Page 21 of The Searching Songbird

If Josselyn were here, she wouldn't be so concerned. The hellcat Shendri was a natural warrior. She and Kella could take out anyone standing in their way. What I need is an ally. Someone in Flores who I can trust to have my back. Someone who could handle themselves in a fight.

A slow smile spread across her face as she realized she already knew the perfect person for the role.

Chapter Eleven

The sun was already high by the time Draven made it out onto the deck the next day, and he cringed against the brightness, his head pounding from all the booze he'd poured down his throat the night before. He wasn't usually one to over-indulge, and the heavy feeling that clung to his body this morning was a sharp reminder as to why that was.

But, damn, had he needed it after the day he'd had.

Not only was he on her radar now, he'd practically become friends with the damn girl. His bloody target.

Target, ha. Yeah, right. Who was he kidding? She was Lily. And, apparently, he was Draven, her knight-in-shining-armor who was now on a first name basis with her. Smooth.

“Draven! There you are!”

He jumped, his head practically twisting off as he turned in the direction of her voice. She was standing about twenty feet away, one hand on the rail, the other raised in a wave. Her hair had been tied back in a loose braid down her back, but it seemed the wind had already managed to free quite a few wisps around her face. Her lips were turned up in a smile, and he would swear her blue eyes were sparkling, although he was too far to tell for sure. She started walking toward him, and his heart tripped over itself.

You're a cold-hearted bastard who works for the devil himself. You've killed more than a few men, some with your bare hands. Get a grip already. She's just a girl.

“I looked for you at breakfast, but you weren't at the captain's table. When I tracked down Kenny, he said he hadn't seen you in the mess hall, either.” She stopped a few feet in front of him. “Rough night?”

He swallowed as he attempted to loosen his tongue, which suddenly seemed too heavy for his mouth. “A bit,” he replied, the words coming out shorter than he'd intended. Her eyes lost some of their shine, and she took a small step backwards, tucking her hands behind her back as she did. His stomach twisted at the tiny gesture, and he wanted to kick himself for sounding like such a grumpy asshole.

“Ah, well, I um... I saved this for you... if you want it,” she stammered, pulling something out of her skirt pocket. She held it out to him, and he saw it was one of the cook's famous breakfast biscuits, wrapped neatly in a handkerchief. He stared at it for a moment, and she bit her bottom lip as she started to pull her arm back.

“If you're not hungry, I can just save it for later or...”

He shot his hand out, catching her wrist and holding it in place. Her breath caught in a surprised gasp. “I am hungry. Starving, in fact.” He took the wrapped biscuit from her hand, trying to ignore the sparks that ran up his arm as their fingers brushed. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

Was she a bit breathless, or was he just imagining it? He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he bit into the savory biscuit. Her cheeks were tinged pink, and she turned her face toward the water as she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

“Would you like to walk around the deck with me?”

She whipped her face back around in surprise, and he almost choked on a piece of biscuit. Did I really just say that? What the hell is wrong with me?

She gave him a tentative smile. “I'd love to. As much as I love the sea, I do get rather stir-crazy being stuck in one place all the time.” She took a step closer, those big, blue eyes looking up at him in expectation. He stared back at her like an idiot before remembering to offer her his arm. Common etiquette had not been a necessity over the past six years. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and a pit formed at the base of his stomach at the trusting look she gave him.

He cleared his throat and started walking, his gaze fixed on the wooden planks of the deck. Say something, idiot. “So, the sea, huh?” He mentally groaned. He sounded as dumb as he felt. Fortunately, she seemed to understand what he was asking, as she made a happy humming sound and turned her face toward the briny waves that were slapping against the ship's side.

“What can I say? I'm an island girl, through and through. My earliest memories are all of the sea.” She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug, her gaze still focused on the water. “Not that that means much, seeing as I can't seem to remember anything from before I was about eight. So, I really only have twelve years of memories to go from.”

“You don't remember anything from before then?”

“It's a complete blank.” She said the words lightly, but he could see the tension lining her face. They walked in awkward silence for a moment before she glanced over at him, a cheeky smile forming on her face. “I'm actually kind of surprised that's the part you find hard to believe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Usually people are shocked when they do the math and figure out how old I am. Unless you already knew? Or...,” she covered her mouth in mock sympathy, “Perhaps you're not very good with numbers?”

He chuckled. “I do just fine with numbers, and as for your age, you're what, twenty? What's so surprising about that?”

She stared up at him for a moment, as if determining whether he was being serious or not. She must have realized he was, because she let out a small laugh and shook her head. “Nothing, apparently. Most people just seem to think I'm younger, is all. Probably because I'm on the smaller size.”

“Well, you are kind of short... ”

“Hey!”