Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Whisper Jinx
The Pirate’s Other Spawn
Part IV
-Ye can ask, or ye can find out-
“Waaah!” Zola groaned, bloody hand snatching Ninan’s hair, the strong slave girl keeping her down best she could. “Fuck it, just don’t…”
Sen-Iv took Jinx’s left hand in hers, pressed a clean cloth on the cut.
“I’m fine,” Jinx said, staring at the slaves’ desperate efforts to patch up Zola’s wound. She’s losing too much blood too fast, the devastated Gish thought, biting at the inside of her mouth.
“That fluid,” Sen said softly, so the Issir woman wouldn’t hear them, “Is her spleen leaking. A piece of the speartip must be in there, it tore her—” Jinx put a palm on the Cofol’s mouth to stop her.
“How long?” She asked and closed her eyes hearing Zola crying.
Only it was her. It was Whisper crying, Zola had left this world fighting like hell to stay in it. They just needed a dottore, or Lith’s magic in the end. A bit of Glen’s luck.
But alas, they had none of that.
Jinx grunted and opened her eyes with a sigh, the annular ring of her irises a crimson black, the rest of it a bright sparkly Gish-red, but for the small black pupil. She stared at the tiny sail approaching. A fishing boat, Dranchen had declared relieved, Jinx in no condition and in no mood, to argue ship types with him.
“Hey,” Soren said, standing behind her. The fact he’d approached her, hobbling on a bad leg impressive. “Ye should take this.”
The Northman had Zola’s crossbow and quiver in his hands.
Jinx backed away.
“Ah, you keep it. Have something of hers—” Soren stopped her.
“Don’t need it,” he grunted, cleared his throat a couple of times and then added. “Me aim is lousy and she’s safe in here,” he smacked his chest once, where the heart was. “So ye don’t need to worry.”
Aww, ye sweet chunk o’ rock.
Jinx pouted her mouth, fresh tears rolling down her eyes and hugged him tight. The quiver piercing Sen’s stupid tunic and her ribs, something fierce. “Thank you,” she murmured in the Northman’s hairy ear.
She was fresh out of ammunition.
“Whisper! Don’t!” Sen said, sterner than ever before and Stiles realizing something was up, turned -coiled like the snake he was- saw her pointing the crossbow on him and flinched in panic, then ducked behind Dranchen, who was busy manning the steering wheel.
They were missing a lot of crew members.
“Get out from behind him,” Jinx ordered.
“Ye won’t shoot?” Stiles asked hopefully.
“She won’t mister Stiles,” Sen said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Jinx felt a tick appear on her left eye, but she waved it off.
“I will,” Jinx replied calmly. “Only I’ll shoot once in yer knee first, work the rest of yer joints in turn after that. Dis quiver has over twenty bolts in it.”
“Strongly ask for fair opportunity to parley me case!” Stiles protested, still hiding.
“Ye ain’t gettin’ nothing, ye piece of traitorous shit! GET OUT FROM BEHIND DRANCHEN!” Jinx bellowed, mostly an insane shriek at the end.
“Jinx, please this isn’t helping,” Sen tried again.
“Ask him where’s Glen,” Jinx told her.
Sen frowned and stared at a twitching Stiles, glancing from behind a nervous Dranchen, the young sailor’s ogling eyes on Jinx’s crossbow moving like a viper ready to strike.
“Where is my husband, Mister Stiles?” Sen asked, not as sweetly this time. “You were supposed to be with him.”
“I made a run for it,” Stiles said quickly, lined face and sole eye looking nervous at the two women. “Glen’s talk went bad, an officer was killed.”
“You are not answering,” Sen said, all serious and glanced at Jinx. “Can you get him from there?”
“If the lad kindly ducks away,” Jinx replied coolly. “Sure.”
“Wait!” Stiles snapped and got up. He stepped away from the sweating sailor and raised his hands up. “That assassin was there, he did something.”
“Did Glen get away?” Sen-Iv asked, sounding worried. Stiles puffed his cheeks out, looking at Jinx nervously.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “They made a run for it, the dwarf went for the Gates, but I had a better way out.”
“Who was wit him?” Jinx asked, her hands tiring. I might have to shoot him, lighten the load a bit, she thought and aimed low, where the ex-pirate’s, ex-slave’s cock was.
“Wait, gods darn it!” Stiles yelled. “That Gish.”
“Alix?”
“Aye, him.”
Jinx glanced at the stoic face of Sen. The Cofol woman, other than biting part of her lower lip, was showing remarkable constraint.
“Alix would have had a plan, in case the talks went tits up,” she told her.
“Yes! There was a plan, perhaps it succeeded?” Stiles agreed, relief on his face.
“How did ye out?” Jinx asked, not amused.
“The brotherhood got her members out of Rida,” Stiles explained. “I got in a schooner that came straight for Burrow—”
“Where’s that?”
“Ahm, well…” Stiles seem to think about it.
“Me finger is dyin’ to twitch right now, ye lying cunt!” Jinx exploded on him.
“It’s a blasted port, for fuck’s sake! At the reefs!”
“Ye can get ships in there?” Jinx inquired, more calm now.
“There’s a whole blasted town, of course you can,” Stiles explained. “Don’t know how I beat you to the straits, but me arrived thar’ yesterday, then realized me had no coin to wet me gullet and hopped on Preston’s ship in the ensuing confusion.”
“What confusion?” Jinx asked, lowering the crossbow. Stiles sighed and collapsed on the quarterdeck rails behind him.
“Some rapscallion had pinched a ship from the port,” he said, wiping his face with a dirty sleeve. “Eh, it’s not that uncommon. Some of the gents went after ‘em, the rest craved a crack at you, me reasons.”
“Why?” Sen asked, not likening what she was hearing.
“For killing Rose,” Stiles replied. “I went wit Preston for the easy plunder, but we lost ‘em during the night, then the captain decided to change course and head for the Straits instead. Couldn’t exactly argue against that decision, seeing as me being amongst the crew, was unofficial.”
“Does that happen a lot?” Sen asked, genuinely interested.
Stiles grinned at the two slave girls glaring at him, then scratched his head.
“We’re not exactly keeping the best records and crews mingle a bit, unless they’re well-known.”
“You’re not known?” Jinx queried, hint of razz in her voice.
Stiles showed her two rows of yellow teeth, some gold in them as well.
“Actually meself being famed is befogged, by me being easily forgettable,” he explained, which made sense.
“You think he’s telling the truth?” Dranchen asked and Jinx grimaced, glancing at the small vessel coming straight for them.
“Pick yourself a blade, Mister Dranchen.”
The small sailing boat swung sharply around in a well-executed arc, being as it was nimbler and twice as fast and then came abreast on their port side. A lithe, short in height, dressed rather extravagant young man for the season, wearing a tricorn hat with two long white feathers on it, silk red bandana underneath it, large heavy coat open and a huge, well-polished silver buckle adorning his belt, waited for a couple of lines to be dropped and then crossed over.
