Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Evelyn

I DON’T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING CASUALLY EXPLORING the ship earlier. I should’ve been thinking about Lizzie. I should’ve been thinking about the fact that there’s no way she had only a single portal in her house, no matter how difficult Bowen claims it is to get to Threshold. She has another way here; I’m sure of it.

I look around Bowen’s cabin again, this time with an eye for a map. No matter how magical a realm, no matter how often things move within its boundaries, there’s always a map that can guide the way. Or at least there normally is. I don’t see anything of the sort. “How do you navigate?”

He gives me a long look. “If you’re thinking of escaping, I will remind you yet again that it’s an impossible task. Even if you could find your way to one of the islands that contain the portals out to the various realms, a full half of them are actively hostile to humans. Even down to the air, Evelyn. I realize you didn’t choose this life, but surely it’s better than dying.”

Of course it’s better than dying. But being free is significantly better than being actively conscripted into what is starting to feel like a cult. “Look, I won’t pretend I’m not considering escaping, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Lizzie.” The derisive way he says her name irks me. He’s dismissing a threat he really shouldn’t.

“Yes, Lizzie. This is serious, Bowen.”

He studies me for a long moment, and I hate that I can’t quite cover up my fear. At least it’s useful in this moment. His dark eyes go soft and he sighs. “Very well. Come here.” He pushes to his feet.

The sheer size of him is so damned distracting. No one should be that big. It’s rude, honestly. I almost smile before I remember why we’re having this conversation, and then my fear comes rushing back. It doesn’t matter what he says, but all information is worth having, so I rise and follow him over to the desk I clocked when I was in here earlier.

It was dark while we ate, but when Bowen waves his hand over it, the surface flares to life. It must be keyed to him. Bright colors swirl, finally settling into what appears to be a map. It’s mostly blue with islands scattered throughout, some in black and some in purple.

I point to one of the purple ones. “Why is this different?”

“Not all the islands are stationary. Some migrate in regular patterns. Some blip in and out of existence on their own schedule. Tracking them isn’t a perfect science, but we do the best we can. Right now, a full half aren’t present because of various factors of time and season and their own internal schedule.”

I study it further, grateful to have something to focus on that isn’t what I’m running from—who I’m running from. I try to count them, but am instantly overwhelmed. “There are so many.” And each represents a realm just as large and diverse as the one I grew up in. The thought staggers me. I knew the universe was big enough to be unknowable, but the proof in front of me makes my head spin. “Wow.”

“You see,” Bowen says gently. “This is why I’m not concerned about a threat a single vampire poses. It’s no easy task to navigate Threshold, even if she were to somehow make it here.”

I’m not totally reassured, but maybe he has a point. “If you say so.”

“This is also why the C?n Annwn are necessary. This map represents the people who live in Threshold, yes, but it also represents lives beyond number. Allowing predators to use Threshold to slip in and out of other realms is out of the question.”

I don’t want to agree with him at all, even on this, but there are reasons we have some pretty horrific legends about monsters in my realm. And I’m not talking about the so-called monsters that are vampires or shifters or, yes, witches. I’m talking about the ones that destroy cities to get their preferred prey of choice. There’s a reason so many legends about dragons exist, and that quite a few of them have rumors of virgin sacrifices attached.

Not even the hunters in my realm would be able to take down a dragon.

Even so, it’s hard to blame a dragon for ensuring that it feeds itself when it’s been stranded in a strange realm. What is it supposed to do? Die? That’s ridiculous. Surely there’s an answer that doesn’t involve killing it. I don’t have one readily available, though, and I doubt Bowen will appreciate me questioning his beloved C?n Annwn further. He’s feeling sympathetic toward me now, and I’ll admit to being wowed by the map, so might as well try to foster some goodwill, right?

“So what’s your story?” Even as I ask the question, I tell myself I’m only doing it to get more information to leverage in my aim for freedom. It’s not because I’m actually curious. This pirate might be sexy in a kind of rugged way, but he’s rigid and unbending while I’m as fickle as the wind.

He’s also standing between me and my freedom, which makes him the enemy.

Again, he pauses so long I think he might not answer. Again, he surprises me by doing it anyway. “I was pulled out of the sea when I was thirteen. Right here, in fact.” He points to a spot on the map in the middle of the blue. “I have no memory of my life before then, and no idea how long I was actually in the water. I was in pretty bad shape when they found me. I’ve been on the Crimson Hag ever since.”

I stare at the spot. I don’t have any concept of actual scale, but it seems like it’s a very long way from any of the nearby islands. If the ship hadn’t happened to be in the area when he came through, he would have died. The thought makes my chest hurt. He was just a kid. “Seems like it happens a lot.”

“Like I said, not as much as you seem to think. But when people fall through portals that are glitching or otherwise interfered with, it randomizes their exit, which means they don’t always end up on dry land.”

“How many people die just because they drop into the water without a ship around?”

