He’d deserve it, too, for what he’d done.
They all would. Every last one of them.
Their ship’s pilot, Sancha, was right. Men were the worst sort of philandering beasts, one and all. Their cod-dangles were nothing more than dowsing rods bent on seeking trouble and women of low virtue. Their lips might claim to want one thing, but their actions spoke of something else entirely. Why Valynda had ever sought to protect one of their questionable species, she had no idea. Some of her stuffing must have come loose in her noggin and left her seriously lacking.
That was her thought, until they returned to the ship and she was greeted by more hugs and well wishes than she’d ever imagined. Her head spun as she was grabbed up, squeezed, and then passed to the next set of arms.
It wasn’t until she got to Cameron and Kalder Dupree that she came to a staggering halt. Laughing, Cameron drew her into a warm hug. “You poor wee thing. You look a bit dazed.”
Valynda smiled at her friend. Since Cameron had married Kalder, she’d stopped dressing as a man, and had begun to wear the trappings of a woman. Gowns looked good on her, as did the dainty bonnet that framed her lovely face and brought out the curve of her flushed cheeks, which had grown rounder with her pregnancy. “How did all of you find us?”
Kalder inclined his head to someone over Valynda’s shoulder.
She glanced over, expecting to see a crewmember or Thorn.
It wasn’t.
To her eternal shock and dismay, Xuri was there, towering over her. He’d covered his curly dark hair and those feathers he wore braided into them with a black linen headscarf that strangely made him seem tame. Subdued. For the first time, she saw the guilt in his amber eyes and knew it for what it was.
Guilt for his part in condemning her to this fate. Damn him for it.
More than that, he’d tamed down his dandy fashion to a faded light purple linen shirt and a plain black overcoat. Black breeches and scuffed, unremarkable boots. He was more akin to the captain than the arrogant peacock he normally appeared whenever he made his presence known among humans. The only accouterments to betray his loa identity were the elaborate necklaces layered around his neck and the studded leather belt with a large silver skull buckle. And of course his bejeweled rings. They alone were the usual fare that she’d never seen him part with.
Meanwhile, Oussou wore his pale hair pulled back from his handsome face. He stood to Xuri’s right, dressed in his typical elaborately embroidered black brocade jacket and satin breeches. His purple vest stood out in vivid contrast to the somber colors. As did Masaka. But then, she always stole the show and drew everyone’s attention. Her dark skin glistened in the light even though she’d painted the outline of her skull over the top of her flesh so as to scare those who saw her. It was, after all, what she loved to do most—
Frighten anyone foolish enough to cross her path. The more screams, the better. She counted that as her personal badge of honor.
Yet like their master, they were subdued today.
Sincerity burned in Xuri’s eyes as he approached her slowly. Almost as if he were afraid of how she’d react to him. “I’m glad they found you.”
She gave Xuri a cold smile. “As am I. Would have been most rotten had they not.” She was torn between anger and hurt … but really, it was mostly hurt. A deep, agonizing pain that burned straight through her heart and made her want to put as much distance between them as she could. Right now, she needed time to think about what she’d found out. Time to consider what he’d done and if she could really forgive him for tearing her out of her body and leaving her as this horrific shell of a creature.
Could she forgive him? And if she did, was that worth giving up a chance for a real human body again?
So, she brushed past him to head toward the stairs that led belowdecks.
Nibo stood completely stunned as Valynda left him with a sudden brush-off the likes of which she’d never done before. What the hell was that? Especially after everything he’d done for her!
He could tell Masaka wanted to say something but knew better than to speak in front of the others. After all, he wasn’t one to take insubordination lightly. While he could be laid-back, he did have a temper.
Right now, that temper was climbing.
Nibo passed a look to his companion that dared her to break her common sense and speak one single word. The mood he was in, he might hand Masaka’s tongue to her if she dared. This wasn’t the reception he’d expected. Valynda was supposed to be grateful to him for her rescue. Throw herself into his arms and kiss him blind. Declare her undying love. Maybe not to the extent of Marcelina and her public mauling of Devyl Bane on his left, but still. A happy medium between an all-out orgy on the deck of the ship and the cold brush-off he’d just been given would be nice.
Unable to stand it, he headed after her.
But he didn’t get far. As soon as his feet hit the lower deck, he found the tiny little sorceress Belle Morte planted squarely in front of him. The look in her amber eyes said that she wanted to give him a resounding lecture, though why, he couldn’t even begin to imagine.
Her dark skin was a stark contrast to the white shirt and exposed corset she wore over a bright red skirt. She tsked as she shook her head at him. “What have you done?”
That tone irritated him and called for a sarcastic response. “Came below.”
She rolled her eyes. “There’s a secret you be harboring. Be wary what you keep. For nothing is secret that shall not be made manifest. Neither anything hid that shall not be known and come abroad.”
Nibo stiffened at her audacity. Those words sent a chill down his spine. Secrets were what he kept best and appreciated most. At least when they were his and not someone else’s. He had more than he could begin to catalogue, and personally he liked it that way, as it kept others on their toes. “She wouldn’t understand.”
“People don’t understand lies. The truth is usually easier to swallow and causes a lot less choking.”