He landed on the Marquette’s ravaged deck, opened his hands wide –either theatrically, or because he was drunk as a skunk- to prevent zipping straight across and over the rail-less more damaged side of the ship, fancy heeled boots gliding in the gory floorboards. The nimble figure balanced over stiff corpses and severed body parts, broken beams and netting, faltered for a moment seeing Jinx, Stiles, a couple of sailors and a clearly injured Soren, waiting for them to board and came to a stop.
White brows raised, a wicked sensual mouth, over a cleft chin and that mix-blood face smeared in shoot, especially around his expressive rich-emerald eyes.
Jinx begrudgingly admitted he had a pretty face for a guy.
“Milady,” their ‘visitor’ said in a ridiculous drunken droll, tipping his hat once, accent and voice color unsteady, but more Lorian than an Issir. “Gents of course, hah… right. Tis painfully clear our arrival be untimely for ye,” he looked about the Marquette, the man standing beside him armed to the teeth; a wiry Issir, his chiseled chest bare, returning Jinx’s glare with interest. “But Abrakas be what he is, one can’t pick and choose days, alike in a market.”
Jinx raised the crossbow to his face, the shock on it almost comical.
“Get out of the ship,” she warned him. “Use the same rope. Wish ye fortune at the landing. Tis a smaller deck and ye seem to need plenty of space to make it work.”
“Whisper,” Sen said behind her back and Jinx all but groaned in frustration. She had told her to stay away. “More of them climbed up, while you watched his entrance,” Sen explained, why she hadn’t listened.
Jinx eyed the sneaky mix-blood, who pretended he heard nothing.
“How many?”
“Four, one of them is really tall.”
“That would be Troy Jones,” the man intruded politely. “Wil’s twin, be they were one-sidedly divided at the womb, auspiciously young Troy received the lion’s share, much to the rigging’s delight and his brother’s ire,” their colorful visitor finished his long –very wordy- explanation with a fake smile, the teeth on it whole.
Jinx rolled her eyes. “The fuck are ye?”
“Leo Vale,” the young man said and Whisper felt a tingle in her tingly bits, quite unexpected and out of place. “A chivalrous buccaneer. Given dis opening, meself must also inform this splendid gatherin’ that this here vessel, is hereby seized in the purpose of piracy. Other activities might also be considered at a later date.”
“Buss me arse,” Stiles cursed in Jinx’s ear. “That’s old Erlad Vale’s crew.”
“I’ll be damned, ‘nine lives’ Stiles,” A grisly old pirate said, weasel eyes, a wrinkled Lorian face and small nose, making him look like an aging rodent. His long hair, more white than gray. “Thought ye were dead.”
“Ah,” Stiles replied recoiling, as if he’d seen the Kraken popping out of the sea again. “Roark Clark, cursed be the day. Had the same thought of ye.”
“How many lives left?” Roark asked him, not very pleased at the reunion.
“Lost a couple for certain,” Stiles replied backing away from the new group that had appeared. Seven, Jinx counted. This isn’t gonna work. Still… She turned to a gloomy and silent Soren, but someone touched her back.
“No,” Sen whispered. “I won’t take that risk.”
“Here I stand bedazzled at yer beauty milady of the plains,” Leo popped in with a prominent leer. Jinx’s eye twitched, half in the mind to put a bolt through his fancy hat. “Tis the right call this, if I may offer me promise to strengthen it more,” he stared at Jinx then and there was interest there, not wholly unexpected far as she was concerned. Whisper looked great in that tunic, but while she wasn’t in the mood, the pirate captain’s next offer made sense. “No harm shall come to you and yours milady of exotic origins,” Leo added and crossed his hands on his chest, adopting the stance of a snake-oil salesman.
“Do you trust him?” Jinx asked Stiles, out of the corner of her mouth.
“Eh, I don’t think Erlad had—” a one-eared pirate, with the narrow face of a killer, tilted his head and eyed him warningly. Stiles paused and cleared his throat, before continuing. “Seems a good deal, at this time.”
“We shall accept your terms, captain Vale,” Sen decided for her. “With the condition you take us to Eikenport.”
“Would there be profit for this ungodly detour?” Leo queried, thinking about it.
“There will be profit and you can have the ship,” Sen replied.
“Glen won’t like this,” Jinx warned her.
“I wager he rather sees us breathing, more than he’ll miss the ship,” Sen deadpanned and knowing how much the Cofol woman hated gambling, Jinx yielded to her argument.
“Mister Dranchen, kindly release the rudder to Mister Weiss,” Captain Vale asked, up on the quarterdeck. “Are ye the ranking officer perchance?”
“He’s dead,” the young sailor replied. “The carpenter is still breathing, but he’s injured.”
“Ah, jolly. Weiss is of a similar vocation. What about the rest of yer unfortunate crew?”
“Another four injured, no officers and the passengers.”
“Aye, there’s them of course,” Leo smacked his lips, hands clasped behind his back. “We might need the men’s help to sail the ship.”
“The men want to be released in Eikenport as well.”
“And they will, dear lad. Tis but a temporary employment!”
Right, Jinx thought and stepped away from the stairs looking for Soren, the scarred pirate standing behind the main mast barring her way. Jinx showed him her teeth in a snarl, but he didn’t seem particularly intimidated.
“What do ye want?” Jinx asked him, with a glare. The towering cutthroat, a bit long in the tooth as well, scowled. Whisper had seen that mean look someplace.
“Yer a Gish?” The man rustled, as if he’d swallowed a bucket of gravel.
“Is it the hair?” Jinx taunted. “I paint them, aye. And I’m short because my mother had no milk to spare. She had five of us to feed, someone had to make it wit water. So I never really grew to my full potential?”
“Me brother sailed wit one.” the man said, not bothering with her taunt and obvious lies. “Must be half a dozen years or so now.”
“Ah, well. Which port?”
“Eagleport.”
Hmm.
“Ye sure it was a Gish? We don’t much like sailing, despite what people think.”
The sea is full of horrors.
The aging pirate gave her a once over. Jinx wondered if her nipples were poking out of the thin tunic. The salt and breeze were doing a number on them.
“Used the wrong word. I meant journeying. More of a landlubber he is.”
Oh great. Abrakas gives, Jinx thought. Same time as he takes away.
Almost.
“What’s yer name old seadog?” She asked.
“Bristol Hook.”
“Aye, I knew Victor,” Jinx said and looked away. “For many years.”
Saw him crack a smile once in all that time.
“Captain was right to spare ye,” Hook’s brother said.
Jinx turned her head. “What was the alternative?”
“Nobody likes women on a ship, unless it’s their women.”
“Do you guys share?” Jinx taunted. “Just saying, since there’s not enough cunt around, for the demand.”
“People argued against it. They were motivated,” Hook said, not biting to her taunt again.
“You know him well?” Jinx queried.
“Sailed with h… with his father,” Hook frowned and looked away. “How did it happen?” He asked.
Bristol had caught her earlier undertone.
“He stayed back to help us cross a bridge. Tried to make it through, when the bridge collapsed, but didn’t manage it in time.”
“Died in water,” Hook smiled at that. “He never liked water.”
“Died a hero,” Jinx said and cleared her throat. “Saving us.”
“Can’t see how this makes it better,” Hook said tensely.
