Chapter Twenty-Three

Idon't know where I am.

But my head is slumped over, throbbing with a million, pain-filled stars.

Aragon, Abe whispers inside my head. Aragon, wake up.

Vampyres have always been able to communicate telepathically, but Abe and I haven't really felt the need to, since it's usually just the two of us alone.

Until now.

I groan and raise my head. It's dark, and everything is moving.

I blink hard and try to get my eyes to adjust, only to realize it's dark because it's somehow nighttime, with the sky full of stars and scattered clouds, and the world is moving not just because I was hit on the head with a blunt object, but because it is moving.

I'm on the deck of the ship, chained around one of the masts.

In front of me is a tall, swarthy-looking fellow, his dark hair tied back and a few days' stubble on his cheeks, dressed head to toe in gray. He has a sword in his hand, though it's down by his side, and he's staring at me with both curiosity and amusement.

"Father Aragon," the pirate says in a wry voice, and I jolt at the sound of my godly name. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Captain Battista. You may call me Bones or Ramsay—it doesn't really matter, since you won't be with us for very long. See, we don't welcome liars on board the Nightwind. It's not just me; you'd find out that I'm actually quite tolerant, but rather, the ship herself doesn't like dishonest crew. She gets rather…cranky."

As if on cue, the ship groans as it goes over a wave.

"Who are you calling a liar?" Abe says from behind me, chained to the other side of the mast. He's trying to sound annoyed, but I hear the pain in his voice. He must have been hit with the same oar.

Abe, I warn him. He has a bad habit of talking back and not reading social situations properly. Or not caring to.

"You, obviously, Doctor Van Helsing," Ramsay says, "if that is, in fact, your real name. Frankly, it sounds verily made up."

"It's Dutch," Abe says, spitting.

"Ah! That explains why it sounds like a turd in your teeth," he says.

I'd laugh at that if I wasn't so concerned with how he learned I was a priest.

"It is his name, and he is a doctor," I growl at him. "And I was a priest. I was Father Aragon."

"Oh, I know," Ramsay says to me, leaning on the sword, his hands casually draped over the hilt. "You might not think we can keep up with all the news and rumors that this world has to offer due to us being perpetually at sea, but we do visit many ports. We talk to many different souls—when we're not drinking from them—and we have other ways of getting information. I reckon I know a lot more than you think I do."

"Apparently," I say under my breath.

"So tell me, Father," he says, not impressed. "Why did you and the doctor lie about your past vocation? Were you ashamed of what you did in Nombre de Jesus?"

How in damnation did he know that?

Easy, Aragon, Abe's voice slides into my mind. Let him speak first. Don't give away Larimar.

"Wouldn't you be?" I ask, looking the captain dead in the eyes.

He studies me for a moment. "I suppose I would be. Then again, I'm not like you. I'm not a beast. It would surprise me to learn that a monster feels shame."

"As you can see, I'm not a monster," I say to him through gritted teeth. "Presently," I add.

"I just don't know," Ramsay says, straightening up. He looks down the length of the ship toward the helm, and I follow his gaze to see a beautiful woman standing near the wheel. "Maren, I'm afraid I'm going to need some of your feminine intuition with these two."

The woman picks up the hem of her teal gown and walks down the middle of the ship, the rest of the crew parting for her like Moses parted the Red Sea. She doesn't at all look like how I thought a pirate woman would look. Her dress looks clean and extravagant, her long, wavy black hair pooling around her shoulders, framing her ample breasts.

Ramsay moves out of the way as she steps in front of me and crouches down to my level, keeping just out of reach in the event that I try to grab or kick at her.

Her eyes are a piercing shade of blue, almost unnatural, and she stares at me so intently that I fear she's learned absolutely everything about me already, that there will be no lies safe from her.

I sniff as she continues to look at me. She smells clean, like a woman and the sea, reminding me of Larimar. There's something about her that makes my cock twitch, causes my heart to stumble. She doesn't really look like Larimar, aside from her breasts, and I suppose any woman will smell like the sea if she's been on it for too long. But still…

"I'm Maren," she says in a rich, hypnotic voice. I know that Cruz said she was human, but there's something about her that makes me wonder if that's completely true. "They say I'm a good judge of character, but I think they just want to pass the responsibility off on me."

