The Jinxed Pirate (Graylands Book 2)

by M. Walsh

  Seria and Troa shared a look, and it told him all he needed to know.

  “Word has been spreading from Seba,” said Troa, his voice low. In all the years Lock had known him, he’d never heard him sound so sorrowful. “There was some sort of riot—although it sounds more like a war. Details are confused.”

  “Some say the Goblins there went mad,” Seria said. “Others say there was some kind of mutiny or insurrection. Krutch Leeroy is believed to have been involved. There’s even been word of an Elder Demon.”

  “Whatever the case,” Troa continued. “The only consistent news is Seba burned. Hundreds, perhaps more, are dead.” He paused to share another mournful look with Seria. “It’s been almost two weeks, and we haven’t gotten any word from your brother. I’m sorry, Lockhart, but I fear … Deckard is probably … and your sister …”

  He trailed off, and for the first time Lock could remember, he saw Troa Veltaishi weep. Seria joined her brother and hugged him. He listened to their quiet sobbing and felt a pain in his heart far worse than anything the Jackal could’ve done to him. But he did not cry.

  Troa and Seria sat at either side of him and took his hands in condolences. Troa was grimacing and appeared to be in physical pain. Seria caressed Lock’s hair, looking sad and motherly. She didn’t speak, but he saw everything she felt in her eyes. The reality he might—

  (would)

  —never see his older brother or younger sister again sank in. He would never see Deck’s steely, determined face. Never hear his confident encouragement. He would never see Cassie’s blue eyes or listen to her babbling gossip he didn’t care about.

  But he still would not cry.

  “I’m going to Seba.”

  Forcing the words out, the pain in his stomach was agony, but he ignored it. His voice was hoarse, strained, and barely audible—but it was there. Troa and Seria looked at him in disbelief.

  “Save your strength,” Seria whispered.

  “Lockhart,” said Troa. “I understand if—”

  “I’m going to Seba,” he repeated, his voice getting stronger. “If my brother and sister are alive, I am going to find them. If they’re dead, I’m going to find out why.”

  Troa and Seria shared another glance. They both looked as though they wanted to dissuade him or write his declarations off as grief. But they heard his tone, and he saw understanding come to both of them. He would not ask either to join him, but knew they would.

  “And if they are dead,” he added. “I will avenge them.”

  * * *

  The following morning, Big Jim Wallace made his son a large breakfast. He looked older and haggard, but treated Jimmy with warmth. His usual boisterous demeanor was subdued. Afterward, they went for a walk outside Madoc and talked.

  Lily kept her distance. She wasn’t sure how much, if anything, Big Jim remembered, but chose not chance it. The anger and ambition was still there, but something was different. She sensed regret and love in his heart. She couldn’t hear what was said between father and son, but Jimmy was smiling and they embraced.

  She was not so naïve as to think a man could change overnight, but it was a start. She didn’t know if Big Jim’s change would last or if his relationship with his son would improve. It wasn’t her place to hover over them and interfere. But she saw he was going to try. It wasn’t perfect, but humans weren’t—it’s what made them so.

  Dust was wrong. Good and evil, the Light and the Black—whatever they were—to be one or the other didn’t make her kind superior. For all his talk of how humans were beneath them, it was their capacity to be both that made them evolved. And if she really was some next step for demons, as he believed, all that meant was she wanted to be more human.

  The morning air was crisp and clear. All over Madoc, Lily sensed an intangible relief, as if everyone had woken from a troubled sleep. After the Wallaces, she checked on the girl she saved from Ashe and was happy to find she would recover.

  There was much talk about the carnival. The melted remains of the reavers burned with the rest, leaving the town to wonder what had happened during the night. The fire was a mystery, but no one seemed terribly concerned about it. Without fully understanding why, the people of Madoc were glad to be free of Dust & Shade’s Carnival.

