Her breath hitches, whether it’s from rage or fear, I can’t quite tell, but hopefully the firm press in my pants hasn’t given me away. My free hand slides up her right arm, dragging across her skin. “Tell me, Odelia. How did you free yourself from your chains?”
She squirms beneath me, her lips so close to mine. “Let me go,” she says with a hiss.
A deep, low chuckle bubbles from my stomach. “Oh, but I’m not finished with you yet.”
Before she has time to react, I swipe the brig’s manacles, and snap the cold iron around her wrist, locking it to the iron bar behind her with a harshclack.
I shift back, trying to sit up, but she’s faster, legs snapping up, aiming to drive the sole of her leather boot into my chest, maybe even my face. I catch her ankles mid-kick, the force jarring through my arms. With a grunt, I yank hard, dragging her down and twisting. Her body slams into the floor, stomach-first, arms scrabbling for purchase.
Before she can recover, I’m on her again—knee pressing into the small of her back, pinning her down like a wild thing still fighting the trap.
She twists her head, a feral grin on her lips. “Captain Rune, how forwards of you. I thought we’d at least have dinner first.”
Despite my heart pounding in my ears, and the drag of breath into my lungs, I lean down until I’m a hair’s breadth away from her ear. “I’m flattered, but I don’tfucksea scum.”
I push off her, scrambling backwards to lean against the frame of the cell. All daggers, and hairpins, are out of her reach, and so is my body. Odelia rolls back over, dragging herself into a sitting position. Both of us just stare at each other, chests rising in sync as we gather our breath.
Fucking pirates.
Her eyes never leave mine, and despite how fixated I am, frustration sets in—I’m done playing this game, my patience is like a fraying rope hanging on for dear life. “I’m tired of waiting, Odelia.”
“I’ll never tell you anything,” she spits back.
I grit my teeth, biting back the fury boiling in my veins. I need to move. I hate sitting still. “How many are on your crew? What kind of weapons are on board? Where are they headed? What’s their next target? Is someone feeding them their information?”
Obviously, a night down here all alone didn’t cure that stubbornness, because she still refuses to answer. “Are you working for someone?” she says, firing the question back like the answer will matter.
I laugh, because every island and mainland navy has a standing contract out for Vipers. It wouldn’t surprise me if the other pirates have coin on their captain’s head too.
“I’m not that kind of bounty hunter.” If she’s looking for leverage, she won’t find it. We don’t work for individual employers. And while hunting bounties on the Adamaris Sea can be thankless work, there isn’t a single member of my crew who wouldn’t spill Ivor’s blood for free. His fate was sealed the moment I saw the viper tattoo on her arm.
Scraping my boots on the weathered floor, I stand. Odelia scrambles up too.
I take a small step towards her, my arms folded across my chest. “We’re three days from Goldmere and something tells me this was the best you’ve got. The inland navy doesn’t allow pirates the luxury of disembarking before binding them hand and foot. You’re out of options. They’ll march down here, chain you up to your teeth, and throw you in a hole so deep, you’ll forget what light looks like. You’ll eat rocks and stale air for every meal, and any thought of freedom? Gone. Dead. Buried.”
Something flickers in her eyes.
I lean in. “No more running. No more chances. You either talk . . . or you’re locked away forever.”
I take another step. Panic. That’s what it is. She’s panicking—and she’s frightened. A slow smile spreads across my face. She’s crumbling, I can feel it—see it in the way her breath hitches. The victory is mine.
Her mouth parts slightly, her eyes wider than before, and I swear I can hear the tremble in her voice. “I have a map. The kind with gold—more than any bounty. We could make a deal.”
A sharp huff escapes my lips. “Liar. Tavi wouldn’t miss that.”
Odelia’s brow raises. “She missed my hair pin.”
I shove my hands into my pockets. I’d rather she didn’t scent my curiosity, and I don’t need gold, so I shrug my shoulders while remaining emotionless. “Prove it.”
Odelia hesitates for a moment, then without taking her gaze from mine, she slips one boot off. With nimble fingers she reaches down inside her shoe, retrieving a worn parchment. A map, with a cipher strip down one side.
So she wasn’t lying. I’m surprised. Doesn’t mean the plan has changed.
Black, cursive scribbles adorn one side—instructions maybe, or clues. I reach out, but before I get a chance to graze my fingers on the paper, she snatches it away, tearing the scribbled corner of the map with her teeth before swallowing it down.
There is no time to process what she’s just done, because in the non-eaten corner of the map my eyes land on a mark—a symbol.
Everything stops . . . my breath catching in my throat, heart slamming against its bone cage inside my chest before stuttering into silence. The rest of the map blurs at the edges, useless. Irrelevant.