"The responsibility of?"

"Whether you live or die," she says flatly, a curve to her lips.

"We're Vampyres," Abe protests.

"Yes, I'm aware," she says. "But you learn a lot when you've been at sea. It's an inhospitable place if you're unsure how to adapt. We've had members of our own Brethren who have jeopardized the entire crew. We've dealt with them accordingly, but we don't like to make those same mistakes twice."

"There are only three ways to kill us," I say, my voice thick.

"Yes. I know. Decapitation, fire, and being stabbed in the heart with a witch's blade," she says. "When we had a troublemaker, we took off his head, then the rest of his body parts." She grins. "Slowly."

Hmmm. Perhaps that's why she reminds me of Larimar.

Then she sighs and, to my surprise, reaches out and touches my cheek, running a finger along it. Her nail feels especially sharp.

"I think you're a good man," she says, her eyes searching my face. "Handsome, for sure, but don't let my husband hear that."

"Maren," Ramsay says testily from behind her.

She grins. "He knows where he stands." Then her expression sobers, and I feel a little lost staring into her eyes. "But can we trust you? That is the question. You've been turned, but you were at one point a witch. Do you have a witch's blade you aim to use on us? Is that your purpose? To be a Vampyre slayer? Or perhaps there is no need when you can turn into a flying bat at will."

I swallow hard. "I can't turn at will."

"Well, that's even worse. If you can't control it, then we're all at risk. What if you decide to burn the ship down, with the rest of us on it, just as you did to your followers in the church?"

I don't have anything to say to that. All I have is my word, and honestly, I'm not even sure if it's all that trustworthy. It's the beast inside me that decides things in the end.

"Aragon is reformed," Abe says. "You will have to trust a doctor's opinion."

"Yes," she says tepidly, eyes flashing briefly over my shoulder. "We've heard all about your monastery."

"But how?" I ask. "How do you know about what happened at the village? About what I did?"

What else do you know?

"Word travels fast," she says. "As Ramsay explains, there are a lot of ports, and we have a lot of help in getting information."

Fuck, they are ridiculously vague for a bunch of pirates.

"It's magic, isn't it?" Abe says. "You use magic, the same that powers this ship when there is no wind."

Maren's face remains impassive, but I think Abe is right.

"A seeing crystal," I say to her slowly. "That's how. You have one."

What else did you see?

She exhales and straightens up. "I suppose you would find out sooner or later. Yes, we have one. We also have?—"

"Maren," Ramsay says sharply. She's said too much, perhaps.

She nods at him with apprehension and looks back to me.

"I'm not the captain," she says. "I don't make all the decisions here, but I have as much stature and power as my husband and anyone else aboard this vessel." She sighs again and gathers her hair in her hands, placing it behind her shoulders. "I think we must defer to Nill," she says to Ramsay.

"Who is Nill?" Abe asks, his voice going high.

But I barely hear them.

My eyes are glued to Maren's neck.

On the three faint lines along either side.

Former gills.

Abe!I yell into his head. She's a Syren. She was a Syren. Maren was a Syren!

How do you know that?he asks.

The gills. On her neck.

It's then I notice Ramsay staring at me curiously, noticing where my attention is.

"Nill it is," Ramsay says, breaking into a slow grin before he waves at the rest of his crew. "Come on, boys. Let's make these two walk the bloody plank."

"The plank?" Maren says with a dry laugh. "I thought that was beneath us."

"Come on, luv. It's a little more entertaining than just chucking them overboard."

Several members of the crew come forward, untying the chains and manhandling us as they drag us toward the side of the ship.

This would be a fantastic time for you to let the beast out, Abe says in my head.

He's right, but in my panicked state, I can't seem to do anything except fight back, and that gets me a couple more whacks to the head and punches to the gut, along with the occasional bite from one Greek-looking fellow, who gives me a bloody grin. Normally, I can withstand a beating like it's nothing at all, but ever since I've been on this ship, I feel positively human in the way everything hurts.

I think there must be some magic here, weakening us, I say to Abe.

Yes, that must be the reason why I can't fight off ten men, he says mildly.

