William drew up short as he saw Thorn in the cabin. “Beg pardon for the interruption, but we’ve got a bit of a situation and wanted your input, Captain.”
Devyl let out a weary sigh. “Who has Sallie’s soul now?”
“Not that. There’s a ship approaching fast off the starboard aft. She just hoisted her colors.”
He arched a questioning brow.
William swallowed hard before he answered. “Red jack.”
A pirate flag. Take no prisoners. Show no mercy. Death to all.
No prey. No pay.
A slow smile spread across Devyl’s lips. “Slow her down, Mr. Death. Swing her about and, by all means, let the bitches catch up.”
5
Devyl stood on deck with his telescope, eyeing the approaching ship, while Thorn moved in to rest just behind him. Something the demon knew made the hairs on Devyl’s neck rise—along with his hackles. He’d never been one to stomach a friend at his back.
Never mind a former enemy who’d once lifted his sword in battle against him.
Though allies they might be today, it still didn’t erase the years they’d fought viciously to destroy each other. Nor did it lend itself to the formation of any kind of trusting bond between them.
It never would.
Devyl used his powers to check the Sea Witch’s defenses. Cannons had been rolled into position and stood ready to rain down iron hell on the approaching group. To keep his crew from spooking, he lifted his telescope to survey the sloop that was gaining on them, even though he didn’t really need it to inspect them.
With or without it, he’d have been able to catch the name of the ship that was painted next to the green mermaid figurehead.
Soucouyant.
“Avast!” he ordered Will. There was no need to blast this particular crew of pirates from the waters.
At least not quite yet.
Confused, William arched a disbelieving brow, but passed the order along without hesitation. Though it was obvious the man didn’t quite agree with it.
Devyl’s hesitation proved to be prudent when one of the Soucouyant’s crew members waved a white flag of truce over his head at the same time they lowered Captain Cross’s red jack and replaced it with a plain white flag for parlay.
Not quite trusting them, as Rafael Santiago and his pirates weren’t exactly known for their honest ways, Devyl kept his men in position, then tapped his powers again to determine the Soucouyant’s threat level. He didn’t pick up any treachery. They had yet to roll their cannons into place. And no one seemed to be scurrying about in subterfuge.
But then, one never knew for sure, and he wasn’t about to risk his ship or crew for any reason. Especially since he knew Santiago had other means of attack no one, other than he, Thorn, or Belle would see coming. Attacks his crew wouldn’t be able to defend against with traditional weaponry.
Glancing at Thorn over his shoulder, he caught the older demon’s eye. “What do you think?”
“That Santiago knows you too well to try it.”
Thorn was right about that. Firing on the Sea Witch never ended well for anyone. “Hoist the truce back, Mr. Death! Stay your positions.”
And if the pirates tried anything, he’d be feasting on more than demon blood tonight.
The thought brought a rare smile to his lips.
Please try something. He would relish a good fight.
True to his nature, the Soucouyant’s captain, Rafael Santiago, came forward to stand on top of the rail until they’d pulled up close enough that he could swing from his deck to Devyl’s.
The moment Rafael’s black boots touched their boards, Bart and Zumari flanked him. He laughed at their threatening bluster and clapped them each in turn on the back as they brought him closer to Devyl.
Even in height to Zumari, Rafael was broad shouldered and well muscled. His dark skin was covered with scrolling tattoos on both arms, his neck, and even his shaved head.
Devyl was one of the few who knew the true origins of Captain Cross, or Rafael Christoph Santiago, as he’d been named at birth. The son of Masika, a freed Ethiopian slave, and a “merchant” father, Cristóbal Cruz Gabriel Santiago, Rafe had learned the buccaneer trade aboard Captain Cris Cruz’s pirate ship at the loving hand of his beloved father. And much to his mother’s horror, it was a proud family tradition Rafe carried on, in spite of land law and common sense.
