Iron Pirate (The Deviant Future Book 5)

by Eve Langlais

  Shereen sprinted to the balcony and turned to wait for her father, but he wasn’t joining her. A watery strand snaked from the fountain, drawing from the reserve down below. It wrapped around her waist, a wet tentacle that lifted her from the floor.

  Tears in her eyes, Shereen whispered to her father, “No. I don’t want to say good-bye.”

  “You have to.”

  She felt his love for her in the quick determination of the watery arm that turned into a wave. It arced from the balcony and fell down, rushing her with it, and she could only pray she wouldn’t actually hit the ground. She preferred to not end up as tenderized meat.

  She closed her eyes. Waited for impact.

  Didn’t die.

  The water rebounded from the ground and kept her aloft. She coasted along. Voices shouted out in alarm as the mini tidal wave rushed down the streets. Her father must have dropped his shield to pour this much power into helping her escape.

  She had a moment to wonder where it took her when the wave collapsed. No warning, just a sudden splat on the ground where she lay blinking wet lashes. With a painful jolt, she realized her father was dead. Her breath caught in a hitching sob. Then another as the impossibility of her situation hit.

  “I’m all alone.”

  She didn’t realize she said it aloud until a gruff voice said, “No, ye ain’t.”

  Chapter 2

  Alone once more on his ship, Darius was done socializing. No more guests for a while.

  After the week he’d had—his niece going missing, abdicating the responsibility his brother tried to give him, and barely escaping a city in the midst of a revolution—Darius needed some quiet.

  A shame he couldn’t just drop anchor somewhere and enjoy a moment of nothingness. The oceans didn’t encourage that kind of behavior. A ship always had to be moving unless in a protected bay, and even then, there were no guarantees. He still recalled the Bay of Lords—which oddly had more ladies. A Krakus had destroyed the entire dock and warehouse area not even a year ago, and then there were the Isles of Song. More than one sailor drowned himself because of the melodies that haunted through them.

  Once he dropped off his brother—His Majesty Roark the First of the Marshlands, and a decent dude if a bit too serious—Darius headed to the nearest island, promising his crew a few days at dock. Maybe while he was there, he’d inquire about the latest news from Port City, the one he’d barely managed to flee.

  Last he’d heard, the king was dead and the princess was accused of murdering him, which Darius was skeptical about. He’d met the meek girl some time ago. He doubted her ability to wield a butter knife let alone one sharp enough to stab.

  True or not, it caused chaos, or so he heard over some ale in the Sloppy Mug Tavern while they were docked at the Isle of Teeth. The jagged rocks did appear oddly like some dentition, the ivory color especially odd. He’d once heard a story from an old man that they lived in the jaws of some great sleeping creature and one day it would wake up and swallow them whole. Darius made it a point to never stay long, but he did always stop in for a few drinks. Best place to catch up on the news.

  According to every sailor and traveler who gladly accepted a tankard of the finest grog in exchange for information on the Sapphire port city, there’d been an uprising. Infighting with the Enclave at first, and then the effect rippled outward. There was civil unrest, and while no violence yet, it simmered under the surface.

  The princess remained missing. Probably for the best. Even if she hadn’t killed her father, having her around would be an issue if the rumors were true.

  Apparently, the princess had no power. It had skipped her despite blessing the king with a mighty water gift. A queen with no magic couldn’t possibly rule the most powerful city on the continent and a crucial port when it came to travel. By the time the longer faring ships reached Sapphire, they were in dire need of repairs and food. The world was a hard place.

  Even harder for a princess with no special ability. It appeared certain factions wanted to ensure she was dead and offered a bounty on her.

  “There’s actually three offers for the princess.” The one-eyed man, whose hands ended in suckers, eagerly spilled everything he’d heard for the full-sized tankard of ale Darius bought.

  “Three? That many people want her dead?” Darius questioned.

