Page 57 of The Withering Dawn
I pulled out my flintlock and fired at the closest attacker, sending him to the ground. In my other hand, I had my cutlass and began swinging, blocking blades on all sides while Aleksi and Cathal charged into the fray. The men were untrained, drunken hired hands. A distraction. I downed another, kicking his squirming body off my sword as I scanned the chaos for Antonio. He was behind his guard loading a pistol and without thinking, I fought my way through the mob to get to him. His guard had been shot by the look of the blood staining the front of his shirt, but he didn’t look like the kind of man that surrendered to pain. He eyed me as I approached and lunged with his sword clutched in his good hand. I knocked his weapon to the side, stepped away from him, and spun, slicing the back of his neck.
The man staggered to the ground and I continued toward Antonio, fury and disdain a potent mix. I watched him stumble backwards, eyes flitting to his downed guard, a man he had likely paid a lot of money to. A man he thought was motivated enough to protect him. Perhaps he was, but money could never motivate a man more than hate.
“Hiding, are you?” I asked, marching toward him.
He fumbled with his pistol, trying to ready it.
“We can talk riches, Nazario,” he said.
“I have riches,” I shrugged, my eyes wide and crazed. I stopped and pointed my blood-stained blade at him as the noise behind me started wither. “All I need to make this day better is to see you lying dead.”
Again, his eyes danced over the massacre like he was searching for one living man to get up and help him, but we were efficient, driven by more than a few coins or the promise of ale.
“My, you’ve all grown,” he said with a sense of nauseating pride. “All so big. So strong.” He shrugged, pulling the hammer back on his pistol. “I much preferred you as boys.”
He took aim and we all dodged in different directions. The shot was fired and Aleksi jerked back, grabbing his arm with one hand. I snarled, whipping around to face Antonio when one of the men stumbled to his feet, pistol drawn.
I did not have time to pause in the face of every gun barrel. Cathal and I both charged him, tackling him to the ground. I slammed my knee into his wrist, dislodging the pistol, and then rolled away.
“Finish him,” I barked at Cathal, standing once more to find Antonio wrestling Aleksi, a fancy, thin knife in his hand.
Aleksi sliced across Antonio’s stomach, but I had no way of telling how deep it was. I grabbed hold of him, trying to pull him away, when he turned on me with his pathetic little blade, his eyes so wide that the whites nearly drowned the almost black irises.
“I should have killed you all!” he said, spit flying from his mouth. “So difficult! All of you!” Laughter burst from his throat. “Now look. So strong. That was me, you know. I made you!”
“Aye,” I hissed, shoving him backwards. “You did.”
Aleksi jumped on him, wrapping an arm around his throat from behind. Antonio thrashed, kicking his legs out toward me as Aleksi dragged him backwards, but in the madness, no one gauged the edge of the cliff.
“Cap’n!” Cathal called, but it was too late.
I reached out, grabbing the front of Antonio’s coat, but before I knew it, all three of us were tumbling over the edge of the rocks into the water below.
Aeris
My eyes burst open like someone had punched me in the chest. Around me was Nazario’s room, but he wasn’t in the bed beside me. I sat up, untangling myself from the sheets and standing, a light sweat slickening my skin. Frantically, I looked around, unsure what I was looking for.
On the floor, the dress he’d gotten me was piled in a heap of fabric, but I stepped over it, heading for the door.
I burst out into the gray light of day. Clouds consumed the sun and the scent of rain permeated the air. There was a chill in the wind that coated my body in an eerie chill. Sitting on a barrel was Nikolas. He jumped to his feet at the sight of me marching nude across the deck. Jogging past me, he headed into Nazario’s quarters while I stared out toward the beach.
I knew Nazario wasn’t on the ship. I knew it. I could smell his absence. I could taste it.
I ran my tongue over my teeth, remembering the spicy-sweet taste of him on my tongue. The tang blossomed in my mouth and cast a budding warmth through my body like he was there, his arms around me. But it felt… wrong. He was stressed. His heart was beating fast. His blood was pumping too quickly and too hard.
Nikolas returned with one of Nazario’s sheets and draped it over me, but I barely noticed.
“He left me, didn’t he?” I said.
Nikolas circled around to look at me and shook his head, pointing at me and then at the ship as if I was to stay put.
“Something is wrong,” I argued. “I can feel it.”
His brows knitted and just as they did, the sound of a pistol firing a shot echoed across the water from the shore. The two of us walked toward the railing. I knew he was getting a bad feeling, too. A pistol firing should not have caused such worry. Nazario had gone to kill a man after all.
But it wasn’t right.
When another gunshot rang through the air, it was almost as if it had hit me in my chest. I pushed away from the railing, shaking my head. I should have been there.
