“We only made the plan as we was walkin’ up to the place,” James added. “Couldn’t all agree on the best way to go about it so—”
“So Meridan killed ‘em all,” David cut him off.
I caught Meridan and Dahlia exchanging the subtlest of smiles as we rowed hard out to sea.
“Well, then,” I said. “I suppose we’re officially wanted men.”
Savor the light on joyous days
For tomorrow the devil will remember your name.
~Father Jeffory
The sound of drunken singing and James playing a fiddle rang in my ears. I wasn’t fond of celebrations on the sea since I preferred my men alert and coherent, but there was something bittersweet about being done with Whitton and cutting ties. My men got Dahlia and me out of that fusty prison in record time, and they deserved to pat themselves on the back.
I enjoyed seeing delight in their otherwise scruffy, worn-out faces.
I leaned against the railing on the port side of my ship watching my men play music, sing, and dance drunkenly across the deck. Some were drinking to contend with the fact that we were now outlaws with no contracts to bring in the coin. Others because they so thoroughly hated Whitton and were elated to see him gone. And David had swiped a pretty amount of gold off his person on our way out, too. That was nothing to complain about.
The night had a bite to it, but the skies were clear and the stars were shining. If ever God existed, that night was proof of it.
But that meant the devil was just slumbering. Tomorrow would be another day with great potential for disaster.
Which meant it was that much more important to let my men loosen up. Soon, we’d have to figure out our next move in the chaotic world we were all in. Perhaps another town would need hunters. Or perhaps we were about to be forced to leave that business behind and go elsewhere. Adopt a life of piracy with no one to answer to.
Our journey north and integrating two sirens into the crew put cracks in our twisted little family, but it also brought us together. Those who remained were the most trustworthy men I’d ever known and those who chose to leave had their reasons. No doubt they had a hand in spreading the word about my confrontation with Collin.
We were not the typical crew of hunters.
But I didn’t give a single shit anymore.
I eyed Dahlia speaking with Meridan near the mast wearing a dress, of all things. They had both stripped out of their bloodied clothes and threw on the first things they could find. The dress was dark red in color with a row of lacing down the back that cinched around her waist. Meridan was in something similar but had covered it with one of my men’s coats.
Mullins and Gus just finished a shanty and a few of the men collapsed to the floor out of breath. Rum was spilling across the deck and I smiled carefully. I would have joined in the festivities, but the cut on my lip wasn’t fond of facial expressions and my ribs would have been less fond of laughter. Mullins looked at me, raising a mug high in the air.
“To our captain! Who can take a beating better than any of us.”
“Thank God we didn’t lose you,” someone chimed in. “Not a one of us can captain this ship.”
“Aye, she only listens to you!”
The crew burst out in mirth, all taking a swig of their drinks. I took a small sip of my own, but I refused to fill my belly with too much rum. There was something I longed to do before the night was over and I wanted to be sober for it.
Lifting my eyes again, I saw Meridan strolling toward the stairs going below deck. Mullins reached out, taking her wrist and tugging her back. She walked lazily into the open space with him as he tried to force dance steps between them. It took a bit of coaxing, but before long, she was falling in line with the music. The men started hooting and hollering like a bunch of excited hounds and once more, a smile was tugging at my lips. The heavy pouch hanging on my belt filled with Whitton’s money helped my mood as well.
Within seconds, Dahlia was sauntering toward me, her eyes dark and predatory.
Fuck me.
Visions of her tearing into Whitton danced violently before me. I was mad for letting that harden my cock, but the woman was a menace. A deadly, beautiful menace. And she was mine. The way she stared when I was being beaten to a pulp, vengeful and patient, did things to me. I wasn’t even mad she finished Whitton instead of giving me the chance to do it. She could tear out the heart of all my enemies in front of me and I would be happy just to watch.
She was walking with purpose and as she cleared the rowdy crowds of men, the corner of her lips curled up. I clenched my jaw, my fingers itching to wrap around that slender neck of hers and feel the pleasure of her surrender.
With a challenging stare, she stopped. Her eyes roamed over me with an agonizing slowness that I could almost feel like fingers against my skin.
“Not in the mood for a revelry, captain?” she said, her voice melodic and sultry.
I glimpsed her lips again and felt my heart purr in my chest at the thought of kissing them.
