9. Chapter Nine

Adense fog had settled over the city, its tendrils snaking around the sharp inclines of the roofs and chimney columns. Thanks to the fight and the unexpected appearance of the pirates, the brothel closed earlier than usual that evening. But still, Kalia found herself pacing the floor of her tiny bedroom late into the night, the dark shadows arcing across the wall as the moon reached its apex.

She couldn"t shake the dread that settled like a bucket of ice water in her chest. More than once, she hadn"t realized she"d been rubbing at her sternum as she paced, her eyes glued to the wood-grained patterns in the floorboards. She thought of the one-eyed man, his resolve to fight her off, and the look of pure disdain when his stare finally landed on her.

It had been years— decades even— since someone had pointedly figured out her magic. And the last time…the last time…Kalia couldn"t quite manage to suppress the shudder that built, and a shock of pimpled flesh broke out over her skin. She didn"t want to remember the last time. She actively tried to forget it. Maybe, just maybe, she got it wrong. Perhaps the man had no idea who or what she was, and she was merely projecting her uneasiness onto him.

Yet the familiar flicker of knowledge that darkened Alaric"s gaze put the fear of the gods into Kalia, something she wasn"t bound to forget easily. She hoped the man and his bandy group of pirates were already aboard their ship, readying to set sail at the earliest hint of dawn. She glanced out the window to find the black, star-speckled sky still blanketing the city, no hues of orange or gold streaking through the clouds.

Kalia sighed, soothing her bare arms as she turned toward her bed. At the very least, she could try to get some sleep and visit Pete in the morning for a calming draft. It was okay. She was fine. She was reading into everything. It was ridiculous to think a pirate who lacked the fortitude to keep both of his eyes figured out what she was. She lifted her hands to press the heels of her palms into her eyes, taking in a deep, slow breath that smelled faintly of rotting garbage and heavily of floral perfume that wafted from the main room.

A damp chill rose from the cracked panes, rustling the torn curtain and skittering along the floor. Kalia sighed again as she pivoted on the balls of her bare feet, grabbed her cloak from the back of the old chair, and marched toward the window. She hated this city. She hated this room. She hated this view. She hated that she always felt wet in the year"s cooler months. She reached the window and began to stuff the corners of the cloak into the cracked crevices of the glass, careful not to cut herself on the jagged pieces.

But movement caught the corner of her eye, and Kalia lifted her gaze to peer down to the alley below. She drew her head back as a sudden cold that had nothing to do with the draft expanded in her belly.

Alaric, the one-eyed, blonde man, leaned against the brick wall opposite her window. He watched her through the grimy, stain-riddled panes that separated Kalia from the outside world. He exhaled, the air curling around him in a misty cloud. He nodded into the shadows to his right and left. The four other men stepped forward, drawing their blades as they crossed the grease-slickened stones.

Kalia stepped back, the cloak slipping from her fingers and tumbling to her feet. A memory floated to the forefront of her mind, one of flashing swords and screams of terror only met with mirthless smiles. It couldn"t end this way. She wouldn"t let it end this way. And she was prepared to fight to the death before being taken to the king.

The glass shattered in the hallway beneath Kalia's bedroom, ripping her from her thoughts. She waited silently on bated breath, listening intently. A second scream echoed through the hall, and three sets of feet hurried past the door.

Muffled voices rose, and Kalia strained her ears further, trying to make out anything being said below.

"Guards!" The first discernible voice finally shouted. "Guards! Hel–" The voice cut out, replaced by a smattering of coarse laughter and the unmistakable zing of metal blades against…

Gods, she hoped it wasn"t what she thought it was.

Kalia lunged toward her bed, the satin of her dress clinging to her legs in a tangle of fabric. She reached down, retrieving two daggers wedged between the frame and the mattress. One she quickly strapped beneath her skirt, tightening the leather belt around her thigh. The second she kept in her hand, and she focused on the feeling of the smooth hilt against her palm to steady her jarring heart.

The bordello had awoken in a panic by the time Kalia yanked the door of her bedroom open. Servants scuttled by, running away from the staircase that led to the kitchens and the quarters near the back alley, forcing her to press against the wall as they went. She kept to the outer edge of the hallway when she finally lurched forward, deftly moving toward the narrow, wooden staircase.

A pistol went off as Kalia stormed down the stairs. She didn"t bother to be quiet now. Just as her bare foot touched the landing, she shoved past a lady who was scrambling down the hall, the acrid smell of used gunpowder heavy on the air.

"Kalia!" A servant cried out, grabbing her forearm like Kalia was a life raft in a winter sea storm. "Pirates. It"s pirates!"

Something was warm and sticky beneath the servant's hand, smeared onto Kalia's skin. She glanced down that coldness in her chest growing when she noticed the bloody handprint stamped against her arm. She swallowed and leveled the servant with a steady gaze.

"What do they want?" Kalia asked as she attempted to pull her arm from the servant's grasp. She hadn"t learned this one"s name and didn"t think she needed to until now. The woman tightened her grip, and half-moon indentations bit into Kalia's wrist from the servant's fingernails.

