Chapter Four
Nick tasted iron and breathed in musty, stagnant air.
His arms were pulled behind his back, wrists lashed together by something metal.
Splinters dug into his cheek as the floor swayed.
Nick opened his eyes to a dimly lit room with oddly shaped shadows.
Ropes? Crates? Barrels? Boots, attached to a lean, lithe man.
Kit sat hunched against a curved, concave wall, staring into his own shadowed hands. A lantern tied to the wall rocked from side to side, intermittently illuminating Kit’s lashing tail.
Nick’s stomach roiled.
Kit’s head snapped up at the first choke. He leapt into action, pulling Nick to his knees so that he could throw up without choking to death on his own vomit. Stomach acid burned Nick’s throat.
“You fucker,” he spat hoarsely. “What the hell do you want?”
Kit propped him upright against a barrel, away from the sick. The ground dipped heavily to one side, and Nick squeezed his eyes shut.
“Seasickness is only made worse by closing your eyes,” Kit cautioned.
Nick opened them just to glare. Kit was resettling into his spot beneath the swaying lantern. “What. Is. Going. On?”
Kit looked everywhere but at Nick in the cramped hold. “There is a job that needs to be done,” he said. “And you are going to do it.”
“Fuck yourself.”
Kit said nothing.
Nick gritted his teeth, adjusting his position to find a more comfortable position, but, unsurprisingly, comfort remained out of reach.
“Is this how kits get jobs done? They kidnap people?” Nick demanded.
His heart raced, his mind catching up with the situation.
And—Laurence. He’d been one door down. Did he hear the scuffle? Did he come out?
“We –”
“Did you take anyone else?” Nick cut him off, urgent. “Did you hurt anyone?”
Kit continued to avoid Nick’s gaze. Feeling awkward, repentant or guilty, Nick didn’t know. “I took only you,” Kit answered. “I knocked out the guard. I did not kill him,” he added, as if that was very important. As if Nick should congratulate him for his mercy.
It took several minutes to relax his clenched jaw muscles enough to speak. “Anyone else?”
Kit met his eyes when he said, “No.” And despite the fact that Nick had just been kidnapped by the man, so clearly there was nothing about him to be trusted, the word had a ring of truth to it.
He relaxed a minuscule amount, leaning away from Kit.
Laurence was safe. He could deal with everything else.
“What job?” Nick asked.
Kit looked away again quickly. “One you are suitable for.”
Nick cursed. “Why in God’s name do you think I’ll be suitable for it? We had one conversation! And fucking hell, if you think I’ll do a job for you after this shit, you’ve got another thing coming!”
“You will do it,” Kit said. His shoulders were slumped, as if he’d been defeated. “I advise that you do it willingly. You’ll be made to perform it regardless, and it will be less painful for you to comply from the start.”
“Unlock these.”
“No.”
“Unlock these and I’ll do your job.”
Kit’s tail lashed. “You are obviously lying.”
“Unlock these or I’ll get out of them myself, and I swear to God the first thing I’ll do is cut off your disgusting fucking rat’s tail,” Nick growled the threat, rage overcoming the part of his brain capable of thought.
Kit’s tail quivered. His back hunched up, and he flashed his teeth at Nick in a silent snarl.
Nick didn’t care that he was pissing off his captor; he wasn’t going to sit there and try to be friends with the asshole.
“If you don’t let me go, angry mermen will catch up to this ship and drown you and your entire crew.”
Kit’s snarl faded. “We will be clear of their territory by the time your absence is noticed. It was a late party with much wine. None will be up before noon. And I know that there are no lessons while Vi is hosting so many guests. You might not even be missed for days.”
Nick processed his words slowly, and the glimmer of a misunderstanding shone between them clearer than anything else in the dark room. “I’m not one of her students.”
“You will achieve nothing with such an obvious lie.”
“I’m a guest.”
Kit’s disbelief was written across his face. Nick recalled the interest Kit and his partner had taken in the symbols tattooed across his arms. “I can’t do magic. Or spells.”
There was a thump against the door. Kit rose to his feet and opened it to exchange words with whoever was on the other side. He then shut the door and approached Nick, stopping just in front of him. “We are transferring here.”
Nick didn’t budge, glaring up at Kit. Kit met his eyes, and his tail swung side to side in agitated sweeps.
“Fight me, and I’ll be forced to knock you out again,” Kit warned.
He grabbed Nick under his armpits and lifted him to his feet with ease.
They were the same height, Nick broader, Kit stronger.
Standing, the manacles seemed to weigh a tonne, pulling at agitated shoulder muscles.
Nick rolled them, and Kit’s eyes latched on to the movement.
“I apologise for the discomfort. I will remove them once we are aboard my ship,” Kit promised. “But not before.”
Kit clasped Nick by the shoulder and corralled him out ahead. Nick felt claustrophobic climbing uneven wooden steps with sides so narrow his shoulders only just fit. Kit passed through the same narrow passage with ease.
They emerged onto the deck of a small jetty.
Sailors moved around them, and Kit pushed Nick down a gangway leading to an empty pier on the edge of a city.
Nick turned away from the city, twisting in the opposite direction.
He spotted Vi’s estate across the bay, faint light from the stone pier glowing in the dark.
The sky had lightened, but the sun hadn’t yet breached the horizon line.
Had it been two hours, maybe three, since Nick had been grabbed?
Kit’s comment about the late night would probably prove true. Nick guessed it would be noon before his absence was noticed. But maybe that knocked-out guard would wake up and raise the alarm before then? If, that was, Kit wasn’t lying about what happened to the man.
Kit pushed Nick forwards, and they walked across the empty pier to where a small rowboat and a child waited. The child’s eyes brightened when he laid eyes on Kit, and intelligent eyes slid up and down Nick in an assessing manner.
Kit pulled Nick to a stop just before the boat. “Don’t try anything. Your hands are tied, and you’ll drown if you tip us over.”
There wasn’t a plank leading to the little boat, and Nick refused to step onto it. Which left Kit in an awkward position because if he just shoved Nick, he’d likely end up in the water or end up tipping the boat over.
Kit growled at him. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. I won’t endanger my crew because you’re dragging your feet.”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before kidnapping me.”
“Just smack him with your tail,” the child suggested. “Like you did with that sailor who stole the lantern oil.”
Kit’s tail lashed. He stared hard at Nick. “Don’t make me do this the hard way.” And though his eyes were gritty with determination, his voice softened. “Please.”
Nick glared. He’d dally here as long as he could. He wouldn’t go along with it because his abductor said please –
Heat seared Nick’s hip, and he yelped, stumbling.
Kit caught the motion, turning it into a controlled fall onto the rowboat.
Nick landed hard against his ribs, the vessel rocking beneath him.
Air hissed through his teeth as pain throbbed sharp and hot.
“I’m going to strangle you with that tail,” he spat.
He blinked back furious tears as he awkwardly manoeuvred himself into a sitting position.
Kit nimbly hopped on board, managing not to disturb the balance of the boat in the slightest. He sat, smoothly took both oars in hand, and they set off.
The child at his back hummed a greeting to Kit, the end of his tail swishing above the black water.
The child leaned forwards to peer curiously at Nick’s face, and he met the boy’s eyes. How mad was he allowed to be at a child who just got him hit?
“I would have struck you anyway,” Kit said, voice edged with worry. “Do not blame Mini.”
A tense silence fell on the rowboat as they passed between the shadows of moored, silent ships and ventured out into the open ocean.