“I don’t make a habit of torturing people. It’s messy and they tell you only what you want to hear. It’s not a good way to get information.”
Her brows inch higher. “You’re not joking, are you? How horrifying.”
I find myself flushing, and resent that she provoked even such a small reaction. “Torture is not a joking matter.”
“I don’t think you’d know a joking matter if it slapped you in the face.” She wiggles, pushing against my magic binding her. “Now that I’m one of your crew, you should let me go. You’re violating a whole lot of maritime law right now.”
“I’m doing no such thing.” She’s right on one thing, though. I should let her go. Her chest is heaving in a very distracting way, pressing against the sheer fabric of her top. It’s more challenging than it should be to keep my gaze on her face. “The only maritime law in Threshold is what the Council of the C?n Annwn make it. You’re not in your realm anymore. Adjust.”
“Adjust,” she repeats slowly. I can practically see her twisty mind working overtime, looking for an angle to leverage and give her the advantage. “Wait, you said ‘Council.’ You have a ruling body?”
She’s going to be a pain in the ass. I can already see her searching for an angle to exploit. For the briefest moment, I’m tempted to follow Miles’s lead and toss her overboard to be someone else’s problem. I discard the thought immediately. That is not how we do things on this ship. “Pray you’ll never have cause to meet them. They are not as nice as I am.” There’s no avoiding Lyari entirely, not when captains are required to stop in periodically and show our face to the Council, but I very intentionally set my routes to avoid the Southwest so they have no excuse to call me to task more than strictly necessary.
“Nice,” she says faintly. “Right.”
She’s still not taking this seriously, but there’s little I can do about that. “Once you give your vow, I’ll release you and get you set up in your new bunk.”
“A bunk. Of course.” She wrinkles her nose. It’s a cute nose, and I hate that I notice that cuteness. “Oh well, let’s get this over with. What’s the vow?”
“I pledge myself to the C?n Annwn. To hunt when the moon is full and howl for the death of monsters. I will bathe in their blood and protect the weak.”
“Charming.”
“It’s tradition.” I hold up my hand. “It requires a bit of blood before you speak it.” I see her sly look only because I’m watching her so closely. And I’m watching her so closely only because she’s a threat, not because I like the way the low light plays in her bright green eyes. Unnaturally green, almost. Uncanny.
“Of course it does. Can’t have shady characters going back on their word.” She grins. Trouble. This woman is trouble. I have a whole ship full of the same kind of people, so I should be used to it by now, but there’s something about Evelyn that makes my skin prickle. Bringing her onto the crew is a mistake I’ll end up being the one to pay the price for, but there’s no other choice. The laws are laws for a reason. It’s not for me—or anyone else—to ignore them because they’re inconvenient.
I nod at her chest. More specifically, at the tattoos there. “I’ve never seen a witch cast spells like that.”
“Baby, I think we both know you’ve never met a witch like me.” Her grin widens and her uncanny gaze drops to my hips.
It takes every bit of self-control I have not to react to the sheer insinuation in her tone. She doesn’t mean it. She’s attempting to provoke a response. If I give her the benefit of the doubt, I could admit that she’s probably terrified out of her mind and attempting to get through this situation on pure bravado.
I’d be a fool to give her the benefit of the doubt. She might be scared, but that’s not the dominant emotion. I doubt this woman has ever walked into a situation and not immediately looked for ways to turn it to her advantage—and steal some shit along the way.
The vow will hold her. It’s held everyone else, and I see no reason for her to be the exception, even if she thinks she can wiggle her way out of it. I focus on my magic binding her and free one of her arms. I swear I see her considering an attack before she smiles sweetly as if she’s not a threat at all. “I’ll need something to cut myself with in order to make this vow.”
Again, my instincts demand I keep anything resembling a weapon out of this woman’s hands. Unfortunately, as a witch, she is a weapon. Especially with those spells inked onto her chest. Most witches I’ve encountered over the years are able to prep only a small number, limited by whatever spell material they carry on their person. With the spells tattooed onto Evelyn, there is no need to prepare. The only limit is her capacity for magic.
I reluctantly move closer and pull a dagger from the sheath on my belt. I don’t pass it over to her. Instead, I catch her wrist and flip her hand palm up. Her skin is startlingly soft. I have no business noticing that. I press the tip of the dagger to the fleshy part of her palm.
Evelyn stares at the tiny dot of blood. “That’s it?”
“The amount of blood matters little. You, of all people, should know that. Even a drop is linked to your life force. Now, the vow.”
She frowns a little, the expression so fleeting it’s gone almost as soon as I register it. “Do you have many witches on your crew?”
“In a moment, they’ll number at one.” I gave her palm a pointed glance. “You’re wasting both of our time. Either make the vow or I toss you back in the ocean.”
“Someone should really petition this C?n Annwn Council of yours to let them know that their rules suck.”
I don’t bother to respond to that ridiculous statement. The Council doesn’t make the rules. The originals did before they disappeared into the waves of history. No C?n Annwn has seen them in longer than anyone can remember, and some of our people live thousands of years. None among my crew has that kind of life span, but there’s an old hunter who is quartermaster to the Harpy. Once, when we happened to make port at the same time, we shared a drink. The stories he told, passed down from his grandfather who lived just as long as him, were enough to make me grateful that the originals don’t bother with us any longer.
It’s best not to do anything to draw their attention or cause them to stir from wherever they reside now. I’m not sure any of us would survive it if they did. “The vow, witch.”
She huffs out a breath but relents after a moment of pained silence. “I pledge myself to the C?n Annwn. To hunt when the moon is full and howl for the death of monsters. I will bathe in their blood and protect the weak.”
Winning this fight should feel more momentous than it does. Instead, all I feel is exhausted. This is only the first battle of many with this woman, and I’m already fighting on several fronts aboard the Hag. One wrong move will be enough to tip the careful balance I’ve fought so hard for … the same balance Miles is constantly striving to undermine.
“It’s done.” As much as I would like to keep this woman restrained until I can assure her good behavior, it’s no longer an option. I reluctantly withdraw my magic and set her carefully on the floor.