Vengeance of the Pirate Queen(7)

“Those are good things,” she points out.

“Not if he thinks those changes entitle him to me. I’m not some sort of reward for good behavior.”

At that, Alosa straightens. “Has he laid a finger on you?”

“No.”

“Has he made any suggestive or lewd comments?”

“No.”

“Do you have any reason to believe you’re in any sort of danger from him?”

I pause, giving the words serious thought. “No.”

She cocks her head to one side. “Then what’s the problem?”

I finally drop my carefully composed features. I never can seem to manage my stoicism long around her. “I’m not like you, Alosa. I’m not used to men looking at me and wanting me. I like to hide. I like to be unseen. I don’t want people thinking about me at all. But Kearan? He sees me. He always seems to find where I’m hiding.”

Knocking comes at the door, but Alosa doesn’t move to open it. “It’s been over a year since he quit drinking on our trip to the Isla de Canta. Now that he’s been sober so long, he’s really come into his own.”

I just stare at her.

She shrugs. “He’s actually funny and smart and trustworthy. Besides, he likely doesn’t even think about you anymore. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.”

I don’t even blink.

She sighs. “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s time for you to stop hiding?”

The knock comes again, and Alosa leaves me to ponder that while she answers the door.

Stop hiding? Ludicrous. I’m an assassin. Hiding is what I do. It’s how I stay good at my job. I have to keep sharp if I’m to remain useful to Alosa.

She admits none other than Kearan into the room.

My walls go back up immediately.

When he sees me, he freezes, before a smile graces his lips. “You’re back.”

“Obviously,” I say.

He gives me a once-over, but there’s nothing heated in the gesture. It’s almost like he’s … looking for injuries. Either way, I look pointedly at Alosa. See?

“Kearan,” she says, succeeding in taking his gaze off me.

“You sent for me?” he asks, and I realize that must have been what Alosa whispered to Riden.

“I have a job for you. I’m assembling a crew led by Captain Sorinda Veshtas to find a missing ship, and I’d like you to be the sailing master for the voyage.”

There’s a pause in which I feel Kearan’s gaze shift to me briefly before resettling on Alosa. I don’t let a single muscle on my face twitch.

“If Captain Veshtas is amenable, I am happy to serve,” Kearan says.

Of course he’s happy to. I want to scowl, but I remain strong.

Alosa turns to me. “Are you amenable, Captain?”

I blink at her, let the silence fill the room until it grows to uncomfortable depths. Finally, I turn to Kearan. Stars, but he’s a big man. Wide enough for two men, tall enough to tower over everyone. His white skin bears a light tan from all the time in the sun, but he’s not handsome by any stretch of the word. Though he’s finally trimmed his hair and beard, his nose is large and has been broken too many times. His eyes are too far apart on his face.

It’s one of the few things I do like about him: the fact that he’s not handsome. He looks real, like a man hardened by life on the sea, though I would never admit that to anyone. Not even Alosa.

He wears a black coat that’s now just a size too big for him with his weight loss. Muscle has replaced most of the fat, and what fat is left looks good on him. Again, it makes him look real. The coat has dozens of pockets sewn onto it, which used to hold all his flasks of rum.

Those are now floating around in the ocean somewhere, thanks to me.

He’s not much older than me. Before I left to take care of Vordan, Enwen put together a surprise party to celebrate Kearan’s twentieth birthday (which he hated). I had my eighteenth birthday just last week overseas, which was nice. There was no one aboard the ship who knew me well enough to make a fuss.

Kearan doesn’t look away from my stare, which is impressive. There are few men who dare to hold my gaze. I can respect that, even knowing what I do about him.

“If you can follow orders, I have no problem with you joining the crew.” If I can pretend like he doesn’t get to me, then eventually he’ll grow bored and move on. It works on bullies, so why not enthusiastic men?

Kearan nods once. He asks, “What direction are we headed?”

“Northeast of the Seventeen Isles,” Alosa says. She reaches into one of the long drawers of her desk and withdraws a map. She unrolls it and points to the new markings that must indicate the missing ship’s course before it disappeared. “The Wanderer was meant to look for land in uncharted waters. Last I heard, she was here.” Alosa points to where the trail ends.

Kearan’s back goes ramrod straight.

“What is it?” Alosa asks him.

“I’ve sailed that way before.”

Alosa points to the chair I vacated at Kearan’s entrance. “Tell me everything.”

I take position in a corner of the room. Near the door, I’ll be able to hear if anyone tries to listen in, and I like to be the closest to the escape route. Habit of my youth.