reliable crew, useful crew, were hard to come by. Most in her position were happy to recruit at the ports as normal, taking on whoever was willing. She liked to do it her own way, as she did most things.

  The guard in front of her stopped and pointed to a particular cell. She stepped past her guide into view of the cell, careful to maintain the aim of her pistol. A bead of sweat ran down the man’s neck, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief as she thanked him and nodded towards the door, twitching the barrel of her gun away from the back of his head. The guard inched around the shadow that lingered in the hallway behind her, then practically ran from sight. She was not concerned that he’d raise any alarms. She had immunity here, there was nothing they could do. The pistol had merely been insurance, and because she enjoyed reminding men like that who was in charge. She cocked the weapon and shoved it back into the holster at her hip.

  She smiled, dragged a chair from the back wall, and sat in front of the bars. The man inside looked up. She watched the prisoner in silence, waiting for him to speak.

  “Can I help you?” He spat a glob of blood-tinged spit onto the ground. He was better spoken than his rather dishevelled appearance would suggest. She was hardly surprised, someone had dealt him a decent punch to the face, the bruise was still coming out.

  They were pretty rough in this prison, and he was the sort of criminal they’d have been rather thrilled to catch. He didn’t look like the sort to mouth off. If his reputation was correct he was smarter than that.

  She didn’t reply, nor stop her scrutiny of him even as he narrowed his eyes to glare at her. She let her long curly auburn hair fall loose as she removed her tricorn hat from her head, dropping it to the floor beside her chair. She found characters from places like this rather interesting, and this man looked particularly interesting. He was about her age, perhaps a little older. Younger than she’d been expecting. His eyes held a depth beyond his years though. They had a sharpness to them that only came from a hard life, from a criminal’s life. She knew that look all too well.

  She licked her lips and cleared her throat, “I’ve come to make you an offer.”

  His eyes narrowed further. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Irena. But that won’t mean anything to you. What might is my surname. I am Irena Wolf, Captain Irena Wolf.” She saw the familiar spark of recognition in the stranger’s eyes. She’d been recognised for her name her whole life – it had never been strange to her. Irena knew she could easily go by a different name, sink into the shadows, but she rather liked being noticed, being known. She was aware that her whole persona revealed this, even the clothes she wore, the low cut of her shirts, the tight trousers leaving extremely little to the imagination, the short jackets that accentuated the pistols at her hips. She liked the attention, craved it even.

  “As in Tigerlily and Tristan Wolf? The pirates?”

  Irena nodded.

  The man grinned, white teeth flashing from beneath cracked lips. Clearly he wasn’t as tattered as this usually. Those teeth spoke of wealth. “Ha, pull the other one love.”

  She was also used to this particular reaction – there weren’t many that believed who she was at first. Wolf was a well enough known name that there were plenty who claimed to be their offspring or relations. But most of them were liars.

  Irena let the word he had called her slide, though it grated on her – still, if he came aboard he’d soon learn not to disrespect her, and the other girls. “It is of no concern to me if you believe me or not. What I want to know is why you’re in here.”

  “Why do you wanna know that?” That was twice he’d slipped into street talk. It sounded odd against the educated lilt of his accent.

  Somebody had an interesting past, or was trying on a few different masks to see which would fit against her.

  She allowed a little of her winning personality to escape, treating him to an expression that was more of a snarl than a smile. Her mother had taught her that particular grin. “One thing you should learn is that I don’t like my questions to be answered with other questions.”

  All due respect to him he didn’t flinch, didn’t even blanch. He rolled his shoulders and leaned back into the chair he’d been provided, oozing nonchalance. “I stole some stuff.”

  “You were an aide to the black market. I gather an important member of an influential gang that fuelled the very market itself.”

  “What of it?” His jaw twitched, the only betrayal that he wasn’t all too happy that she was digging into his history. He was still playing dumb with her, though she could see he was extremely intelligent, you didn’t get to his position in a thief gang without being so. The phrase ‘far too clever for his own good’ came to mind.

  “What name are you going by currently?”

  His lips shifted into a mocking smile that showed he thought he was back in control. “I don’t do names.”

  “Tyler – that’s what they have you written down as, for the majority anyway. If you have no complaints I’ll continue to call you by that.” That muscle twitched again. Clearly he hadn’t expected her to have checked out his documents. But she always made sure to know who she was looking for. She did her research thoroughly. The question had been more to see how he’d react, how he’d try to lie. For she knew that he’d lie. “Have you ever been on a ship?”

  “Of course.”

  “Ever crewed one, Tyler?” Irena was very aware she was using his name as a weapon against him. She was good at finding weaknesses, and all too willing to use them.

  This time he kept his expression schooled. “No.”

