Fifteen minutes feels like an eternity, but it isn’t nearly long enough for someone to come looking for me. Exhaustion weighs me down and I flop back onto the mattress. Okay, Evelyn. Think. There’s a way out of this, but you don’t need a solution right now. If they need to make port to gear you up, then that will be your first chance to run. In the meantime … behave.
Easier said than done.
I force myself into motion. A quick search through the chest comes up with a sad assortment of clothing. I finally find a pair of pants that fits well enough and a loose white shirt that would do any pirate on the cover of a romance novel proud. There are no bras to be found, so I grimace and set aside my damp one. Shoes are also a problem, and I’m exceedingly glad I was wearing my boots when I went through the portal.
The bathroom is rustic, but it’s got running water and an honest-to-gods toilet. I frown at it for several beats before I decide I don’t care about the semantics of disposal. For all I know, the human waste feeds the magic keeping this pocket dimension going.
I take a quick shower, braid my hair back from my face, and dress in my new clothes. I can’t help humming “It’s a Pirate’s Life for Me” under my breath. This whole situation is just too ridiculous. Or at least that’s the bit I have to focus on to prevent myself from having a full-on breakdown when faced with the reality of my circumstances.
The door opens and a person with gray-blue skin, short dark gray hair, and eyes with no white walks in. They’re built curvy, a few sizes smaller than me, and have a face that I would term innocent … if not for those eyes. Or the delicately pointed ears peeking out from their mop of hair. Another half fae, though if their other half is human, I’ll eat my boot.
“Lucky, I presume?”
“Yes.” Their voice is soft but strangely rough. “The captain wants you in his quarters.”
My brows wing up. “Forward of him.”
Their lips quirk in something that’s almost a smile. It flashes teeth that are … very, very sharp. The more I look at them, the more they remind me of a shark in human skin. “He always dines with new crew members on their first night aboard. It allows him to give them a full rundown of expectations so there are no … misunderstandings.”
Oh. Of course. That makes perfect sense to avoid unnecessary complications and friction. And Bowen strikes me as too much of a control freak to leave that up to his quartermaster or another of the crew. As little as I like the idea of more time spent alone with him, I’d rather deal with him than his quartermaster any day. “Sounds great.”
“You know the way?”
I bite back a snarky reply. I’m supposed to be endearing these people to me and that’s impossible to do if I keep snapping at them. More than that, Lucky gives me the impression that they would be too happy to take a bite out of me if I annoy them. “I do. Thanks.”
There are more crew members about as I move through the hall and back to the door that leads to the rest of the ship. People of every shape and color and a few with distinctly nonhuman features. The only place I’ve seen a crowd even close to as diverse as this is the Shadow Market that occurs during Samhain, and even then I can identify most of the types of paranormals who attend. The same can’t be said of this crew.
I step out the door and nearly run into the quartermaster. His scaled skin is a deep red that makes me take a step back before I catch myself. I’m certain it was green earlier. Mostly certain.
He flicks his tongue at me. “Tomorrow, you’re on first shift in the kitchen. Skirt your duties and you’ll be punished.”
“Oooh, promise?” Damn it, why did I say that?
He narrows his eyes. “It’s dangerous at sea. Troublemakers have a habit of suffering accidents. Keep that in mind, witch.”
I don’t have time to come up with a snappy reply before he shoulders past me and disappears belowdecks. Apparently he won’t be joining my fan club anytime soon. Shocking. I head for the captain’s quarters, and it’s only as I’m opening the door and stepping instead that my nerves threaten to get the best of me.
Or maybe it’s the sight of the captain that brings me up short. He’s changed in the time since I saw him last. He’s still wearing that damned crimson cloak, but beneath it, he has on fitted black pants tucked into knee-high boots and a white shirt that looks to be an exact match to mine.
In fact, his eyes narrow at the sight. “Did you steal my shirt?”
For once, I’m innocent of any thievery, but I’m not about to let that get in the way of my reputation. “Finders keepers, remember?”
He opens his mouth as if he’s about to demand the shirt back but seems to catch himself before the words escape. Probably because it would be an abuse of power to demand a member of his crew strip. Paladins, am I right?
He shakes his head. “Sit down and let’s get this over with.”
CHAPTER 7
Bowen
MY ENTIRE CREW KNOWS MY CUSTOM OF SHARING A meal with new members the first night they are aboard. It’d be strange if I skipped that ritual with the witch. People might get the wrong idea, and that would only give Miles more ammunition against me. I saw the way my people watched me on the deck earlier. There’s doubt where there wasn’t any a mere month ago.
The worst part is that I don’t know how to combat it. I am a good captain. I’ve been trained by the best to be honorable and fair. We do our duty and answer the orders sent by the Council to kill monsters to protect Threshold, and the crews are rewarded generously as a result. I’ve ensured that this ship is as comfortable as possible and no one is going without.
I might not be the most charming or effusive captain, but I take care of my people. I never thought there’d come a day when that wouldn’t be enough, but no matter what I do, Miles continues to chip away at the goodwill my crew holds for me.
Evelyn’s arrival may just be the final thing to sway the majority of them to vote for him. It certainly will be if I start acting against type.
It still might have been better than standing in a room alone with Evelyn, who is wearing what I’m nearly certain is one of my shirts. On her, the V in the front looks downright indecent. The pants aren’t much better, clinging to her round thighs just as lovingly as her denim did earlier. I realize I’m staring at her body and I jerk my gaze back to her face, but it’s no better than last time. It’s not that she’s beautiful, though she is. The danger is in the glint in her uncanny green eyes that invites anyone present to be in on the joke.
Considering I’m pretty sure that I am the joke in this scenario, I’m not a fan.
Best to get this over with. I motion to the small table tucked up against one wall. “Shall we?”
“By all means.” She turns and walks to the table, which is a mistake of its own, because it gives me a view of her full backside. I’m going to need this woman to wear different pants that don’t cling to her body so closely. She is the very definition of a distraction. Maybe I can ask Kit to find her something. Ne is built both taller and with enough muscle that surely Evelyn would swim in nir clothes …
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been around beautiful people before, and I’ve never lost my cool quite so quickly or effectively. The fact that she’s one of my crew members only complicates things further. No matter what else is true, there is a deep power imbalance between me and the rest of my crew. The sole exception is perhaps Miles, but I barely tolerate the man and I’m certainly not going to jump into bed with him. I take my pleasure in port towns with partners who expect nothing but the pleasure I’m happy to give. It’s an equitable give-and-take where we all leave satisfied. Such a thing is impossible if I’m living in that person’s proximity day in and day out.