Deadmen Walking Page 25
“Without a single word, she calmly picked up his flintlock and shot him where he sat. They say they found her sitting in her daughter’s nursery, holding the babe while still coated in her husband’s blood. Don’t think she’s been sober since. Because whenever she is, she sees her daughter’s face and blames herself solely for what happened. And she can’t bear the guilt of it. It’s why she took on the name Sancha Delarosa—holy lady of sorrow. Her real name was Maria Esmeralda de la Vega y Tarancón. Or more to the point, Donna Maria Esmeralda de la Vega y Tarancón.”
“She was a noblewoman?”
Nodding, Belle pressed her hand against the amulet she never removed from her neck. “And Kalder … he was mixed up in all kinds of evil in his day. Because of who and what he is, he thought himself above all human law.”
“They caught him?”
Belle shook her head. “Those he’d cheated mistook his honest brother for him. Beat the poor lad to death in his stead.”
Wincing, Mara ground her teeth at the sheer misery that must haunt the poor merman. “Did they find him, too, after they took his brother? Is that how he died?”
“Nay. Unlike his brother, he was a brawler, through and through. They’d have never taken him in a fight. Was his own mother what did it, when Kalder came home to pay respects. She said it was only right he join his brother in death, as he was the reason his brother had been on the docks that day. Apparently, Kalder had been wanting to meet with him for some scheme he had planned, and had gotten distracted by a buxom maid. So while his brother lay dying from the beating he should never have had, unable to get help, Kalder was occupied with baser needs.”
Mara felt sick to her stomach. It explained much about the Myrcian. “That’s why he’s been celibate.”
Belle nodded. “Because of the guilt, he’s not wanted to go near another woman. Not until our Miss Jack. So while he might be flirting with one, he never sees the deed through.”
“Now he blames himself for what happened to her.”
“Aye.”
Mara glanced around as a shiver went down her spine. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
“I wanted you to remember that the cross each of us bears isn’t truly the one that be on our wrists. ’Tis the one of guilt we carry inside our hearts. And while those two cut to the bone, they are nothing compared to the double-crosses of our trusted friends and family that scorch us soul deep. That is what the red jack we fly truly stands for, Mara. A fanged skull to remind us of the eternal bite that comes from such nasty treachery. And the ribbon ’round it is the captain’s eternal promise that he will never betray us. No matter what, he will keep faith and be at our backs through whatever nightmarish hell comes our way.”
“Captain!” Kat’s voice rang out from the crow’s nest high above her head, interrupting Belle’s words. “Incoming!”
So accustomed to the sea holding all their incoming threats, it took Mara a moment to realize that wasn’t what he was warning them about.
Nay, this threat came from the skies.
There was a group of dragons, and they were headed straight for them.
18
“Paden?” Cameron crawled toward her brother on trembling arms and knees that threatened to give way at any moment. He was so battered and bruised that she barely recognized him. Yet even through the misshapenness of his features and his strangely pale hair, she’d know him anywhere.
Or so she thought.
No sooner had she reached him than he looked up with coal black eyes that were shot through with bloodred veins. He hissed at her, baring fangs.
Shrieking, she pulled back. “What have they done to you!”
He let out an inhuman growl as he slid across the floor after her like a rabid dog intent upon her utter destruction.
Terrified and unwilling to hurt him, she shrank into the corner and held her arms up to protect herself as best she could. Tears welled in her eyes. She whispered a prayer of protection. “In the name of St. Michael, dear God, deliver me from evil. Preserve me from violence and set Your shield around my body. In the name of the Father. The Son. And the Holy Spirit! Please, Paden, please! Mercy!”
His breathing ragged, he paused an instant before he would have ripped out her throat. Drool dripped from his fangs to her neck while he hovered so close that his rancid breath scorched her flesh. “Cammy?” Her name was an anguished whisper.
“Aye, brother.”
