Page 5 of Silver Tongue Devil

“Emphasis on the first part, Kitty-Kat.” He grinned mischievously back, bringing his sword up to mine.

He had such a killer instinct to survive, to do what needed to be done, that it wasn’t long before he was given the name Killian, meaning “little warrior” in Gaelic. And it stuck. A rebirth of the boy.

With a dark mop of hair, violet eyes, and sharp features, he should have belonged in the high seelie court as the son of a royal fairy or something, not a poor boy from the slums who was now a pirate.

Most of the prostitutes who the crew would bring on for the night already gawked at him with interest. At fourteen, they saw the potential, what he’d look like when he got older. Or they’d tease us about being boyfriend and girlfriend, which made me uncomfortable. Killian was my buddy, a brother to me. Though I could feel the change in the way he looked at me, touched me, and brought me little gifts.

Master Yukimura gave the order to engage just as the captain of our ship stepped out onto the deck, the air in my lungs fluttering as my eyes drank him in. My cheeks burned, and I had a funny feeling in my belly, like thousands of tadpoles were swimming around. I would fight to the death for my captain, but something was happening to me lately. After I caught him with one of his women, watching what he did to her, I couldn’t stop my cheeks from flushing. I got all squirmy, wanting to wear something less boyish than breeches and a dirty linen shirt, like those pretty ladies I saw on the mainland. The ones he would wink at, and though they would act outraged, I could see them looking back, their eyes heated.

I wanted to impress him.

I wanted him toseeme.

Watching Captain out of the corner of my eye, Killian and I clanked our bamboo swords against each other, shifting in swift, fluid motions. The problem with training alongside someone every day was that we could predict each other’s moves and had learned to get out of them. But when the captain appeared, my attention got all blurry. The edge of the bamboo stick hit my arm.

Dammit.

“Strike for me. Come on, Kat. You’re making this easy,” Killian bragged, circling around, forcing me to turn with him. I noticed most of the crew was watching us, along with the captain. “You’re fighting like agirl.”

Those were combative words. And he knew it.

“Oh, someone’s mad,” Killian teased me. “You’re growing whiskers.”

My face burned with humiliation, my teeth clenching as embarrassment burned through my muscles. I was coming into fae puberty. I couldn’t fully shift into my cat form yet, but I would start to change without my control. When I got emotional, I’d start growing claws and whiskers, and shiny black fur sprouted out of my skin in patches.

It was mortifying.

Grunting, I leaped forward, my stick clanking down on Killian’s weapon, my tiny frame coming at him. Killian recently had a growth spurt, and he towered over me now, and I was angry he was so much bigger than me.

Being tiny didn’t mean I couldn’t beat him. Slipping around him, I tapped my sword at his side. “Strike for me!”

“Barely.” Killian’s smugness flared my temper. My father said I got it from my mother. She was Polynesian and petite like me—and a total spitfire. Her stubborn temperament was legendary. But that came with being cat-shifters. We were temperamental creatures.

Killian and I moved across the deck, my ire rising with every hit he got on me. His bamboo stick hit me right in the middle of the stomach.

“Yes! Won again.” He winked at me. “Sorry, Kitty-Kat.”

Anger fumed under my skin like a volcano. All eyes were on me, but I felt the captain’s the most. Rage bubbled up until a cry rose from my throat, sounding like a howl. When I lunged for Killian, daggers sliced into my body, my bones cracking. The taste of heavy magic and the salty air clogged my throat.

Every sense sharpened to almost painful levels. I could hear a single seagull miles away, see a fly up on the crow’s nest, and smell the pungent odors of fish, seaweed, sweat, and moldy wood.

The clothes I wore fell off me as my body shifted. I had only done it partially a few times, and it had made me want to throw up. Pain coursed through my bones, forcing me to stop the shift and return to my human form.

On my hands and knees, bile burned at the back of my throat as I coughed and hacked, my body shaking with the abundance of magic still volleying through me. Taking huge gulps of air, I tried to center myself, to swallow back the vomit in my esophagus.

Breathe, Kat, I ordered myself.

Then I noticed the silence. The feel of the ocean breeze on my bare skin.

Lifting my head, I discovered every crew member staring at me, my clothes pooling underneath me.

“Katrina!” My father called my name as he pushed through the throng of onlookers. Rushing to my side, he grabbed the shirt I had been wearing off the ground, covering me with it.

“Get back to work!” Captain bellowed out. “Now! And if I see one of you looking over here, I will cut your throats myself!”

The crew dissipated in a hurry since he was a man of his word.

“Kat…?” Killian gazed at me with sorrow, his hand reaching for me.

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