I had no idea how long it would take for Taeral and the others to reach me. But Dom had a head start, so I had to get to him before he found them.
Unfortunately, the going wasn’t as easy as I wanted.
I’d found his trail leading away with no problem, but it kept petering out as it led me around, between, and sometimes through ships. I knew the bastard was moving far faster than me, since his path was a lot easier. He just had to keep going in a single direction and stay hidden until he spotted them. And killed them.
I hadn’t been on the hunt for long when I felt a faint tug. But this time it wasn’t in my head, like the sensation of a soul talking to me. This was more around my heart, and it didn’t hurt. It was almost soothing.
Finally, I figured out what it was. The tattoos. Protection wasn’t the only magic they contained. They also helped me enhance the Path, my sense of where I was and where I was trying to get to, so I couldn’t get lost easily. And right now, that sense was leading me toward Dom.
I hadn’t been able to feel it when I was lost and looking for the ship, thanks to the soul barrage assaulting my senses.
Now I drew a deep breath and focused on the feeling, the tug. I moved a lot faster without having to follow the circumspect route Dom was taking, but I still had my injuries slowing me down. As I picked and dragged my way through the wreckage, I listened for any sign of them. Or for more mermaids.
Finally, I heard faint voices bouncing off the canyon walls and quickened my pace. The tug of the Path had gotten stronger, and I knew that Dom had to be somewhere between me and the voices. I skirted schooners and tugboats, trying to look down every angle and into every shadow for the last remaining threat.
I realized eventually that I’d been walking a lot longer than I should have been. I could still hear voices, and they were getting louder. But the tug seemed to be getting weaker now, and I couldn’t figure out why.
Then I rounded the rotting remains of a two-masted wooden sloop and saw them ducking beneath the hull of an ocean liner. Taeral and Sadie in the lead, followed closely by Alex and Junkyard. I waved like a lunatic and hurried toward them, a shout of greeting on my lips.
Taeral saw me first and started walking faster, his long legs carrying him easily ahead of the rest. “Gideon!” he called as he approached, passing a long wooden ship that looked almost like the Nostradamus except for the lack of mermaid on the prow. “I’d not expected to find you alone, but this is a welcome surprise.”
Watch out! Low Tide screamed in my head without warning, and blood gushed immediately from my nose. Dom’s on the deck of that galleon!
Gritting my teeth, I looked up and saw a quick flash of light through glass that had to be Dom sighting his scope. “Taeral, your left!” I shouted. “On the deck!”
Without even checking to see what I was talking about, Taeral whirled left and gestured up at the ship. “Míilé brihs!” he snarled.
A thousand knives. Ouch.
There was a wrenching scream as the figure on the deck lurched upright and staggered. I was already running, pulling the gun from my waistband as Dom hit the deck railing and flipped over, screaming as he fell.
Before I could get my finger on the trigger, Taeral drew the semi that Kjell had been holding on them earlier and shot Dom twice before he hit the ground.
At least he’d stopped screaming.
“I totally had that,” I panted as I slowed my sprint to a jog, and then stopped next to Taeral.
He looked at me and shook his head. “You know I’m a far better shot than you, brother,” he said, just before a grin split his face and he grabbed me in a hug. “Thank the gods you’re alive, Gideon, but … why are you half naked?”
“For protection,” I said, pointing at the newest tattoos, the stronger magic. “That’s how I took Mr. Wilt down.”
“Aye, Cobalt’s magic. I’d nearly forgotten that,” he said, stepping back just as Sadie caught up to him. “So he was the last, then?”
“Yeah, we’re safe from Milus Dei now,” I said. “But maybe not from mermaids or getting off the bottom of the ocean.”
“Who gives a damn? All that matters is you’re not dead.” Sadie put her arms around me, and I was careful to only hug her back a little in case Taeral got bent out of shape. “But you look awful, Gideon.”
“Wow, thanks.” I flashed a sardonic grin. “Same to you. Listen, I still have a little bit of charge in the moonstone, so I can probably heal someone a little. Which one of you feels like you’re going to die first?”
