Deadmen Walking

“Sorry, Kal, it slipped from me hands. Won’t happen again.”

  “See that it don’t. Or else I’ll be plaguing and poxing a piece of your anatomy you’re going to miss using.”

  “Here, Mr. Dupree.”

  Cameron bit back a scream as Captain Bane literally appeared out of nowhere to stand beside Kalder with a towel for him. He handed it off, then began to help shout orders as they cast off for the open seas.

  Too stunned to speak, she watched as Kalder’s skin and coloring returned to normal, though “normal” was beginning to take on a whole new meaning with this particular group.

  Kalder cast an amused grimace toward her. “You handled that well, for an air-breather. Surely, you have questions about it … and me?”

  Aye, she did—of course she did. But the more she looked at this crew …

  She didn’t know where to begin as her head spun from the madness of it all. The riggers moved along the masts and lines with inhuman skill. It was terrifying to watch the way they scaled the spiny wood and thick ropes to drop sails, without fear or hesitation. The way all of them rushed about, displaying talents that hadn’t been born of this world or of a typical woman. Surely, they were demons all.

  This is a crew of the damned.

  And she’d walked right onboard. Voluntarily.

  With both feet.

  What have I done? She’d given no real thought to joining them. Not really. Rather, she’d placed her trust in total strangers she knew nothing about. And that wasn’t like her. Ever. Cameron Maire Jack trusted no one. Never in her life had she done such as this.

  Was she really that desperate?

  Of course I am.

  Without Paden, she had nothing in this world. She had no one. Even before her parents had died, she’d worshiped her older brother. He’d been everything to her. Her best friend and protector. Her confidant and playmate.

  While her parents’ deaths had been hard to bear, news of his had devastated her to a level she’d never known existed. The pain had been unimaginable. Indescribable. Sent her reeling into a despair she had yet to recover from.

  Since the day she’d learned what death meant when she was a girl at age five and her favorite pup had perished after tangling with a fox, she’d known that her parents would precede her to the grave. That was to be expected, as it was the way of things. The natural order that children outlived their parents and carried on their lineage.

  But Paden …

  Five years her elder, he was to always be here. Always. No matter what, he wasn’t to leave her alone in this miserable world. He’d sworn that to her. That he would be forever by her side to keep her safe. He wouldn’t fail her or his word. Not for anything. Not for anyone. It would always be the two of them. Thick and thin, and all that lay in between. Not even the devil and all his demons would keep her brother from her.

  That had been his vow every night of her life when he’d tucked her into bed.…

  Have no fear.

  Keep your cheer.

  It’ll always be

  You and me.

  Thick and thin

  To the end.

  Neither heaven nor hell

  Will keep me from me Cammy-belle.

  How could Paden have broken her heart so? Did he not know that it wasn’t his life he’d lost at sea?

  It was hers.

  But worse than that, he’d taken her faith and hopes with him to the grave. Her heart. Her belief in God Himself. Truly, she was now a hollowed-out shell with nothing inside except a profound, unending pain, and a sense of loss so deep she feared she’d never feel anything else ever again.

  “I think we’ve sent her into shock.”

  Cameron turned at the high-pitched feminine voice to find …

  Well, she wasn’t quite sure what this newcomer was. Only an inch taller, she was dressed in a high-fashion robe à l’anglais, yet it was made of sackcloth. Her skin didn’t appear human, but rather was made of straw.…

  She smiled at Cameron. “You have that look, dearest.”

  Cameron blinked in confusion. “What look is that?”

  The woman sighed in that odd voice of hers as she cast her gaze toward Bart. “It’s the look, isn’t it?”

  “Aye. But you can’t fault her for it, really.”

  “Suppose.” She let out another heartfelt sigh. “Still, I’d like to meet someone and not have it anymore.”

  “Have what?” Cameron asked with a frown.

  “The look that says I’m a freak,” she whispered in an ominous tone. “Name’s Valynda. And yes, I’m not human … though I was at one time. ’Til a love spell went awry and this became the consequences of it.”

