Page 26 of Stalking Wendy Darling

Stumbling to my feet and leaving the corpse at my feet, I fought for balance as sand shifted under me, determined to drop me back to my ass. The last thing I needed was sand in my stab wound or—ooh, light bulb!

Ugh, another huge jackal circled me, his knife dripping blood like a declaration. Typical, I can’t even get a second to catch my breath. When he surged closer, I kicked sand into his eyes with a sweep of my leg and dove low, driving my knife into his groin.

His howl was loud enough to wake the dead; it shivered through my blood. God, I’d missed people screaming at the end of my knives. It just wasn’t the same when it was crew members who pissed me off. I flicked sweat off my brow as he dropped, and jolted left just in time to intercept a tall, rake-thin jackal who came at me with two long daggers both aimed at my chest. I liked my chestintact,thank you very much.

A kick to the knee didn’t take him down. Stupid fucker with his stupidly perfect balance. Judging by Maceo’s constant growling to my left, he was dealing with the same issue. Sterling was silent. I took that as a good omen, not a sign the man had died.

A roar of noise preceded the rest of my uncouth crew swarming out of the cave. I exhaled a breath of relief I immediately sucked back in when the tall, well-balanced bastard in front of me slashed long daggers at me in a dizzying whirl. I leapt to avoid the wicked edge of one blade, only succeeded in driving the other into my hip. A growl of pain tore from me, but I gritted my teeth and shaped it into a scream of fury.

“You’re dead, buddy,” I spat, jumping back a clear step, trying to get enough range to throw my dagger. But he pursued slowly and predatory enough that my blood quickened, adrenaline joining the thump of nerves and excitement in my body, and I grinned despite myself. I was bleeding from multiple places, but I felt awake, alive in a way I hadn’t since I took over the Banshee. Being captain was great, and I loved the title, but there was always a problem to solve, always someone wanting something from me, always commands to give, and I wasbored.

This jackal wasn’t talkative. He didn’t even growl at me, just kept coming with slash after dancing slash of his daggers, pressing me back across the beach, further and further from the cave. Every time I launched at him, he evaded with a quick flourish of his daggers, and it didn’t take me long to realise he was herding me.

“I am not,” I said very seriously, “a sheep.”

I must have stunned him for a second, because I managed to dart out of reach, scanning my surroundings—and hissing out a curse when I saw five others closing in around me. This was what I got for being captain. I was a hot commodity now; everyone wanted me.

I flipped back to the tall jackal and threw one of my daggers, watching it flip end over end, so fast I mentally patted myself on the back. I’d already drawn another knife by the time it drove into the base of his throat.

“Ha! Take that, shepherd dick.” I paused. “Not that I have anything against shepherds, obviously. It’s an ancient and respectable occu—PATION,”I screeched when a body drove into mine, knocking me to the ground so hard my head rattled on my neck.

“I literallyjustgot out of this sand,” I slurred, throwing my hands up on instinct, teeth gritted against the sudden fire of blades cutting up my forearms. Warm blood dripped down myarms onto my face as I grappled with the bastard. I tasted it on my tongue, copper dominating all my senses.

It took five attempts to grab his wrists, forcing the sharp edges away from my skin. “Bastard,” I spat, gritting my teeth against the deep, scalding throb of the new cuts. “All this because we wanted to take a few trinkets.”

“They’re not yours to take,” this jackal snarled, spittle flying through teeth too sharp and silver in his dark face.

“Clearly you don’t live in the real world.Anythingis anyone’s to take. If you don’t take, you don’t eat, you don’t have clean water, and you don’t have a roof over your head.” Right now I had sails and a mast over my head, not a roof, but that wasn’t the point. “I get that you want to keep your gold, but so do I. Oh! How about we split it?”

I thought that was a magnanimous offer, but judging by the furious growl that poured from the jackal’s chest, we had a slight difference in opinion.

“I’m a pirate, mate,” I laughed, locking my elbows to keep the sharp edge of the knife away from me. “Splitting the treasure is the best option you’re gonna get.”

“You will die for your nerve and disrespect,” he growled, pushing more weight into the blow. I didn’t know what happened to his other knife, but I was glad to only have one to contend with. One was plenty enough.

“Probably,” I agreed. “But I don’t fancy dying today. Sorry, buddy.”

I heaved my weight against the knife, hoping to redirect it towards the jackal, but my breath stopped when the opposite happened, sharp silver teeth bared in my face as he drovecloser.A sharp prick at my neck had my heart drumming against my ribs. Death neared, close enough that I felt his bony hands at my throat.

“Hear that?” he gloated when screams began to ripple across the beach, a wave of sound louder each second, closer, distant cries turning into piercing howls that pierced my heart and made me jump. “That’s your people dying, one by one.”

If he thought that would make me weak, he’d misread me as a person. I ground my teeth and renewed my effort to push his hands away, my palm both sweaty and gritty with sand. “You’re the one going to die,” I snarled, bringing my knee up under him in a sad attempt to unseat him.

The jackal laughed, my movement only forcing him closer, until the tip of his dagger bit into my throat. Pain welled with warm blood in the hollow of my throat, and everything went icy and still. I was really going to die here, killed by some dick in a mask.

My ears hollowed out as the knife bit deeper, but even with blood whooshing in my ears I heard the screams get louder, visceral, my crewterrified.My breath caught, and I stopped breathing entirely when the jackal pinning me to the sand looked at something beyond me and gasped. It was a small intake of breath, a catch of fear, but it made mefranticwith fear.

I fought harder, pushing the knife away, my bones shivery all the way up my arms, but it was no relief when the jackal scrambled off me, surrendering his knife to me without a second thought, his breaths choppy.

I didn’t look behind myself. Didn’t dare to.

So it came as a bit of a shock when a monster of fury, tentacles, and a really great brown leather coat erupted across the beach and unleashed itself on the jackal. The jackal’s head was ripped off his neck in a spray of blood and gore. A rope of blood landed on my stunned face, startling me into motion. I hauled my screaming body to my feet, staring in shock as the jackal was ripped limb from limb.

I froze when the tentacled monster turned to face me, arms and suckers waving in apparent rage. And instead of a scream, it was an irritated sigh that left me.

“You’re dead,” I grumbled, crossing my bleeding arms over my chest, immediately flinging them out, palms forward, when Hook surged towards me, spraying sand everywhere, those massive suckered limbs reaching for me.

My whole body rooted in place when the slimy tip brushed my throat, coming away with blood. And retreated.

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