  As she left town, though, Lily was struck by a stirring in the Black. For a moment she thought it was a surviving reaver, but it was something very different. Something older and it seemed to be coming from far away. Somewhere in the south …

  It gave her a chill, but she ignored it and pressed on—back to the Graylands. Back to being a drifter, where she would try to live as best as she could. She was a demon, and by being one, an “evil” creature, whatever that truly meant. But she could still do what was right. She would try to be better. That would have to be enough.

  At least she hoped.

  Epilogue

  It is a damn fine feeling when things come together.

  Seba burned for two days and nights like a massive torch in the middle of the desert. Black clouds engulfed the plateau and surrounding districts, which struck me as an appropriate vision of the city.

  I had found a way-station with a bar a few miles south and watched the fire from there. Despite the watered down liquor, I savored the view and basked in the satisfaction of a job well done.

  After my fun with the crew of the Kraken, I lurked around Seba on the lookout for a project, although I found myself somewhat spoiled for choice. Slave-traders, murderers, rapists … like a child in the proverbial candy store, I had so many options before me, I found myself hard-pressed to choose just one.

  Slitting someone’s throat in the middle of the street is entertaining in its own simple way, but satisfying the Itch requires something particular. I decided my project in Seba would have to be someone truly worth my while. And it was around this time I started hearing about some mythical “big fish” in Seba. He dwelled in the tower in Mannix Square and ran the city like his own personal kingdom.

  A tempting prospect, but one that would require patience and planning. So to pass the time, I amused myself in Gain until I crossed paths with the Ghost Princess herself. I suspected she would be an entertaining diversion, but I never thought her goals would coincide with mine. But it’s a funny, serendipitous world we live in. Between her and the antics of good ol’ Krutch Leeroy, I found my chance to catch the big fish.

  And what do you do with big fish? You gut him.

  The fact Sebastian Clock’s demise should lead to Seba’s complete unraveling was a pleasant bonus. I suppose, in a way, the entire city was my project, and I’d be lying if I said watching it eat itself didn’t make me feel warm in my guttiwutts.

  A part of me was curious if Lamont would bother trying to help—be it her boyfriend or civilians. She had the hate in her—I knew that from the moment I met her. Hell, I knew it when I saw her on the Blind Cliffs. She’s got an ugliness in her I’ve rarely seen except in monsters like me.

  But for all that, she still had the hero streak and those incessant morals that go along with it. I don’t see her rushing off to save the world anytime soon, but when push comes to shove or she feels backed against the wall, she seems compelled to do (or attempt) the “right” thing, whatever that may mean.

  I had no particular investment in her existential crisis, but it’s a rare thing to find someone so genuinely conflicted about their hate. I found our time together entertaining. Perhaps we’ll meet again. But I think I can stand only so much companionship at a time.

  “It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?”

  Standing next to me, also watching Seba smolder, was a young woman with golden blonde hair and green eyes.

  “Indeed it is,” I said.

  She had a look on her face I couldn’t quite read. I make a point of studying how the normals interact with one another—it helps me go unnoticed—but this girl was looking at me in a way I couldn’t discern.

  “My name’s Audra,” she said. “Audra Fay.”

>   “Good for you.”

  I returned inside the bar for a drink. Audra followed and sat beside me. She smiled at me, looking like a cat eying its prey. It was a look I didn’t care for—especially since it was directed at me.

  “Can I help you?”

  “You came from Seba, right?” she asked. “You were there?”

  “I was.” I noted the sword strapped to her back, along with scrapes and bruises all over her body, and added, “I take it you were, too.”

  “I was,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  I was somewhat perplexed by the awe in her voice, but I couldn’t say I disagreed with her. “It’s a rare thing,” I said. “Watching a city self-destruct.”

  She smiled and shifted her seat closer to mine. I glanced at her and at last realized what the look in her eyes was. She was attracted to me. As appalling as it might seem, for some reason I couldn’t fathom, she … wanted me.

  “Why do you do it?” she asked.