  Cameron paled. “What?”

  She held her hands up in helpless despair. “Wasn’t my spell, mind you. Rather, the idiot who wanted to make me love him. He bought a lwa from a witch, and this is what it did to me because he knew naught what he was doing. Sucked my soul straight into the doll and there was nothing to be done for it.”

  “Nothing?” Cameron asked, aghast at what she was hearing. Was this even real? Was any of this possible? Surely she was dreaming.…

  No one could be turned into a living rag doll. Could they?

  By accident? Truly it was a horrifying thought.

  William shook his head. “Superstitious preacher burned her body. Left her in a bit of a pickle, indeed.”

  Valynda nodded. “But for Lady Belle, I’d have been trapped in between forever.”

  In between what?

  Cameron wasn’t sure she wanted to know that answer, so she asked the other question that plagued her. “Belle?”

  “Our doctor,” Bart said, jerking his chin toward one of the riggers. “Belle Morte’s one you don’t want to run afoul of. She’s a powerful maven who can give the strongest hell beasties a run for their money.”

  Cameron scowled at the sight of a beautiful dark-skinned woman who seemed harmless enough—until she pulled out a large machete to slash expertly at the ties of a sail before flipping down to land on the deck with the skill of a master assassin. In one fluid, graceful movement, she sheathed her weapon then shimmied up another rope. Aye, the deadliest objects were often the most beautiful. “An Obia?”

  “Nay, love. Something much, much darker. We don’t speak of it, lest we offend her and she curse us for it.”

  Cameron crossed herself. What have you gotten me into, brother? She’d come here seeking help and salvation for the two of them. Yet there was no salvation on this ship. Never had she seen a more damned lot in all her life. If ever there was a crew bound to Lucifer’s lowest pit, this had to be it.

  And she was sailing in the midst of them all, straight for hell’s domain.

  Stark cold terror seized her as a rotten feeling crept through her very soul. “Question, Mr. Death?”

  “Aye, lass?”

  “Am I the only human on board this ship?”

  To her deepest chagrin, he hesitated. And when he finally answered, it wasn’t what she wanted to hear and gave her no comfort whatsoever. “Define the word ‘human.’”

  3

  “Am I the only human on board this ship?”

  Devyl didn’t so much as blink at Cameron’s question as she came to rest right in front of him where he was issuing orders to the riggers on deck. If anything, the good captain appeared bored by her while they left the port behind and broke into open sea. “Suppose it depends on the definition one uses for ‘human.’”

  She gave him an irritated, droll stare as he repeated his quartermaster’s words in a bland mumble. “I am unamused by your hedging, Captain.”

  He arched a sardonic black brow with a look that caused a chill to run down her spine. “Who says I’m hedging?”

  It was a titanic effort not to roll her eyes at a man—or perhaps infernal beast would be more accurate—who she was quite certain might very well suck out her immortal soul and feast upon it. “Can you at least tell me why I was brought on board this ship, then?”
r />   “For your protection.”

  Why did she have such a hard time believing that? Probably because she couldn’t imagine a more dangerous group in existence than the one rushing around her.

  “From?”

  Forget the crew, she was beginning to doubt if there could be anything more lethal or terrifying than the creatures who called this ship home.

  He let out a long, slow breath as if seeking some sort of patience. “We are not your enemies, Miss Jack. Of that much you can rest assured. While we might be an unsavory, untoward, and uncivilized group, we are not without our honor.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we reserve our venom for those who’ve earned it.”

  And those words failed to comfort her. “You’ll have to forgive me if your benediction causes me alarm.”

  “No need to apologize. You’ve every right to fear us. As I said, we are an unsavory lot.” He turned those dark, soulless eyes toward her, and this time, she saw for a fact that they did indeed turn red as blood.

  They glowed in the darkness with an unholy light.

  “And an acquired taste.”