Jinx took a step back and stared in his sad eyes for a moment.
“I think you do, Mister Hook,” she told him. “I think you see and it does.”
Bristol Hook gave a nod with his head looking emotional, then grimaced and whispered, so only she could hear him.
“Change clothes, or stay inside Gish. Ye might be small, but ye’ll find that many think it’s plenty enticing just the same.”
Sen-Iv took her time to unlock her door.
“Yer fully clothed,” Jinx noticed, nodding to the two slave girls sitting on the bed.
“I thought it prudent,” Sen replied calmly.
Jinx removed her tunic, just pulled the flimsy cloth over her head, flashing everyone in the room and looked around for her pants.
“Iskay,” Sen ordered and the slave girl blinked and run to find her clothing.
“Does she always boss ye around?” Jinx asked her, while she snaked into her still wet leather pants. A leg on them badly mended, a memento from her scrap with the Cataphract.
Iskay blushed, but didn’t answer.
“Should we be worried?” Sen asked evenly and Jinx gave her a glance.
“Very. Put that desk behind the door.”
This wasn’t a jest.
Leo paused to let her pass through the narrow corridor, outside the captain’s cabin.
“Must admit, I found the tunic more agreeable, but can’t argue with the prudency,” he said with a toothy grin.
“I wear it on special occasions,” Jinx retorted, sneaking by him.
“Stormed by cutthroats being one o’ them?” Leo taunted, thinking he was pretty smart.
“And a Kraken after that,” Jinx deadpanned pausing to stare his way. Leo blinked and took a deep rugged breath.
“Yer serious.”
“Ye see me wear it, start praying,” Jinx warned him and he kind of blushed under all that paint. She stooped nearer and gave him a good sniff. “Yer drunk?”
And smell of cunt.
Wash yer clothes more my dude.
“Might’ve partaken to yer late captain’s liquor,” Leo admitted, backing away. “Are Gish like fairies?”
What kind of weird arse query is dis?
“What do ye think? Name’s Jinx by the way. Whisper is me other.”
Leo chuckled at that, then shook his head.
“Perhaps me should opt not to answer then,” he finally said. “Ye can have the first officer’s cabin for the night.”
“Thanks,” Jinx retorted. “I have a better spot in mind.”
Jinx reached the main yard, located at the midpoint of the main mast, the crow’s nest lookout being at the top yard above it and stopped there. The open sails flapping, the ship’s lights barely illuminating the deck underneath. Behind the ship’s stern, the fishing boat was following them towed by the larger Marquette. Leo had stripped the sails from the ‘Trout’ to repair whatever they could and just after the noon bell, they had started sailing west again.
The tired Gish closed her eyes, her feet and back hurting and let the night breeze lull her to a half-sleep for about a minute. Something metallic clanked over her head and she opened her eyes again to glare at the bottom of the crow’s nest.
“Who the fuck is there?”
“Gish?” Stiles asked, after a contemplating moment. “Are ye alone?”
“Nah, we have a party here, twenty people walking about on the fuckin’ plank!” Jinx hissed, unhappy at not being left alone.
“Keep yer darn voice down!” Stiles warned her.
“Yer hiding?” Jinx asked, a little perturbed, but at a lower tone.
“Nah, I ‘ave a blasted party by meself in the bloody dark!” Stiles hissed, throwing her words back at her.
Whisper smacked her lips, feeling a tad chastised.
“Fine. What’s the matter?”
“Ah, how about… pirates have taken over the ship?” Stiles said, the irony lost on him, and lowered himself on the mainyard, the sail making it dance under their feet.
“Friendly pirates,” Jinx corrected it for him. “Unlike the ones ye befriended.”
“Listen… Jinx,” Stiles said patiently. “There’re at least two killers down there. Not exactly pleased wit how this turned out,” he sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. He even lifted his eye-patch to wipe his eye under it, the wrinkled eyelid closed and deflated. “A nail took it,” Stiles explained, seeing her stare. “Vowed to be more careful after that.”
“Turned to piracy,” Jinx taunted. “Nothin’ safer than this.”
“Was one since the start,” Stiles hissed. “And yer not listening.”
“Leo seems fine.”
Stiles shook his head right and left, on the verge of despair.
“Sly Erlad was a vile man,” Stiles said reminiscing. “Joined his crew young, for a couple of years afore their untimely demise. Managed to get away, never regretted it,” he breathed once deep, let it all out. “He didn’t have a son, Jinx.”
“Three of Leo’s crew, served with his father. Checked it myself. They would know if he was an imposter, Stiles. They wouldn’t cover for him.”
“They would cover for Erlad’s daughter. He had ‘em sworn in blood, else it’s Abrakas Gullet for them,” Stiles hissed and stood with his back on the main mast.
“Hook is Victor’s brother,” Jinx pointed, not really believing his story.
“I know,” Stiles replied.
“Never said anything.”
“I was Glen’s slave, the lowest of the low, not exactly prudent to test whether the brothers were in touch. Ye think Glen would’ve stood up for me? Ye think Victor would’ve asked for his permission?”
He had half a point there.
“What did you do to Hook? This one,” Jinx asked.
“He thinks I ratted ‘em to the Admiralty, had Erlad hanged.”
“Did ye?”
Stiles glared at her. “Does it matter? Do ye think he’ll weigh the odds, or consider I might be innocent?”
“Ye said two killers,” Jinx noted, opting not to press him more. Stiles would have done anything to save his own neck. He might have done it again back in Altarin, for the same reason, but only Glen knew that.
“That Issir,” Stiles whispered. “Grim. I think he was in Van Fleet’s crew. Nastiest bunch in Burrow.”
“Leo seems cozy wit him,” Jinx said trying to remember, if she had talked to the Issir.
She hadn’t.
“I told ye why,” Stiles hissed.
That lad was a brawny specimen, with a lot of meat in all the right places.
“Right,” Jinx murmured, pushing the image away. “How certain are ye?”
“I ain’t certain. Could he have seeded a bastard? Sure. Plenty o’ them, in fact. It’s possible. But I do know, he talked about his daughter a lot.”
Jinx thought of Leo. She got nothing. Her mind too preoccupied and grieving to assess things clearly.
“They stole the ‘Trout’ from Burrow.”
“Aye, told ye that,” Stiles agreed. “His daughter worked a tavern there. Everyone knows her. Friends with the Attertons. I tried to tell on her—”
Hmm.
“Ye did, I remember that.”
“You can’t tell anyone,” Stiles warned. “Even if I’m wrong.”
“Why?”
“It’s a new command,” Stiles explained. “It might work out, or it won’t. Pray that it does.”
Not wanting to spend the night in Stiles’ company, Jinx climbed down again and reached the deck tired as a mule carrying rocks from a quarry for a living. She yawned and stumbled towards the cabins, the deck empty and poorly lit. Jinx paused a couple of meters from the stairs leading to the quarterdeck, Weiss manning it unseen from where she stood and stared at the silent black sea for a while.
