Page 100 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

The siren girl narrowed her eyes. No, this is not about me being a siren—it can’t be.

“Not that I care what lies in your near future,” Nola said, “But the royal family holds no loyalty to anyone. The prince will kill you once you hand me over.” She bit the inside of her cheek, trying so desperately not to cry. “And Lincoln—he’ll come for me.”

“Oh, I’m hopin’ for that,” he said arrogantly, “because we get paid a vast amount of gold to deliver Lincoln and his crew, on top of what he’s promised me for ye.” He chuckled to himself; a cynical smile played on his lips. “Let’s think of ye as bait, shall we?”

Nola grappled again within his hold, but he gripped harder around her elbow.

“You have known Lincoln since he was a child,” she spat. “How could you do this?”

She felt blood rush through her veins as he tossed her to the pirate who had held the sword to her throat. He reeked of smoke and a scent that reminded her of the dirty dumpster in Brecken Terrace she had passed in an alleyway.

Nola looked up into Wentworth’s wicked eyes again.

The old captain tilted his head to the side, and a glint of sobriety flashed in his eyes. “Lincoln stopped being me comrade when he abandoned me ship. I gave that fool everythin’ and—”

“So, this is about revenge?” Nola scolded. “That’s pathetic!”

Wentworth snarled, commanding his first mate with a snap of his fingers. The entire crew went silent as the pirate pulled at her arm to follow.

“Put ’er in me quarters,” Wentworth said, “I’m done with ’er blabberin’ tongue.”

His fingers gripped hers as she tried to wretch free.

I’m getting out of this,Nola told herself, even if it means killing his entire crew with my bare hands.

* * *

“Kitten, grab his legs,” Mazie cried, “Help me!”

Lincoln’s eyelids were heavy as he felt himself go in and out of consciousness. His feeble attempt to move was met with sharp stabs against his cold and clammy body.

Scads of fingers ran over his wound, and stabbing pain pulled at his stomach. He could not keep himself conscious enough to see how bad it was. Lincoln’s heartbeat started slowing down, and as he opened his mouth to speak, a sensation of cool liquid ran down the side of his navel. He stopped.

Is that water?He thought. Blood?

It stung for a short moment before his eyes rolled back. Then blackness.

“Captain?” Kitten called. “Keep yer eyes open, will ye?”

Lincoln opened one eye slowly, then the other. His vision blurred, trying to make sense of the space surrounding him. His hand instinctively landed where it hurt the worse. It felt cool and sticky.

“Keep your hands off it, Captain. We had a bit left of honey from the market. Let it do the job,” Ardley said, prying Lincoln’s fingers from the wound.

Captain Lincoln moaned as he felt another sharp stab.

“How bad is it?” he asked. He rubbed his eyes with the one clean hand and blinked again.

The redheaded pirate blew out a puff of air. “Do you want me to lie to you?”

“Great,” Lincoln said breathlessly.

“You’re alive, for now. You son of a bitch!” Mazie cried, “but I’ll kill you for scarin’ me like that.”

“Good to see you too, Mazie.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not goin’ anywhere yet.”

Ardley straightened his back as Lincoln spotted Hill passed out in the corner of the room.

“Ten sutures. Give it, uh…two weeks, maybe?” He redressed the wound with a clean piece of gauze and tape and stepped back slightly. “You’re damn lucky.”

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