Death Doesn't Bargain

  “And what are they?”

  “Barnak demons.”

  He gaped at Kalder. “That’s a Barnak?”

  Now it was his turn to be stunned. “You’ve heard of them?”

  “Well, of course. I am a Simeon Mage. I’ve just never actually seen one.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. How do you know of them?”

  “Simeon Mage,” Bart repeated slowly as if Kalder were as daft as Kalder had accused him of being, and that by the very mention of the term for Bart’s abilities Kalder should have instant clarity of Bart’s unheard-of knowledge about Tally’s species. “What part of that do you not understand?”

  “Mostly all. I’ve never met a land-walker who knew of them before. At least none what didn’t fight against them in battle and come up the short for it.”

  Bart flashed him a taunting grin. “There’s a reason me brothers and I were kept secret from the world, and why Bane brought me and Will onboard this ship as part of his crew, and placed us as his seconds-in-command.”

  And Kalder still wondered why, given their sorry temperaments, but he knew from experience that Bart wouldn’t answer. Neither would Will. They were as cryptic and private as he was about their kind. Bloody bastards both.

  But that was neither here nor there at the moment. They were welcome to their secrets.

  He had a much more pressing issue at stake. “Anyway, Mr. Meers,” he reminded Bart in his most sarcastic tone, “the point of this most illuminating discussion is that said demon just took off with the lass toward the others, and none’s the wiser for it.”

  “Is he harmful to them?”

  He supposed that depended on the definition one used for “harm.”

  “Well, speak up, man!” Bart snapped. “Does he intend to hurt our crew?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think, or you don’t know?”

  Kalder shrugged in total frustration. In all honesty, he didn’t know what Chthamalus had planned in that squiddy little mind of his. While he didn’t think Chthamalus was a direct threat per se, he still wasn’t completely sure why the demon was here and trying to protect him. “You interrupted us before I could finish my interrogation and find out what’s going on. If he was sent by someone else to spy here, or what for.”

  Grumbling, Bart took him by the arm and headed after them.

  Normally Kalder would have had the bastard’s bullocks for daring to manhandle him in such a high-handed manner, but his curiosity was too great at the moment for him to protest it too much. Especially since he had a bad, bad feeling in his gut.

  More than that, he felt as if something or someone was watching him. The sensation crept over his skin like a living, breathing creature.

  Unnerved, he hesitated and glanced about, half expecting the very air to be spying upon him.

  While that might be a bit unorthodox, he wouldn’t put anything past his older brother’s abilities, especially with Chthamalus here. Varice had always been a treacherous bastard that way.

  Worse than all his other brothers combined.

  All Kalder knew for certain was that something was wrong, and Chthamalus being here was just the beginning of it. Something was definitely rotten in the ocean, and it wasn’t just the bilge water, dead fish.…

  Or Bart’s smelly shoes.

  * * *

  Cameron patted her new friend’s hand comfortingly as she led her into the cabin and shut the door. Sancha was asleep in her bunk with her long white hair spilled out over her pillow.

  For once Belle was resting in the bunk beside her, snoring softly. Even Valynda was asleep, and she rarely rested. Only Janice was awake, and she, their resident Dark-Huntress, was reading by candlelight.

  She looked up from her book to pin a peculiar frown on Cameron. “What the devil?” Suspicion hung heavy in her dark eyes as she swept a gimlet frown over their dripping, shivering guest.

  Cameron pulled the girl into the light so that Janice could better see her, then wondered why she bothered since Janice’s Dark-Hunter sight didn’t need any light whatsoever to focus with. In fact, she saw better without it, but it was easy to forget that since the woman acted more human than most humans Cameron knew, which was probably why Janice used the candlelight to read by when she didn’t really need it. It was more for their benefit than hers, as it kept up the appearance that Janice was still human and not a soulless Dark-Hunter demon slayer living amongst them.

  Unlike the Deadmen on the ship, Dark-Hunters didn’t answer to Thorn or Captain Bane. They were well-trained warriors who’d sold their souls to the Greek goddess Artemis for a single Act of Vengeance against the person who’d betrayed them by wrongfully killing them and their loved ones. After they were given a single day to fulfill their pact, they were then conscripted for eternity to fight in Artemis’s immortal army against the Daimons who preyed on human souls for sustenance, as well as to help others, such as Thorn and his Deadmen, police any preternatural predators out to make meals off mankind.

  Janice had come to their crew after a group of Daimons had set her adrift at sea in an open dinghy, hoping she’d die under the burning rays of the sun—something as lethal to a Dark-Hunter as it was to their special breed of demon. Luckily, the Deadmen had seen her first and known her for what she was, thus saving her life and giving her a new post as part of their motley band of sailors.

  Grateful for her friendship and nocturnal Dark-Hunter ways that prevented her from living the normal hours of a daylight creature, Cameron presented their latest guest to Janice. “Would you believe Bart and Kalder had her cornered on the deck and weren’t rendering aid to the wee thing? Rather, they were gawking at her undressed state?”

  Janice laughed at her obvious ire. “’Course they were. She’s naked.”