  Irena stood and entwined her arms through the bars, her expression twisted in thought. He remained where he was in the centre of his cell, lounging in a simple wooden chair. His hands rested in his lap, concealed by a mound of chains. His skin was the colour of caramel, his hair jet black, and his eyes a greenish hazel. She had to admit he was attractive, but forgettable. The sort of face you wouldn’t pick out in a line up. Ideal for a criminal. Since he was shirtless Irena allowed her eyes to run down his chest, without any embarrassment or attempt to cover her actions. Not muscular, but healthy. She’d give him a positive evaluation for his physique. Her forwardness may have made him feel uncomfortable, but he didn’t show it. He simply met her gaze as
her eyes travelled back up to his face.

  Irena pulled her arms back and gripped the thick iron poles of the door. “Stand up, and come over here.”

  Tyler obeyed.

  Clever boy.

  His chains dragged across the floor, clattering as he walked. They favoured iron manacles in this prison. Most did away with those, especially once the prisoner was actually behind bars. These particular cells were nigh impossible to break out of, the bolts welded so tightly they were a struggle to open even with the keys. His door had four locks in total, and they’d also wrapped a chain secured with two huge padlocks for additional security. Irena suspected these were not usual protocol. Though, if the reports had been correct, he was a rather slippery prisoner to contain. The added security measures seemed to hint that they were. She’d clocked the guard’s sigh of relief when he’d verified the prisoner was still contained. Whether he’d been more afraid of repercussions from his superior, or from the woman with the gun pressed to his head, she wasn’t sure.

  One of a variety of Master Thieves – no one was actually sure how many of them existed, even amongst the thieves – second to only the High Thief, he was on the most wanted lists across the continents, under a variety of names. When captured the difficulty came in proving who he was; alibies would always appear, bribes would be paid, and he’d walk again. But this time one of his own had given him away, a harsh reality of power. Irena wondered how much the reward had been for someone to be willing to hand over their own boss…but then there was always a price.

  Tyler stopped the other side of the bars, twisting his wrists in his manacles as if he could make them any more comfortable. He was slightly taller than her, and now he was that bit closer she could see that his eyes had flecks of yellow in them. That was about the only notable thing about him, and not something you’d take notice of unless he was right in front of you. Everything else about his appearance was ordinary, attractive, but ordinary.

  Or perhaps that was just the aura he gave off. Certainly he’d be used to remaining unnoticed, being a thief. He reminded her of Eli, who for a time had been her mother’s first mate. She’d never quite put her finger on it, but though Eli made for a startling figure of a man, he always managed to remain unremarkable. The sort of person you wouldn’t recognise, or remember even. Tyler scratched his nose.

  Irena glanced down, blinked, then narrowed her eyes at him. Tyler just shrugged, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. He’d been holding his manacles in his hands, unlocked and hanging open, but in the next instant they’d been back on his wrists, as if he’d flicked them off, then back on and locked them. But that was impossible, no one could do that so quickly and silently. She’d almost missed it. She never missed things like that. The only reason she didn’t dismiss what she’d seen was that she’d learnt long ago to trust herself. His files had hinted at certain talents, but she had to admit it was something else witnessing it.

  She began again. “Here’s the deal. Either you stay in here, and meet whatever fate your crimes have gained you, or you come with me, and join my crew.” Irena paused for a moment, snaking her hand through the bars that parted them. Her hand connected with his chest in a brief caress before she snapped it back, as if it had been out of her control. “The catch is that if you don’t prove yourself to be a trustworthy crew member, you’ll have me to deal with.” She purred.

  “Are you serious?”

  She stepped back from the cell, the moment passed, and it was all business once again. “I have a deal with the guards here. They find me promising individuals, and I lay off their coastline, but keep my trading up. I get my choice of crew, and they get safe shores. Plus a regular source of income for the economy, even if it is through the black market.” She grinned. A thief had been on her list for a while.

  Tyler remained silent, still thinking about the offer she had made him, and the way she had touched him; so possessively, so brazenly. And she’d noticed the undone manacles. He’d barely had time to lock them again before her second glance. She was certainly not your average woman, maybe she really was the daughter of Tristan and Tigerlily Wolf. If it was true then she was more dangerous than she looked. He couldn’t decide whether it would be more foolish to go with her, than to turn her down.

  “Jim.” She called.

  A well-built man, that Tyler had mistaken for a shadow in the corridor, came into view. He was quite obviously a pirate, his skin tanned from the sun, his clothes dusted in salt spray. Blonde hair and strange eyes the colour of his skin, like honey. “This the one then?” He asked. His voice was deep, serious.

  “As soon as he accepts.” Irena’s dark eyes flashed back to Tyler. They were almost black, endless and inky, he could barely see her pupils in the shadows of the prisons.