  “Do what..?”

  “Kill.”

  I don’t like being caught off guard, but I must admit this girl had me at something of a disadvantage. My first instinct was to cut her throat right there, but there was something in her eyes that gave me pause.

  “Um,” I said, rather dumbly. “It’s just something I do.”

  Her face lit up, as if I had said something profound. “You mean,” she said. “You just … kill people..? Just to do it?”

  “Sort of..?”

  She moved closer, pressing her body against mine. I could feel the warmth coming off her. She gazed into my eyes with her shining greens and looked at me as though I was some kind of god.

  I found it distressing.

  “What’s it like..?” she said. “To just … to just kill for the thrill of it?”

  My discomfort faded as I thought back to the numerous projects I’ve had throughout my life. Dozens of playmates I’d selected for my special sessions, and the special, Special Moments I shared with each one them.

  I remembered Sebastian Clock pleading for me to stop, even when it was clear there was no coming back from what I did to him … Candi, as she watched me skin Styx alive before I did the same to her … Jacob Daredin … Burke Zell … Theodore Solomon … so, so many others …

  And just like that, I forgot I was sitting in a dingy saloon with some bizarre young woman clinging to my side. I was lost in a grand sea of ecstasy and joy no poet could describe.

  From atop my blissful cloud, I believe I said, “It’s like nothing else.”

  I’m not used to talking about myself to people, but Audra took great interest in my hobbies. I didn’t go into detail, but I think she could tell the mere recollection of my projects put me in a happy place from which she wished to be a part of.

  Because of my sudden blissful state, I didn’t question much as she led me to her room.

  * * *

  Audra was talking. Audra talked a lot.

  I’ve always found sex an overrated thing. I know most normals live and die because of the silly, sweaty act—but I’ve never seen the great appeal. I know for some who share my hobbies, the act of killing is in some way related to it.

  I remember one of my projects was a guy who could only get it up after he cut a woman’s head off. Hell if I know how or why the two were related. There was another who couldn’t get it up at all, so his killing was the only way he could vent. Stupid and petty … but I at least could comprehend that.

  I myself have never felt a link. On the occasion I need to get my rocks off, I’m content to rent a whore at some brothel and move on with my life.

  I did once consider—when I was young and coming to understand my impulses—that maybe the reason I felt the Itch was because I wasn’t being satisfied in bed. But alas, whether it was with a woman or man, it made no difference. It didn’t quench my need, and my Special Moments did nothing for my libido. Ultimately, sex for me was just a bodily function—no different than taking a piss or a shit.

  Audra was enjoyable enough. She was zesty, energetic, and eager to please. I thought when we finished we would go our separate ways, but she decided it was time to snuggle and chat.

  “My father,” she began, “was a noble Lord. He had a very … narrow outlook on the roles of men and women in society.”

  I didn’t care, so I said nothing.

  “To the honorable Lord Fay,” she continued. “A true man is one of honor and strength. A knight who faces his enemy with steel and preserves the status quo. And a woman’s place is to be a man’s Lady. She is quiet and demure and shrivels at the mere thought of battle. That was proper order, he would say.

  “And maybe once, I might’ve believed him. But that changed the day Jareth Carter came to my home. Have you ever heard of him?”

  I did know him. He wound up a project.

  “They say he was mentored by Roderick Bane,” she said. “He was a great warlord with dark power. He attacked my home, and just like that, everything my father believed fell apart. Those so-called brave heroes were nothing to Carter. All my father’s talk of honor and order shattered to pieces before his power.

  “And the best part..? My father had nothing he wanted. He took some gold, but nothing essential. I wasn’t taken hostage or anything. Carter did it just because he could.”

  I wasn’t paying attention.

  “That was the day I learned,” she said, looking at me. “True power isn’t old men sitting on their thrones, armored in the illusion of order. The real world is chaos. It’s random and unpredictable and dirty. Freedom—true freedom—is tearing down the system and watching it burn.”

