Bane didn’t so much as glance back at the infamous pirate hunter. Instead he made his way straight to his cabin.
William, on the other hand, paused at Bart’s side and turned to smile at Captain Barnet and his men. He fussed at the cuff of his jacket in the manner of a jolly fop. “Greetings, Johnny. Catch any scary pirates lately?”
Color returned to the pirate hunter’s cheeks to darken them with a sudden rage. “Looking for Captain Cross. Heard he’d made his way into our waters. Him and Jean St. Noir.”
William tsked. “Does this look like the Fickle Bitch or the Soucouyant? Barnet…” he chided. “I’m highly offended. Our lady ship’s offended.” He tsked at the group with Captain Barnet. “Best you go on before Bane hears of this and takes a sword to you for the insult to our lady’s honor. This be a first-rate man-o’-war here, not some half-rigged sloop or frigate. He won’t like that slight … not at all.”
Grimacing, Barnet swept his gaze across the silent crew who stood around to back their quartermaster. “There’s something not right about the lot of you.”
William winked at him. “There’s something not right about the lot of the world, mate. We just embrace our natural differences with gusto.”
And with that, Captain Barnet and his soldiers finally departed the gangway.
William followed them down to the dock as if to ensure they left the area and didn’t double back in an attempt to sneak aboard some other way.
Cameron didn’t move until after Captain Barnet and his men had vanished into the night.
“Did they scare you, ma petite?”
Cameron let out a startled shriek at the voice that manifested right beside her ear. Jumping away from it, she turned to see a peculiar man standing so close that she could feel his breath on her flesh.
His skin was a rich caramel color, stretched tight over a body that rippled with defined muscles the likes of which she’d seldom seen on any male—Captain Bane notwithstanding. And that wasn’t the only peculiarity he possessed. His black hair was cut short and worn spiked atop his head in a strange, unique style.
And those eyes …
Merciful heaven!
They were unlike any shade she’d ever beheld in her life, especially with the rest of his coloring. A cool, steely blue, they had a deep grayish cast, and yet …
The color truly defied explanation. More like a silvery storm on a dark, sinister sea. In a weird way, it reminded her of how the parson and his scriptures described the color of the pale horse that Death rode in the Apocalypse.
Stranger still, the sleeves of his black linen shirt were rolled up to his elbows, displaying that both his forearms were covered with scrolling black tattoos that appeared more akin to a second skin color than actual ink.
He quirked one finely arched eyebrow at her continued silence. “Devil got your tongue?”
She shivered at the sound of his voice. “That is an incredible accent you have there. Wherever are you from?”
His smile turned warm and charming. “A place I know you’ve never heard of. Wyñeria. The accent’s a form of Igñeri … Island Carib.”
He was right about that—she’d never heard of his homeland before. But over the years, she’d learned of many different towns and small islands in the Caribbean. “Which island?”
“Let’s just say it’s between Trinidad and Tobago, and keep it at that.”
“Leave off our new crew member, Kalder. Captain’s orders,” William said as he joined them.
His tone wistful, he spoke to Mr. Death in a lyrical language Cameron had never heard before, then he headed for the ship.
She scowled as she realized Kalder was barefoot, with no stockings. As with his arms, his legs from the knees down held peculiar scrolling tattoo marks.
“What did he say?” she asked William.
“Not fit for repeating to a lady, me love. Afraid you’ll find the majority of our crew isn’t the most refined of creatures. Kalder Dupree is one you’ll be wanting to give a bit of a berth to.”
“Why? He seemed cordial enough.” If not a bit unnerving with his silent movements and piercing stare.
He winced. “If you keep going on what things seem to be, child, rather than what they really are, you’re in for a long haul with this group.”
A sudden whistle rent the air.
