Page 26 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

“I am,” I said.

He let out a short breath. “No.” He pushed off the wall and walked toward the door. “You’re not worth the trouble.”

“Wait.” I waited for him to face me. “I’ll do anything. I mean anything.” I hated how desperate I sounded. But Jina was downstairs and I was out of options. “Even—” I swallowed, pointing to the bed. “Even that.”

His eyes moved over me. A long, unhurried look that started at my face and ended at my feet. Then he made a sound low in his throat that reached somewhere I would be embarrassed to admit.

My flushing cheeks went cold when he said, “No thanks. I’ve had better.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You asked if I’d take you for pleasure.” He said it the way someone might decline a bad cut of meat. “I’m saying I’ve had better. You’re not much to look at.”

I had never spent a single moment in my life thinking about how I looked. There had been no reason to. But those words, coming from a face like his, landed somewhere I hadn’t expected.

“We’re done here.” He turned toward the door, his coat swishing behind him.

“Wait—” I grabbed his arm. I hated that I was going to say this. “The dagger isn’t the only thing I have. I know things about the shells. Things you don’t.”

He lowered his gaze to my hand, that hat tipping with the movement. “So Resse was telling the truth,” he murmured to himself, then arched an eyebrow at me. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I assumed you already knew.” I released him. “So how are you getting us out of here?”

He scrubbed his jaw, the corner of his mouth twisting upward. “You’re not going to like it. But you have no choice.” He moved to the door and peered out. “Stay close to me. And if people ask, I killed the captain. Do you understand?”

Those words sat wrong with me. But survival was essential. Nobody would believe I killed a man three times my size anyway.

“Did you hear me?” When he turned back, his face was so close that if he had moved another inch our lips would have touched. Those blue eyes had gone dark again. It scared me enough that I jerked back.

“I said stay close. Not on my heels.”

“Sorry, I—”

Before I could finish, the coat fell around us both as he scooped me up, one arm at my back, the other beneath my knees. “Act like a damsel in distress.”

“What—”

“Stop talking.”

“I’m not talking.”

“Then what do you call what you just did?”

I groaned. It was difficult to argue when his chest was solid and warm against me, pine and sweetness clinging to his skin. I shut my mouth and went limp.

He stomped down the stairs and when he reached the last landing, he said to Russo’s crew, “Your captain took what’s mine, and now he’s dead. Leave me be.”

The tavern went quiet. He set me down behind him, his back blocking me from the room, so I took a peek to find Jina. Every eye moved to him, to the dark coat and hat, and the hand resting loose on his sword hilt.

“Get your friend,” he whispered to me. “Back door. Go. And stay there.”

I grabbed Jina’s wrist and pulled her toward the back of the tavern. Ranis followed without being asked. I should have kept moving, but I didn’t. I stopped at the doorframe, Jina’s hand still in mine.

Three of Russo’s men jolted out of their seats, steel ringing out as they drew their swords.

The tavern erupted. Chairs scraped back, cups hitting the floor. A woman screamed and ran out the door. The merchants near the fire scrambled toward the back wall, knocking their table sideways. The bartender dropped below the counter.

“You killed our captain.” The broadest one stepped forward, sword leveled. “You’re not walking out of here, Theron.”