"Coin? One of the ladies? The madam? Take your pick." The woman used her free hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. More blood smeared there. "We have to go. The guards, they–"

Kalia jostled forward when someone shoved past her to clamber up the stairs. She couldn"t see who it was, only catching the end of their cloak whipping around the corner when she looked up. She darted to the kitchen and spotted a group of servants huddled beneath the bundled herbs hanging from the ceiling.

She steeled her resolve, swallowing through the rawness of her throat from the slowly increasing smoke and dust.

"In the kitchens, under the far counter, there is a hidden door barred by an iron lock," Kalia started, gripping the servant's shoulders and twisting her around to face the entrance where the group was huddled. "The madam keeps the keys hanging by the door in her office. Get as many people as you can to–"

"What about you?" The servant asked, her eyes wide as she frantically glanced over her shoulder. "Aren"t you–" She trailed off, her gaze falling to the blade in Kalia's hand. "No, Kalia, you can"t. Come with us, please. Come with–"

Before the servant could finish, another pistol shot rang from the threshold of the main room. The servant let out a pained grunt as she fell to her knees, the crack of bone against wood a sharp thwack over the surrounding battle. She swayed for a long moment, her breathing falling shallow as blood stained the apron still tied around her waist. And when the nameless woman finally crumpled over, Kalia stumbled back while covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Hello, lovely."

The voice was amused, the coarse rasp tone hinting toward someone whose vocals had long been affected by the briny, open-sea air. Kalia dropped her hand and lifted her gaze to scrutinize the man who had appeared, fixing her unblinking stare on him.

"You were here before," Kalia said as she tilted her chin, tightening her grip on the blade. She wasn"t pleasant. There was no reason for that. He would undoubtedly kill her either way. "What do you want?"

Alaric stepped toward her, but she stood her ground, refusing to shift even an inch. He paused, regarding her with wary, narrowed eyes. "I know what you are," he finally replied. "I felt you. In here." He tapped his knuckle against the side of his head.

"I don"t know what you"re talking about."

Alaric's yellowing, toothy grin vanished as his lip curled in disgust. "Playing ignorant isn"t going to work." He spat to the side— she hated pirates, the foul creatures— though his eyes never left Kalia. "I saw you in my memory. I felt you."

"Imagining things, are we?" Kalia shot back. She prayed to the gods that it would buy the other servants time to escape. "Even for a pirate, that"s—"

Alaric took another demanding step toward her, but Kalia was ready. Her power webbed from her like a fishing net, ensnaring him in a binding trap she knew he couldn"t escape. It plunged them into mindless darkness, surrounding them in a never-ending black. If she died while the battle raged around them, at least she would take him with her.

The sound of rushing water filled her ears, drowning out Alaric"s muffled yells of anger. Sunlight suddenly bloomed around them, illuminating the scene Kalia had dropped them in.

Alaric blinked, reeling his head back as he looked around. Confusion blanketed his features, making him appear even more brainless than she already knew he was. "Where…?" He paused, and Kalia knew he was taking in the ship"s deck that appeared around them. It could have been real—from the boat"s dip in the waves to the gulls squawking as they landed on the masts to the faceless men pulling at the rigging. "What did you—?"

"I could make you do anything, you know," Kalia said quietly, reveling in the powerlessness that erratically flickered over his face. She was in control now; he was nothing but a cockroach to her. He may have had no clue what she was, but she would ensure he regretted finding out. "They say the mind is a powerful thing. I could make you think you were drowning."

The scene switched in a snap, and the two of them were underwater. Fish darted past, their shadows tinged a bluish-green. Kalia"s hair rippled in the current, and she watched as he clutched his throat, thrashing in the cool water.

"Or you could be falling."

The vision flipped again. This time, moisture dampened their skin as they careened through a wispy cloud. Shafts of light pierced through, casting shadows on the earth far below them. Alaric let out a gasping yell, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

The ground came closer and closer, the rocky shore sharpening into view. Alaric squeezed his eyes closed just as the speckled coloring on the stones could be picked apart, and suddenly, his vision shifted for a third time.

Alaric trembled, his knees knocking together as he cowered into himself, still anticipating an impact. When it didn"t come, Kalia watched as he peeked his eyes open to glance around.

They were in a meadow now. Tall, dry grass swishedas it bent in the warm breeze, and Kalia ran her hands over the bristles that grew on the end of it. Alaric seemed to realize he was safe. His shoulders dropped in relief, and his spine straightened as he stood to full height. She wanted to make sure he never felt relief again.

"I could make you feel so much pain that you wished you were dead."

Dark clouds gathered on the horizon as a vicious wind built, blowing away the light wisps slowly tracking across the blue sky. The once swaying grass now bowed to the incoming storm. The clouds obscured the sun, drawing the meadow into shadow. Thunder cracked, shuddering the ground beneath their feet, and lightning forked across the gray.

Her fury rose as it collided with Alaric"s fear, and it swelled inside Kalia with such intention that she thought her chest would crack from the pressure. There was nowhere for it to go—nowhere for her to go. So she poured that white-hot rage into the storm, clenching her hands into tight fists at her side.