Taeral laughed. “We’ll live a while yet,” he said. “I’ve removed the bullet from Sadie, and those dogs had smuggled the rest of my wine down here with them, so I’ve had two bottles. I believe we’re both in better shape than you.”
“Gideon?” someone said in a strangled voice.
I turned to find Alex and Junkyard a few feet away, staring at me. And it wasn’t just the bruising and the blood. They were getting an eyeful of my lovely lifetime of scars, so many that I could’ve gotten myself inked solid and they’d still be obvious.
“Yeah, that’s still my name,” I said with a smirk as I loosened the coat tied around my waist and started putting it back on. It didn’t bother me as much anymore to have people stare at my scars, but it was still awkward. Plus, it was cold down here. “I hope you guys are okay for a long walk, because—”
“Oh my God, you’re bleeding,” Sadie interrupted, pointing at my leg. “Like, a lot.”
I shook my head. “Are any of us not bleeding right now? I’ll be fine,” I said.
“What happened?” Taeral demanded. “Were you shot with cold iron?”
“Nah. A mermaid bit me.”
Alex was coming toward me, shaken but determined, with Junkyard at her heels. “What did they do to you?” she said hoarsely as she stopped in front of me, searching my face. “God, this is all my fault. I should’ve seen there was something wrong with them…”
“Alex.” I waited until she looked at me. “This is absolutely not your fault,” I told her, gently but firmly. “Infiltration is Milus Dei’s specialty. They’ve been doing it for a long time, and with groups a lot tougher to crack into than a single ship’s crew. Like, for example, the FBI and the NSA.”
She blanched. “These people, whoever they are. They’re working in the government?”
“Yeah, and not just ours. All over the world,” I said. “They’re huge, they’re smart, and they’re dangerous. You couldn’t have stopped them, even if you knew they were plants.”
She started to nod, but then her eyes brimmed with tears. “They killed Low Tide,” she whispered. “I couldn’t save him.”
Hey, tell her I’m fine with being dead. No grudges here.
I almost choked on a laugh as Low Tide spoke. “Don’t worry. He says he’s fine with being dead and he’s not holding a grudge.”
Her mouth dropped open, and Junkyard stepped up next to her. “Uh, are you saying Low Tide told you that?” he said. “Pretty sure he didn’t know they were going to blow his brains out.”
“You’re right. He didn’t know that,” I said. “I’m saying he told me that just now.”
“Wait, he’s talking to you?”
Tell Junkyard that I’m the one who stole his porn stash and plastered the pinups all over the crew room, not Kjell.
This time I did laugh as I relayed the message.
Junkyard’s neck flushed red. “You asshole,” he said, looking in every direction like he was trying to spot where Low Tide was hiding. “I beat the hell out of him for that. But in hindsight, the bastard had it coming.” His brow furrowed as he looked at me. “How are you doing that, anyway? Talking to Low Tide.”
“He is the DeathSpeaker,” Taeral said as he moved toward us with an urgent expression. “And he’s not much time left before he shuts down completely. Correct me if I’m wrong, Gideon, but I believe those protective spells of yours activate only when you are critically injured.”
I sighed.
“You’re not wrong. But—”
“But nothing. I can heal you, to some extent. Do not protest, or I will knock you out myself and heal you anyway.”
“Look, I know how you’re powering yourself right now,” I said. “And I know any spell you use is going to hurt like hell.”
“Aye, it will. Yet it’ll hurt far less than watching you die in this miserable place, and then dying myself because I failed to keep my promise,” he said with a smirk. “Now hold still and be healed, damn you.”
“Fine. I’m holding still.”
He extended a hand toward me, and I felt the soothing light of the magic flow through my veins, easing some of the pain. Taeral was shaking with effort by the time he gave up and staggered back, wincing with every movement. I wasn’t healed completely, but the throbbing pain in my leg was manageable and my headache was gone. Everything else just ached.
“Thank you,” I said, reaching out for Taeral. “Are you okay?”
He waved me off and shook his head. “Fantastic. By the way, do we have anything resembling a plan to get out of this place that doesn’t involve standing around here, waiting for a miracle?”
