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He smiles before unlatching the door and slipping outside.

I shut it quickly behind him, sliding the lock back into place. When I turn around, I find Nyra finally stepping out from behind the desk.

She looks around the room, her eyes landing on the bed, then drifting back to mine. Her voice is softer and rawer now, the reality of the situation setting in. “How bad is it, Nessa?”

“Bad.” I say quietly. Her eyes flicker with fear.

“Are you sleeping here or are you needing me to walk you back to your place?” I ask. I never let her walk alone; her place is on the other side of town. With drunken pirates roaming the streets, and now Silas and his slayers on the loose, I want her to be as safe as possible.

“I want to stay here. There’s a book I started the last time I visited, and I want to finish it.” She says it so sweetly that it pulls a smile from me.

Nyra can disappear into a story, and I both love and envy her for that. We share the same taste in books, but I never feel as though I can escape through them the way she does.

I move toward the wall where my weapons hang, clipping everything I can carry to my belt: knives, daggers, throwing spikes. Anything I can wield fast, or hurl even faster. I was never one for pistols; I always preferred a more intimate kill.

Behind me, Nyra moves to sit on the bed. She picks up a book from the stack on my nightstand, the one with the frayed leather cover and burned corners, and cracks it open without hesitation. It’s a romance about a knight and a princess.

“Ah, that's a good one. It’s one of my favorite reads.” I smile softly at her.

“You’ve finished it already? You just got it the other day,” Nyra says with curiosity.

“I’m a fast reader,” I bite back.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” She lets out a low laugh as her eyes find the words on the page detailing a forbidden romance and a missing princess.

“I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” I say as I reach for the door. She looks up from the pages and smiles. That smile… gods. Her smile is the one thing in this whole godsdamn world that has ever taught me anything, about laughter and friendship. My stomach twists at the sickening idea of never seeing that smile ever again.

She’s safe for now, already lost in a world of fiction and fantasy, but I fear the day will come when I’ll look back on this moment and wish I’d stayed with her just a little bit longer. One last look, then I pull open the door and step into the corridor. Alone at last, I let out a shaky breath, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

The most dangerous man I’ve ever known is coming for us all.

Chapter four

Blood Mark

I climb the stairs up and out of the Underground, leaving Nyra safely below. I’m secretly glad she chose to stay in my lair. It means I know she’s safe for the night. If anyone tried to take Nyra from me, I’d set the world ablaze before I let them lay a finger on her. And knowing Silas, if he knows about Zorren, then Nyra isn’t too far behind him as the next person he’ll target.

Right now, I need to get to my family. Bleu couldn’t have picked a worse time to dock. I stop in my tracks at the realization that Silas might have been waiting for this, setting his eyes on the horizon. He knows the routes of the pirates. He’s always a step ahead of everyone. Maybe he was just biding his time until Bleu returned, knowing I’d piece it all together. The warnings. The veiled threats. Zorren was nothing but a small step in his plan. But the biggest piece of my heart he could have played.

The blood mark weighs heavily in my pocket. I haven’t opened it. Once I do, I’ll be bound by blood to complete the task it requires of me. The person whose name is written there will become mine to kill. Each mark is sealed with dark magic I’m sure Silas gets from the witches. Fail to do the job, and I’ll be cursed with a pain excruciating enough to tempt me to take my own life. I don't ever want to know that kind of pain.

I make my way back up to Pebble’s Pub. I turn to the open side door of the pub and scan the room, searching for Bleu. The floorboards creak under my boots, sticky with years of spilled rum and blood.

This has always been his haunt. Every time he docks, he finds his way here to swap stories, drink, to laugh too loud with old friends and occasionally make new ones. I hear him before I see him.

Another perk—or curse—of being Sirenborne is my hearing. Even in a room bursting with noise, I can pinpoint a single voice, a whispered breath, the scratch of a blade being unsheathed. I’d know Bleu’s laugh anywhere. Gravelly, with that familiar undertone of mischief.

There he is, surrounded by his usual crowd: pirates, smugglers, and crewmen who’d follow him to hell and back. His eyes crinkle with joy, his tankard is half-empty, and his sleeves are rolled to the elbows. But where is Mira?

I begin walking toward him. Every step makes the room shift. Pirates, crime lords, and slayers alike all move out of my way. No one dares to meet my gaze as I part the crowd. A rush of adrenaline surges through me; seeing men terrified like this is one of my most favorite things. Finally, his eyes find mine.

“Cricket!” he booms, rising. His grin carves through his scruff. I hate it when he calls me that in front of others, and I roll my eyes. “My lethal little weapon.” His voice is a rasp, like he’s spent the night screaming at the wind. Maybe he has. Knowing him, he’s come straight from battle. He smells like it too, iron, smoke, blood, and the sea.

Gods know what he sees out there, what creatures he slays, what pirates he battles, which curses the witches send his way. The ocean is wildly unpredictable. Sailing through her must be just as freeing as it is haunting. But ever since Bleu lost Sirena, he hasn’t been the same. He doesn’t show remorse, doesn’t keep prisoners. Heartbreak forged him into a ruthless man with little to lose. The worst kind of weapon.

I walk up to him, and he throws an arm around my shoulders. I’m not one for physical touch, but he’s the closest thing I have to a father, so I allow it. “Bleu, let’s go.” My voice leaves no room for argument. Straight to business. With the attack on Zorren, I have no time to spare. Thank gods the night is still young.

He barely has time to take another sip before I turn on my heel and start for the door. “I’ve only just got here. What’s the rush?” he calls after me.