Page 51 of Crossbones
He looks up and down the street. I’d almost forgotten he didn’t want to come here.
“What? Why?” I ask, momentarily distracted.
Caspian shakes his head, muttering something I can’t hear. He turns to continue down the street and I frown once again at not getting any answers. I’m about to speak again when he stops so abruptly I nearly crash into him.
I come up beside him to see an older man standing in the road with six men flanking him. Six men with the Ralta crest on their chests.
The man smirks. “You know I didn’t believe it at first—”
He steps forward and his eyes travel down Caspian’s form in a way I definitely don’t like. Caspian’s face is drained of all color and I can see the way he’s trying to regulate his breathing. Fury simmers in his eyes, but it’s the fear I sense in him that makes me instantly on guard.
“I said there’s no way Caspian De’Vero would step foot back in Ironhold. But here I stand, corrected.” His eyes flicker to me. “And with the infamous Stormbreaker—this is unbelievable indeed.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
The man takes his time finishing his once over of Caspian before his oily gaze slides fully to me. His black eyes are assessing, shrewd and cold. He’s not quite as tall as I am but despite his age, he’s muscled and looks like he knows his way around a fight. Black hair hangs around his ears without any semblance of style.
“Lord Malik Hawthorne.” He smirks. “Overseer of this lovely town. Originally from Ralta of course—Caspian didn’t share any of this with you on the trip here?” His attention diverts to Caspian again as though he can’t bear to not be focused on him. “You really think you could come back here and I wouldn’t know?”
He takes a step towards Caspian, and the air on the street gets sucked away. The tension is so heavy I can feel it pushing down on me. I don’t like the look in Malik’s eyes—they’re filled with dark obsession. He raises his hand and the moment his knuckles touch Caspian’s cheek, chaos erupts.
Caspian punches Malik in the jaw, sending him staggering a few paces.I pull my pistol, aiming for Malik because fuck if anyone touches what I’ve apparently claimed as mine. But one of his men knocks into me and my shot goes wide. I throw myself into three of them, resorting to fists as I viciously beat them down. Caspian grabs for me.
“Come on,” he urges.
I see Malik staggering to his feet, nose bloody from the few blows Caspian got in. We take off and I yank him down a side street, intending to head to the safety of my contacts in the city.
“This way,” I bark.
We take a few more corners and for a moment I think we may have evaded them. My optimism disappears when we round a bend and run straight into a pack of soldiers—literally.
We slam into the group, sending several to the ground as we collide. The fight stirs up the dust in the street as bullets fly. Swords are out but it’s apparent we’re vastly outnumbered. There are more here than the six we took down prior.
“Enough!” Malik’s voice cuts through the fighting.
I glance over to see Caspian on one knee, breathing harshly through his nose and bleeding from a cut on his forehead. Malik has his gun pressed to his head. He’s still pale and I don’t like the look of defeat I see in his eyes.
“Call off your dog, Caspian,” Malik commands.
Caspian’s eyes flick to mine but before he can react to Malik’s request, steel gets pressed to my ribs. It’s over.
Malik rubs his jaw where a bruise is already forming from Caspian’s punch, and barks a laugh.
“I suppose I do deserve that.” He flashes Caspian a smile and waves his hand. “You never did make things easy. Bring them back to the fort. Caspian and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
JAMES
We’re in some sort of cellar in the bowels of the fort. The room has crude cells along one wall, while the other side holds barrels and stores of food. I glance at Caspian. He’s leaning up against the back wall, staring hard at the door at the end of the room—the only entrance and exit. He hasn’t said a word. The look on his face is blank, concerningly so, like he’s dissociating. The manacles clink around my wrists as I step to the bars separating us. His eyes flicker so I know he’s aware of me, but he doesn’t look over.
“This is what you’ve been worrying about all week, isn’t it?” I demand. “You don’t think this would have been important information for me to know?” I’m quickly growing more and more agitated. Especially when Caspian doesn’t answer. “How do you know him?”
No answer.
“Caspian—” I snap. “I need to know who we’re dealing with here. Tell me about Malik.”
Caspian is silent for so long I think he’s not going to answer. I lean my forehead against the iron, taking a breath to try and steady my rapidly thinning patience. The way the last hour has gone from such an earth-shattering high to this is giving me whiplash. The only thing I know for sure is we’re in some deep shit and by the looks of it, I’m going to have to find a way out because Caspian is shutting down with each passing second. I’m about to turn around, thinking he’s not going to answer, when he finally decides to speak.
“There are monsters, Captain,” Caspian says in a low voice. “And then there is the god of death himself.”