“No, we don’t, but I know someone who might’ve had an escape plan,” I said with a grin. “And now that he’s dead, he’s gonna have to share it with me.”
CHAPTER 27
This time I barely had to pay attention to where I was going. The Path was still guiding me, but I didn’t have much trouble retracing my steps back to Mr. Wilt. I even managed to retrieve my improvised mermaid-sticker from the dead mermaid on the way so I could use it as a crutch, since my leg had started approaching a scream again with the extended walk.
Of course, it’d be a lot harder figuring out where to go after we reached Mr. Wilt. But I’d worry about that after I interrogated the dead bastard.
We’d taken the rifle, the handgun, and the duffel bag off Dom’s corpse. I was glad to retrieve my blades from the bag and turn over the cold iron gun to Alex. I wasn’t worried about her shooting me or Taeral anymore. I just didn’t want to hold the damned thing — and besides, she might end up having to blast a few mermaids along the way.
Alex walked with me at the front of the line, with Junkyard behind us and Taeral and Sadie bringing up the rear. “So, uh,” she said after a while. “These Milus Dei guys. You must’ve fought them before. Did they do … all that, to you?”
It took me a few seconds to figure out she meant my scars. “No, not really. Most of that was somebody else,” I said, not wanting to get into the whole Valentine mess with her. “And it was a long time ago.”
She nodded and frowned slightly, considering something that she must’ve decided not to say. “I guess it’s bad enough what Mr. Wilt and Dom did to you,” she said as she glanced aside at me. “Um, I think your nose is still bleeding. Here,” she said, producing a cloth bandanna from a pocket.
“Thanks. Yeah, it’s probably going to bleed for a while.” I wiped away what I could and pinched the bridge of my nose for a few seconds, trying to stop the trickle. “That one isn’t actually their fault, though,” I said. “It’s what happens when I talk to the dead, and I don’t have any magic to help me.”
Alex stared at me. “Talking to dead people makes your nose bleed?”
“Yup. My ears too, sometimes,” I said. “And it gives me a splitting headache.”
“Wow.” She smirked. “Being the DeathSpeaker sucks.”
I burst out laughing. “It kinda does,” I said. “But not always.”
“Gideon…” Her smile faded slowly. “Have you ever talked to my — I mean, our mother?”
Damn. I really didn’t want to talk about that. Because if I said yes, she’d know that Jessamyn had never mentioned her to me. If she had, I would’ve known I had a sister and went looking for her long before now.
“Maybe you shouldn’t answer that question,” Alex said, as if she was reading my mind. “Besides, you don’t have to say it, because I can see it on your face. She never said anything about me.”
“Alex, I’m sorry. If I had any idea—”
“No. Please, don’t be sorry.” She flashed a small smile. “You’re not her, and I’m glad we met. I just wish it hadn’t happened like this.”
“What, you mean while being shanghaied by a bunch of cultists and stuck at the bottom of the ocean, with mermaids trying to eat us?” I said. “Yeah, me too. Pretty much anything that wasn’t this would’ve been cool.”
“Hey, speaking of being stuck here,” Junkyard said tentatively from behind me. “I get that you can talk to dead people, I guess. But how are you gonna get Mr. Wilt to tell us the way out? I mean, they were just going to kill us all, and I don’t think he’ll decide to be helpful after you shot him to death.”
I shrugged and glanced back at him. “The thing is, the dead can’t lie to me,” I said. “They don’t like it most of the time, but if I ask a question, they have to answer truthfully.”
“Really? That’s … so fucking weird. But it’s kind of cool, too,” he said, and then his expression brightened. “Hey, can you make Low Tide tell me where he stashed that bottle of Glenfiddich we picked up in Trinidad that one time? He kept saying he was saving it for a special occasion, but we never … oh. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore,” he said as his face fell. “The ship’s trashed.”
“Hey, but we’re still alive,” Alex said, patting Junkyard’s arm. “And it was just a ship.” Her pained expression made a lie of the words, but she averted her gaze from the first mate so he couldn’t see it.
