Chapter Fifteen
Nick watched through the porthole as a grey mound turned into a busy dock. Among the familiar sailor garb were men in leather armour patrolling the pier, swords strapped to their sides, watchful eyes taking everything in.
Kit entered the room. “We’re ready to transfer over.”
Between two buildings, a pair of guards stopped, facing a figure tucked away in the shadows. Nick just made out the flick of a thin tail. A kit.
“Transferring to what?” Nick squinted, trying to make out the exchange across the distance. The lash of the kit’s tail was unfriendly.
“Captain Hin has a ship moored here suited to the river.”
The two guards backed away from the kit and moved on. The kit watched them go, and Nick swore his attention fixed on their ship before he slipped away.
“You’d better not make the kids row –” Nick turned and cut off. There was a length of cloth in Kit’s hand. A wound rope in the crook of his elbow. Nick fixed an accusatory look on him, but Kit weathered it without a flinch, though his head tilted in apology.
Nick grumbled as he advanced, thrusting out his wrists for Kit to tie. “Can’t you leave my eyes uncovered? What difference does seeing make? I already know exactly where we are.”
“Orders,” Kit explained. But he tied the rope tight enough that Nick gave him another fixed look. Kit met his eyes. “If you run,” he said. “I am under strict orders to chase you.”
“There’s an entire crew of you. I wouldn’t exactly get far if I tried to escape.
” Nick had already worked out that his best bet was to simply jump into the ocean and swim along the coast. Nick was reasonably confident that with his family’s help, he’d be able to find Kit again if he escaped right that second.
Nick met Kit’s eyes. But he wasn’t confident he’d find him before he was punished for letting him get away.
Kit’s lips quirked up, an amused touch to his lips. “I do not believe that would hinder you from trying.”
Kit raised the blindfold, but Nick stepped back. Having his hands bound was one thing; having his senses stripped away was another. “I’m not wearing it.”
Kit hesitated, eyes flicking to the cloth. “I had it cut from one of my shirts. It’s silk.”
“I don’t care if it’s soft. I care about not being able to see where I’m putting my feet,” Nick growled.
“It’s light blue. You will still be able to see through it.”
“Then I might as well not wear it.”
“Nick,” Kit said in a pained voice, eyes sliding away from Nick’s face. He never could meet Nick’s eyes when he was knowingly mistreating him. “I was ordered. She said –” He cut off in a hard swallow.
“She said what?”
“I was ordered to blindfold you,” Kit deflected. “I am sorry, but I must.”
“She said what, exactly?”
Kit continued to look anywhere but at Nick. “I do not wish to harm you.”
“Tell me what she said, and you can put the blindfold on.”
Kit’s tail lashed. There was colour in his cheeks, anger in his pinched expression.
“She said to cover your eyes because they’re—what she said is obviously not true, you have the loveliest eyes of anyone on board.
I have never seen amber before in my life.
And yes, your gaze can be intense, but it is never nasty,” Kit said this with a scowl.
Nick blinked, staring in total surprise at Kit, whose tail continued to lash. His eyes found their way back to Nick’s, and the angry look softened to worry. “Do not take what she said to heart.”
“There’s no one whose opinion matters to me less than that woman’s,” Nick reassured.
“You can put that on.” He nodded to the silky blindfold.
“Thank you for the compliment.” Pleased embarrassment trickled through him.
Nick had never given much stock to his eye colour before, beyond how they differed from his family’s dark brown.
It was possibly the singular thing Nick liked about Connor when he first saw him.
Nick’s eyes were at least in the same family as Trevor’s and Laurence’s; Connor’s were stark grey.
Kit secured the blindfold. As promised, Nick could see reasonably well through the fabric.
A length of rope was attached to his bound arms, and Kit led him carefully above deck, warning of steps and corners that Nick could see perfectly fine.
His first step onto solid ground twisted his stomach.
Vertigo made him wobble, and Kit caught him by the elbow.
“It’ll pass,” he reassured. In a few steps, it did.
Crew members walked on either side of them carrying equipment and boxes, but sailors and dockworkers stopped to watch as Nick passed. It boded well that seeing someone tied and blindfolded raised eyebrows; at least it indicated that this world wasn’t totally barbaric.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” Anna caught up to them, breath short from running.
“Moving him over.”
“For all to see?” Anna hissed.