  Yelping at his sinister tone, she jumped back on the deck and crossed herself as true, unmitigated horror engulfed her. This was not what she’d meant to sign on with when she’d promised herself and Lettice that she’d find her brother no matter what and bring him home. She had already been gone longer on this quest than she’d ever anticipated. Longer than Nathaniel Harrison would forgive her for.

  Nor had she meant to find the devil’s ship and his crew to sail with. No doubt to hell itself they were bound!

  Dear heaven, I’ve consigned myself to Perdition.…

  Everything had seemed so simple when she’d opened her brother’s letter and first set out to locate him. She was to come to Port Royal and ask a few questions. Find out why Paden hadn’t come home after the shipwreck that he’d obviously survived. Take him to task for being so cryptic in his missive, then return home to her life with her wayward brother in tow, and let Lettice beat him sideways for his thoughtlessness and the worry he’d given them.

  This was never supposed to be part of it. And the horrifying captain in front of her was definitely not part of the bargain.

  Bane froze as he witnessed the absolute stark terror inside Cameron. She literally quivered by his side to such an extent he was amazed she didn’t wet the planks beneath her feet.

  There had been a time once when he’d lived to instill that amount of fear and intimidation in others. When the sight of petrified men had been mother’s milk to his cold, dead heart. Compassion and tenderness had been virtually unknown to his warring people.

  And yet …

  In the flash of one single heartbeat, his mind took him back to the days when he hadn’t been the leader of his race. To the time before he’d first taken a life in battle and had been nothing more than the beloved older brother of his younger sister.

  No longer on this ship, he was again in the green meadows where he’d run as a boy. And as was his wont, he was off to join his friends to hunt for game and play for a rare afternoon of freedom—something he’d worked and suffered hard for.

  And as was typical of his sister, Elyzabel was hot on his heels, annoying the very piss from him. Five years his junior, she was a tiny wisp of a thing, yet she thought herself his equal in size and abilities.

  “What are you about, Du? Why are you carrying Ta’s spear? Does he know you have it?”

  “Aye, he knows. Why are you bothering me now with your inane prattle? Off with you! Isn’t there someone else you can annoy for once besides me? We have a sister, you know. Surely, she’s more suited to your tastes than I.”

  But she’d never preferred Edyth’s company over his. And not that he blamed her that. Edyth was a futtocking handful on her best day.

  “Are you off to hunt? Can I come? Please, please!”

  “Nay!” Turning on his heels, he’d growled at Elyzabel. Then froze as he saw the tangles in her brown hair and the dirt on her freckled cheeks. More than that, he noted that, beneath the dirt, a bruise had started to form that deepened the shade of her amber eyes, and there was a tear in her dress.

  Though scarce more than tick-size, she was ever ready to stand toe to toe with him, never flinching in her temerity whenever he’d said or done anything that displeased her. She would even dare to shove at him when no man save their father would so much as meet his gaze in anger.

  Shout in his face whenever she was mad at him.

  She even stood up to their father during his most drunken rages.

  Her guts and fire had always amused and amazed him, even when he’d wanted to put her through a wall for not listening to him, or refusing to hide when it was the more prudent thing to do. In all his life, he’d never loved anyone as much as he’d loved his little sister.

  Not even Vine.

  But while he might have verbally fought with his sister whenever she pushed the boundaries of his patience and all common sense, by the very gods, no one else was allowed to do such and no one was ever to lay hands to her.

  No one.

  Not even their father. And he had the scars to prove it.

  “What’s all this about?” he asked, indicating her cheek.

  Elyzabel glanced away. “’Tis naught. Can I come with you?”

  “Elf…” he’d chided, cupping her chin and gentling his tone with her. “Tell me what happened to you, lass.”

  She let out a long sigh before she finally screwed her face up and confessed it. “’Twas the beast!”

  “Derphin?”

  “Nay. The other hairy one I hate most of all.”

  “Ilex?”

