“If she gets in my way.”
“What happened between the two of you, anyway? Why does she hate you so much?”
Devyl fell silent at the question that took him back to a time and place he hated. Back to a boy who’d died a harsh, painful death long before Vine had carved out his heart, fed it to him, and ended his mortal life. “She blames me for corrupting her sister.”
“Did you?”
“What difference does it make? The past is done with. Blame is nothing more than a waste at this point. Besides, we’re all guilty of something.”
Thorn knew that look in Duel’s eyes. A pain so profound and deep that you dared not speak of it because no amount of time could dull the way it lacerated your soul and left it bleeding and raw. It was a turmoil he lived with himself. Guilt. Anguish. And a self-hatred that overrode all other feelings to the point you wondered at times how you managed to remain sane.
Or maybe you didn’t.
Maybe you were insane. That would at least explain the horror that was life. The travesty of it all.
Denial was the easiest way to cope. You ignored it as much as you could and prayed it stayed in the dark recesses where you locked it away tight and prayed it never got out again.
Yet no matter how great the seal—how carefully you guarded that door—sooner or later some stupid bastard always had to open it and force you to look inside. Face the very thing you didn’t want to see.
Today, he was that stupid bastard.
It was almost enough to make him feel sorry for Duel. Perhaps there was some semblance of a soul left in this vicious blighter after all.
Then again, given some of their nastier battles, he wondered if there’d ever been a soul in Dón-Dueli of the Dumnonii. They hadn’t called him the Dark One or Black Soul because of his hair color.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Enter.”
Thorn was ever impressed with the way Duel could command his voice to such a threatening intensity without actually raising it to a shout. As a warlord himself, he’d never quite perfected that shit-in-your-breeches growl to the same extent.
William drew up short as he saw Thorn in the cabin. “Beg pardon for the interruption, but we’ve got a bit of a situation and wanted your input, Captain.”
Devyl let out a weary sigh. “Who has Sallie’s soul now?”
“Not that. There’s a ship approaching fast off the starboard aft. She just hoisted her colors.”
He arched a questioning brow.
William swallowed hard before he answered. “Red jack.”
A pirate flag. Take no prisoners. Show no mercy. Death to all.
No prey. No pay.
A slow smile spread across Devyl’s lips. “Slow her down, Mr. Death. Swing her about and, by all means, let the bitches catch up.”
5
Devyl stood on deck with his telescope, eyeing the approaching ship, while Thorn moved in to rest just behind him. Something the demon knew made the hairs on Devyl’s neck rise—along with his hackles. He’d never been one to stomach a friend at his back.
Never mind a former enemy who’d once lifted his sword in battle against him.
Though allies they might be today, it still didn’t erase the years they’d fought viciously to destroy each other. Nor did it lend itself to the formation of any kind of trusting bond between them.
It never would.
Devyl used his powers to check the Sea Witch’s defenses. Cannons had been rolled into position and stood ready to rain down iron hell on the approaching group. To keep his crew from spooking, he lifted his telescope to survey the sloop that was gaining on them, even though he didn’t really need it to inspect them.