“I have orders.”
“You should have explained to her that if we transport him like this, then everyone is going to know exactly who took Vi’s student,” Anna growled. “We’re going to have that family on our doorstep if for no other reason than we stepped on their pride taking him!”
“I have orders,” Kit repeated.
Nick saw the cloud of Anna’s black fury through his blue silk blindfold as she stormed away.
Nick was brought into a boat sitting low in the water, then within it, to a room in the bowels of the ship. Metal chains hung from a beam in a shallow ceiling, wooden ribs jutted inwards from a curved wall, and damp puddles wet the floorboards. The only piece of furniture was a bucket.
Nick tensed.
“This is only temporary.” Kit cupped Nick’s elbows and turned him, standing close enough that Nick felt his warm breath fanning across his cheeks. “Once we set out, I will move you into my room, but I have to leave you here until then.” He untied Nick’s wrists.
“They’ll know who took me now.” Nick lowered his voice to match Kit’s.
“Likely word will spread.”
Nick reached out, catching Kit by the wrist. Kit startled, and so did Nick, realising he’d accidentally caught the strip of bare skin between glove and sleeve.
“Sorry.” He went to let him go, but Kit released a low, placating hum from his chest. Ochre musk reached Nick’s nose moments before Kit’s tongue swiped across his cheek.
Nick felt the relaxation in Kit’s body and loosened his grip. Kit’s wrist was warm and soft, a strong pulse moving beneath.
“You’re helping me.”
Kit continued to scent-mark along his jaw, tipping his head forwards to reach. The arm not in Nick’s grip slid around his waist, drawing his body in until they were flush chest to chest. He nuzzled Nick’s throat.
“Kit,” Nick growled, provoked, aroused. His breaths came heavy. He was hyper-aware of his skin, the way his clothes felt brushing against it, the tactile feel of Kit’s wrist in his hand. His tail was winding around Nick’s thigh, tightening and releasing in rhythmic pulses.
“I followed orders,” Kit murmured into the skin of his throat. His scent-marking, his licking, now felt like heated kisses. Nick’s pulse roared, his body responding with a rigid erection that Kit broke free of Nick’s grip to cup and, ever so slightly, squeeze.
“Captain,” a man called through the door.
A displeased rumble sounded through Kit. He broke away from Nick, flashing his teeth behind him. Nick forced his eyes open, breaths heavy with arousal. Interruption wasn’t enough to diffuse the heat pulsing through his body in heady throbs.
Kit was no better. His own reaction stood out in relief in his leather trousers, his face so flushed even his tanned skin couldn’t disguise it. His lips were parted, red and wet.
“What?” Kit asked, the word plain, the tone deadly.
Nick couldn’t see who was on the other side of the door, but he felt them shrink back. A throat was cleared. “There are matters on board. Sir.”
Kit’s tail slashed. “I am on my way,” he snapped. The footsteps tracked away. Kit turned back to Nick, body shaking in agitation. “Once we are on the water, I will move you from here.”
Nick struggled to regain his composure. “Right.”
Kit’s tail feathered against Nick’s hands, and then, with a displeased growl, he turned sharply on his heels and left.
Once Nick calmed down, he was irritated that he’d been left with the blindfold on.
It took an embarrassing amount of internal cursing before he realised he could just reach up and take it off.
Nick walked the length of his tiny cell, pressed his ear to the door, but eventually just sank to the wet ground and sat with his back to the wall.
He estimated it was at least five hours before they set off. He heard the swish and creak of oars in the water, felt the resistance of the water as manpower propelled the boat up the mouth of the river, going from salt to fresh water.
Kit reappeared, expression flat.
“You have the honour of joining Lady Desre for dinner,” he said.
His mind flashed to their first meeting.
To being held down flat on his back, and that intrusive touch grabbing between his legs.
Despite himself, he cast a wary eye on Kit.
He didn’t want to think there was to be a repeat, but he knew that would depend entirely on Desre.
Kit had trembled during that last encounter, and Nick understood now that it was because he’d been on the receiving end of her touch.
Except he hadn’t had a magical symbol that allowed him to resist.
Kit was a wall of tension as he led Nick onto the deck.
The river they travelled up was wide and slow moving, and the eerie shadows of tall trees lined the banks. Nick could easily make that swim, even if the current dragged him downriver a few hundred metres.