Nibo caught the demon and kicked it back into the arms of a partially decomposed corpse that wrapped itself around the demon, then carried the screaming ugly thing overboard and plunged them both into the turgid sea.
Within a few minutes, the demons were gone and the sea calmed down. The clouds above rolled away and parted to reveal a perfect blue sky.
Barnet opened and closed his mouth like a carp that had been hauled to land. He was even bug-eyed. After a few seconds, he shook his head. “You are a crew of the damned, aren’t you?”
Will Death gave him a bedeviled grin. “More like the undamned, if you will.”
“Pardon?”
“Long story, mate,” Bane said, coming between them. “You should probably return to your ship and calm them. As for Santiago, count us in.” The captain rushed Barnet over to swing to his boat, then turned to Bart.
“I know, Captain. One spell of forgetfulness for the humans on its way. No need in letting them have a single memory of that nonsense.” Bart passed an aggravated grimace toward Nibo.
“The correct phrase is, ‘Thank you, Nibo, for saving me sorry arse.’ And you’re not welcome.”
Bane ignored that as he approached Nibo. “How did you do that?”
He shrugged. “How does one breathe? Same principle. It’s an automatic thing that’s such a part of me I don’t even have to think about it.”
“Well, thank you.”
Nibo inclined his head.
Valynda narrowed her gaze on his crook as she finally understood why the Malachai wanted it and what he intended to do with it once he had it under his control. That was a new power that she hadn’t known about before, but given that Nibo had dominion over those who’d been lost at sea, it made sense. In the hands of the Malachai, that crook would be dangerous indeed.
She waited until the others had drifted off to leave them alone before she spoke to Nibo.
Amazed by him and his trinket, she reached out to touch his staff. He had the same feathers attached to the loop at the end that were braided into his hair. Strange how she’d never really noticed that before. “Where did you get this from?”
Nibo watched as she ran her fingers over the pale, hand-carved wood that was older than time.
He knew she’d asked him something, probably important, but honestly, he couldn’t remember it. Not while she stood this close to him and all he could think about was the endless nights when she’d stroked him with the same tenderness that she was using on his staff. Damn, it’d been so long since he last really held her in his arms.
Had felt her soft hands caressing his body as he lost himself inside her.
How he missed that. Missed the scent of lavender and roses in her hair, mixed with sea and sand. The salty taste of her skin on his lips. No woman had ever held his heart the way his Vala did.
After Aclima’s death and until the night he’d met Valynda, he’d always been afraid of any woman laying claim to him. He’d run from them as if they were lepers.
But something about her had lured him in even against his will.
Now …
“Xuri?”
“Hmmm?”
She shook her head. “Your staff. Where did you get it?”
“I carved it, long ago.”
“Really? That’s all there is to it? You made it?”
He nodded. Of course, the wood he’d used for the crook had come from the Tree of Life that his father had salvaged from the time before Xuri had been born, something he hadn’t known until the first time he’d lost one of his lambs to a ravenous wolf. Heartbroken, he’d used his staff to help gather part of the remains from where they’d been dragged out of his reach.
On his hands and knees, he’d been covered in sweat and thorns as he struggled to do right by the poor lost creature. Then, the moment his staff had touched his lamb’s leg, a strange glow had emanated over it.
An instant later, the tiny lamb had bleated and sprang back to life before rushing into his arms.
Nibo had been so stunned that for several minutes he’d been unable to move or even breathe.
When he’d rushed to tell Qeenan what magic had happened, his brother had laughed in his face. “You’re such a liar!”
“Nay, ’tis truth!”
Qeenan had slaughtered another lamb to make him prove it. That had been the first time that Nibo had realized something wasn’t quite right with his brother. That he enjoyed the killing aspect a little too much and was a little too quick to resort to violence as an answer for any of his volatile mood swings.
More to the point, that Qeenan didn’t care who or what he hurt to illustrate an issue or to get what he wanted.
