Chapter 29 The Cork Toss #2
“I didn’t see anything happen,” Calla said with a mocking raise of her eyebrows. She looked pointedly at the rest of the crew. “Did any of you?”
“Hmph.” Thorian’s frown morphed to a chastised grin. “Touché.”
Riley approached the bar, a little sheepish as the others went back to chatting amongst themselves with quiet huffs of disappointment. This time she sat on the stool properly as she fished the cork out of her cup. “Another cup for the charming stranger sitting next to me,” she asked Thorian.
He blinked at her. She stared right back. He’d needled her first. Then, with a disbelieving scoff, he poured Calla a drink, then topped Riley’s off for good measure. He moved on to his next victim with a wink, which nearly startled Riley into dropping her hard-earned prize into her lap.
“Charming stranger, you said?”
Calla’s voice was low, velvet-edged. Riley almost forgot to breathe.
Almost.
She leaned her elbow against the counter and offered her hand, along with her most charming grin. “How about we change the stranger part? I’m Riley,” she said.
Before this moment, Calla’s amusement had been lingering on her lips, but it hadn’t reached her eyes. It did now, as her hand slid into Riley’s. Her touch felt like a whisper of silk against her skin.
“And just so you know, I could’ve totally made that shot. My fingers are very skilled.” Riley smirked, taking a sip of her drink.
She braced for another throatful of paint thinner, but the liquid rolled warm and sweet over her tongue.
Caramel, oak, and a hint of smoke. The burn came slow, curling comfortably in her chest rather than scrubbing her raw.
A surprised hum of delight rose from her throat.
Shit. She’d had a lot of rum in her life, but never anything like this.
The bottle was worth far more than a cork toss.
Calla’s gaze grew hungry, and Riley didn’t know if it was her bold flirting or the sound she’d just let escape, but it made her stomach flip. It made her feel bolder. It made her–not forget, maybe, but brush aside, for this one moment, how shit today had been.
“This is very forward of you,” Calla observed, a playful smile on her lips. “We’ve only just met.”
“Oh, right.” Riley grinned. She leaned in closer, letting her fingertips brush Calla’s hand on her cup.
“How thoughtless of me,” she murmured, stroking those smooth fingers in a slow, suggestive motion.
At the hitch in Calla’s breath, Riley withdrew with a smirk.
Took another sip. “What’s your name, beautiful? ”
Riley tracked the movement of Calla’s throat as she swallowed.
The warmth of the alcohol was already spreading, and she let herself wonder what it would be like if they were alone right now.
Perhaps they could pick one of those empty houses later.
Find solace in each other, just for tonight.
She wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, not with the worry for Sable churning in her gut.
“It’s captain for you,” Calla said, her voice thick with restrained want.
Riley pretended to look impressed. It didn’t take much pretending.
“Ooh, that’s fancy,” she said. She leaned over, reaching to brush Calla’s hair behind her finned ear.
It flicked softly against her finger, and she didn’t miss the minute shiver her light touch provoked.
It was dumb she’d stopped herself from touching Calla before.
The Heart’s marks clearly didn’t affect anyone of importance.
Haddock could go hang. “And what’s a captain like you doing around these parts? ”
Calla licked her lips, glancing at Riley’s mouth. “Steering right into trouble, it seems like.”
Riley grinned, bumping her knee against Calla’s. “Maybe that trouble is worth it.”
Calla glanced down as Riley’s hand slipped to her thigh, then she quirked an eyebrow at the rest of the tavern full of pirates. “It seems that trouble might’ve had too much to drink.”
Riley laughed and retrieved her hand with a small squeeze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve only just started.” Her cup wasn’t even empty yet, though she did feel light-headed.
Calla’s expression turned searching, though, and Riley stiffened. She replayed what she’d just said in her head, but it was innocent enough, wasn’t it? Surely that didn’t give her away. And yet Calla’s study was so intense Riley could not hold her gaze for more than a few beats. She looked away.
Then she saw it. What she’d been looking to trigger. At Calla’s back.
People.
Not crew. Their clothes were different. Roughspun tunics, mud-caked boots, hands calloused and raw–villagers.
They were raiding the tavern, packing, and dragging heavy bags outside where their horses were waiting.
Preparing to leave. By the somber looks on their faces, Riley didn’t think they were expecting to come back.
One woman lingered, though, and stepped on a stool to hang a charm above the doors, murmuring something.
The wind whistled by just at that moment, and Riley felt it against her skin, cooling her heated cheeks.
A hand gripped hers, and a second gripped her chin.
Riley startled as Calla’s intense blue eyes pierced hers.
That look knocked her breath out of her lungs, and yet Riley was flooded with relief.
It was working. Her visions were back. Now just to find a way to make them useful, like Neera’s vision had been–
“What were you looking at just now?” Calla demanded.
Riley’s blood ran cold. Shit. “I, uh…” She blinked, and she tried to move her head to peer past Calla’s shoulder, see what or who was really there, but the grip on her chin was implacable.
“Riley,” Calla ground out, voice tight. “What were you looking at?”
Riley swallowed. She considered lying, but she’d been trying so hard to do better.
For Sable. For Calla. The choices she made from now on–she had to own them.
“The people from before,” she said in a breath.
“They left willingly. They didn’t expect to come back, but they hoped they would, and I think they prayed to–something to keep their homes standing for them. ”
A muscle ticked in Calla’s jaw. “And,” Calla started, every word carefully spelled out and even. “Why did you see that?”
Even if she wanted to, Riley couldn’t lie when being looked at like this. “I stopped taking the medicine,” she said, a quiet breath between them.
Calla’s hand dropped from her chin. “Take it now.”
Riley drew back. “What?”
“The medicine. You have it on you?”
Riley nodded slowly, shifting in her seat.
“Then take it. Now.”
Riley frowned. “No.”
Calla pressed her lips tight. Her back straightened. She was shrugging her captain cloak on. But it didn’t matter. Now that her plan started working, she wouldn’t throw it all to the wind. Not until she got something useful.
“That is an order, Riley. Take the medicine.”
Her tone didn’t invite disobedience. Riley bristled at it.
The heat of the alcohol, of the moment they’d shared before, morphed into the familiar flush of anger.
Face carefully blank, Riley picked through her bag until she came upon the glass vial.
Looking Calla square in the eye, she held it out, her heart pounding against her ribs hard enough to bruise.
She ground her teeth against the feeling and used it to feed her resolve.
“Aren’t you at least going to ask why I stopped taking it?”
Calla’s jaw clenched. “I don’t need to know why. Whatever it is you’re thinking, it’s something reckless, and you won’t do it if I have anything to say about it.”
Riley smirked, a humorless tilt of her lips. “Too bad you don’t, then.”
She let the vial drop. It landed between their chairs. Before Calla could react, Riley stomped her foot down and crunched the glass beneath her boot.
She tilted her head to the side. “Oops,” she said dryly.
All hints of Calla’s feelings bled from her face then, except the way her one exposed ear pinned itself flat against her head.
The temperature in the room dropped with the icy look in her eyes, and Riley knew then, Calla was pissed.
Her cocky attitude all but vanished into thin air.
Riley was in the right, she knew, but maybe she’d gone a little bit too far to prove her point–
“All of you. Out.”