Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 144411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
And all of the Nightwind’s crew has gone completely still.
They’re all focused on Aerik, who has his arm around the young boy that brought us water and bread, holding a marlinespike against his temple. His hand is shaking, no doubt due to the fervor that’s masking his damaged arm but he still looks like he could kill the boy in an instant.
“Give me the ship’s boat,” Aerik sneers. “Or I’ll drive this spike right into this little boy’s brain.”
My gaze goes to the captain. For once he looks completely worried, his dark brows furrowed, his jaw tense, and a faint sense of anguish in his eyes. I wonder if this is the captain’s son?
And while I never give Aerik much credit—he’s often more bark than bite, except when it comes to dealing with me—he looks positively deranged now and unpredictable. I wouldn’t be surprised if he followed through with his threat.
“I said, give me the ship’s boat and let me find my safety, or this child is dead. Do you understand?”
“If the child is dead, your wife is dead,” Sterling grunts, his breath raspy and wet in my ear.
“I wasn’t planning on taking her with me at any rate,” Aerik snipes. He looks back to the captain. “Do we have a deal?”
All eyes are on the captain now.
“I don’t make deals,” the captain says gravely, his eyes focused intently on the little boy, as if telling him a message. “And you’re not leaving this ship, Prince Aerik.”
Aerik’s eyes go wide with surprise, then rage, and I fear he’s about to kill the little boy. And after that, Sterling might kill me. What use am I if the prince is gone? His survival means my survival.
My eyes are glued to Aerik’s grip as it tightens on the rusted spike and he makes the motion to stab the boy and I can’t help but cry out “No! Aerik, stop!”
But the words barely leave my mouth as a small man leaps from behind Aerik like he’s part monkey, and tackles him from above. Aerik is knocked to the ground and the boy manages to escape his grasp, running over to the captain’s side who ushers the boy behind him.
Aerik grapples with the man, still wielding the spike, and somehow manages to get the advantage for just long enough to drive the spike right into the side of the man’s head.
I gasp while Sterling goes, “That one hurts,” and yet no one else in the crew seems all that bothered by the fact that their mate has a spike sticking out of his temple. Instead, two of the crew members start walking to Aerik, who looks in shock at what he just did.
He looks even more in shock when the man he just stabbed suddenly reaches up and pulls the spike out of his head and tosses it to the deck. Just a thin trickle of blood comes out of his head and he staggers to his feet, staring down at Aerik.
“You want to kill me, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”
CHAPTER 9
Ramsay
Drakos kicks the marlinespike away as he walks over to the rail, one palm pressed against his temple. Poor cunt, I know he must be in pain. I’ll have to give him extra rations later as a way of saying thanks. While the entire crew is strong, no one has the spritely agility that Drakos has, leaping from mast to mast, balancing on thin rope, doing twists and rolls in the air like a god damned acrobat. In hand-to-hand combat he is a most formidable asset and he’ll do it with a smile on his face.
Except now the Greek isn’t laughing. That wound might take longer than usual to heal. Best he stays out of the game to heal for a bit.
“What should we do with him, Captain?” Horse asks as he holds onto a struggling prince, Matisse on his other side. “I seen the cell, she’s taken a beatin’ from the roundshots.”
I nod at Lothar. “See what welding you can do on the cell and if there needs to be reinforcements in the hold, if anyone is still alive down there. And the ship might need some repairs in the hull from the rounds.” I look to Horse and Matisse. “In the meantime, put him in the chains. At least that will keep him in one spot.”
“Chains!” the prince cries out and he looks so indignant that I feel myself losing control. He can’t deal with chains and yet he was prepared to kill Henry before my eyes?
I move like the wind and I’m at the prince in a second, pushing him against the rise of the quarterdeck, my pistol drawn and pressed up against his chin.
“I don’t know how many times I have to hurt you, Prince,” I practically growl at him. “But it’s starting to eat into my time. Still, if you ever, ever threaten Henry again, I will cut off your cock and feed it to you with a spoon.”