  “Aye! He said a girl wasn’t fit to climb a tree and that I should get back to me mum’s breast before I got hurt. So I climbed the tree to show him what a girl could do, and then he shoved me down and we fought about it.”

  Those words had ignited his fuse. “He hit you?”

  She nodded.

  That had been the first time Devyl had met the part of himself that had made him famous on the battlefield. That cold, unreasoning beast that wouldn’t stop until he had his enemy lying in pieces at his feet, either dead or begging for a mercy he’d never shown anyone save his precious Elyzabel.

  Only Elf had ever stayed his furious hand. Only her tears had ever moved him to mercy or compassion.

  Until today.

  Something about Cameron reminded him of his precious sister, and this tiny chit touched the last shred of a humanity he’d thought had gone to the grave with his Elf.

  Sink me.…

  Cameron swallowed hard as she met Bane’s fierce, bloody gaze. For the first time, she saw the slightest softening of his demonic countenance. The merest glimpse of a soul beneath the evil.

  His grimace lightened as he held one large hand out toward her. “There’s no need in that, lass.”

  Refusing to give in to her terror, she forced herself to her feet and fell back on the strength Paden had taught her to stand on after the death of their parents.

  Let no one see your weakness, Cam. Ever. We are Jacks, by God. And Jacks don’t buckle or fold.

  In it for a half-pence. In it for a pound.

  For that matter, she was in this whole matter way over her head. No way out now. Hell, or high water.

  Or damnation itself.

  Whatever it took. She had no choice, except to see it through.

  “I still don’t understand why it is you brought me here, Captain.”

  “Truth? Neither do I. Other than I fear something quite unholy has taken control of your brother. My experience with such things is that when they happen and the poor bastard who’s held in thrall reaches out to an innocent such as yourself … the consequences are always dire to said innocent, especially when it involves something as important as the trinket in your pocket.”

  “It’s not a worthless bauble, then?”

  The wind whipped at his wavy black hair while hi
s eyes faded back to their ebony color. He glanced across the stormy sea surrounding them. “Quite the contrary, Miss Jack. Wars have been waged for that bit of gold you keep, and countless throats cut. Tell no one else you carry it. Ever.” He glowered at her. “How your brother managed to get that to you is what puzzles me most.”

  “It came in the post.”

  He gaped at her as he found that the most incredulous bit of all. As if it defied all reason.

  She held her hand up in solemn testimony. “I swear it. I thought it nothing more than a letter that must have been sent before he left on his voyage. I kept it nigh on a fortnight before I could bring myself to open it to read it, and then when I did…”

  “Did anything strange happen to you around the time you received it?”

  “Other than meeting all of you and the lady Menyara?”

  His dark grimace said that he didn’t appreciate her humor.

  She softened her own expression to let him know she was teasing. “Nay, Captain. Nothing untoward.” In fact, she’d not had so much as a nightmare since receiving it, which was strange given that she’d had a number of them before it came.

  “Very peculiar, indeed.”

  Cameron narrowed her gaze on him as he continued to watch the dark waters around them, as if seeking something only he could detect. “What is it that you’re not telling me?”

  The red returned to his eyes an instant before he dropped his coat from his shoulders in one fast, graceful shrug and unsheathed his cutlass. “Kalder! Off to port! Sancha, bring a spring upon her cable! They’re coming up our stern!” He took Cameron’s arm and gently nudged her toward William while Kalder jumped over the side, into the sea below. “Seal her to my quarters for the fight.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” William grabbed her fast and hauled her away.

  But not before she saw what was rising up from the bowels of the stygian waves to engage them.

  Holy mother and all her saints…!

  Cameron couldn’t breathe at the sight of what had to be Lucifer’s own prized pet shark he’d crossbred with an octopus. Scaly, huge, and tentacled like nothing she’d ever seen or heard of, it came after them while the crew took aim and fired cannons at it. The deck beneath her feet vibrated from the recoil of it all. Her ears rang from the sharp percussion.