You never really knew where you stood with them.
They would lure you in, make you comfortable, and then serve you up your own intestines.
While smiling in your face.
He respected that about them. And it was what had caused Kalder to be damned here. The mother who’d raised and nurturedhim had murdered him when he’d gone to her for comfort after the death of his younger brother.
Aye, they were all a treacherous, bloodthirsty lot. It ran deep in their bloodlines and was part of their genetic stock. You could bank your very death upon it.
And Devyl would have it no other way.
1
North Bimini, 1717
“Welcome to Hell, Mr. Death.”
“Deeth!” William corrected habitually, knowing his dark and deadly captain couldn’t care less how to properly pronounce his name. Cantankerous tosslington did it apurpose, as he lived to rankle everyone around him, especially his crew.
Proof to that point came as an amused, sharp glint in the depths of Bane’s demonically red eyes.
Even so, and ever reckless in the face of imminent threat, Will cocked a brow at the aptly named DevylBane and his screwy sense of humor as they approached a dingy yellow building in the middle of a rain-soaked street in the Bahamas. Only as they neared civilians whom they were supposed to hide their preternatural existence from did Devyl dampen the hue of his eyes from red to black.
“Interesting way to open up a conversation there, Captain. Feel like you ought to have some sort of evil laugh to punctuate it. You know? Just for affectation.”
With a wicked grin to make Old Scratch proud, Bane clapped him on his shoulder. “Not really.” He jerked his bearded chin toward the devil-emblazoned tavern sign over their heads. “Name of the place.Hell’s Underbelly. I’s merely welcoming you to it, since we should be at home here. Though this one seems a mite tame when compared to the one Thorn dredged us from.”
It did, indeed. In spite of the rough drunkard who was thrown through the doors by two burly blokes to land sprawling at their feet.
Devyl didn’t break his stride as he casually stepped over the battered man’s prone body and entered the dark tavern.
Unsure of how he felt about the captain’s disregard of the drunkard’s plight, William skirted around the side of the unfortunate man and followed the captain in, where he was met by the sound of shrill revelry and foul curses.
Then he rethought his earlier assumption about the place, since it smelled about the same as the sulphuric pits they’d once called home.
Rotten, unwashed humans…
Rotten, farting demons…
Both disgusting in equal measure.
Only difference was killing demons, unlike humans, didn’t getyou damned to hell, it got you liberated out of it. Hence why they were here.
Save some humans. Kill some demons.
Same mission. Different day.
Or was it different mission, same day? Here lately, it was getting harder to tell those two apart.
Maybe they were in hell again, after all…
It’d be just the kind of sinister trap Lucifer might concoct as punishment for them. Old Scratch was a treacherous blighter that way.
Suddenly, Will’s gut was tight enough to form a lump of coal at the thought.
“What’d you do to poor Will now, Captain? He looks like you just gave him watch duty over Mr. Meer’s nastiest boots.”
Will stepped back as Cameron Jack joined their meager company. Dressed as a lad in a red linen coat and tan breeches, the lady held a quiet, respectful grace. Her dark chestnut hair was pulled back into a circumspect queue and hidden beneath a sharp black tricorne that accentuated her pretty, angular features. How he’d ever mistaken her for a man, he couldn’t fathom nowadays.