  “Only one of the bounties says dead or alive. It’s not the best paying one either. The prize for the one that delivers her alive to the Marsh king is twice the amount and comes with a house in the Marsh city of Eden. I hear it’s a paradise,” the sailor said wistfully.

  “It is,” Darius agreed. He’d seen Eden more than a few times. Admired what had been done. His brother Roark had built Eden from the ruins of a place long gone, creating a new kingdom to rival the Enclave ones and gave its citizens freedom and justice. “What’s the third bounty?” he asked, having only heard about two thus far.

  “The third one is the most tempting of all.” The sailor leaned forward, his nose flat, the nostrils prominent. The single eye had yet to blink. It had no need given the membrane covering it kept it moist. “They’re offering ten bags of Toxic Dust.”

  “Ten?” Fuck. People would sell out their own family for that kind of wealth.

  “But only if she’s alive.”

  Meaning they had some vile purpose for her. “Who’s making the bargain?” He wondered who had access to that kind of dust. The drug, valuable because of its euphoric attributes, had pretty much dried up when the Emerald queen died. She’d taken the secret of its location with her.

  “It’s being handled by a broker. The Ghost.”

  The most private broker for misdeeds in all the world. He resided on the pleasure island of Tawa.

  “So the deal is to find the princess and drop her off to collect the reward?”

  The sailor eagerly nodded. “We are heading out in the morning to look for her.”

  “You have a clue as to her location?”

  “Only that everyone’s been looking and not found anything. They think she left on a ship after she killed her father.”

  “You actually think she murdered him?” Darius remembered the fondness between the king and princess the one time he’d seen them together at a ball. Not one he was invited to, but given it was a masquerade, he came to enjoy how the Enclave lived. He could see the allure. The food was insanely good.

  “For ten bags of dust, I don’t care,” snorted the sailor.

  Darius could understand the reaction. The prize being offered was tempting even to someone rich like him.

  As his ship left the Isle of Teeth, he moved his thoughts from the poor doomed princess to ponder the fate of the port city. How would it fare given the Enclave fought amongst each other as to who would take over? It seemed not all were in agreement that the duke should become the next king.

  The citizens down below wanted nothing to do with the Enclave power struggle and declared the Sapphire city a democracy. They wanted to vote for who would be in charge. Which led to even more fighting. Nothing too deadly as yet, mostly protests and boycotts. But the lack of casualties wouldn’t last. Something would explode.

  Not a man who enjoyed politics, Darius made the decision to remain far, far away from the unrest. Far away from his brother and his kingdom, and the niece who suddenly spouted prophecies.

  There was nothing more uncanny than a seven-year-old girl looking a man dead in the eye and declaring, “You’re going to be important someday.”

  “I already am,” Darius had boasted. People knew his name and that of his ship.

  “Bigger than that. As important as my daddy, and you’re going to give up the Ocean Avenger to live on land.”

  At that he choked. “Never.” Ever. He might have said it too firmly, because his niece smirked and then predicted he’d end up with several daughters. As if he’d ever settle down. The ocean was his mistress.

  When they’d finished reloading the ship, he set a course for Tawa on a lark. Why not?
A bit more expensive to dock at—especially given the price of companionship for the crew, the ale even more so. He consoled himself with the fact they’d be going through a usually quiet stretch of ocean, meaning time for him to finally relax.

  “Jorah, you have the ship,” Darius declared, leaving his capable first mate in the iron bridge.

  The Ocean Avenger was the sturdiest ship sailing the seas. Plated hull. Metal decks. The cabin a box-like structure that boasted few points of entry. A watertight ship was especially important when you got flipped upside down. Sea serpents often got rough when riled, but they were worth hunting for the price they fetched in the markets.

  Darius headed to his room, only to pause. The wine selection in his quarters had dwindled, meaning he should replenish it. Veering around, he dropped down a short, tight set of steps into the bowels of his ship. Literally. Below decks, every inch of space had a use: engine, cannons, storage, hammocks strung wherever a spot could be found. An iron behemoth such as the Ocean Avenger didn’t need a huge crew, but he couldn’t see himself parting with a single person on board.