He hesitates. “There’s no way of having a proper number, but it can’t be that many.”

I don’t know if he’s saying that to make me feel better or make himself feel better. It doesn’t seem to work on either front. No wonder he’s such a stick-in-the-mud. He has nothing to compare his current reality to, and even if he did, he’s been conditioned to see things a certain way since he was little more than a child. I’m sure all the realms are harsh in their own way—mine is no exception—but Threshold is particularly so. A flash of sympathy goes through me before I aggressively wrestle it down.

It doesn’t matter what this man has gone through. It doesn’t matter that I feel a strange sort of kinship. Neither of us has anyone. No, that’s not true. I might have lost the last of my family when Bunny died, but I have friends. A community.

And an enraged vampire ex who no doubt wants to rip every drop of blood from my body.

I shudder before I can catch myself. Bowen looks like he wants to reach out, but stops himself before he can do more than shift his hand an inch. “You have nothing to fear here. You’re one of us now. I said we’ll protect you and I meant it.”

It’s startling how badly part of me wants to believe him. To just … give in. Whether I have friends at home or not, I can admit I’ve been adrift for most of my adult life. Maybe some people turn eighteen and suddenly know what their purpose is, but mine has been elusive. The thought of joining someone else’s, especially when they promise to protect you and treat you like family, is more attractive than I want to admit.

It’s also a trap.

I want no part of a group that requires unquestioning obedience. I sure as fuck am not down with this vague mission statement about killing “monsters.” And I’ll never be okay with them forcing innocent people into their ranks under threat of death.

I aim for a charming smile, but I feel strained around the edges. “Like I said before, you don’t know Lizzie if you think there’s nothing to fear.” Easier to focus on the threat she represents than the longing inside me that I spend far too much time ignoring. It’s inconvenient that it decided to pop up its ugly head right now.

His brows draw together. Really, he’s almost adorable in his frustration. “What do I have to say for you to believe me? I will defend you with my life. I will kill any threat against one of my crew. You’re safe. I promise.”

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s both a horrific outcome and strangely comforting, all at the same time. Because the truth is that I don’t want Lizzie dead. Even if it means I will be safe. I care about her, vengeful vampire or no. Bunny always said I was too sentimental, and I can’t even pretend she’s wrong.

But that doesn’t mean that I’m suicidal … or a fool.

I clasp my hands and lower my head, letting my shoulders drop a little. The very picture of dejection and fear. I bet good money Bowen can’t read emotions or the energy around a person the way some paranormal folks can. Which is a relief, because while I can lie to myself enough to create a false emotion, it’s exhausting. Easier to lie with my body and words. “You don’t understand. But I do appreciate the fact that you’re willing to protect me. I know I’ve hardly been the easiest crew member to deal with.”

Bowen gives another of those sighs that sound like he’s carrying around the entire world on his broad shoulders. “No one is eager to join the C?n Annwn, Evelyn. You’re not the first one who’s had to go through an adjustment period. You won’t be the last. Just try to go easy on yourself … and on us.”

Not fucking likely.

I give him a trembling smile. “I’ll do my best.”

He’s still watching me as if I’m a snake that crawled into his bed, but there’s a softening around the edges of his harsh mouth that conveys I’m making progress. Battling someone tooth and nail is exhausting, and he would rather believe I’m a coward than continue to fight. Truly, I don’t know how he’s managed to stay captain of such an unruly bunch of pirates for so long if he’s this gullible. That said, I am not a fool. I can’t afford to assume I have him by the nose.

I glance at the map again. It’s less useful than I had hoped. The islands aren’t labeled, and even if they were, it would take me hours to read them all to determine which one contains the portal home. I’ll have to find another way.

“Why don’t you go to bed, Evelyn?” Did his voice just get deeper? I could swear it did. He seems closer, too, though I swear he didn’t move an inch.

Even though I know better, I can’t help lifting my head and looking up into his dark eyes. Serious. Gods, he’s so incredibly serious. It should be aggravating in the extreme, but with him looking like he’s about to drop to one knee before me and offer me his sword … I’m only human. My stomach flutters and heat courses through me. I don’t mean to lick my lips, but I’m all too glad I did when his gaze drops to my mouth and his attention sharpens on me.

The moment draws out, weighty and filled with the possibility of bad decisions. This man was literally threatening my life earlier today. It’s not like he was happy about it, though.

Thatthought is enough to snap me out of my lustful haze. What the fuck am I doing? He’s the enemy, even if he seems to get sexier by the minute. I know my standards are in the ground, but they have to exist in some capacity, and wanting to press myself against his hard body and see if I can drive this paladin pirate out of his mind is a clear violation of them.

I take a quick step back. Bowen tenses like he might close the new distance between us, but he shakes his head slowly. “Ah. What was I saying?”

“You were sending me to bed.” Damn it, my voice has gone low and throaty, as if I’m inviting him to my bed.