Alaric came into the bordello and assisted in killing all of those people. How dare he smirk at her as he stood there over the servant"s dead body? If it were up to her, and with Kalia in control here, she knew it would be, Alaric would get swept up in this game. In her game.

She was a Voyant, and she would ensure he felt every bit of her power.

A maelstrom formed in the clouds above, swirling air and debris that ripped the distant trees from the ground, splaying their roots toward the sky. Hailstones began to fall, pelting Alaric until red welts bubbled on his flesh. And, still, he held firm. That only spurred Kalia"s anger further.

"I"ve known of your power, djinn," he yelled over the roar of gale. He ducked down as a loose branch flew by, narrowly missing the crown of his head. "I know what you can do. But there"s one thing you"ve overlooked."

Djinn? What the fuck was a djinn?

Kalia quirked her brow, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh?" She asked instead, sending him a challenging stare. A saccharine smile pulled the corners of her lips. "And what"s that?"

"My men are looking for you, too. If you"re in here with me," Alaric said, his eye lighting with a sparkle that made Kalia's belly twist. "Then who is protecting you out there?"

Before Kalia could respond, there was a sharp whack at the base of her skull that ripped her from Alaric"s mind. The smoke of the bordello came clear, as did the servant"s body at her feet. Her vision blurred as she doubled over, and then everything went black.

"Excuse me, gents. What are you doing with her?" A man called out in veiled disinterest, though his hurried footsteps behind them still sloshed in a grease-stricken puddle.

Kalia groaned, cracking her eyes open. She was looking up, the smattering of stars nearly buried by the thick plumes of smoke shrouding the night. It smelled awful, like burnt fabric and charcoal wood that had smoked for too long. Someone was screaming—more than one someone.

And, gods, her head fucking hurt.

She was cradled in a pair of strong arms, the scent of sour body odor and salt flooding her nose as they left the thick smoke clouds. A roll of nausea and a cold clamminess crested through her. It took everything in her to swallow back the bile that sat heavy in her throat, though she had enough grit left in her to consider unleashing the vomit onto the man carrying her.Then she imagined how hard she would hit the cobblestone street, and her head throbbed further.

"You should consider removing your hands—" the voice continued, though this time it was closer. A hand brushed against her ankle, and the person carrying her halted in their tracks. There was a thump and a groan, followed by another splash.

"Do not touch her," a second voice commanded. "She"s going to Captain Rahmi Abada aboard The Mark of Malice. I"ll slit your throat if you try that again."

They began to move, the rocking akin to a ship bobbing in the port. She was going to be sick. Gods, her head hurt. She went to lift her hand and inspect the tender bump she knew was there but found her arm was too heavy. It flopped back to her side, dangling precariously over the man's forearm.

"You cannot take her," the first man called out. His voice ebbed with anger now, and heavy boots over slick stone echoed again through a narrow passage. "She"s unconscious, that"s vile, you–"

They must have been in an alley. Where were they taking her? Could she attempt a swift knee to her captor"s temple? Perhaps if she aimed it right. She tried to pry her eyes open further, but the gas lamps above her doubled with her blurred vision. She closed them tightly, moaning as her stomach overturned.

"What are you going to– Oi! He"s got a blade!"

A zing of metal on metal sliced through the air: clash, clash, clash.

"You"re better than I thought you would be," another voice purred, carnal brutality dancing in his tone. Kalia knew that purr well enough from the ladies in the bordello. And she knew it came from Alaric. "But now, you"re between us and our way to the port. I wouldn"t want to damage that pretty face of yours–"

Clash, clash, clash.

The sharp tick of the blades rang between her ears, clattering against the side of her skull.

"Take her to the ship!" Alaric ordered. The strain was audible from his effort to hold off the man following them. "Now! Take her now!"

Kalia groaned as she tried to dislodge herself from her captor's arms, but he only held her tighter to his chest. The man started to run, jarring her against him. He wasn"t careful, and her bare feet scraped against the brick walls as they turned one corner and then another. She wanted to pull her magic forward, but the pain in her head revolted at the very thought. The narrow passages of the back alleys acted like a funnel for the wind. She shivered against the cold air instead.

Footsteps pounded behind her, followed by a grunt and a final splash of water.

"He tried chasing after us," Alaric rasped. Metal against leather sounded— a sword being sheathed. "I finally got him, I think. One cut in the back of the knee."

There was a quiet pause as the man holding Kalia swung around, and she felt her stomach flip again. Dizziness overtook her, and despite her eyes being tightly clamped shut, stars broke out beneath her lids.She was definitely going to be sick. Her captor was definitely going to be unhappy about it.

"What are you thinking, boss?"

Kalia felt the rumble of his words vibrate against her shoulder. The shift of his tunic only worsened the sour stench of his sweat.That only worsened her nausea.

"Take him with us," Alaric finally said. He snapped his fingers. A pair of boots shuffled forward. "Captain needs more men. And we can"t have him report us to any guards before we return to the ship."

"You don"t want to kill him?"

There was another pregnant silence.

"No," Alaric replied, though his hesitation was noted. "Let the captain decide."

The darkness Kalia had been combatting finally overtook her and she succumbed to the pain in her head once more.