  The amount of metal on board made his beauty a heavy beast, but that didn’t stop it from sluicing at a fast clip across the water when the engines were churning. The never-ending supply of saltwater fuel helped them move quickly.

  The storage room he wanted lay at the end of the hall. The door initially stuck when he pulled on it. A mighty heave yanked it free, and he found himself face to face with the biggest eyes, almost the same turquoise as the ocean he loved. He knew those eyes. Recognized that face because he’d seen it once in person.

  He groaned. “Oh no.”

  But denying it didn’t change the fact that stowed away in the belly of his ship was the Princess Shereen. The woman everyone was looking for. The one who, with a price on her head so high if brought back alive, he couldn’t just toss from the ship.

  And how did she greet him?

  Blerg.

  She threw up on his feet.

  He stared at her as her chin raised and her wan gaze met his. He waited.

  She cracked and spoke first. “Hi.”

  Just that one simple word. No sorry for making his life complicated. No apology for fucking up his planned quiet moment. No getting a rag and wiping off the vomit on his boots.

  It might have meant he replied a bit gruffly. “Don’t ‘hi’ me. What are you doing on my ship?”

  “Sailing,” she said with a shrug.

  His one organic eye twitched. “Not very well.” He spotted the bucket in the corner and saw it wasn’t the first time she’d tossed the contents of her stomach. How could the daughter of the most powerful known water wizard be seasick?

  “I’m sure I’ll get over it. Eventually.” The green cast to her skin said otherwise.

  “How did you get in here? I don’t recall giving you permission to come on board.”

  “You didn’t. I did.” Jorah stomped down the hall, and his voice carried.

  Darius spun to glare at the much larger man, wishing his bionic eye had a laser to burn the insolence from his first mate. “You’re supposed to be on the bridge making sure we don’t sink.”

  “Tanzie’s watching. Figured I better came talk to ya.”

  “Do you think?” Darius said with an arch of a brow. “You are responsible for this.” He waved his hand at the princess, who swayed on her feet.

  “Yup,” Jorah stated with no remorse.

  “So which bounty are you collecting on?” Darius asked.

  “None.”

  Meaning Jorah didn’t have her on board for a payoff. “I assume you have a good reason for hiding a fugitive on my ship.”

  “Yup.”

  At the short replies, Darius gritted his teeth. “And that reason would be?”

  The first mate rolled his shoulders, and the motion waved through his big body. “She had nowhere else to go.”

  The urge to slam his head off something got stronger. “Exactly how long have we been hiding Port City’s most wanted?”

  “Since we left.”

  Which was more than a week ago at this point. Darius groaned and rubbed at his face. “Who else knows about her presence on board?”

  Jorah shifted. “A few people.”

  “How many is a few?”

  “Almost everyone.”

  “I’m the only one who didn’t know, aren’t I?” Darius groused.

  “Yup.”

  “Why, Jorah? Why would you do this to me?” He flung up his hands and did his best to pace in the tight space; one stride, turn, one stride turn. Not very satisfying, which might explain why he felt a need to rant. “I was looking forward to some peace and quiet. You know how I feel about getting involved in skirmishes that aren’t our problem.”

  “I couldn’t exactly leave her on da docks,” Jorah explained. The big man couldn’t say no to pleading eyes.

  Darius ignored those eyes. He was a man who knew how to keep his focus on the prize. Not much motivated him apart from money. Bringing in the princess would net a big payoff. At the price of his immortal soul. But he didn’t have much use for that.

  Problem was he did have some lines he wouldn’t cross. Some things he just wouldn’t do, like kill an innocent, or sell a woman to someone who would. But he was still mad and not about to let either of them off the hook.

  “She killed her father,” he pointed out.

  “I did not,” she exclaimed, finally speaking in her own defense. Her lower lip trembled. “There was an assassin.”

  He narrowed his gaze on her. “Yeah, there was. His own daughter. With a knife to the heart.”

