Page 22 of Take No Prisoners
"Fine," Vadim said. "You steer. I'll keep watch. It's not like I'll have anywhere to sleep."
"You can take the captain's bunk at night," Niall said, pushing his way out of the crate to stand by Efren's side. "I'll keep you company," he whispered so only Efren could hear him. "I'd rather be on your schedule, anyway."
"I'm not sleeping in his bunk, no matter the time of day." Vadim squinted so hard Efren couldn't see the green in his eyes. Then, he glanced around the crate. "Do you have another empty crate?"
"Aye." Stan pointed to the second box they kept for silks and other treasures they might find on merchant ships headed for Hearthstone. They hadn't plundered a single merchant ship since they'd left Aquarion, so it was as empty as the first.
"I'll stand watch over Klaus, then," Vadim said. "Make sure no one else tries to kill him."
Efren glanced inside the crate that had once held Vadim. Klaus huddled in the corner with the blanket Stan must have provided. Deep wrinkles marred the seeker's forehead and he stank of piss and decay. Efren thought him a teenager at first, but he either looked old for his years or he was at least a decade older than Efren first thought.
"Why did they try to kill him?" Efren asked.
"You know why." Vadim clasped his gloved hands behind his back. Efren recognized the attempt to put everyone at ease by hiding his hands, but Efren couldn't forget. Vadim was the most formidable death weaver in the empire, and the solid white of his hair said he'd killed again since Niall had borrowed his power for the opposite effect.
"They blame seekers for their conscription," Klaus volunteered from his corner. "Even if I'm not the one who found them, they blame me. If Coryn hadn't known they were weavers, she couldn't have forced them to join the navy."
"Outside Coryn's elite circle, few of Embertide's soldiers and none of her sailors are volunteers," Vadim said. "Klaus is a rare asset. He can see all forms of magic, even the ones that aren't weaves."
"Even Olivia's?" Efren had never heard of a seeker being able to identify a suppressor's magic.
"There's a void around her. Colors dim." Klaus shrugged and pulled the blanket tight around his shoulders. "I knew she was at the docks."
Vadim grinned at Efren. "That's how I knew she was there. Klaus also has a hint of my telepathy."
"How?" Efren asked. He'd never heard of a seeker with telepathy. Only death weavers and healers were born with the trait. Communication and consent were a large part of their innate ability. Efren had heard the argument that seekers, suppressors, and enchanters were made, not born, their powers the product of over-healing. Klaus didn't look healthy, that much was certain. If he'd needed constant healing, Efren could only imagine the side effects.
"Not important." Vadim stepped forward, and everyone except Niall took a step back. Even Klaus huddled further into his corner.
"Stan, help Vadim with the crate," Efren ordered. "Klaus, if you'll pile your clothes by the door, I'll have Hannah wash them for you."
That left Efren standing at the foot of the stairs with Niall. "Your clothes could use a wash, too. Come with me."
Niall had already unlaced his tunic and pulled it over his head by the time they reached the deck. When they reached the cabin, he deposited it on the map table before bending over and unlacing his boots. Efren admired the well-defined planes of his back from his thick shoulders to his narrow waist.
Niall kicked off his boots and pulled at the strings tying his breeches over a decent bulge.
Efren cleared his throat. "I don't know that my pants would fit you, but I can offer you a pair to return to the deck until sundown."
Niall's hands stilled. "You want me to return to deck?"
"I need sleep." He sounded needy, not the flat tone he intended.
"I could hold you while you sleep."
"You could, but—"
A splash off the starboard side and children's laughter caught their attention.
"Captain! Vadim just tossed the seeker overboard!"
A second splash followed.
"He didn't smell that bad," Efren grumbled. "Let's go swimming. Bring your dirty clothes."
Efren pulled his sleep shirt over his head. He'd just grabbed it out of the storage under his mattress, so he folded it and left it on the map table. He kept his shorts on, same as he always did for a dip in the sea.
Niall stripped down to his bare ass and strolled to the railing, glancing back over his shoulder to confirm Efren was watching.
