Chapter 23
CHRISTOPHER
A harpoon sounds pretty fucking useful right about now.
Casting a glance up to the balcony, I can still see Fiona’s pointed edge sticking through the gaps in the railing. Vicious sharks tear apart seals and smaller sea creatures in the mural below, the engraving on the marble column a tragic comparison for the situation I find myself in.
“I don’t believe we’ve officially met.”
Pale lips peel back slowly, showcasing a set of teeth that ought to be stored in a museum somewhere.
“Marlin Seaborn, although I would have hoped you’d have that figured out by now.”
I watch him wander closer, his size growing with every step. By the time he comes to a stop in front of me, I have to crane my neck back to look at him.
I’m not small by any means, but this guy makes me look like a fucking doll.
“You’re the Sea Witch’s son.”
“So they tell me.”
He tilts his head, roaming those violet eyes over me.
I return the favour, studying and seizing up the man who is supposed to be six feet underground.
A custom-tailored suit presses against every sharp angle, the silky material of his dress shirt telling me everything I need to know about the Seaborn fortune.
A dark grey suit jacket pulls tight against his broad shoulders, the trim fit of his dress pants showcasing an athletic frame beneath the pressed material.
He reeks of power and privilege, and I’ve met enough rich kids to know when one deserves to be considered a threat.
Marlin Seaborn most certainly deserves that title.
As if reading my thoughts, Marlin smiles, his eyes glowing a shade brighter as a predator takes the place of a man.
“Do you know what I find interesting?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“Robbery is an artform, one of which you seem to have mastered.” He pauses, glancing down at the blood leaking from his grip, “And yet when it comes to robbing someone blind, it would seem the natural order does not fall in your favour.”
Drip. Drip. Drop.
I listen to the blood splatter across the ground, the fisherman’s eyeball nothing more than an ornamental decoration to Marlin’s fingers.
“Where’s my last crew member.”
“Inside.” A pause, another smile, “Finley Reef was an unexpected surprise to this evening. I will enjoy what happens next far more than if it were anyone else.”
Sweat beads on the back of my neck.
“You’re not going to let him go?”
“If it were up to me, he would already be in pieces waiting to feed my mother’s eels.” Marlin chuckles, soft and low, “Might even untie my little saint so she could come watch.”
Untie his little…?
“Look, mate. I don’t know what kind of religious freak show you’ve got going on but I want no part of it.” Taking a step back, I slip my hand inside my pocket, “Do whatever kinky shit you need to do but leave my crew alone.”
Amusement flickers across Marlin’s face, “You are inexplicably loyal to a man you know nothing about.”
“I know I’m the one who got him into this mess, so I’m going to get him out.”
“We were hoping you would say that.”
It takes a second for my brain to register the plural tense.
And another second for my night to go from bad to fucking terrible.
“Devil, are you being a bad boy again?”
The faint click of stilettos rings through the cold night air as blonde curls materialize next to Marlin. Painted talons glide over his suit jacket, the dark red colour a perfect match for the vicious curve of her lips.
There’s got to be folklore somewhere that cautions stray wolves from crossing paths with a dragon. The fire-breathing temptress who wears her scales like no other.
Calista catches my eye and smiles, a gorgeous fucking smile that makes me want to do something reckless.
“Didn’t I tell you bad boys get punished in this town?”
She did.
And for some stupid reason, I decided not to listen.