  I assumed this was her point, but failed to see what any of it had to do with me.

  “I saw you,” she said. “I know you were the one who killed Sebastian Clock.”

  That was unfortunate.

  “I saw you in the Tombs,” she said. “Then I saw you sneaking out of Clock’s tower and dump something in the moat. After that, word started going around Clock was gone. It was you, wasn’t it? You killed Sebastian Clock!”

  Once again, I found myself at a loss, and it was a feeling I didn’t care for. Before I could say anything, she straddled me and seemed to be getting ready for another round.

  “I thought I had found someone who understood,” she said, kissing me. “But I was wrong. He was no different than the rest. Now I’ve found you. I know you’re the one I’ve been looking for all this time.”

  I stared at her, unable to find words.

  “You see, don’t you? We belong together. We’re soulmates …”

  We had sex again, although my participation was minimal. When she was finished, Audra fell asleep beside me, but I lied awake for much of the night. I listened to her light breathing, and that word kept repeating in my mind.

  Soulmates..?

  * * *

  I did doze off and awoke the following morning with that word echoing from my dreams. For a moment, I thought it had been a dream, when Audra returned to the room with a swing in her step. Her good cheer displeased me.

  “Morning, boss,” she said, sitting on the bed. “I was wondering: where are we going from here?”

  We..?

  “I don’t know what’s south of here,” she continued. “But if we head north, I can think of a few places we might find some fun.”

  I had been planning to go south, but I was in no mood to disclose that information. I put my clothes on while Audra resumed talking about nothing. I found my pair of bladed-tonfa, and it was getting difficult to not just let Walter and Randall do their work. Audra did vex me, but it seemed beneath me to kill her for that.

  I went downstairs, planning to make a decision after I ate. Unfortunately, given the way-station’s location, there wasn’t much of a selection. The owner only got some scraps from whatever ships happened to stop going up or down the strait. With a heavy heart, I accepted a pitiful breakfast of rubbery beef and watery eggs.

  “What’s wrong, boss?”
Audra asked, seeing my sullen mood. “You seem out of it?”

  Why is she calling me boss?

  “Well,” she said, chewing on her food. “The food does leave a lot to be desired. More reason to head north, I think.”

  “I keep thinking about last night,” I said. “You claimed we were … soulmates … yes..? How do you figure that?”

  “I know you didn’t kill Sebastian Clock for money,” she said. “Otherwise, word would’ve gotten out or someone would’ve taken credit. You did it because you could. And I know you were happy about what happened to Seba after. I saw it in your eyes yesterday.”

  It was around this point my irritation with Audra turned into utter hatred.

  “I want the same thing,” she said, leaning close. “I want to tear down bastards like Clock and Krutch Leeroy and watch everything crumble in my wake. I’m like you.”

  “Don’t act like you know me.”

  “I’ll admit, I don’t have much experience,” she said, not realizing how close to death she was. She took my hand and continued, “But you can teach me. You and me, together, and to hell with the rest of them.”

  I must’ve been doing a good job keeping my face straight because Audra didn’t notice how much I hated her. Genuine emotion is an uncommon thing for me. Usually everything is dulled and muted, and I rarely feel such a blind compulsion for blood. But with every word that came out of her mouth, I wanted to strike her dead right there.

  “I’ll show you,” she said with a wink.

  She took a knife from the table and strolled to the way-station’s owner. He had a moment to register what was coming before she stuck the knife into his throat. The fat man’s skin turned white as he sank to the floor, and Audra hacked away. She might have been trying to cut his head off, but settled for turning his neck into a waterfall of blood.

  Her hands completely red, she turned to me with a mad spark in her eye. She was smiling and looked like she was expecting applause or for me to embrace her in my arms and kiss her.

  “Don’t you see,” she said. “You and me against the world! We’ll take what we want from whomever we want and leave the rest to burn!”