  Why was she so amused while Cameron was beside herself over their obnoxious and scandalous behavior? “Are you not horrified?”

  “Only be shocked if they weren’t, given the rather impressive proportions of her curves.” She winked at Cameron. “Or the fact she be a demon, love.”

  Cameron went cold at those words. “Pardon?”

  Janice laughed at her startled expression. “She be a demon, love,” she repeated. “Surely you knew that. Right?”

  Um … nay. She’d had no idea.

  Her stomach fell straight to her feet as she turned to gape at the “girl” who blinked innocently at her. “You’re a demon?”

  “You won’t be holding that against me, now, will you? I like you. You seem very nice … and sweet. Are you sweet?” She blinked innocently at Cameron.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. Sweet? As in “to eat” sweet?

  That would be the natural assumption, especially when dealing with a demon that like as not would want a bite of her flesh!

  Squeaking, Cameron jumped away from the wet demon, ready to fight.

  Yet for all that, Cameron’s hair remained dark and she stayed in her human body. Which only confused her more, as that didn’t normally happen around creatures of this ilk. Especially not if they meant harm to her or another.

  “What are you?”

  The demon shrugged. “Naked and wet. Bit cold and getting colder. You said you’d take care of me? Is there some mead about? I rather like mead for drink. It usually warms me when I’m cold like this.”

  Disarmed by the oddly charming beastie, Cameron gaped at Janice, who seemed to be as equally perplexed by their guest. The creature appeared about as guileless as an infant. So either she was harmless …

  Or the most treacherous creature ever born.

  No wonder men were terrified of women, if this was a sample of how they appeared duplicitous in their eyes. She finally understood how her brother felt whenever he dealt with her when she was in one of her more contrary moods. It was, indeed, quite confusing.

  All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door. “Miss Jack? You there?”

  Never had she been happier to hear Kalder’s deep, resonant voice. She
went to open it and allow him and Bart to enter their small, cramped space. But to her instant dismay, their entrance, as quiet as it was, also disturbed her sleeping companions. And while Valynda woke up in a relatively polite mood, given the unholy hour of it all, the same couldn’t be said for Belle.

  She hated to be disturbed when she slept.

  And Sancha came awake downright hostile and ready for war. “What the bloody hell is this, mates? Ship better be on fire and demons best be at the gate! Or else your bullocks are about to be in me fists!” She glared at Bart, then Kalder, with fury in her eyes and hell’s wrath twisting her lips.

  Smirking, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Half that statement be right.”

  Sancha growled fiercely as she righted herself in her bunk. “Ship on fire or I’m about to take a testicle from you both?”

  “Demon at the gate.” Kalder crossed the small cabin to grab said demon by the arm. “Why, Chthamalus? Just why?”

  “Why what, my lord?”

  He let out a frustrated growl. “Why did you choose to be a woman just now?”

  “So as not to scare the humans. It’s what you always said, is it not? Kill none without direct orders. And even with orders they must be armed, and at least over four and a half feet high, or we have to let them go … per your namby-pamby dictates.”

  Bart laughed.

  Kalder raked him with an irritated grimace. “You laugh, but his kind once ate an entire nursery of children.”

  “Not what I’m laughing at. What I find amusing is that he thinks you’re the namby-pamby.”

  Cameron bit back a laugh at the thought herself. Bart had a point. Kalder was the last person she would use those words to define, as he was a bit surly most days, and quicker to brawl than most.

  “Any rate,” Kalder said, turning back toward the demon, “I think it best that—”

  Something struck the ship hard and spun them about. The impact was so abrupt that it knocked Kalder, Bart, Cameron, and Chthamalus to the floor. Janice barely managed to stay in her bunk while Sancha fell from hers and let out a curse so foul even Bane would have been impressed with its color. Belle was thrown into Valynda’s bed, and then the two of them landed in a sprawled heap on the floor.

  This time, Cameron’s body did react to whatever was out there. Her wings sprang from her back and unfurled. Iridescent in the faint light, they appeared to breathe. Pushing herself to her feet, she turned around, slowly, looking for the threat, and half expecting said threat to come at them through the very boards of the ship. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had happened.

  Indeed, threats such as that had become rather common for them since the gate had fallen.

  But there was nothing evident.

  The ship quieted and righted itself with an eeriness that was even more frightening than that unexpected attack.

  Still, something was here. Creeping through the shadows and air. Every part of her being felt an insidious chill that defied explanation. It skipped up her spine and caused the hairs on her neck to stand up.

  The silence was deafening. Listless. Wandering.

  Whispering.

  Whatever had come aboard was searching for them.…

  Slithering and seeking.

  Kalder lifted his head and tensed as he felt a presence he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

  Nay … can’t be.

  Those have been dispatched. None should be left anywhere in this realm.

  You’re dreaming. Imagining things …

  He met Cameron’s wary gaze, then Bart’s. “Keep them here.” He turned his attention to his old friend. “Tally … guard them with your life.” He had to go and check to see if he were correct with his assumption. To see if his gut were lying.

  His heart hammering while they straightened themselves, Kalder wrenched open the door and ran for the deck, where he prayed he was wrong about the premonitions torturing him. But with every step, he was more and more certain that hell had frozen over, and that his nightmare was reality.