Fearless, and bold in the manner of any second-generation pirate, Rafe ignored his escorts and approached Devyl. “I knew the red jack would work to slow you down.” He winked. “You’re way too predictable, mate.”
Snorting, Devyl crossed his arms over his chest. “Hell of a gamble you made.”
“That’s what life’s all about, my friend. No risk. No reward.”
Devyl shook his head at the ever-jovial marauder, who had more bullocks than brains. “So what brought you on this suicidal quest?”
“Heard you were in these waters. Been looking for you for days now. You’re a hard crew to find.” He flashed another grin at Devyl and William. “Anyway, took something a sennight ago … Am thinking you need to see it, Devyl. It’s got your Belle written all over it. We could definitely use her expertise on this bit of cargo. And yours.”
Even more curious, he passed a questioning brow to Thorn. “Want to join us for this inspection?”
“Why not? I’m here. Better than nursing curiosity.”
Now it was Rafe’s turn to appear perplexed.
“Rafael Santiago, may I present Thorn?” Devyl stepped back so that Thorn could offer his hand to the pirate legend.
“Friend?” Rafe asked.
“More like brethren.” The snide smirk on Thorn’s face made Devyl want to knock the expression into oblivion. Especially since the bastard was currently in possession of his soul and held full control over him—two things that rankled every last bit of Devyl’s core.
Brethren, my ass. More like pox or plague on his private anatomy.
Rafe shook Thorn’s hand and stepped back. “No surname? Or is Thorn it?”
“Thorn is all anyone needs to know about me.”
“As in thorn up all our collective nether regions,” Devyl muttered.
Rafe laughed. “Understood.” He gestured toward his ship. “Gentlemen, after you.”
Devyl snorted at the invitation that could still be a trap. “I’ll pull the rear.”
Rafael gave him an exaggerated innocent stare. “What? Don’t you trust me?”
“After you took a shot at me outside that tavern last time? Nay. But don’t take it personally. I never trusted my own mother, either.”
Rafe feigned indignation. “’Twas a drunken misfire at someone else. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Until I believe you, which will be never.”
Thorn shook his head and sighed before he swung himself over to Rafe’s ship. He sent the line back for Rafe, who followed suit.
Refusing to have his hands that far away from his weapons, Devyl ignored the line when Rafe slung it to him and, with a running start and Herculean feat, jumped from his ship to Rafe’s. Something that caused an echoing gasp and ripple of stunned awe to rush through Rafe’s pirate crew.
And Devyl’s.
Especially as he rose slowly from his crouch like the predator he was and swept a weather eye around the entire group to make sure that if any treachery existed in their hearts, they rethought it fast. He was, after all, a motherless bastard who wouldn’t hesitate to lay an attacker low.
Rafe snorted with an amused smirk on his handsome face. “Always one for the grand entrance, eh, mate?”
“Benefits of a heartless reputation, and quick sword arm.”
Thorn laughed at Devyl’s surly tone as he crossed the deck to stand by his side. Though he’d never admit it out loud, he actually held a lot of respect and affinity for the giant beast of a warrior. “Heartless for you is a step up, my brother.”
And yet there had been a time in his past
As united warlords, they would have brought this world to its bloody knees and ruled every part of terra firma.
In retrospect, a terrifying thought. So thank God Bane had been born centuries later and none of Thorn’s original generals had been this fierce or capable. Or willing to slit a throat to win a battle or hold their lands.
Devyl glanced about the top deck as a strange sensation went down his spine. And this time it wasn’t from Thorn’s presence here.
Nay, there was another powerful entity here. One trying not to let him sense it and yet unable to remain hidden from him.
“So what’s this about, Santiago?”
Rafe motioned for them to follow him below.
Wary and highly suspicious, Devyl cast another jaundiced gaze around the ship and its crew before he climbed down, with Thorn right behind him.
Irritating bastard that he was.
