Page 18 of Immortal Pirates

“The man you killed?” The man’s lips flattened with disgust.

Raine could smell acute distaste and banked fury coming from the mate, which prompted him to firmly clarify: “The manwho died when I defended myself against his attempt to throw me overboard. That man.”

“There’s no proof of that.”

Raine’s estimation of the man notched up a bit. He had principle and dedication. “Did you happen to notice the marking on his back? Up near the shoulder?” He demonstrated, brushing his hand over the location of his own Mark of Lucifer.

“The tattoo? Looked like a tree root, growing down from his—beneath his hair here.” Bladsoe’s eyes narrowed. “Unusual mark for a sea mate, but there’s all kinds.”

“That’s right. All kinds.” Raine hesitated only a moment, then made a decision that if Arial trusted Bladsoe with her life, ship, and confidences—and seemingly with good reason—he could do so as well. Especially if it would help to keep her safe. “I have the same Mark.”

The other man looked at him, as if waiting for Raine to explain further.

He hesitated again, but plunged on. For if Cezar Moldavi had sent Fergus onto theBlack Lass, it might have been only to kill Raine…but it could also mean he had the ship and its captain in his evil sights, and that would put Arial in even more danger.

She’d told him that Moldavi’s men had destroyed her previous ship. So somehow, she had already crossed his path and drawn his evil attention.

“The Mark puts both Fergus and myself—along with several hundred others in this world—in a certain…group.” Damn. He was butchering this. The problem was, Raine didn’t want to tell him about the Dracule. The fewer who knew in the world, the better.

“A group?” Bladsoe was still looking at him with a jaundiced expression.

“A special group. With certain abilities.”

“What sort of abilities?”

Raine shook his head. Devil take it, he shouldn’t have even begun this discussion. That’s what concern over a woman could do to a man, blast it. All sense goes out the door. “I just need to know what you know about Fergus. How long was he a mate on this ship?” In order to incentivize the other man to talk, he fired up his eyeglow once more.

Predictably, Bladsoe’s gaze dulled—and with that, Raine was reminded of his failure to apply even the lightest of allure to Captain Arial Bonny. It was usually so simple. What was the problem here?

“He was hired on only at last port in Havana,” replied the first mate. “Him and Lorimar were. Together.”

So much for Arial Bonny’s previous assurances to Raine that her entire crew was loyal and long-serving. As well as being the type who took pleasure with other men instead of women.

“He and Lorimar were together.”

A flash of concern had Raine turning up the heat of his gaze. “I need to speak to Lorimar, Bladsoe. Why don’t you go find him for me. Send him here.”

As Bladsoe turned to do as directed, the ship gave a pronounced lurch. Nothing in the chamber moved, as it was all bolted to the ground. Even the navigational tools and logbook on the captain’s desk hardly shifted, as they were arranged in low-sided compartments on the table top.

Nevertheless, the unexpected and violent movement had Raine whipping his attention to the window where he’d last seen the strong, graceful night hawk flying toward the storm.

It seemed, Raine realized with a sudden deep gouge in his belly, that the storm had arrived far sooner than expected.

And Arial was somewhere in the midst of it.

4

Arial knew her sharp, powerful beak couldn’t actually form a smile—but if it could, she would have been grinning from ear to ear as she coasted on the sharp blast of wind.

Free.

There was nothing like the experience of powerful winds rippling over her feathers, buffeting her along with it as she tipped and angled her wings to glide through the air. She felt the sensation riffling, sleeking over every single feather on her body: from the long, smooth ones that formed her wing tips and tail to the softer, downy ones under her wings and chin, to the broad, silky white ones covering her body.

She could see far and wide and yet could discern the shape of a fish swimming too close to the surface yards below. She felt the sullen heat ease from the air as the storm barreled in. She even dove directly into the wind once or twice, just to give herself the chance to fight against it, to use her muscles and the power of her wings to dance with Mother Nature.

There were moments like this when Arial was tempted to remain in this form forever.

But then she thought about pleasures (and challenges) like Raine St. Albans, and she admitted she loved her human form as well.