He let out a sob so deep that it seemed to come from the very bowels of his soul. His body shaking, he gathered her into his arms and clutched her tight against him while he wept tears of blood.
“Ah, how precious and sweet.”
Paden tightened his grip on her to the point of pain. A heartbeat later, his wings sprang from his back. When he tried to rise, the demons grabbed his chains and dragged him away from her, then slammed him to the ground.
She tried to help, but the voluptuous woman in bloodred armor used her powers to drive her back against the wall. And held her there with an ease that infuriated Cameron.
Tsking, she smirked. “Now, now, little spawns of Michael, we can’t be having any of this.”
“Let her go, Gadreyal!” Paden growled. “This has nothing to do with her!”
“Oh, but it does. And had you wanted her left alone, you should have cooperated. Now…” She let out an evil, insidious laugh. “We shall play a little game called Plant the Seed. One of you will carry it, but neither of you will know who it is. At least not until it takes root and grows to such a beast that it can’t be defeated and it’s too late to be stopped.” Her laugh echoed in the room. “Aye. I’ll have the head of Dón-Dueli, and the spawn of Michael will be the one who brings it to me.”
Her laughter died an instant later when a demon manifested behind her and whispered in her ear. “What?” she growled.
“Aye, my lady. They’ve broken through and are approaching the gate.”
Her features turned to stone. “Gather my army. ’Tis time we returned Thorn’s Deadmen to the hell that spawned them.”
* * *
Using his thoughts, Devyl commanded the raven to set them down on the sea barely a heartbeat before the dragons began their vicious attacks. Their incendiary breath lit the sky as they sought to sink the ship. Fireballs exploded all around.
In a bright flash of light, the raven transformed back into Simon Dewing, which startled the rest of the crew, as they realized Devyl had used the witch’s feathers for a spell to enlarge their striker’s alternate incarnation. As a shapeshifter, Simon had come in handy a number of times for certain tasks. But never more so than today.
Mara smirked at him. “You could have told us who the bird was, you know.”
Winking, he cracked a rare smile at her. “And miss the look upon all your faces? What be the fun in that, love? Got to have some enjoyment in me death.”
With a deep laugh, Simon moved to stand ready with Kat and Roach. He draped his arm around Kat, who shook his head at him and rolled his eyes.
“I should have known it was you.”
“Aye, you should have. You’ll never be hearing the end of it now. Didn’t even miss me or ask after me.… And I saw the way you were eyeing Bart in me absence. Don’t think I didn’t. There’ll be the devil to pay later over that, mark me words.”
Kat jerked his head toward Bane. “’Tis the other Devyl we have to pay right now that be worrying me most, me love.”
Simon wrapped his arm around Kat’s shoulders and pulled him close so that he could kiss the side of his head. “No worries. Ain’t no one getting their hands on you but me. They’ll have to come through me first.” He unsheathed his sword and used his powers to ignite the blade.
Devyl and Bart took the first wave of dragons that flew in to attack the ship as William went to stand beside Mara so that he could protect her. Bart and Devyl deflected the dragons’ fiery goo before it could land on deck or set the sails ablaze. Thank the gods that Bart and Will were as skilled with their magick as he was.
Their being Simeon Magi was one of the main reasons Devyl had approved Will and Bart as first mate and quartermaster for his crew. They were old school. Highly trained and deadly in just such encounters. While their astral hands were tied whenever they were around baretos, or uninitiated humans who knew nothing of the real preternatural threats that surrounded them, out here on the open water, among their own …
Bart and Will were every bit as lethal as he was, which was good, as he’d need them all to survive this day.
“Roll the long nines!” Devyl shouted to his gunners while he reviewed the best way to defend the ship and crew against their incoming threats.
Those would be their best regular defense. A demi-cannon wouldn’t be accurate enough at the distance the dragons were flying and the culverins didn’t shoot a heavy enough ball to penetrate dragon scales.
Aye, that load would only piss them off.