That had made Nibo more determined than ever to cut his brother a wide berth, as such people were seldom reasonable. God knew that he’d never understand the cruelty of the man he’d been born with. Such things were forever beyond his comprehension. Why hurt someone when you didn’t have to? Why break their heart when it was so much easier to make them smile?
All he’d ever wanted was peace and a small corner of the earth to call his own.
Live and let live.
’Twas his nature to create and his brother’s to destroy.
“I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”
He smiled at Vala’s question. “Nay, my love. You’re the one who found me.” Kissing her scratchy straw cheek, he shrank his staff and tucked it away. “Why are you so curious?”
“Didn’t know you could do such a thing. It was quite impressive.”
He shrugged. “Necromancy isn’t as impressive as it is scary. Best to leave such things alone.” As her current plight showed.
Damn them all for what they’d done to her. Had they left her body intact, he could have saved her.
But nay, they’d burned her flesh and left him nothing to work with. No way to save her, which was why they’d done what they had. They’d been that determined to keep them apart and make sure that he couldn’t have what he wanted most.
If only he knew the correct god or creature to save her. Why was there no one who could make this right? It was so unfair.
Out of all the magic in the universe, there should have been something.
But that was the thing about injustice and cruelty. They respected no one and left no one out. Sooner or later, those bitches shit on everyone, with equal disdain.
And some days they seemed to go out of their way to cross the street, hunt him down, and take special care to make sure that they shoved a double dose of their venom down his throat.
“Nibo?”
He paused at the sound of Sancha’s voice. The tall Spanish lady was always grace and elegance, wrapped in a blanket of ever-present sorrow. Since the day he’d first met her, he’d recognized her as a kindred spirit on this earth.
“Aye, my lady?”
She glanced to Valynda and swallowed. Her eyes turned bright and glassy before she spoke in the lowest of tones. “Might I ask a bit of something?”
In his mind, he already knew her query. He saw it in the back of her eyes like a mirror playing out the horror of her past. The night the lady had come home to find her world ripped apart by its own cruelty.
Her pain reached out to him and tore a jagged hole straight through him. It was the one thing he hated most about his powers—that he could feel someone else’s anguish as much as he felt his own. That no matter how much he tried not to care, he did. He couldn’t stop it.
With a deep breath, he placed a kind hand on her shoulder. “She didn’t suffer, Sancha. Malene knows how much you loved her. She plays in a beautiful garden where she waits for the day where she may see you again so that the two of you can laugh and dance as you did when she used to cry until you picked flowers to make her a crown for her hair.”
She choked on a sob before she drew him into a tight hug. “Muchas gracias!”
Nibo rubbed her back before he nudged her toward Jake Devereaux, where her future waited, yet she had no idea just how important he wou
ld be to her, nor what their future generations would mean to the world. “Think nothing of it.”
He bit back a smile as Jake bashfully approached her to check and make sure the lady was fine.
“What are you up to?”
He caught the suspicion in Vala’s tone as she eyed him warily. “Why must I be up to anything?”
“Because you have that look about you that makes me nervous.”
“I’d rather have that look about you where you stared at me as if I were your favorite dinner.”
“Nibo …”
Before he could answer her chiding tone, Thorn joined them.
Nibo growled deep in his throat at the creature’s annoying timing. “Is there no privacy on this damn boat?”
“Not really.” Thorn slapped him on the shoulder. “One of the reasons I’m not fond of traveling by sea.”
He growled out loud. “What do you want?”
“The Malachai in chains. My father’s head on a platter and a willing woman in my bed. But at the moment, I’d settle for something as easy as you telling me what the hell are those?”
Nibo didn’t understand at first what he meant. Or that unwarranted hostile tone.
Until he looked up to see what had caused the stress in Thorn’s voice.
“Oh my God,” Valynda breathed.
“Not exactly.” Nibo cursed the sight of a million seagulls headed for them.