  “That’s a lie!” she hotly retorted. “I loved my father. I would never hurt him.”

  Oddly enough, he actually believed her. “At this point, it doesn’t matter. There’s a bounty on your head. Three, as a matter of fact.”

  “Three?” Her chin dropped, and her shoulders slumped.

  “The good news is the top two highest paying ones require you alive.”

  She blinked at him. “How is that good?”

  “Well, it’s less likely anyone will try and kill you for the cheap payout.”

  “Great,” was her mumbled reply.

  It hit him then how callous his words were. He felt like a shit, but rather than apologize, he turned to Jorah. “Exactly what the fuck do you expect us to do with her?”

  Before his first mate could reply, she said the one thing even a pirate couldn’t refuse. “Please. Help me.”

  At the heart of every man, there was a need to play hero. In his case, Darius suddenly wanted with all his might to be one for the beautiful woman in front of him. “Helping you might get me killed. And I have to admit, I am kind of not keen on that.”

  She bit her lip and raised that turquoise gaze to meet his. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted. You can disembark tomorrow when we arrive at Tawa.” Where she’d last maybe a minute before someone snatched her from the docks and turned her in for the prize money. Perhaps he should just escort her himself and save everyone the trouble.

  “Disembark and do what?” she exclaimed. “I have nowhere to go. No funds. Not to mention I might be recognized.”

  “I’m sure we can find a way to camouflage you. Maybe cut and dye your hair. How do you feel about facial tattoos?” he mused aloud.

  “I am not inking my face. You can’t do this to me.”

  “He’s not,” Jorah rumbled.

  Darius shot him a glare. “Stay out of this. You’ve already caused me enough trouble.” Then to Shereen. “You cannot stay on board this ship.”

  “But I have nowhere to go. My father was the only one I could trust, and he’s dead and…and…” Her breathing hitched, and Darius stared at her in horror as big tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  He waved his hands frantically. “No crying. I say, no crying on my ship!”

  It only served to make her tears fall silently faster.


  “Dere, dere, princess. You’ll be all right,” Jorah crooned, tucking her close and patting her back while managing a reproachful glare in his direction.

  “Don’t look at me like I’m the monster here,” Darius grumbled, even more annoyed because her tears made him feel only shittier.

  “She’s sad. Be nice.”

  “Be nice, he says. How have I been mean? I think as captain I have the right to ask questions. To wonder why my crew has mutinied against me.”

  “I’m so, so sorry,” she hiccupped, scrubbing a hand over her wet eyes. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. Forget what I said before. Just stop the ship and drop me off.”

  “Where? We are at sea, princess.”

  “Not a princess anymore.” She sniffled. “My name is Shereen.”

  “I know who you are. That’s the entire problem. Everyone is looking for you. And here you are. On my ship. Making us a target for every fucking bounty hunter out there.”

  Ten bags of Dust. He had to admire Jorah, who wanted to be a hero more than a rich man. Darius, though, wanted to remain a living pirate, and that was hard to do if a target was painted on his ship.

  “You’re sure no one else but the crew knows she’s here?” he asked.

  “No one knows.”

  “She has to remain hidden,” Darius ordered. “We can’t have anyone spotting her, or we’ll be in a heap of trouble.” He didn’t need every buccaneer on the seas coming after him.

  “I’m sorry.” Again with the slumped shoulders.

  He felt like a slimy gob of fish innards left on the deck in the sun. “Don’t be sorry. Think of a destination. I was serious when I said you can’t stay on board.”

  “My father wanted me to go see my Uncle Petrov. He lives in the Topaz Isles.”

  “That’s clear on the other side of the continent.” Where the temperature was much colder and the monsters much larger—if sluggish.

  “My father thought I might be safe there.”

  She might be. It certainly wasn’t the easiest place to visit. For other captains perhaps. Darius had been a few times before. Taking the princess would give him a destination rather than aimless wandering, with perhaps a reward from a grateful relative at the end.