  Shite …

  Outside, the smell of the acid and sulphur was unmistakable. It hung in his throat and burned on his tongue.

  The sea around the ship appeared to boil. This was a specific kind of attack that his brother had once led for his father against ancient navies. One from which their enemies had never survived.

  They couldn’t.

  Suddenly, Mara appeared as an apparition on the deck beside him. “What are those, Mr. Dupree? Why can’t I outrun them?”

  Because those creatures weren’t fed by the wind or sails.

  They ran on the emotions of the crew they frightened. Negative emotions such as fear, dread, even anger made them stronger. Faster.

  Invincible.

  “In short, my lady, utter destruction.”

  There was a reason why his father had dubbed them “Dread Waters.” It was how they functioned and what made them work.

  What made them lethal.

  And right now, those Dread Waters began to percolate and dance harder against their hull. Higher. A rhythmic, hypnotizing beat. He could hear them in his head like a second heartbeat that caused his own to synch up to it. Louder and more demanding. They struck against the ship more insistently, causing Mara to solidify and stumble on deck beside him.

  Devyl materialized out of thin air to catch her in his arms before she fell. He cast a furious glower to Kalder that said he knew exactly who and what they were facing, and that he was no more thrilled by the threat than Kalder was.

  “Mr. Death!” he shouted. “Ready the mages! Strixa, if you’re hungry, lass, I won’t stop your buffet.”

  A happy screech sounded, quickly followed by the blurred sight of their resident water witch in the form of a black owl taking flight so that she could attack this newest threat. It wasn’t often Bane allowed her to feed unimpeded.

  And still Kalder felt the threat growing more lethal as every second passed.

  This was different from all the other times they’d been attacked. The Dread Waters were a lot stronger than they’d ever been before. Something had roused them up to a rare form tonight, and made them even more powerful than they’d been at the height of his father’s reign.

  What could cause such a transformation … he had no idea. His people had been on the brink of dying out when his mother had killed him. Their forces, like their numbers, should have dwindled and weakened over the centuries, not grown. And definitely not increased into something of this magnitude.

  This made no sense whatsoever.

  How was it even possible?

  Closing his eyes, Kalder summoned his powers and listened to the voices in the aether, seeking some form of rational explanation.

  Yet only agonized screams filled his ears. The voices of a million souls in torment …

  Then in a single instant he understood what was happening.

  And why.

  “Swing her about!” he shouted. “Fire to the wind!”

  Bane arched a brow at his unexpected and shocking orders. Orders Kalder knew ran contrary to everything Bane stood for, and normally, so did he. “You’d have us retreat? Are you insane?”

  He pointed at the water. “That’s the Malachai rising beneath those waves. It’s what’s giving them such power and why they’re surging like this. We can’t fight him.”

  Only a fool would try when that malevolent beast was this strong.

  For the first time ever, he saw hesitation in Bane’s eyes. Not out of cowardice.

  Respect. The Malachai wasn’t like any other creature or demon alive. He was a force unto himself and he carried with him the knowledge and powers of all the Malachai who’d been born before, throughout time itself. Each generation growing deadlier.

  More destructive.

  None more powerful, vengeful, and hate-filled than the one they claimed had been driven mad by his captivity.

  Adarian Malachai.

  Created by the dark gods so that he could fr
ee them and they could finally rule over all of the earth and put down their enemies. Only Adarian had never agreed to be anyone’s flunky. Not even that of the ancient gods who’d bred him.

  Now Adarian was out for blood.

  Everyone’s.

  And especially the gods who had sought to rule and use him. Those who had fed from him and weakened him for their own selfish purpose.

  For centuries, Adarian had been doing his best to find his way out—to escape his captors and rain down his wrath upon them for the punishments they’d doled to the beast.

  That insolent, insatiable anger and hunger was what had finally caused the Maystresse Gates that held the Malachai prisoner from the human world to buckle and fracture.

  Long before mankind had begun to record history, the ancient gods had fought a vile and vicious war.

  In those days, the Malachai wasn’t a single demon, but many, and he and his army had fought for the Cimmerians or Mavromino—the darkest of the gods. Those who’d wanted to burn the world down. To make it a sinister place of fear and pain where they ruled with total brutality, and held supremacy over the siblings they viewed as weak and kind-hearted. Those who thought the Nine Worlds should be shared and protected.

  That protection was something Kalder agreed with. Even at his worst, he’d never been the type to tread on anyone’s freedom. Not for any reason. That was where he differed most from his brothers.

  And it was something he shared with Cameron and Paden Jack. They were remnants of the Sephirii—the Kalosum army that had once protected the weaker species against their darker brethren. Those who’d wanted balance and light over all the lands—both enchanted and not. Gods of peace and prosperity, who believed the worlds could, and should, be shared, and that hatred and intolerance should be banished from them forever.

  Unable to come to terms with one another or find common ground, those two great armies had almost destroyed everyone and everything in their quest to put each other down.

  Including the gods they fought for.

  For centuries, their war had torn the worlds apart and laid waste to countless lives. Led to utter destruction.