It only took a moment for Devyl’s eyes to adjust to the darkness. But the scent down here was unmistakable.
Unique and revolting to any beast who was familiar with it.
Like dried musk, mixed with something soured. It sent a chill down his spine. He instinctively moved his hand to his sword and prepared to confront something that should be dead and buried.
Or better yet, burned beyond all recognition and scattered to the four winds so as never to rise again.
Rafe lit a lantern. “At first, we thought it a jumbie.”
“It is a jumbie.” Only this one didn’t live in a silk-cotton tree.
It was a Blackthorn. One of the deadliest of its breed.
“Dón-Dueli…” The creature’s voice was low and husky, and filled with malevolence. “Free me, my lord, and I will serve you again.”
He felt his eyes begin to turn. Something verified by the crew, who scrambled madly for the ladders to escape being belowdecks with him.
Only Rafe held his ground. “Should I ask about that?” He jutted his chin toward Devyl’s eyes.
“Not really.” Devyl paused to glance around. “Did you find anyone around it?” He inclined his head toward the demon in the cage. A demon that swayed like a tree in a breeze only it could see or feel.
“Nay. We discovered her on a ghost ship. No one was on board and no traces of the crew remained. Not even a bone fragment. We assumed they’d abandoned ship to escape her.”
They’d most likely been eaten before they had a chance to flee. Devyl winced at the poor, unsuspecting bastards’ fates.
“She seemed friendly enough at first. Told us sickness had claimed the others. Then she went for my throat … with fangs bared.”
Of course she did.
Devyl folded his arms over his chest. “How did you capture her?”
Rafe pointed to the talisman he wore on a black cord around his neck. “My mother’s protection. When she came for me, my mother’s spell knocked her out. Thank God for that. We bound her here, and haven’t gone near the cage since, except to toss food and water at her.”
Too bad that wasn’t what the creature needed to sustain her ill-begotten form.
Devyl cast his gaze to Rafael. “How is your mother?” He’d only seen her once, when Rafael had been transporting her to his home so that she could meet the pirate’s intended. And yet, she’d been a woman of extreme kindness and grace. One of the purest, gentlest souls he’d ever known.
Sadness darkened his eyes. “She took ill last winter and passed.”
Damn shame, that. The world could use more people with the integrity and decency of Santiago’s mother. “My deepest condolences.”
“Thank you.”
“Aye,” Thorn said earnestly. “Sorry for your loss.”
Rafe rubbed at his necklace. “At least I was with her at the end. And my father, as well. And it was peaceful. There are worse things in life, and I like to think she was watching over me and my crew when we came upon this creature.”
No doubt. Something exceptionally powerful had to have been protecting them. It was a rare, rare beast who encountered a hostile Deruvian and survived.
Especially when they didn’t know what they were facing and the creature had gone Winter on them—a term Devyl’s race had coined for anyone who embraced the dark ways of Marcelina’s people. Judging by this one, she’d been Winter for quite some time, too.
And having been married and bonded to one, Devyl had more experience with one in Winter than most. His stomach pitching with disgust and anger, he neared the cage where she watched him from a pair of hate-filled whisky-colored eyes. She lay in chains. Her black hair gnarled and greasy. Malnourished from her captivity, she held a grayish tint to her skin, and her veins appeared black beneath it. Thorny.
Yet even with that, her lips were a vibrant, unnatural shade of red.
“Blackthorn … where’s your partner?”
Sinister laughter answered his question. “Where is yours?”
Hissing, he rushed toward the bars, wanting to rip out her heart and eat it raw until he was whole again himself. Like her, it’d been too long since he’d fed on what sustained him, and he was starving for what he really needed.
Still, she offered him a cold smile. “Anger you, did I, Majesty?”