The breeze blowing hot, but there was enough moisture around her, to not mind it. The Gish stared directly sough, as she was standing on the Marquette’s port side, towards the distant Sinking Isles. I’ve seen a Kraken today, she told her long lost mother and siblings. Used me only chance to save a friend that died shortly after. There was an ocean between them of course, behind all that blackness, but she squinted her eyes just the same to catch a glimpse that wasn’t there, a sense of nostalgia coming over her, the day’s losses weighing heavy on the young female. Jinx felt lonely and the silence of the sea wasn’t helping.
That is, Whisper was alone, until she wasn’t.
“Never had a Gish,” a man’s voice rustled in her ear, catching her by surprise. “Heard about yer kind aplenty, aye,” Jinx tried to turn, furious with herself for letting her guard down, but there was a pointy blade under her right ear, shaving towards her jawline and she froze.
“We are not that great,” Jinx said, sweat forming on her forehead.
“Beg to differ,” the man had a hand on her ponytail, pulled it back to better have access to her neck. A black hand. The Issir, she thought remembering Stiles’ warning. Is that bastard watching from above? Would he interfere? “I’ve seen ye in that dress. Ah, can’t think of anything else since then. Yer a cursed thing.”
“We can have fun,” Jinx croaked. “I’m very compliant and make the softest sounds.”
“Like me girls cold,” Grim admitted. “And dead quiet. I’ll have to reject yer proposal.”
Fuck.
“What did I say mister Grim?” Leo asked and Jinx, her hair pulled back and head tilted, watched him faltering down the stairs through blurring eyes, either a bad acting job, or riotously plastered. Seeing he carried a bottle of rum, freshly pilfered out of Captain Gray’s stock, obviously the latter. “The girls ‘ave reached an agreement wit the new management. Breakin’ it afore completion, would make for awfully bad press, won’t ye agree?”
“Ye made agreement wit the Cofol wench,” Grim replied, relaxing his grip on her hair. “Not this one captain. This one, we could share.”
Leo reached the bottom of the stairs, raised a finger asking for a moment and glugged down greedily from the bottle, blinking at the end of it. Stooping perilously on a foot, Leo placed it down carefully and then risen himself back up, to cross his arms on his chest.
“Please elaborate, Mister Grim,” he said in his drunken droll. “On yer suggestion.”
What the fuck? Jinx glared at him. Are ye fuckin’ kidding me?
“Ye take yer first, I help out,” Grim started with a leer and Leo nodded him along. “Or we can switch and I work on ye instead, have the Gish watch. I’ve seen yer lookin’. No one will know.”
Jinx blinked, but there was a sparkle in Leo’s eyes. Captain Vale sighed and looked at his expensive boots for a moment. Is that cocksucker seriously thinking about it? Whisper thought absolutely livid.
“Must admit, yer painting a stimulating picture here, ‘Jolly’ Grim,” Leo said with a smile. “See now though, if I go along wit it, someone would know, makin’ the whole scheme we ‘ave here, unattainable. For how is a captain to remain in charge of a ship, when a seadog has him grabbed literally by the whore’s pipe? Why, that seadog I’d venture would be running said ship. Savvy?”
Grim pushed her away from him, just as Leo unsheathed a fancy shortsword he carried on his belt. Jinx barely managed to keep herself from going over the rails and into Abrakas Gullet.
“Have ye ever used it captain?” Grim asked him and Leo looked up with a grin.
“Every day for the past… ahm, dozen years?” He grinned some more and sidestepped to get away from the stairs. “Commodore Atterton trained Rose on the long sword, the man being a squire at some point, or other, to a lord in Lesia. Now I favored the shortsword meself, but sometimes it’s not the size that matters, Mister Grim.”
Jinx frowned at the detail.
Everyone of note knows her. Friends’ wit the Attertons, Stiles had said.
“Ye’ll have Rose’s fate,” Grim spat and made to come at him, but Hook appeared behind the mast, just as he had with Jinx earlier and kicked him hard at the elbow. Grim growled and lost his blade, went to get the other, but Hook moving swiftly stopped him wrapping an arm at his neck from behind and touched the business end of a cutlass to his face, precisely at the right side of his nose. Grim froze in turn, like Jinx had earlier and Leo swaggered forward without hurrying to retrieve the other blade.
He tossed it away and used the empty hand to caress Grim’s chest, fingers running down on his chiseled stomach, Hook watching him with angry eyes. Leo nodded for him to release his hold and the aging pirate did, Grim sporting a smug smirk on his face.
“Mmm,” Leo murmured and Jinx slowly stood up from where she was watching them, eyeing each other, the moment tense. “Rose was my hero,” Leo whispered staring into Grim’s shocked face and stepping away, slashed savagely at his neck with the shortsword. The cut so deep and so precise, Grim’s head almost toppled back completely severed, the blood spraying over the wet deck-boards, the wooden rails and reaching the frothing sea.
Hook grabbed the flailing Issir, before he hit the deck, carried him a couple of feet murmuring under his breath and then slowly pushed him overboard, the splashing waves clearing the blood a couple of moments later. Leo waited for Hook to leave them alone, after a brief exchange and when the old pirate did, he stumbled to the rails and grabbed them with both hands shaking allover.
“Never done this afore?” Jinx asked, after she’d slowly approached him. The Gish was a bit rattled with the sudden turn of events as well, the surge of adrenalin snapping her back into the present. Her senses sharpened again.
“Ye can tell?” Leo asked her.
I can tell many things.
“Uhm, been in the life for a while now,” Whisper murmured eyeing his face. “Easier to think about things, different seeing them. Doing them, is a whole other matter.”
Leo gulped down and glanced at the bottle, he’d left near the stairs.
“How do you fight it?” He asked, his droll forgotten.
“Ye don’t,” Jinx swished, feeling her heartbeat increasing. Leo drew a deep breath in, struggled with it and let it out slowly. “Breathing helps,” she added.
Leo turned to look at her. Rich-emerald eyes, the charcoal paint making them more prominent in the deck’s dancing lights.
“Do Gish…” He tried to say anxiously, but Jinx approached him again like before, small nostrils sniffing, all a taunt as she already knew, sides of her lips curling in a wayward smile.
“Ye can ask,” Whisper Jinx whispered, a hand reaching for his shirt collar, to pull him down towards her face. “Or ye can find out.”
Leo blinked and then his lips found hers, teeth clinging before they adjusted, a tongue dancing inside, Jinx’s other hand snaking over his nape, to keep him steady. Leo groaned in her mouth and Jinx at last felt the woman’s taste on her tongue. Rum, spit and the scent of her arousal burning at her core and unable to keep it in, she started chuckling remembering Sen’s prophetic words.
“What?” Leo asked seeing her crying and smiling at the same time. “Was it that bad?”
“It depends,” Jinx retorted, just as Leo went at it again, teeth catching her lower lip and pulling it, a hand under her vest a little clumsy, but she could work on that. “How fast can ye climb the main mast?”
Leo Vale stood back surprised, her eyes misty and glanced up.
“Stiles is there,” she noted a little worried, but Jinx put a finger on her lips to stop her.
“Stiles knows, but he won’t talk,” Jinx reassured her, adding just to get it out of the way. “And I don’t mind a silent crowd.”
Gish are social like that.
Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Whisper Jinx
The Pirate’s Other Spawn
Part IV
-Ye can ask, or ye can find out-
“Waaah!” Zola groaned, bloody hand snatching Ninan’s hair, the strong slave girl keeping her down best she could. “Fuck it, just don’t…”
Sen-Iv took Jinx’s left hand in hers, pressed a clean cloth on the cut.
“I’m fine,” Jinx said, staring at the slaves’ desperate efforts to patch up Zola’s wound. She’s losing too much blood too fast, the devastated Gish thought, biting at the inside of her mouth.
“That fluid,” Sen said softly, so the Issir woman wouldn’t hear them, “Is her spleen leaking. A piece of the speartip must be in there, it tore her—” Jinx put a palm on the Cofol’s mouth to stop her.
“How long?” She asked and closed her eyes hearing Zola crying.
Only it was her. It was Whisper crying, Zola had left this world fighting like hell to stay in it. They just needed a dottore, or Lith’s magic in the end. A bit of Glen’s luck.
But alas, they had none of that.
Jinx grunted and opened her eyes with a sigh, the annular ring of her irises a crimson black, the rest of it a bright sparkly Gish-red, but for the small black pupil. She stared at the tiny sail approaching. A fishing boat, Dranchen had declared relieved, Jinx in no condition and in no mood, to argue ship types with him.
“Hey,” Soren said, standing behind her. The fact he’d approached her, hobbling on a bad leg impressive. “Ye should take this.”
The Northman had Zola’s crossbow and quiver in his hands.
Jinx backed away.
“Ah, you keep it. Have something of hers—” Soren stopped her.
“Don’t need it,” he grunted, cleared his throat a couple of times and then added. “Me aim is lousy and she’s safe in here,” he smacked his chest once, where the heart was. “So ye don’t need to worry.”
Aww, ye sweet chunk o’ rock.
Jinx pouted her mouth, fresh tears rolling down her eyes and hugged him tight. The quiver piercing Sen’s stupid tunic and her ribs, something fierce. “Thank you,” she murmured in the Northman’s hairy ear.
She was fresh out of ammunition.
“Whisper! Don’t!” Sen said, sterner than ever before and Stiles realizing something was up, turned -coiled like the snake he was- saw her pointing the crossbow on him and flinched in panic, then ducked behind Dranchen, who was busy manning the steering wheel.
They were missing a lot of crew members.
“Get out from behind him,” Jinx ordered.
“Ye won’t shoot?” Stiles asked hopefully.
“She won’t mister Stiles,” Sen said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Jinx felt a tick appear on her left eye, but she waved it off.
“I will,” Jinx replied calmly. “Only I’ll shoot once in yer knee first, work the rest of yer joints in turn after that. Dis quiver has over twenty bolts in it.”
“Strongly ask for fair opportunity to parley me case!” Stiles protested, still hiding.
“Ye ain’t gettin’ nothing, ye piece of traitorous shit! GET OUT FROM BEHIND DRANCHEN!” Jinx bellowed, mostly an insane shriek at the end.
“Jinx, please this isn’t helping,” Sen tried again.
“Ask him where’s Glen,” Jinx told her.
Sen frowned and stared at a twitching Stiles, glancing from behind a nervous Dranchen, the young sailor’s ogling eyes on Jinx’s crossbow moving like a viper ready to strike.
“Where is my husband, Mister Stiles?” Sen asked, not as sweetly this time. “You were supposed to be with him.”
“I made a run for it,” Stiles said quickly, lined face and sole eye looking nervous at the two women. “Glen’s talk went bad, an officer was killed.”
“You are not answering,” Sen said, all serious and glanced at Jinx. “Can you get him from there?”
“If the lad kindly ducks away,” Jinx replied coolly. “Sure.”
“Wait!” Stiles snapped and got up. He stepped away from the sweating sailor and raised his hands up. “That assassin was there, he did something.”
“Did Glen get away?” Sen-Iv asked, sounding worried. Stiles puffed his cheeks out, looking at Jinx nervously.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “They made a run for it, the dwarf went for the Gates, but I had a better way out.”
“Who was wit him?” Jinx asked, her hands tiring. I might have to shoot him, lighten the load a bit, she thought and aimed low, where the ex-pirate’s, ex-slave’s cock was.
“Wait, gods darn it!” Stiles yelled. “That Gish.”
“Alix?”
“Aye, him.”
Jinx glanced at the stoic face of Sen. The Cofol woman, other than biting part of her lower lip, was showing remarkable constraint.
“Alix would have had a plan, in case the talks went tits up,” she told her.
“Yes! There was a plan, perhaps it succeeded?” Stiles agreed, relief on his face.
“How did ye out?” Jinx asked, not amused.
“The brotherhood got her members out of Rida,” Stiles explained. “I got in a schooner that came straight for Burrow—”
“Where’s that?”
“Ahm, well…” Stiles seem to think about it.
“Me finger is dyin’ to twitch right now, ye lying cunt!” Jinx exploded on him.
“It’s a blasted port, for fuck’s sake! At the reefs!”
“Ye can get ships in there?” Jinx inquired, more calm now.
“There’s a whole blasted town, of course you can,” Stiles explained. “Don’t know how I beat you to the straits, but me arrived thar’ yesterday, then realized me had no coin to wet me gullet and hopped on Preston’s ship in the ensuing confusion.”
“What confusion?” Jinx asked, lowering the crossbow. Stiles sighed and collapsed on the quarterdeck rails behind him.
“Some rapscallion had pinched a ship from the port,” he said, wiping his face with a dirty sleeve. “Eh, it’s not that uncommon. Some of the gents went after ‘em, the rest craved a crack at you, me reasons.”
“Why?” Sen asked, not likening what she was hearing.
“For killing Rose,” Stiles replied. “I went wit Preston for the easy plunder, but we lost ‘em during the night, then the captain decided to change course and head for the Straits instead. Couldn’t exactly argue against that decision, seeing as me being amongst the crew, was unofficial.”
“Does that happen a lot?” Sen asked, genuinely interested.
Stiles grinned at the two slave girls glaring at him, then scratched his head.
“We’re not exactly keeping the best records and crews mingle a bit, unless they’re well-known.”
“You’re not known?” Jinx queried, hint of razz in her voice.
Stiles showed her two rows of yellow teeth, some gold in them as well.
“Actually meself being famed is befogged, by me being easily forgettable,” he explained, which made sense.
“You think he’s telling the truth?” Dranchen asked and Jinx grimaced, glancing at the small vessel coming straight for them.
“Pick yourself a blade, Mister Dranchen.”
The small sailing boat swung sharply around in a well-executed arc, being as it was nimbler and twice as fast and then came abreast on their port side. A lithe, short in height, dressed rather extravagant young man for the season, wearing a tricorn hat with two long white feathers on it, silk red bandana underneath it, large heavy coat open and a huge, well-polished silver buckle adorning his belt, waited for a couple of lines to be dropped and then crossed over.