The crew jostles us over to the side of the ship, one of them removing the siding until there's a lone plank jutting out over the black, endless sea.

And in that sea floats a shark fin, ominously circling below.

"Aren't you supposed to discuss this with Nill?" I ask as several swords prick my back, urging me to move forward onto the board.

"You will be discussing it with Nill," Ramsay says, leaping up on the railing and leaning on one of the ropes from the mast. He points at the water with his sword. "That's him down there."

"A shark?" I exclaim.

"He'll be the judge," Maren says. "Trust me, he's good at it."

I try to twist around to face the crew. They're all enjoying this all too much.

"Bloody pirates," I growl.

They bare their fangs and hiss at me in return.

Normally, I would think I could easily take on a shark. I took on Larimar, and she was much more cunning and vicious. But with my hands bound and this weakening spell, I'm not sure I'll have much of a choice.

Perhaps we'll be alright, Abe says from behind me where he's being held on the deck, not bothering to put up a fight anymore. A shark can't kill us.

I give him an incredulous look. It could bite off our heads.

His face is immediately crestfallen. Ah. Yes, I suppose it could.

"Enough!" Ramsay bellows. "Let the judgment begin for the Holy Man. Walk the plank!"

I try to stand my ground, but half a dozen swords spear into my back.

I cry out and stumble forward, losing my footing.

I pitch over the side and fall toward the dark waves, moonlight reflecting on the crests.

The water hits me like a hammer, and I immediately sink until I start kicking. It's freezing cold, but to my relief, it doesn't bother me, which means whatever weakening spell they had on us up there doesn't work down here.

I dive under the waves and away from the sides of the ship, just in case. When I break the surface, I look around for the shark's fin, but to no avail. Abe's cry brings my attention to the ship as they push him along the plank. He handles it a lot more gracefully than I did, making it all the way to the end of the plank before one of the pirates shakes the other end, and he goes falling into the surf, sinking with a splash.

I quickly start kicking my legs over to him, moving my bound hands over like I'm pulling myself forward.

"Abe!" I yell, but he hasn't surfaced.

I dive under, opening my eyes to see him hovering in the darkness, looking at me.

What do we do?he asks. Go to the surface? Start swimming? Which way? Where are we?

I blink at him, the salt stinging my eyes, trying to figure out a plan of action. We can't drown, so we aren't in any danger there, but drifting in the ocean for eternity doesn't sound very enticing.

Then the shark comes up behind Abe like a ghost from the darkness, a shadowy shape that would strike fear in the heart of any man, mortal or not.

Behind you!I yell.

Abe whirls around just in time to see the shark, his mouth opening in a watery scream, bubbles rising to the surface.

But the black-eyed fish pays him no attention and keeps gliding over toward me. Its mouth is open slightly, displaying rows of serrated teeth, and in an absurd instance of longing, I'm reminded of Larimar.

The shark comes right to me, and I'm getting ready to fend it off. If it bites off my hands, at least I'll be free of the chains.

It veers off to the side just before we collide, and I swirl around, watching it circle me, unable to take my eyes off it. It's a large, sleek, graceful, killing machine, and the way its empty eyes stare at me suggests an intelligence greater than I thought.

The shark continues to swim around me in lazy circles, expending as little energy as possible before it suddenly swims over to Abe with giant sweeps of its tail. It goes around him for a few revolutions and then suddenly takes off into the deep, disappearing from view.

Abe turns to look at me. Do you think it's going to come back?

I shake my head, staring into the inky black depths where the shark—Nill—disappeared. I have no idea.

Suddenly, there's a splash in the water from the direction of the ship, and two heavy ropes sink below the waves.

Perhaps this is a parlay, Abe muses.

The two of us swim as well as we can over to the ropes, grabbing them with our bound hands before kicking up to the surface.

Despite the fact that I can't drown, I still instinctively gasp for air. Then, I look up at the ship to find the crew peering over the sides at us.

"You passed the test," Ramsay yells at us with a big grin, the kind you want to punch right off his face. "Come aboard, mateys. Welcome to the Brethren of the Blood."

I give Abe a tired look, spitting out water as we start to climb the rope. "And you thought joining a band of pirates was a good idea."