“Don’t play this game with me. I could use a good bonfire.” He raked her with a meaningful glare as he imagined her being consumed by the flames. That form of a death sentence for her race was what had led to the burning of witches in mankind’s history. Not knowing about the Deruvians, Christians had taken up the punishment Devyl’s people had once reserved solely for hers and used it against innocent humans. Even the test to see if witches floated in water came from the fact that Deruvian bones were made of wood, and it was how earlier human tribes had once identified her species when they didn’t have access to his people to help them determine Deruvian threat.
Foolish humans. They had no idea what they were dealing with. No idea that the only way to kill a Deruvian was to burn them completely and then scatter the charred ashes over water so that they couldn’t take root and regenerate.
Otherwise, the bastards returned even angrier and more vicious and vengeful as enemies. Not human sorcerers. Rather, preternatural creatures with powers far beyond mortal comprehension.
And if they regenerated a third time, they came back petrified as a supreme power unlike anything imaginable.
That was the last thing anyone wanted to fight or encounter. An unholy hell-beast that only those well trained could stand against or kill.
Her eyes glowing softly in the dim light, she laughed again. Until her gaze went past his shoulder to focus on the other “Thorn” in the room. That sobered her quick. “Well, well. Bedding with your enemies these days, I see. How fast the mighty do fall.”
Fuck this. He had no tolerance for her or her insults.
Stepping back with a sneer, Devyl turned to Rafael. “Take her topside and set her ass on fire. Scatter her charred and besalted ashes over the waves, far out to sea.”
With those words, he headed for the ladder.
“Druid! Wait!”
Devyl froze as she let out the one tidbit of his past he never spoke about.
To anyone.
And it sucked every bit of oxygen from the room. Only Thorn and Marcelina knew about the days he’d donned the black robes of a pagan leader and counselor.
Only they knew the cost of that particular stupidity.
He took a deep breath to control his rage, then continued on for the exit.
“Wait!” she screamed again. “I can help you!”
“Can and will are two entirely different things,” he shot over his shoulder.
“I will help you! Duel, I swear it. Please!”
He paused to look back at her. “I should believe you … why?”
“Because the Carian Gate is cracking even as we speak. More of us are being unleashed. I know you want to find it and reseal it before she is released.”
Hardly. The bitch had no real, true idea how badly he wanted Vine’s neck within his grasp. However … “I don’t need you for that.”
“But you need me to find the Seraph she holds, if you’re to free him. You’ll never find him without me. Not alive or before she turns him.”
He steeled himself to show no emotions whatsoever. To give nothing away. It was the only way when dealing with a species so treacherous and cold. “What Seraph?”
“Surely the great Dón-Dueli knows about the Seraph Vine captured.” She cackled with laughter. “Is that not what brings the great Forneus here, too?”
At the mention of Thorn’s one true demonic summoning name, Rafael crossed himself and stepped back. He paled considerably from his sudden fear of who and what Thorn really was.
Thorn went completely stiff, while Devyl held his breath at something not even he had the bullocks to do. The use of his Leucious birthname was ballsy enough and as far as he dared take insulting the demon.
After all, in life, there were some actions just not worth the gamble.
Jumping from a cliff that overlooked a raging sea and sharp rocks. Eating glass. Throwing yourself into a raging inferno inside a volcano.
Touching the Dark-Hunter Acheron on the back of his neck.
Trespassing on the Chthonian Savitar’s island without his permission.
Telling the demon Simi no when she didn’t want to hear it.
And using Thorn’s summoning name.
“Your lack of discretion is foolish,” Devyl warned her. “Were I you, I’d stop before I lose more ground and my head.”
“Is what she says true?” Rafe asked Thorn. “Are you the demon Forneus?”
Thorn passed an irritated grimace toward the pirate. “No one can help who they’re born as. But we all have a choice as to who we become, and especially in who we are. The demon Forneus died an excruciatingly long time ago, as Captain Bane can attest. I’m not the same beast who led his army of demons over the lands of man to conquer this world for his father. I’m here to make sure creatures like her mistress pay for their crimes and harm no innocent.”
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