He landed on the Marquette’s ravaged deck, opened his hands wide –either theatrically, or because he was drunk as a skunk- to prevent zipping straight across and over the rail-less more damaged side of the ship, fancy heeled boots gliding in the gory floorboards. The nimble figure balanced over stiff corpses and severed body parts, broken beams and netting, faltered for a moment seeing Jinx, Stiles, a couple of sailors and a clearly injured Soren, waiting for them to board and came to a stop.
White brows raised, a wicked sensual mouth, over a cleft chin and that mix-blood face smeared in shoot, especially around his expressive rich-emerald eyes.
Jinx begrudgingly admitted he had a pretty face for a guy.
“Milady,” their ‘visitor’ said in a ridiculous drunken droll, tipping his hat once, accent and voice color unsteady, but more Lorian than an Issir. “Gents of course, hah… right. Tis painfully clear our arrival be untimely for ye,” he looked about the Marquette, the man standing beside him armed to the teeth; a wiry Issir, his chiseled chest bare, returning Jinx’s glare with interest. “But Abrakas be what he is, one can’t pick and choose days, alike in a market.”
Jinx raised the crossbow to his face, the shock on it almost comical.
“Get out of the ship,” she warned him. “Use the same rope. Wish ye fortune at the landing. Tis a smaller deck and ye seem to need plenty of space to make it work.”
“Whisper,” Sen said behind her back and Jinx all but groaned in frustration. She had told her to stay away. “More of them climbed up, while you watched his entrance,” Sen explained, why she hadn’t listened.
Jinx eyed the sneaky mix-blood, who pretended he heard nothing.
“How many?”
“Four, one of them is really tall.”
“That would be Troy Jones,” the man intruded politely. “Wil’s twin, be they were one-sidedly divided at the womb, auspiciously young Troy received the lion’s share, much to the rigging’s delight and his brother’s ire,” their colorful visitor finished his long –very wordy- explanation with a fake smile, the teeth on it whole.
Jinx rolled her eyes. “The fuck are ye?”
“Leo Vale,” the young man said and Whisper felt a tingle in her tingly bits, quite unexpected and out of place. “A chivalrous buccaneer. Given dis opening, meself must also inform this splendid gatherin’ that this here vessel, is hereby seized in the purpose of piracy. Other activities might also be considered at a later date.”
“Buss me arse,” Stiles cursed in Jinx’s ear. “That’s old Erlad Vale’s crew.”
“I’ll be damned, ‘nine lives’ Stiles,” A grisly old pirate said, weasel eyes, a wrinkled Lorian face and small nose, making him look like an aging rodent. His long hair, more white than gray. “Thought ye were dead.”
“Ah,” Stiles replied recoiling, as if he’d seen the Kraken popping out of the sea again. “Roark Clark, cursed be the day. Had the same thought of ye.”
“How many lives left?” Roark asked him, not very pleased at the reunion.
“Lost a couple for certain,” Stiles replied backing away from the new group that had appeared. Seven, Jinx counted. This isn’t gonna work. Still… She turned to a gloomy and silent Soren, but someone touched her back.
“No,” Sen whispered. “I won’t take that risk.”
“Here I stand bedazzled at yer beauty milady of the plains,” Leo popped in with a prominent leer. Jinx’s eye twitched, half in the mind to put a bolt through his fancy hat. “Tis the right call this, if I may offer me promise to strengthen it more,” he stared at Jinx then and there was interest there, not wholly unexpected far as she was concerned. Whisper looked great in that tunic, but while she wasn’t in the mood, the pirate captain’s next offer made sense. “No harm shall come to you and yours milady of exotic origins,” Leo added and crossed his hands on his chest, adopting the stance of a snake-oil salesman.
“Do you trust him?” Jinx asked Stiles, out of the corner of her mouth.
“Eh, I don’t think Erlad had—” a one-eared pirate, with the narrow face of a killer, tilted his head and eyed him warningly. Stiles paused and cleared his throat, before continuing. “Seems a good deal, at this time.”
“We shall accept your terms, captain Vale,” Sen decided for her. “With the condition you take us to Eikenport.”
“Would there be profit for this ungodly detour?” Leo queried, thinking about it.
“There will be profit and you can have the ship,” Sen replied.
“Glen won’t like this,” Jinx warned her.
“I wager he rather sees us breathing, more than he’ll miss the ship,” Sen deadpanned and knowing how much the Cofol woman hated gambling, Jinx yielded to her argument.
“Mister Dranchen, kindly release the rudder to Mister Weiss,” Captain Vale asked, up on the quarterdeck. “Are ye the ranking officer perchance?”
“He’s dead,” the young sailor replied. “The carpenter is still breathing, but he’s injured.”
“Ah, jolly. Weiss is of a similar vocation. What about the rest of yer unfortunate crew?”
“Another four injured, no officers and the passengers.”
“Aye, there’s them of course,” Leo smacked his lips, hands clasped behind his back. “We might need the men’s help to sail the ship.”
“The men want to be released in Eikenport as well.”
“And they will, dear lad. Tis but a temporary employment!”
Right, Jinx thought and stepped away from the stairs looking for Soren, the scarred pirate standing behind the main mast barring her way. Jinx showed him her teeth in a snarl, but he didn’t seem particularly intimidated.
“What do ye want?” Jinx asked him, with a glare. The towering cutthroat, a bit long in the tooth as well, scowled. Whisper had seen that mean look someplace.
“Yer a Gish?” The man rustled, as if he’d swallowed a bucket of gravel.
“Is it the hair?” Jinx taunted. “I paint them, aye. And I’m short because my mother had no milk to spare. She had five of us to feed, someone had to make it wit water. So I never really grew to my full potential?”
“Me brother sailed wit one.” the man said, not bothering with her taunt and obvious lies. “Must be half a dozen years or so now.”
“Ah, well. Which port?”
“Eagleport.”
Hmm.
“Ye sure it was a Gish? We don’t much like sailing, despite what people think.”
The sea is full of horrors.
The aging pirate gave her a once over. Jinx wondered if her nipples were poking out of the thin tunic. The salt and breeze were doing a number on them.
“Used the wrong word. I meant journeying. More of a landlubber he is.”
Oh great. Abrakas gives, Jinx thought. Same time as he takes away.
Almost.
“What’s yer name old seadog?” She asked.
“Bristol Hook.”
“Aye, I knew Victor,” Jinx said and looked away. “For many years.”
Saw him crack a smile once in all that time.
“Captain was right to spare ye,” Hook’s brother said.
Jinx turned her head. “What was the alternative?”
“Nobody likes women on a ship, unless it’s their women.”
“Do you guys share?” Jinx taunted. “Just saying, since there’s not enough cunt around, for the demand.”
“People argued against it. They were motivated,” Hook said, not biting to her taunt again.
“You know him well?” Jinx queried.
“Sailed with h… with his father,” Hook frowned and looked away. “How did it happen?” He asked.
Bristol had caught her earlier undertone.
“He stayed back to help us cross a bridge. Tried to make it through, when the bridge collapsed, but didn’t manage it in time.”
“Died in water,” Hook smiled at that. “He never liked water.”
“Died a hero,” Jinx said and cleared her throat. “Saving us.”
“Can’t see how this makes it better,” Hook said tensely.