Same for their philosopher’s fire. Since dragons breathed fire, it wasn’t the most optimal weapon against them as they were heat-shielded for it. Their hides were thick and hard to pierce. Worse than trying to harpoon a whale with a sword. While it wasn’t impossible to take down a dragon, it was a specialized skill and none on board were dragonslayers by trade.
Damn me for that oversight. He should have thought ahead on that.
But that was all right. Their gunners were all Aru Mages—courtesy of a most defiant Thorn. Normally, such demonic creatures were reserved by the Sarim only for Necrodemians. And they would be all kinds of furious to find them on board the Sea Witch at Devyl’s command.
Why? Because they were a secret weapon the Hell-Hunters didn’t want to fall into the hands of their enemies under any circumstance. A special breed of demon, an Aru Mage was capable of assuming any metallic shape or object a Necrodemian might need for battle against the Cimmerian horde.
And it was an advantage that might allow them to emerge victorious this day.
Throwing his fire, Devyl brought down one dragon, which only angered another.
Just how had the beasts seen the ship, anyway? They had all been using their powers to conceal their presence as they headed into the dragons’ territory. It made no sense. None of them should have seen a single thread of sail. His answer came a few seconds later when bloodred clouds parted and he saw the other winged creatures flying beside their enemies.…
I should have known.
“Iri!” he shouted to warn his men so that they could prepare.
These were the Seraphim who’d turned against their brethren—or the children of those betrayers who’d chosen to fight with their fathers and mothers against Gabriel and his Kalosum warriors—they were what the Necrodemians had been created specifically to fight.
And they were a lot more powerful than the demons Devyl’s crew had been recruited to return to their respective dimensions. These were the top-level commanders. The most powerful of their kind.
More than that, they’d once been Devyl’s allies.
He cursed as he saw Gadreyal leading them. She was a nasty piece of work. The kind of demonic creature no man wanted to meet alone.
Except for Devyl. He relished a good fight with an equal opponent.
In particular, he wanted a piece of her highly attractive ass to mount to his wall for what she’d done to him. Right next to his ex-wife’s head.
“Gadreyal!” he called, summoning her away from his men as the cannons turned from firing on the dragons to aim at the new threat.
The moment she saw him, her eyes lit up to a vibrant red and she dove for him straight away. While he’d been damned, she’d been his primary torturer. They had centuries of mutual hatred they’d nursed against each other.
She bypassed his men and left her dragons and soldiers behind to deal with the rest and the cannon fire so that she could take Devyl on personally.
Good thing, that. It was enough to make him smile.
“Well, well,” she sneered, flapping her wings. “If it isn’t my favorite toy.” She unsheathed her sword. “Ready to give me what I want now?”
“I’m not imprisoned here, Gaddy.” He blasted her.
Shrieking, she landed before him and attacked.
Devyl caught and deflected her thrust with his own sword and advanced with the skill that had won him countless battles. He wasn’t bound by chains now, nor weakened by all-out starvation. While he might not still be up to full strength, he was a lot stronger than he’d been in centuries.
She was in for a full-on battle and he was ready to give it to her with everything he had—mage fire, fangs, and swordplay.
From the corner of his eye, he checked his men, who were locked in similar fights with the rest of her forces while cannon blasts rocked the ship beneath their feet and deafened him. Luckily, his crew seemed to be holding their own.
Good. He didn’t want any distractions. He only wanted her head on a pike.
Gadreyal tsked at him. “Be a good boy, Duel. Surrender and we’ll make it easy on all of you. Surely you want to be on the right side of the conflict again?”
“You planning to give me Vine’s throat for it?”
“You know better. I can’t do that.”
Well, that ended that discussion then. And any thoughts he had of ever switching sides.
Not that it’d really crossed his mind. He’d given his loyalty to Thorn. And unlike the others, he never went back on his word.
He swung for her head and blasted her with his fire.
Sadly, she ducked and returned with a shot of her own.