“Yeah, but—”
“Tell you what,” I said, feeling terrible after seeing just how badly she was hurt by losing the Foxtrot. “If we ever see the sky again, I’ll buy you a new ship.”
Alex gave a genuine laugh. “I may hold you to that.”
“Gideon, how much further is this body?” Taeral called from the back. “Sadie is exhausted, and she must rest soon.”
“No I’m not, you jackass!” Sadie hissed. “You’re the one who’s still poisoned.”
“I’ve told you I’m fine, love,”
“Yeah, sure you are. Green is your natural color.”
“It is actually more of a blue-green. And unless you are naturally the color of paste—”
“All right!” I yelled back to them with a laugh. “I remember this weird, pointy ship right here. He should be just around it.”
Sure enough, Mr. Wilt’s body was on the ground behind the pointy ship.
Or at least what was left of it, after the mermaids got through with him.
Alex made a thick sound, deep in her throat, and turned away fast. Junkyard stopped short and stared at the scattered pile of bloody bones with a few chunks of meat clinging to them here and there. “Erg,” he said as the color drained from his face. “Can you still talk to him like that?”
“Yeah, I can. Unfortunately.” I moved slowly toward the savaged remains and shuddered at the thought of touching any part of that. But with my spark running on fumes, I needed the boost of direct contact.
“I really hate mermaids. And Chester,” I heard Sadie say behind me.
I turned toward her and Taeral. “I haven’t seen any since the bunch that attacked us, when you guys thought they were shooting me,” I said.
“We’ve not seen a single one inside the barrier.” Taeral edged closer to the body. “Perhaps this was a lone creature, scavenging?”
I nodded. “Probably. I think they’re scared of us, now that they know we can kill them. And their numbers aren’t enough to swarm us in here,” I said. “Still, I think it’s better if you guys stand watch while I talk to this asshole.”
“Aye, we’ll do that. Does everyone have a weapon?” Taeral said.
Only Junkyard didn’t, so Taeral gave him the scope rifle we’d taken from Dom. And I crouched beside Mr. Wilt’s bloody, stripped skull, reluctantly placing a hand on the dome. “All right, you son of a bitch. Let’s have a chat,” I said. “We’ll start with an easy one.
Who are you working for?”
Milus Dei, Mr. Wilt snarled in my head, tugging so hard it felt like a bunch of forks stuck in my gray matter. I’ve been eaten by fucking mermaids.
“Yeah, I can see that. I guess you’re gonna have a closed casket funeral,” I said. “Oh, wait. You don’t get a funeral.” If he wanted to be pedantic, I could play the specific-question game. “What is the name of the person who sent you on this mission?”
He struggled hard not to answer and managed to burst a blood vessel in my nose before he spat out a name. Dante.
“Who the hell is Dante?”
I hadn’t meant to ask like that, but he answered anyway. The head of Milus Dei.
“You mean the whole thing? The big boss?”
Yes, you insufferable fuckstick!
Oh, good. He’d caught on to adding extra words to his answers. Still, he’d given me a huge piece of information that I never thought he’d have, and I needed to find out all I could about the big boss. “Where is Dante?” I said.
I don’t know. No one knows.
“How do you communicate with him?”
He calls me.
“What’s his number?”
I don’t know, goddamn it!
“All right,” I said, sighing as I braced myself for an extended bout of pain. “What do you know about Dante?”
He’s the head of Milus Dei. He kills freaks. He kills people who fail their missions. And he’s going to kill you.
Every word sliced at me, and the last statement chilled my heart. “What does he know about me?”
Everything.
That couldn’t be right. I refused to believe it. The dead couldn’t lie to me, but they spoke the only truths they knew. This Dante guy probably told his people that he knew everything about me because I kept getting away from them, and he didn’t want them to think he couldn’t handle one lousy freak.
“Okay, Mr. Wilt. Why does Dante want the Scrolls of Gideon?”
Because they contain the formula to create the Perfect Man.
That didn’t sound good. “What is the Perfect Man?”
I don’t know.
“What else do the scrolls contain?”
The Scrolls of Gideon (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 7) Page 12