Jinx took a step back and stared in his sad eyes for a moment.
“I think you do, Mister Hook,” she told him. “I think you see and it does.”
Bristol Hook gave a nod with his head looking emotional, then grimaced and whispered, so only she could hear him.
“Change clothes, or stay inside Gish. Ye might be small, but ye’ll find that many think it’s plenty enticing just the same.”
Sen-Iv took her time to unlock her door.
“Yer fully clothed,” Jinx noticed, nodding to the two slave girls sitting on the bed.
“I thought it prudent,” Sen replied calmly.
Jinx removed her tunic, just pulled the flimsy cloth over her head, flashing everyone in the room and looked around for her pants.
“Iskay,” Sen ordered and the slave girl blinked and run to find her clothing.
“Does she always boss ye around?” Jinx asked her, while she snaked into her still wet leather pants. A leg on them badly mended, a memento from her scrap with the Cataphract.
Iskay blushed, but didn’t answer.
“Should we be worried?” Sen asked evenly and Jinx gave her a glance.
“Very. Put that desk behind the door.”
This wasn’t a jest.
Leo paused to let her pass through the narrow corridor, outside the captain’s cabin.
“Must admit, I found the tunic more agreeable, but can’t argue with the prudency,” he said with a toothy grin.
“I wear it on special occasions,” Jinx retorted, sneaking by him.
“Stormed by cutthroats being one o’ them?” Leo taunted, thinking he was pretty smart.
“And a Kraken after that,” Jinx deadpanned pausing to stare his way. Leo blinked and took a deep rugged breath.
“Yer serious.”
“Ye see me wear it, start praying,” Jinx warned him and he kind of blushed under all that paint. She stooped nearer and gave him a good sniff. “Yer drunk?”
And smell of cunt.
Wash yer clothes more my dude.
“Might’ve partaken to yer late captain’s liquor,” Leo admitted, backing away. “Are Gish like fairies?”
What kind of weird arse query is dis?
“What do ye think? Name’s Jinx by the way. Whisper is me other.”
Leo chuckled at that, then shook his head.
“Perhaps me should opt not to answer then,” he finally said. “Ye can have the first officer’s cabin for the night.”
“Thanks,” Jinx retorted. “I have a better spot in mind.”
Jinx reached the main yard, located at the midpoint of the main mast, the crow’s nest lookout being at the top yard above it and stopped there. The open sails flapping, the ship’s lights barely illuminating the deck underneath. Behind the ship’s stern, the fishing boat was following them towed by the larger Marquette. Leo had stripped the sails from the ‘Trout’ to repair whatever they could and just after the noon bell, they had started sailing west again.
The tired Gish closed her eyes, her feet and back hurting and let the night breeze lull her to a half-sleep for about a minute. Something metallic clanked over her head and she opened her eyes again to glare at the bottom of the crow’s nest.
“Who the fuck is there?”
“Gish?” Stiles asked, after a contemplating moment. “Are ye alone?”
“Nah, we have a party here, twenty people walking about on the fuckin’ plank!” Jinx hissed, unhappy at not being left alone.
“Keep yer darn voice down!” Stiles warned her.
“Yer hiding?” Jinx asked, a little perturbed, but at a lower tone.
“Nah, I ‘ave a blasted party by meself in the bloody dark!” Stiles hissed, throwing her words back at her.
Whisper smacked her lips, feeling a tad chastised.
“Fine. What’s the matter?”
“Ah, how about… pirates have taken over the ship?” Stiles said, the irony lost on him, and lowered himself on the mainyard, the sail making it dance under their feet.
“Friendly pirates,” Jinx corrected it for him. “Unlike the ones ye befriended.”
“Listen… Jinx,” Stiles said patiently. “There’re at least two killers down there. Not exactly pleased wit how this turned out,” he sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. He even lifted his eye-patch to wipe his eye under it, the wrinkled eyelid closed and deflated. “A nail took it,” Stiles explained, seeing her stare. “Vowed to be more careful after that.”
“Turned to piracy,” Jinx taunted. “Nothin’ safer than this.”
“Was one since the start,” Stiles hissed. “And yer not listening.”
“Leo seems fine.”
Stiles shook his head right and left, on the verge of despair.
“Sly Erlad was a vile man,” Stiles said reminiscing. “Joined his crew young, for a couple of years afore their untimely demise. Managed to get away, never regretted it,” he breathed once deep, let it all out. “He didn’t have a son, Jinx.”
“Three of Leo’s crew, served with his father. Checked it myself. They would know if he was an imposter, Stiles. They wouldn’t cover for him.”
“They would cover for Erlad’s daughter. He had ‘em sworn in blood, else it’s Abrakas Gullet for them,” Stiles hissed and stood with his back on the main mast.
“Hook is Victor’s brother,” Jinx pointed, not really believing his story.
“I know,” Stiles replied.
“Never said anything.”
“I was Glen’s slave, the lowest of the low, not exactly prudent to test whether the brothers were in touch. Ye think Glen would’ve stood up for me? Ye think Victor would’ve asked for his permission?”
He had half a point there.
“What did you do to Hook? This one,” Jinx asked.
“He thinks I ratted ‘em to the Admiralty, had Erlad hanged.”
“Did ye?”
Stiles glared at her. “Does it matter? Do ye think he’ll weigh the odds, or consider I might be innocent?”
“Ye said two killers,” Jinx noted, opting not to press him more. Stiles would have done anything to save his own neck. He might have done it again back in Altarin, for the same reason, but only Glen knew that.
“That Issir,” Stiles whispered. “Grim. I think he was in Van Fleet’s crew. Nastiest bunch in Burrow.”
“Leo seems cozy wit him,” Jinx said trying to remember, if she had talked to the Issir.
She hadn’t.
“I told ye why,” Stiles hissed.
That lad was a brawny specimen, with a lot of meat in all the right places.
“Right,” Jinx murmured, pushing the image away. “How certain are ye?”
“I ain’t certain. Could he have seeded a bastard? Sure. Plenty o’ them, in fact. It’s possible. But I do know, he talked about his daughter a lot.”
Jinx thought of Leo. She got nothing. Her mind too preoccupied and grieving to assess things clearly.
“They stole the ‘Trout’ from Burrow.”
“Aye, told ye that,” Stiles agreed. “His daughter worked a tavern there. Everyone knows her. Friends with the Attertons. I tried to tell on her—”
Hmm.
“Ye did, I remember that.”
“You can’t tell anyone,” Stiles warned. “Even if I’m wrong.”
“Why?”
“It’s a new command,” Stiles explained. “It might work out, or it won’t. Pray that it does.”
Not wanting to spend the night in Stiles’ company, Jinx climbed down again and reached the deck tired as a mule carrying rocks from a quarry for a living. She yawned and stumbled towards the cabins, the deck empty and poorly lit. Jinx paused a couple of meters from the stairs leading to the quarterdeck, Weiss manning it unseen from where she stood and stared at the silent black sea for a while.
