Page 38 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
“You’re keeping secrets from me.” The Magnate waggled a thick finger at Flay. “It’ll do you no good. I always find out what I want to know.” He took a long gulp from the goblet in his hand, his florid face reddening even more. “You should stay the night, you and your girl, and your—” he looked at Mai, his lip curling— “your tinker.”
“Thank you for the invitation, but we have comfortable lodgings,” Flay replied smoothly. “I’d like to be near the docks for the construction of my racing ship. We’re a bit behind the others, as you know. No time to waste. If you’ll excuse me, Mai and I should join Kestra and head back to the lower town. A lovely ball, Mother.” He bowed briefly and towed Mai along with him, toward the center of the room where Kestra was dancing.
“See Jazadri, over there?” Flay said under his breath, pointing. “Go with him and find Rake. He should be in a back room with Corklan and Baz as his escorts. It’s time we left this despicable place. Rake will need a saltwater bath and some fish once we get back to the inn. Oh, and Mai—don’t wait up for Kestra. She’ll be sharing my room tonight. I need her sweet presence to flush the taste of my family from my mouth.”
10
Kestra stood before the speckled mirror in Flay’s room. The inn had given him a large chamber appointed with thick rugs, frosted lamps, and glossy dark furniture, and she loved the comfortable aura of it all. The bed was so much bigger than his captain’s bunk on theWind’s Favor.
Kestra removed first one earring, then the other, laying them side by side on the dressing table. Most of her jewelry and accessories back home had been handmade from pretty rocks, pearly shells, and glittery bits of metal. Whenever she wasn’t cooking or gardening, she had enjoyed crafting lovely things from discarded scraps.
She wasn’t sure she’d have the patience for that anymore. Maybe one day, after she and Flay had traveled to many places and had settled down somewhere for a while. If he ever settled down.
Perhaps he wouldn’t. He seemed to relish the sea. Though his affinity for voyaging might have less to do with an adventurous nature and more to do with avoiding his family and their suffocating city.
The door opened, and Flay threw himself into the room. He immediately fell to the floor and lay down on his stomach, prodding the door shut with one boot. “Sucking whelks,” he moaned into the rug. “I thought this night would never end.”
“It wasn’t as bad as I expected.” Kestra sank down beside him, her skirts bunching around her. “Your family’s fortress is beautiful. And there were moments of fun.”
“You, Blossom, were the onlymomentof the entire evening. You and this dress.” Flay rolled onto his side, reached up, and ran his fingers along the low neckline of her gown, over the arches of her breasts. “I wanted to strip you right there and take my fill.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You loved the dress, but you wanted it off?”
He stared up at her with lustful adoration in his eyes. “The right dress will make a man think of nothing but the beautiful skin hidden beneath it.”
“That is the man’s fault, not the dress,” Kestra said primly.
“Of course it is. We are the weaker sex, after all.” Flay grinned and sat up. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers, and whispered, “Have pity on my weakness and kiss me, Blossom.”
“Is Mai safely in her room?” Kestra murmured against his mouth.
“Yes, Jazadri saw to it, and I checked on her myself.” His breath mingled with hers, light and eager.
“And Rake?”
“The Goldfish is immersed in a tub of saltwater. Though I had a time of it persuading the inn’s owner that a saltwater bath was necessary for my champion’s comfort.”
“Anyone who sees Rake uncloaked should know he’s amphibious. The gills alone—”
“Yes, but the secret of the belt must be preserved, Blossom.”
“I know.” She nuzzled against him. “Well, I suppose you’ve fulfilled all your responsibilities then. You deserve a reward.”
“I really do.” He pressed in for the kiss, but she pulled back once more. “Wait. Your arm—did you have Graves change your bandage again? Twice a day, remember? Once in the morning and once before bed. And the liniment must be applied.”
Flay groaned. “Can’t it wait?”
“I’ll do it for you. Then you can take this gown off me.” Kestra rose, went to the dressing table, and collected the tin where they kept Flay’s bandages and ointment.
“Unlace me first, I beg you. I’m dying in here.” Flay turned his back to her, and she knelt behind him, setting down the tin. As much as she liked the daring look of the corset on him, undoing the laces took a long time. When it finally fell away, he sighed with relief and unbuttoned the shirt beneath, tossing that aside as well.
Then he faced her, sitting cross-legged on the rug, and held out the bandaged limb.
Acrid had bitten through his forearm just above the wrist. She’d done it brutally, leaving a sharp piece of bone that Graves had had to file before he could treat the wound. He’d daubed it with something caustic that seared the flesh, and now the skin was pink and shiny with new scar tissue.
Kestra brought the wash basin and soap over and began to bathe the area. She blotted everything dry afterward. The blunt end pained her, because she remembered his strong, beautiful hand so well. But she said nothing. Her pain was of no consequence. The loss was his.
“You know what the worst part is,” he said softly. “When my left hand is sore, or it itches, but it’s not there, so I can’t massage or scratch it.”
