Page 114 of Wicked Tides
“My father’s got a lot of people killed.”
“And yours may do the same one day, but I’ve never stepped foot on a ship thinking there wasn’t a chance I’d die on it. We all make choices. I recall one of your choices being to save my old ass on that very island where your father died. We choose to sail those dark seas.”
“Full of dark fates,” I sighed.
Gus leaned over to look at the healer’s handiwork.
“Stitched you up good, she did. You lost a fair amount of blood.”
“Been here a couple days and already brought the storm with us.”
“These people are resilient.”
I nodded and searched the room for my coat and weapons. I found both lying across a stool and put them on.
“What are you doing?”
“We need to bury the men.”
“Smalls and the others are already on it. You need to let that shoulder heal.”
“Then I’ll go to the water.”
“I don’t think that’s smart.”
“Dahlia’s been gone for hours. If she’s dead, we’re about to be visited by something far worse.”
Even thinking that she might have perished in the water made me feel as if I’d been punched in the stomach.
“What are you going to do? Take a swim to find her? Last I checked, you don’t sprout fins and we humans don’t take that freezing water well.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not going with you. My joints are hating the cold as it is,” he threatened as I walked out of the cabin into the chilled, early morning air. “Mullins! Dammit, go with the cap’n.”
Mullins was just outside sitting with a few other crewmen around a fire. He stood quickly when I walked outside, rubbing fatigue from his eyes. My men were somber, sitting with the bodies of the mutineers. They’d all been covered up with thin blankets and were ready to be buried. No one liked to see their crewmates dead, especially by their own hands, but the sea tested men. Sometimes they failed and they let the madness and chaos claim them.
“Where we going, cap’n?” Mullins asked.
“He’s going down to the water to find his precious siren.”
Mullins fumbled to grab his gun belt and jogged to match my pace. As we departed for the coast, I saw my men staring at me from all directions. One of the lingering stares was David’s and as we passed, he set down the bowl of food he was eating and quickly caught up to us.
“Stay here, David,” I ordered.
“Not likely.”
“We’re all glad you are alive,” Mullins said as we left the village. “But we all see it, you know.”
“See what?”
“That you care about that woman.”
I tossed him a glare and then grumbled my irritation. “Don’t matter if I care about her or not. She saved my life last night.”
“I’ll say,” David added, walking as if he’d regained some of his confidence over the past few days.
“True, that is,” Mullins added. “We all saw Uther go at you with his blade. The way she stabbed him.” He shivered. “Don’t think anyone’s going to try to touch you with her around.”
