Page 16 of Crossbones
And he’s entirely more beguiling than I imagined. Everyone failed to mention he’s a strikingly handsome man. The dim light of the lantern makes him look haunting—all sharp edges and shadows. A long black captain’s jacket hangs from a body built for war. His collar is turned up, brushing against black hair half tied back off his face, and a short, neatly trimmed beard hugs a well-defined jaw. His eyes glitter harshly with intense dislike as he looks down at me. He’s looking at me like he wants to kill me and something settles low in my gut. When he’d held me at knife point earlier, it’d been a nearly electrifying experience, and I don’t know if it stemmed from the adrenaline of being on the edge of death or from the proximity of the notorious pirate from legend ,who just so happens to be hot.
The look on his face is the same as when hediscovered I’m a noble of the Five Houses. He even guessed correctly—which is concerning—if not slightly impressive. Although I’m not about to tell him he’s right. After a long moment of staring at each other, Blackwell speaks.
“Why is a De’Vero ship so far outside Seven Landings?”
I shrug. “Sightseeing.”
Blackwell tilts his head ever so slightly. He flicks a finger and the Viking unlocks the cell and advances on me with a sick smile on his face. I may have kicked his ass earlier, but he still packs a solid punch. I scramble to get my feet under me, only for the hit to send me back onto one knee. My ears ring as blood explodes across my tongue.
“You will not lie to me again,” Blackwell states.
I look up warily at the blond monstrosity who’s looming over me and let out a scoff. “Well, that’s just unrealistic.”
“Why is a De’Vero noble way out here at Verdun?” Blackwell asks.
“First, I never said I was De’Vero—second, what’s wrong with a noble getting out to sightsee?”
“You are not sightseeing,” Blackwell says, sounding slightly exasperated.
I straighten, dabbing gingerly at my lip. “I don’t know, Verdun is stunning this time of year, don’t you—” I’m cut off by another punch to the gut. All the air leaves me as I double over.
“What is the name of your Captain?” Blackwell asks.
I straighten, still sucking in air with ragged inhales. “You’re looking at him.”
“You.”
It’s a statement, his tone incredulous, and for the first time I bristle in offense. Does he really not think I look capable of commanding a ship?
“Yes. Me.” My voice sounds like sand over rocks. “Is that surprising?”
He brushes off the question. “Why is a De’Vero noble captaining a ship andagain—” He stresses the word. “—why are you so far away from Seven Landings?”
I want to tell himagainthat I never admitted to being a De’Vero but I stay silent. The Viking shifts and I brace as his fist comes for me.
Once, twice—then a third time—the sick bastard.
I’m back on one knee, wiping blood from my mouth, when Blackwell speaks again.
“Answer me,” he demands.
“You said not to lie to you,” I state, enjoying the look of rage seeping across his face. “If I answer you, it will be with a lie.”
Blackwell bares his teeth at me but the quiet one speaks up for the first time.
“Don’t you know who this is?” He scoffs angrily. “He’s one of t’mostfeared—”
“Yes, yes,” I wave away his comment with a soft clink of my chains as I get to my feet. “The notorious James Blackwell—the devil of the seas, the villain in all the children’s tales—theStormbreaker—a fearsome reputation to be sure,” I glance at Blackwell. “But a man all the same.”
Blackwell makes a small, thoughtful sound as he stares at me. “Some would say I’m more monster than man.”
“I’m too old for bedtime stories, Captain,” I state in a bored tone.
If he’s trying to scare me, he’s going to have to try harder—a lotharder.
Blackwell tilts his head at me and his scowl deepens. “Then I’ll come to you in your nightmares, Fox.”
I let out a quiet laugh. Joke’s on him—my nightmares are already full of monsters so much worse.