Granted, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but from his vantage point …
It looked like a million.
Maybe more.
As in a million had a million babies and brought their cousins, along with a few dozen friends.
“Thorn!” Bane called.
“Yeah,” he said in a dry, cold tone. “I got nothing for this, old man.”
Nibo was feeling that emotion. Especially as he saw their condition and realized that those birds weren’t alive or “normal.” These were Carrion Gulls let loose from Agiwe’s personal closet. More than that, they were soldiers in the petro army and used to frighten their enemies and those they wanted to drive toward madness.
Or those they wanted to destroy utterly.
Inside and out.
“Strixa!” Nibo summoned the water witch as a thought came to him. “Simon!” The Exú priest would be every bit as helpful as Nibo moved forward.
He turned to the water witch first. “Can you summon your Strykyn?” Black war owls, they were her children who served the god Apollo in his army. “Keep them distracted.”
“To what purpose?”
“Long enough for me and Simon to summon Exú and get a strong enough wind to drive them back and us forward.”
While they made ready for his spell, the rest of the crew threw what they had at the birds … fireballs, spears, even shoes.
Nothing daunted the skeletal gulls. Not until Simon and Nibo were able to get their chanting fired into high gear. The Strykyn appeared as bursts of lightning, out of the blue, to attack each of the gulls. They would swoop in and grab one, but for every one they took, it seemed as if there were at least four more.
Valynda watched in horror as there was nothing to be done for the mounting terror that was quickly descending on them.
Nibo’s and Simon’s deep voices circled around and around, lifting up toward the birds that shrieked as if they were in agony.
Thorn breathed in relief, as it looked like between the Strykyn owls and chanting they might be safe.
Until the chanting opened a glowing portal over the ship’s mainmast.
Nibo glanced up and winced. “Shit,” he breathed.
Valynda’s stomach churned at the sound of that single syllable.
“Shit?” Thorn repeated. “Oh hell no, Nibo, there better be no shit in this!”
“Aye,” Bane agreed. “Not unless you want to be seeking the ground for your teeth.”
He cast them both a dry, annoyed look. “Brace yourselves. There’s a lot of shit coming.”
He wasn’t exaggerating for dramatic effect, or wrong. Nibo cringed as he saw the next wave of fun that was gearing up to descend upon them. Lowering his arms, he stepped away and shook his head. “Well, that finishes me. Anyone else with any ideas? I’m quitting while I’m behind.”
Marcelina and Belle gaped at the large shadow he’d accidentally freed that moved toward them at an unholy speed. “What is that?”
Sick to his stomach, Nibo wished he didn’t know what it was he knew. More than that, he wanted to put this particular genie back in its bottle and send it home on a tidal wave. Or put them in another dimension far from it. “The Flying Dutchman.”
“The ghost ship?” Their voices assaulted him as a single unit.
“Sort of.” Nibo turned even greener around his gills as he watched it closing in on them with a speed he knew he couldn’t outrun.
“What does he mean, sort of?” Simon asked Thorn.
Kalder, still wet from his dousing and covered in his strange Myrcian markings, stepped forward to answer. “That it’s not crewed by men who were damned for their deeds. That would be us.” He jerked his chin toward the ship making fast for them. “That be crewed by the women who’ve died on the open seas who are hell-bent to make pirates pay for what was done to them. It’s why you can hear them screaming out so in the night. For they come for flesh and blood and will be satisfied with nothing less.”
He was right about that. Unholy tribute was what they were after. And not just any kind … “They feed the goddess Tiamat, who survives on violence and blood.” Nibo sighed. “She’s unleashed them on us because I opened the gate.”
Thorn applauded sarcastically. “Good job, man. Want to disembowel us while you’re at it?”
Nibo smirked at the bastard. “Well, I didn’t see you helping! And I don’t have to, since they’re here to do it for me.”
