Page 19 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
“Blossom,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t talk about it. Not here.”
“Where then?” she said. “I need to know what you’re feeling, what you’ve been through. And you need to express it.”
His blue eyes flashed into hers, blazing and desperate, and an agonized smile twisted his mouth. “I don’t want you to see me like this, love. You know me as the charming, roguish captain who helped you save your people. You don’t want to know the Flay from Stragnoag. He’s not nearly as much fun. I wouldn’t have brought you to this wretched city at all if I hadn’t been so rutting late to my check-in with that bastard.”
People were passing them on either side, casting them foul looks for standing in the middle of foot traffic, so Kestra steered Flay into a short alley. It stank of rubbish and mildew, but she didn’t much care.
“What are you afraid of?” she said. “Do you think I’ll stop loving you if you’re vulnerable?”
“I’m already less of a man than I was when you met me.” He lifted his residual limb with a wry half-smile.
“The more you let me see who you are, the more whole and beautiful you become in my mind. And if you’re afraid of letting me too close, that ship has sailed, Captain.” She sidled nearer, brushing her body against his. “After what I did to you last night, I think we can both admit there are no longer any barriers between us.”
Flay’s gaze heated, and he pulled her close with his left arm, dipping his head to catch her mouth. His right hand skimmed the roundness of her waist, running up her side, his thumb sweeping against the lower curve of her breast. Each fingertip he pressed to her body melted a warm, glowing circle right through her shirt down to her skin, until she felt herself dissolving inside, succumbing to him as she always did.
Kestra had been afraid her attraction to Flay would fade the more often they joined, but instead she’d become addicted to him. Their times in his bed had been all too few during the voyage, thanks to the near constant threat of the storms and the rocks. But they’d made the most of the few interludes they had. Together they learned that sometimes Kestra liked to be unwound slowly, with the most delicate torturous touches, and sometimes she wanted to be thrown onto his bunk and kissed ferociously while he took her hard.
And sometimes she wanted to kneel in front of her Captain.
“I love you,” she breathed between his lips. “You’re trapped, aren’t you? Just like I was.”
“I can’t get away from him.” His breath came ragged against her mouth. “I could run with the ship, but he’d find us. And I can’t run away alone, because my crew is depending on me. There are other islands like yours, people who survive on the trade we bring. I can’t find a way out, Blossom.” He pressed his forehead to hers.
She kissed him again, tenderly, longing to sink into his body and soothe the soreness of his heart.
“Wewilltalk about this more,” she said. “And you’re going to tell me about this contest, and what’s involved. But first, I think we should take a stroll in the market. I’ve never seen one, you know, and I’m a little jealous Mai is getting to experience it first, without me.”
Flay’s eyes brightened. “It’s fantastic, truly, Blossom. So many wares from all over the world! So much to see, and taste, and smell.” He kissed her once more, quick and firm. “Let’s go, and leave this doleful talk for later.”
Hand in hand, they left the alley. But Kestra made a quiet inner vow as they headed up the street toward the market.
I will free you from him. Somehow, I will.
7
Mai pointed up to a wooden sign swaying and creaking over the lamplit cobbles. “There it is! The Lionstooth Inn. This is where we’re supposed to meet Kestra.”
“Thank the tides,” groaned Baz. He tried to shift the bundles in his arms, but only succeeded in dropping one of the parcels.
“Careful!” Corklan shot at him.
“I’mtryingto be careful,” Baz retorted.
“It’s fine.” Mai scooped up the fallen parcel and checked the paper in her hand to confirm the name of the portside inn. When she and her two companions had staggered back to theWind’s Favorat sunset, Jazadri had handed her the message. “The crew will be working late, transporting cargo,” he’d said. “We’ll bring your things when we come to the inn. Go on and get settled, and we’ll meet you for a meal later. There’s a pub next door. Good food there, better than the inn.”
Mai’s gaze shifted to the left, and sure enough, there was the pub, jammed up against the inn. Most buildings on this street were glued together in one long row, unlike Anchel, where grassy plots and gardens divided the shops and houses. Mai had yet to see a garden in this city, beyond the occasional weed sprouting between cobbles or a drooping collection of herbs in a windowbox.
The pub’s customers spilled onto the sidewalk, clustering around wooden tables laded with plates of food and pewter mugs. Lanterns flickered yellow in the center of each outdoor table, and amber light filtered through the smoked glass of the pub’s front window. A curvy barmaid hip-bumped her way through the door, carrying two trays of dishes. With her exit, a cloud of savory smells rushed from the pub’s interior.
Mai had a habit of forgetting to eat when she was excited about something, and her knees turned suddenly weak from the aroma of food. She hadn’t stopped moving once all day. She’d towed Baz and Corklan through the shops of every bookseller, herbalist, tinker, chemist, and craftsman in the market district—or at least, in the approved part where they allowed her to go. There was a gloomy set of streets with intriguing, unfamiliar signage where she’d wanted to explore, but Corklan had laid a gentle, restraining hand on her arm. “No, miss,” he’d said firmly. “Captain Flay would have our hides if we let you go down there.”
So Mai had settled for purchasing everything she could possibly afford—empty sample cases made of wood and glass; thick leather-bound tomes on biology and physics; quills, ink, and paper; a set of two dozen beautifully pinned insects on a board; chemicals and tonics; dissection knives, cheesecloth for straining solutions, heavy jars of colored glass, and measurement tools.
She clasped her hands and beamed at the bundles in the sailors’ arms. “The money Flay gave me went further than I expected! I can’t believe all this is mine now.Mine.”
“Can we go inside?” Baz said plaintively. “My arms ache.”
“You’re some weakling, you know that?” Corklan elbowed him, and both their piles of parcels teetered.
