Both of his companions gaped at him, then her.
And she returned their slack-jawed stares without blinking or flinching. “How did you know that?” No one could ever tell she was female whenever she disguised herself as a lad. It was a ploy she’d been using ever since her parents had orphaned them when she was a small girl. A ruse Patrick had insisted on to keep her safe from harm, and under his nose so that he could watch after her.
Bane scoffed as he reached for his ale. “Never try to fool the devil, love. I can see right through you. Besides, no man has an ass that fine. If he did, he’d serve to be changing my religion on certain things.” He took a deep drink, then inclined his head to his companion. “See her to the ship, Bart.”
Bart hesitated. “Are you sure about that?”
“Aye, and settle her in private quarters for now. Make sure the others know to leave her in peace or face my full wrath.”
Bart saluted him. “Aye, sir.”
“And Mr. Meers?”
He paused to look back with an arched brow.
“I expect on my arrival to the ship to find the lass as virginal after parting your company as she is on leaving mine right now.”
Bart let out an irritated growl. “I hate you, Bane. You live only to suck all the joy out of me death, don’t you?”
He snorted. “Pray that joy is the only thing I ever strive to divest from you, my friend. The day I seek greater entertainment than that is the day you should live in absolute terror of.”
“Duly noted, and me testicles have adequately shriveled back into me body so as to pose positively no threat whatsoever to the fair maiden in boy’s clothing.”
“Good man.”
“Eunuch, you mean.”
“And well you should remain, lest I make that condition a permanent one.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Terrified by the thought of being alone with them and their crew, but too desperate to let her fear interfere with her need to find her brother, Cameron reached for her letter and medallion, praying with everything she had that this wasn’t a mistake.
Please God, protect me.
Swallowing in nervous apprehension, she nodded, tucked away her possessions, then followed the captain’s mate.
Devyl sat back to watch them leave. He cut his gaze toward his quartermaster. “What?” he snapped at Will.
“As I value me own testicles … not saying a single word, Captain. Just sitting here, nursing me rum.” He held it up pointedly before he took a swig.
Devyl snorted at him. “Hope you find more courage than that for the task we have ahead of us.”
“No fear there. Have more than me fair share. But you forget that I’ve seen you in a fight. And I’m neither fool nor drunk enough to think I can take you. Besides, you cheat and bite.”
Those words pulled a rare laugh from Devyl. It was one of the reasons why he’d chosen Will as his quartermaster. Unlike the rest of his crew, Will was unflappable and bolder than he should be. He maintained his composure, good nature, and calm rationale under even the most harrowing of events. And he did so with a biting sense of sarcasm and gallows humor.
More than that, Will was as courageous as stated. Courage mitigated only by a sound ability to reason and measure the merits of confrontation.
Aye, William Death was one of the best men Devyl had ever fought with. It would be an honor to die by his side instead of the way Devyl had been gutted before.…
“Permission to speak freely, Captain?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back to pin a sinister glare on Will. “If you’ve the backbone for it. Go on.…”
“Just wondering what mind you have to be bringing a human on board our bewitched ship.”
“Did you get a look at what her brother sent her?”
“The meaningless bauble?”
Devyl scoffed. “And you’re the one who claims to be the faithful religious man between us.”
“Meaning?”
“That bauble, as you claim it, Mr. Death—”
“Deeth,” Will corrected under his breath. It was ever his pet peeve that they didn’t pronounce his name with a long e as opposed to the way it was spelled. Though why his ancestor had chosen to be so antagonistic with either the spelling or pronunciation was anyone’s guess.
“Death,” Devyl repeated incorrectly, as he was ever a cantankerous bastard, “is from the sword of St. Michael.”
“Which one?”
He reached to flip at the silver medallion that hung off a leather cord Will had wound about his left wrist. “That winged bastard creature you believe protects and watches over you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I. But until I do, I thought it prudent to put her under our guard lest something foul decide to make her its next supper.”
“And if that something foul proves to be a member of our crew?”
Devyl allowed his eyes to flash to their natural red state. “They would have a bad day, indeed.… My mood, however, would be vastly improved by their act of blatant stupidity that would result in my natural retaliatory act of extreme and unholy violence.”
And speaking of …
The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he felt the hand of unsavory evil prowling toward the tavern.
Scowling, Will glanced about. “Do you feel that?”
“Aye. It’s come ashore as I said it would.” And headed for the largest gathering of victims … just as Devyl had also predicted.
Meanwhile, the humans in the tavern went on, oblivious to the malignant force that was headed for them.
Devyl rose, intending to keep them in their ignorance. But he only made it halfway to the door before it opened and three plat-eyes came in, wearing the skin of regular sailors.
Will pulled up short behind him. “Sailors from the downed fleet?” he whispered in Devyl’s ear.
Devyl gave a subtle nod as he debated how best to deal with the unholy bastards who’d come to feast on the innocent and take their souls back to feed their mistress. Part of being a bound Hellchaser was to let no one know that neither he nor Will had come to battle these demons.
Unfortunately, the plat-eyes didn’t have a Code they were tied to. They passed an evil grin to one another, then went on a vicious attack that resulted in the three humans closest to them being ripped to shreds.
Utter chaos exploded as the humans sought cover and escape.
Devyl cursed as he was forced against the wall by the tidal wave of terrified humans who were hysterical over being trapped inside by inhuman predators. With their preternatural abilities, the plat-eyes had sealed the door so that no one could flee them.
They thought to feast tonight.
Groaning and shoving at a drunken male who was trying to reach a window, Will made it back to his side. “What do we do, sir? I can’t get near them for the crowd.”
Devyl pulled his coat off with a flourish, then handed it to his quartermaster. “Have I ever said how much I detest the sound of screaming humanity?”