Bane whistled loudly to get their attention. “Enough! Beat each other’s arses later. Right now, we have a much more harrowing problem to solve, and I’m open to solutions.”
Bart gestured to Kalder. “Feed them a mermaid and hope that satisfies their bloodlust.”
Cameron gaped before she shielded her husband with her wings. “I think not!”
Nibo smirked. “Wouldn’t work anyway. He’s not large enough to satisfy them. He’d only whet their appetites.”
Valynda went still as she heard the voices of the crew calling out to her.
“Sister, sister, is it true?
“Tell us the name of he who betrayed you.”
Those words enchanted her like a siren’s lure. They were warm and sweet, and wrapped around her. Over and over they were repeated until they lulled her into a peculiar fog. Her entire body was numb and needing.
Valynda wanted to join them where they were. It was as if someone or something pulled her toward the sea, physically. The urge to jump in was so compelling that it was almost impossible to resist.
“Watch the women!”
Nibo looked up as he saw that Valynda wasn’t the only one being lured. Sancha, Belle, and Elyzabel, Bane’s sister, all were suddenly glassy-eyed. None seemed to have control of themselves as the Flying Dutchman’s crew sang to them, wanting them to join them for their unholy quest.
Worse? The Dark-Huntress tried to come up from belowdecks. Thankfully, Thorn saw her and rushed forward just as Janice would have stepped onto the deck and burst into flames.
Screaming, Janice fought against Thorn’s hold as she tried to get to the others. Bart captured Belle while the captain grabbed his sister. Jake picked up Sancha and Will also helped with Belle, but it was no easy feat to keep them from jumping overboard.
As was evidenced when Valynda sank her straw teeth into Nibo’s arm and drew blood. Pain exploded through his body. Damn it all!
Nothing had hurt so much since the day his brother had blindsided him with a club. Who would have thought straw teeth could be so miserable?
Yet there was no denying this!
All of a sudden, Strixa bega
n to whine. An instant later, her Strykyn began to fall from the sky. As the war owls landed on board the ship, they turned into men.
“What the hell?”
Nibo didn’t get a chance to respond. One of the “birds” fell on top of him, knocking him away from Valynda. The moment it did, Valynda dodged to the railing and jumped overboard before anyone could stop her.
“Vala! No!”
Nibo scrambled after her, but it was too late.
She was already being picked up by the ghostly crew and added to their murderous number.
Valynda floated above the planks as if she were in a dream. She hadn’t felt so disconnected from her body since the night she’d been murdered.
Bitter memories burned as she recalled that day so vividly. When she’d felt her will bend not to her own desires, but to those of another. One who’d held no love or care for her whatsoever. No regard. He’d only cared about himself and his selfish wants. It’d been the sickest kind of cruelty. To have another person seek to take away her free will and to force his desires on her. He’d been determined to make her his poppet.
Fury rose up inside her as she remembered trying to fight against it but having no ability to do so. No words could describe the helpless, hapless feeling of it. To know something was wrong and to have no one believe her, not even her own parents. No way to let others know what was going on.
She’d felt voiceless. Powerless.
Dehumanized. Even more so then than she did now as a straw doll. No one had seen her, even though she’d been right in front of them. Her soul had screamed out into the abyss and no one had heard or bothered to listen. To this day, she still didn’t know how it was that no one had noticed. How such pain could go unobserved by everyone around her when it was so blatantly obvious.
Yet it did.
Was the world really that self-absorbed?
That uncaring?
The truth was as scary as it was scarring.
And she wished to God she was as ignorant to the answer now as she’d been as an innocent, oblivious child, because the truth was that it was so much easier to pretend that the world and that people were what they should be. Fair, kind, and decent. That evil was always punished for the wrongs it did, and that good would win. She liked to pretend that that was how the universe worked. That the light would always prevail over the dark. Order would forever be restored.
At Death's Door (Deadman's Cross Book 3) Page 13