The breeze blowing hot, but there was enough moisture around her, to not mind it. The Gish stared directly sough, as she was standing on the Marquette’s port side, towards the distant Sinking Isles. I’ve seen a Kraken today, she told her long lost mother and siblings. Used me only chance to save a friend that died shortly after. There was an ocean between them of course, behind all that blackness, but she squinted her eyes just the same to catch a glimpse that wasn’t there, a sense of nostalgia coming over her, the day’s losses weighing heavy on the young female. Jinx felt lonely and the silence of the sea wasn’t helping.
That is, Whisper was alone, until she wasn’t.
“Never had a Gish,” a man’s voice rustled in her ear, catching her by surprise. “Heard about yer kind aplenty, aye,” Jinx tried to turn, furious with herself for letting her guard down, but there was a pointy blade under her right ear, shaving towards her jawline and she froze.
“We are not that great,” Jinx said, sweat forming on her forehead.
“Beg to differ,” the man had a hand on her ponytail, pulled it back to better have access to her neck. A black hand. The Issir, she thought remembering Stiles’ warning. Is that bastard watching from above? Would he interfere? “I’ve seen ye in that dress. Ah, can’t think of anything else since then. Yer a cursed thing.”
“We can have fun,” Jinx croaked. “I’m very compliant and make the softest sounds.”
“Like me girls cold,” Grim admitted. “And dead quiet. I’ll have to reject yer proposal.”
Fuck.
“What did I say mister Grim?” Leo asked and Jinx, her hair pulled back and head tilted, watched him faltering down the stairs through blurring eyes, either a bad acting job, or riotously plastered. Seeing he carried a bottle of rum, freshly pilfered out of Captain Gray’s stock, obviously the latter. “The girls ‘ave reached an agreement wit the new management. Breakin’ it afore completion, would make for awfully bad press, won’t ye agree?”
“Ye made agreement wit the Cofol wench,” Grim replied, relaxing his grip on her hair. “Not this one captain. This one, we could share.”
Leo reached the bottom of the stairs, raised a finger asking for a moment and glugged down greedily from the bottle, blinking at the end of it. Stooping perilously on a foot, Leo placed it down carefully and then risen himself back up, to cross his arms on his chest.
“Please elaborate, Mister Grim,” he said in his drunken droll. “On yer suggestion.”
What the fuck? Jinx glared at him. Are ye fuckin’ kidding me?
“Ye take yer first, I help out,” Grim started with a leer and Leo nodded him along. “Or we can switch and I work on ye instead, have the Gish watch. I’ve seen yer lookin’. No one will know.”
Jinx blinked, but there was a sparkle in Leo’s eyes. Captain Vale sighed and looked at his expensive boots for a moment. Is that cocksucker seriously thinking about it? Whisper thought absolutely livid.
“Must admit, yer painting a stimulating picture here, ‘Jolly’ Grim,” Leo said with a smile. “See now though, if I go along wit it, someone would know, makin’ the whole scheme we ‘ave here, unattainable. For how is a captain to remain in charge of a ship, when a seadog has him grabbed literally by the whore’s pipe? Why, that seadog I’d venture would be running said ship. Savvy?”
Grim pushed her away from him, just as Leo unsheathed a fancy shortsword he carried on his belt. Jinx barely managed to keep herself from going over the rails and into Abrakas Gullet.
“Have ye ever used it captain?” Grim asked him and Leo looked up with a grin.
“Every day for the past… ahm, dozen years?” He grinned some more and sidestepped to get away from the stairs. “Commodore Atterton trained Rose on the long sword, the man being a squire at some point, or other, to a lord in Lesia. Now I favored the shortsword meself, but sometimes it’s not the size that matters, Mister Grim.”
Jinx frowned at the detail.
Everyone of note knows her. Friends’ wit the Attertons, Stiles had said.
“Ye’ll have Rose’s fate,” Grim spat and made to come at him, but Hook appeared behind the mast, just as he had with Jinx earlier and kicked him hard at the elbow. Grim growled and lost his blade, went to get the other, but Hook moving swiftly stopped him wrapping an arm at his neck from behind and touched the business end of a cutlass to his face, precisely at the right side of his nose. Grim froze in turn, like Jinx had earlier and Leo swaggered forward without hurrying to retrieve the other blade.
He tossed it away and used the empty hand to caress Grim’s chest, fingers running down on his chiseled stomach, Hook watching him with angry eyes. Leo nodded for him to release his hold and the aging pirate did, Grim sporting a smug smirk on his face.
“Mmm,” Leo murmured and Jinx slowly stood up from where she was watching them, eyeing each other, the moment tense. “Rose was my hero,” Leo whispered staring into Grim’s shocked face and stepping away, slashed savagely at his neck with the shortsword. The cut so deep and so precise, Grim’s head almost toppled back completely severed, the blood spraying over the wet deck-boards, the wooden rails and reaching the frothing sea.
Hook grabbed the flailing Issir, before he hit the deck, carried him a couple of feet murmuring under his breath and then slowly pushed him overboard, the splashing waves clearing the blood a couple of moments later. Leo waited for Hook to leave them alone, after a brief exchange and when the old pirate did, he stumbled to the rails and grabbed them with both hands shaking allover.
“Never done this afore?” Jinx asked, after she’d slowly approached him. The Gish was a bit rattled with the sudden turn of events as well, the surge of adrenalin snapping her back into the present. Her senses sharpened again.
“Ye can tell?” Leo asked her.
I can tell many things.
“Uhm, been in the life for a while now,” Whisper murmured eyeing his face. “Easier to think about things, different seeing them. Doing them, is a whole other matter.”
Leo gulped down and glanced at the bottle, he’d left near the stairs.
“How do you fight it?” He asked, his droll forgotten.
“Ye don’t,” Jinx swished, feeling her heartbeat increasing. Leo drew a deep breath in, struggled with it and let it out slowly. “Breathing helps,” she added.
Leo turned to look at her. Rich-emerald eyes, the charcoal paint making them more prominent in the deck’s dancing lights.
“Do Gish…” He tried to say anxiously, but Jinx approached him again like before, small nostrils sniffing, all a taunt as she already knew, sides of her lips curling in a wayward smile.
“Ye can ask,” Whisper Jinx whispered, a hand reaching for his shirt collar, to pull him down towards her face. “Or ye can find out.”
Leo blinked and then his lips found hers, teeth clinging before they adjusted, a tongue dancing inside, Jinx’s other hand snaking over his nape, to keep him steady. Leo groaned in her mouth and Jinx at last felt the woman’s taste on her tongue. Rum, spit and the scent of her arousal burning at her core and unable to keep it in, she started chuckling remembering Sen’s prophetic words.
“What?” Leo asked seeing her crying and smiling at the same time. “Was it that bad?”
“It depends,” Jinx retorted, just as Leo went at it again, teeth catching her lower lip and pulling it, a hand under her vest a little clumsy, but she could work on that. “How fast can ye climb the main mast?”
Leo Vale stood back surprised, her eyes misty and glanced up.
“Stiles is there,” she noted a little worried, but Jinx put a finger on her lips to stop her.
“Stiles knows, but he won’t talk,” Jinx reassured her, adding just to get it out of the way. “And I don’t mind a silent crowd.”
Gish are social like that.