  Tyler snorted. “It’s not really much of a choice is it?”

  “You don’t ask Captain Irena questions.” Jim stated sternly.

  “Fine, I accept.”

  “Good.” Irena purred. “Jim, bust him out would you?”

  Jim took up position before the bars, opening the cell door piece by piece with a ring of keys which had been stowed in one of the many pockets of his longcoat. Once the chains and padlocks had been removed, and the four locks clicked open, he drew back the huge iron bolt with no effort whatsoever and shouldered the door open. Jim strode in, and Tyler felt the weight of his manacles disappear. He flexed his hands, checking the state of them before rubbing at the marks around his wrists. Red and slightly bruised, but no broken skin at least. The damage should heal. He’d worn manacles before and prided himself on the fact that the evidence never lingered. In fact he tended to get away with just having them about his person, rather than actually around his wrists. After all, what would it say of his reputation as a thief if he were marked with scars from manacles?

  Jim gripped Tyler by the shoulder not all too gently, manhandling him out of the door. Tyler was tall, but Jim was still a couple of heads taller, and much broader from a lifetime at sea. Tyler decided to not argue against the rough behaviour. He glanced back at Irena as he was pushed down the corridor, who winked at him before falling in behind the pair of men.

  As they left the confines of the jailers block and stepped out onto the moonlit streets Tyler’s eyes immediately darted for an escape. He was a fast runner, if he could just get a couple of paces head start they’d have little chance of catching him. Flawing his plan was the heavy grip of Jim’s hand around his wrist, forcing his arm to be held behind his back at an awkward angle. That or walk beside him like an enamoured couple, and he wasn’t sure Jim would appreciate the sentiment.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Think you could let go now?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Jim grinned, and gripped Tyler tighter.

  Irena said nothing, but overtook the men and began striding ahead. The opportunity of escape out-ruled, at least for now, Tyler found himself studying Irena carefully.

  Her hair, now once again trapped under her tricorn hat, escaped in tendrils down her back, revealing long curls the colour of fire. She wore tight black trousers, which clung to the curves of her hips, and dark boots that rose almost to her knee. A wide tan leather corset belt cinched her waist in. Tucked into this was a dark top, maybe brown or green, it was hard to tell in this light. Fitted, but with sleeves that grew into wide cuffs, the fabric looked coarse. It wasn’t quite a shirt, not quite a jacket. The white collar of her undershirt poked out at the neck. At her back was strapped a sheath that ran the length of her spine. Two sword hilts protruded from it. As she walked she tapped a tune on the barrel of the pistol at her hip. She had two of those too. She was quite the walking weaponry.

  Gods those trousers were tight, and the way she walked, mesmerising…hypnotic.

  Irena turned suddenly, and caught Tyler watching her. She said nothing, but smiled flirtatiously. Tyler felt Jim tense behind him.

  Interesting, there was history there then, and she was not shy either. Though most women smiled back
at him when he smiled that way at them, and that same smile had won over plenty a woman. Her smile had been like looking into a mirror, mocking even, an outright challenge.

  Tyler grinned again, this time to no one in particular. It was good at least to be out of prison. He’d forgotten what fresh air smelled like, and hadn’t realised he’d actually become used to the stale mouldy odour that stifled the air behind those doors. They hadn’t trusted him with a window. He’d near laughed out loud when they’d started wrapping the chains around the locks. As if that would keep him from escaping, if anything it made it more appealing. Tyler loved a challenge.

  He rolled his tongue over his teeth and tasted the metallic tang of the pin he’d secured above his gum. The rest of his tools they’d taken away from him, but he always made sure to carry spares. What sort of Master Thief would he be if he didn’t have a backup plan? True, the fiery-haired woman’s appearance had been something of a surprise. But, much as he liked challenges, Tyler was not one to turn down a good opportunity when it presented itself. Maybe it was best if he disappeared for a time, at least until the traitor who he couldn’t even bear to name relaxed a little. Then Tyler could return, and usurp the usurper. No doubt he’d be milking his new role for all it was worth. Undeserved, jumped up little…Tyler breathed out slowly. No point getting riled up about it now. What had happened had happened.

  The air really did smell good out here, tinged with salt, and so free. He looked up, the moon was bright tonight, not a good night for thieves. Hopefully that was not a bad omen, but Tyler had stopped believing in things like luck some time ago. He made his own luck, and he had a good feeling about this particular venture. A little time at sea, a few new connections, where could be the harm in that?

  When they reached the docks Tyler was treated to the sight of a beautiful vessel, in the dim light it seemed to be crafted of jasper and pearl. Irena stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. A rope ladder was thrown down. Tyler eyed her with jealousy; he’d always wanted to be able to whistle like that.