“Oui!” Roach clapped Sallie on his back. “Make the blackguards rue that which birthed them and the very air we breathe!”
William grimaced. “You mean they breathe?”
“Non! They should regret that we breathe, for we will make them weep at all the wounds we give unto them. I piss down the throats of the swine!”
Laughing, William clapped him on the back.
“Thieves, drunkards, lunatics, wastrels, and whores we might all be, but there ain’t a coward among us.” Sancha crossed her arms over her chest as she dared Devyl with her gaze to try and move her from the ship.
Devyl wasn’t sure what to make of this camaraderie. Honestly? It scared the shite out of him. He’d never known it before. Not even his own army had been that loyal. Rather, they’d been too scared to raise arms against him for fear they wouldn’t kill him. Only anger him so that he’d disembowel them for the affront.
But that being said, he was all about going after Miss Jack and her brother and seeing this made right. Whatever the cost.
Even if they did have to set the world on fire as Sallie wanted.
Bart handed him a towel. “The shifters pretended to be you, Captain. They told us to head toward the Quella.”
“Well then, let’s not disappoint them. Full speed. Storm be damned, me hearties. In the meantime, let’s see about conjuring us up a hag, shall we?”
Mara groaned out loud, finally giving voice to the doubt he expected from her. “By all means, open the door to hell and unleash someone even more terrifying than Vine. Why not?” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, then narrowed her gaze at Devyl. “Are you sure we need to? Shouldn’t we call for Necrodemians instead? Thorn said we could.”
Devyl snorted at the thought. ’Twas the last thing he’d ever do. “I’d sooner trust Vine. At least I know where I stand with her. Problem with good men … you never know when they’re going to do something evil in an attempt to make something right. Personally, I like stability in battle.” He pulled his flintlocks from his belt and handed them to Bart who, in turn, scowled at him.
“Should I ask, Captain?”
“You never want a water witch to lay her hands on gunpowder, Mr. Meers. Even if it be damp. Disarm yourselves, everyone. It’s not worth what could happen.”
“He’s right.” Mara glanced about. “Make sure all the powder’s put away before he embarks on this next round of idiocy he’s set himself to.”
Devyl smirked at her recitation of his idea, but didn’t bother to correct her words. Mostly because she wasn’t wrong.
It was just irritating to have her undermine him out loud before their crew.
Belle paused beside Devyl to stare up at him with a knowing grimace that melted into a smile. “Feeling better now, Captain?”
He bit back a groan at her silent insinuation. “Don’t be getting cheeky with me, Miss Morte. Me humor’s still not restored fully.”
Her gaze slid to Mara. “I’d wager otherwise.”
“You know, I ate the last crewman who annoyed me.”
She laughed at that. “I’m not worth the indigestion, Captain.” And with that, she flounced off to clap Mara on the shoulder and kiss her cheek.
Trying not to think about the fact that he was actually embarrassed, Devyl waited until all the weapons and powder were secured before he and Janice began the conjuring necessary to summon the witch up from the ocean.
And not just any hag.
The handmaiden of Tiamat herself. Some said she’d been banished to the bowels of the ocean as punishment by a jealous goddess who envied her for her beauty. Others claimed it was a coven of other witches who’d been commissioned to chain her there by women who were sick of her preying on them and their men at night while they slept—that she’d visit them in the form of a cat and suck away years of their life so that she could maintain her beauty and immortality.
The latter being what they attributed sudden sea storms to in this region. It was the old sea hag needing souls to maintain her longevity, and the only way she could get them to her prison. None ever returned from her watery home.
He turned to Mara. “Can you hold her after I summon her?”
She arched a brow. “Did you mean to insult me?”
“Nay, love.” He winked at her with a laugh. “I’d never do such … out loud. Besides, I’m about to put my life in your hands. But I didn’t want to put your life in danger. If you need reinforcement, I’d rather get it now than summon her and find out too late that she’s more powerful than we thought. Last thing I want is to have to cut me own throat for allowing you to be harmed.”
Mara choked on a joyous sob at those words. Words that Dón-Dueli wouldn’t say lightly, which made them all the more valuable. While he might be protective, he never spoke publicly about such things.