He went skidding across the deck on his shoulder. Damn, that hurt. Rolling to his feet, he shook the pain off and ignored the sight of the smeared blood he’d left behind on the boards. By God, he wasn’t about to let any sort of agony get in the way of his fight.
Or his victory.
Gadreyal laughed as she launched herself to flight and landed before him. “You haven’t asked me about your little Seraph. Have you forgotten her so soon?”
His blood ran cold at the mention of Cameron. “What have you done?”
Throwing her head back, she laughed. “I’ve done nothing. But she lacked your fortitude. Then again, most do.”
Rage clouded his sight. “If you’ve harmed her—”
“Harmed?” She interrupted him. “I made her more powerful and reunited her with her precious brother. How is that a harm? It’s what she wanted and better than you gave her.”
Bellowing in rage, he advanced on her with a renewed vigor, even though he knew it was all kinds of stupid. It was what she wanted. Only calm rationale won a fight. But he couldn’t stop the fury inside him that wanted to feast on her entrails.
Not when he was the one who’d brought Cameron into this. She wouldn’t have been near this she-bitch but for him. He was directly responsible for her.
Gadreyal tsked in his face. “Poor Duel. You can’t even sell your soul to right this. Tell me? Was your bargain worth it?”
“Release Miss Jack!” he growled between gritted teeth.
“You don’t have the power to command me.”
“Mayhap not, but I do have the power to crush you.” He blasted her and sent her reeling.
Now that made him smile.
Until she rose up in her serpent form and gathered a group of her companions to her. In a giant cloud like swarming bees, they arched before him, then tumbled down to kill him in one massive wave.
* * *
Mara fell to her knees as she struggled to keep the ship upright under the fierce assault. William stood by her side, driving away the Irin who was attacking them.
We’re not going to make it. She didn’t say the words out loud, but she felt them deep inside.
And it terrified her. What were they going to do? She didn’t see any way to drive the beasts back. There were just too many of them. Every heartbeat, they appeared to multiply.
While the Deadmen couldn’t, in theory, die, they could be overrun, and that was quickly happening.
“Get Mara below! Protect her!” Du’s voice was a fierce, stabilizing growl above the sounds of war.
And his words caused a surge of tenderness to rush through her as she rolled with the ship. Even now when his thoughts should be on his own survival, they were on her welfare.
In that moment, she saw him the day they’d met. Saw the look on his face as he hesitated to harm her. His dark eyes haunted and furious.
For the first time, she fully understood what Belle had told her. What the Deadman’s Cross on their arms really meant.
Blood and bone, Devyl Bane would give it all to see them safe and their souls returned so that they could have their lives back. So long as there was breath inside his body, he would fight for them.
He would fight for her.
Her gaze went to him and his battle with the one Irin who hated him most. Long before Vine had killed Du, Gadreyal had wanted Duel’s head for the simple fact that he’d shown her up and won favor in the war against Thorn and his army. Until Duel, Gadreyal had been the premier Cimmerian general in Britain. The chosen one of the ancient dark gods, and they’d doted on her for it. Yet in no time, he’d surpassed her success rate.
No one could match Duel’s ferocity.
But as Mara watched them, she saw that he was still weak from his earlier attack. Because of the conditions of his release that forbade him from consuming human blood or the hearts of his enemies, he hadn’t been feeding properly and therefore couldn’t heal as fast as he should. His Aesir lineage held certain dietary necessities that were deemed rather gory to those unfamiliar with their race. Things she’d judged him for over the centuries.
And Gadreyal knew it too. She was taking no mercy on him as she drove him back against the railing.
If they didn’t do something, Gadreyal would defeat him and return him to the hell Thorn had spared him from.
“Help him, William!”
He hesitated. “No offense, mum, but he’ll have me head if I leave your side. And he’s a mite big blighter with an awful temper. I’d rather not test it right when he’s already upset, if you know what I mean. And I’m rather fond of me bullocks. I’d like to be keeping them a bit longer, if you don’t mind.”
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