“Right.” He takes a careful step back from me, and then another, finally going so far as to round the desk and sink into the chair behind it. “We’re making port in the very near future. We’ll get you equipped with everything you need there. I know this is an adjustment, but you’re an adaptable woman, and I have no doubt you’ll make the best of it.”

I pull in a breath and try to get my head on straight. “Adaptable is my middle name,” I say faintly.

It’s not until I exit his cabin and feel the fresh sea air on my face that I realize what he said. We’re making port. That means a town. That means I’ll have a chance to escape. I thought it might take weeks before an opportunity arose, but apparently some god somewhere is looking at me with a kind eye. Finally.

The possibility of getting out of Threshold is almost enough to bury the fact that I very much wanted Bowen to kiss me back there. And if he had, I would have been incredibly tempted to put that desk to good use. It’s more than a little depressing to realize how deep my recklessness goes, but at least something good has come out of it.

Port. Escape. That’s all I need to focus on.

Even as I consider this turn of luck, the wind picks up until my hair whips around me, nearly harsh enough to draw blood. I shiver. I know better than to tempt fate, even if Bunny firmly believed that fate was hardly fickle enough to be altered by silly thoughts of a single person. Bunny knew a lot, and she went through some serious shit in her life, but I’ve always believed that fate is exactly as fickle and malicious as any other entity.

I have a feeling I’m going to be proven right yet again. The thick storm clouds gathering in the sky certainly seem to think so. I’ve lived through plenty of storms, but I’ve never experienced what appears to be a hurricane while standing on the deck of a boat. It feels like being a thimble in a bathtub. Even with magic, can we survive the violence currently riding the waves and air?

“It’s not a good idea to be out here, at least until you find your sea legs properly.”

I turn to find a short old crone standing a few feet away. She has medium-brown skin creased with the laugh lines of a life well lived, and the hair that’s mostly pulled back into a tight bun is nearly white. Even though the deck shifts sickeningly beneath my feet, I bow to her a little. If there’s one rule I live by, it’s to respect my elders. “I was just on my way to my room. It wasn’t this bad when I started dinner.”

She shrugs. “It doesn’t take much to get Llyr’s panties in a bunch. The weather when we’re at sea is changeable and sudden. You’ll get used to it.”

It takes several seconds for her words to penetrate. Llyr, as in the Welsh god of the sea. I give her a long look, but it’s impossible to tell if she’s merely making a metaphorical reference, or if she means that the literal god of the sea gets his panties in a bunch. With the elders I’ve interacted with over the course of my life, it really could go either way. When you’ve lived long enough, not even literal gods are impressive.

“I’m sure I will.” I might have a relatively antagonistic relationship already with several members of the crew, but this woman has a soothing vibe that I find myself reluctant to leave behind. Or maybe there’s something about the stranger that reminds me of my grandmother.

She pulls out what appears to be a hand-rolled cigarette. “I’m the navigator. Have been for decades. I was brought on under the last captain, Ezra.” She produces a flame from somewhere and lights the end of her cigarette. It’s only when she exhales a cloud of smoke that I realize it’s not tobacco she’s smoking.

I grin. “Care to share, Grandmother?”

She lets loose the cackle that would do any witch proud. “Girl, I like you, but I’m no one’s grandmother. You can call me Dia.” She passes over the joint and watches with interest as I take a long inhale. “It will get easier. I know that sounds like a trite statement, but it’s the truth. I wasn’t happy when Ezra gave me the choice, either. I tried to kill him a dozen times before it sank in that there was no escape.” She accepts the joint back. A few puffs and she blows an honest-to-gods smoke ring. “The C?n Annwn are not to be crossed. It took me a while to figure that out, but I’m a slow learner. Doesn’t mean you have to be. This ship is a family, if sometimes a dysfunctional one. You could be happy here if you give it enough time.”

She’s being genuine, so I don’t tell her that I have no intention of sticking around long enough to be embraced by this so-called family. It’s nothing personal.

I accept the joint back and take one more long drag, letting it burn all the way down my throat. “The old captain didn’t have a problem with you trying to kill him?” I can’t imagine getting the drop on Bowen. His damned telekinetic power gives him an instant advantage. My spells are faster than those of most witches, but he doesn’t need more than a thought to attack or defend.

She lets loose another of those amazing cackles. “To him, it was practically foreplay.” She grins, her eyes nearly disappearing in the deep wrinkles of her face. “It turns out, it was practically foreplay for me, too. Ezra and I had a lot of fun in our day.”

There’s not much else to say to that. I stand next to her and smoke for a few more minutes, watching the sky grow darker and more violent. It’s getting challenging to keep my feet. Especially with the weed in my system, making my head fuzzy. “You sure we’re not going to sink?”

“Nah. This is barely a fizzle. It will be fun.” She presses a hand to the center of my back and guides me to the door leading down to the cabins. “Get some sleep, girl. There will be plenty of work for you in the morning.”