Chapter 28
Reva
Later that night, I’m wandering through the ship’s passageways like an errant ghost with nothing better to do. My nap from earlier royally messed up my sleep cycle, and even though my head and eyes ache with fatigue, falling asleep feels impossible.
It’s difficult to tell which of the sensations fighting for dominance are from missing Noush and which are from the fevered anticipation of finally knowing where Kit and Noush are.
Once again, I wound up spending my afternoon back in the med bay.
My head started pounding as one of the crew turned up with a busted hand and wound up staying for over an hour as he enthusiastically told me about all the truly filthy things he planned to do as soon as the curse was broken.
By the time we were done, I had another couple of crewmembers lined up and waiting.
Only one had anything wrong with them, while the rest wanted me to write key phrases down for them for the planned port stop in Newton Regis for once we get Kit back and the curse is broken.
It was pure smut. Pickup lines and compliments that they all seemed to think they could bandy about and have people flocking to them.
They were a good distraction. And their attitude left me feeling more buoyant, considering they all seem so certain that the end is in sight. They’re all fully convinced that we’ll reach Deadwood Cove in a day or so, and then life can move on.
So now here I am in the middle of the night with my hand aching from hours of carefully spelling filthy phrases, hoping a cup of tea might help to soothe everything else and let me get some sleep.
Considering the late hour, I’m expecting the kitchen to be empty at this time of night. But things are never fully quiet on the ship. There always seem to be people up and about and tonight is no exception.
There are lights on in the kitchen, and the kettle is already steaming as I freeze just beyond the doorway, spotting both Torin and Captain Finch sitting on opposite sides of the table. The captain’s stormy eyes meet mine and he gives a tired smile.
“All right, love. Trouble sleeping?” He murmurs. Once again, he’s not wearing his hat, and his tentacles give me a little wave of their own. They’re friendly little things, considering he spends so much time covering them up.
“Yep, thought I’d see if a cup of tea would help.”
“Well, sit down.” He gestures casually to the seat opposite him. “Torin’s just making some.”
Torin grunts, skirting around me with his powerful body almost brushing mine.
His big hand trails gently over my lower back as he gently nudges me toward the seat.
Plopping down, I shift Torin’s reading glasses out of the way and eye the pen and paper sitting beside an empty mug.
My brain’s been so skewed after how I spent my afternoon, I’m shocked to find actual plans and diagrams instead of smutty poems.
When I chuckle to myself, I’m aware of two sets of curious eyes on me.
“Something funny about our plans for Deadwood Cove, love?”
My eyes bulge out of my head as I realise that was exactly what I was chuckling over.
“Uh, no. I was just thinking that the crew have been using their paper stores for something very different.” At their bemused expressions, I quickly fill them in on how I spent my afternoon after leaving the captain’s office.
“Ah, they’ve got a competition going on who can do the best wooing with words,” Torin says. “Makes sense that they want to do it in the correct language.”
“They should have just asked to borrow some of the terrible poetry that Torin writes when he’s drunk,” Captain Finch replies.
“Hey,” Torin grumbles as he sets down three steaming mugs of tea while we both smirk up at him.
“You write poetry?”
“He steals and regurgitates bad poetry with a few terrible tweaks,” Finch clarifies.
One of his tentacles reaches out and plucks a bottle of whisky from his pocket, which he sets down in front of me. Another gently brushes the inner skin of my wrist, making me jump at the unexpected contact before he slaps it away.
“Mind of their own. Apologies.”
Torin huffs out a breath, taking a seat beside me and spreading his legs so his knee is resting against mine. His eyes focus on Finch’s tentacles, and he nudges the one that’s threatening to touch me again.
“All right, Handsy,” he says, then glances at me. “You think his other parts are touchy-feely now, you should see how they get after a few drinks. They’re everywhere.”
I snort. Gripping my mug and taking a sip of scalding tea, I quickly put it down and add a healthy dash of whisky from the bottle before trying again.
I still don’t know what to make of the captain. Despite being onboard for weeks now, I’ve barely seen him a handful of times, and the only things I know about him have been gleaned from other people.
“Did I interrupt something?” I ask, nudging the pile of papers and diagrams laid out between them.
“Just our insomniac’s club, back in session, like we are every night,” Captain Finch replies. “We’re planning our attack on Deadwood Cove.”
They’ve overlaid one diagram with what looks like layers and layers of red and orange colouring pencil, like a child’s been busy scribbling. I tap it with my fingernails.
“What happened here?”
“Well, our primary plan is for the four of us to get to the Cove. That’s step one,” Finch tells me. “Step two is where we split up. I still can’t stray too far from the ship, thanks to the curse, but Tor and I will do our level best to destroy the place while you find Kit and get him out safely.”
“Right.”
“And then we burn the place to the ground,” he adds. “These are flames, you see?” He taps the diagram with one of his tentacles, and I have a sudden insight into who was responsible for the drawing.
“Right... and that’s... it? We get there, find Kit, rescue Kit, destroy the place?”
“Exactly.”
I don’t exactly know what I was expecting, but it was a slightly more involved plan than that.
“And the sorceress? I’m assuming she’ll be trapped inside or something while the fire and destruction wreak havoc?”
Finch pauses, head cocking to one side at my bloodthirsty words. “Is that something you’d approve of?”
He leans forward and I see that he’s lost yet another button. I’m left with my eyes darting down to the stretch of bare skin and a tangle of necklaces resting against his chest before deliberately focusing my gaze on his face.
“That woman took my mate. Tortured the other for years and tried her best to destroy him and leave him as a husk of a person.” I clench my hands into fists on the tabletop. “Yeah, if there’s a burning stake we can attach her to, I’d like to be the one to set the fire.”
When I look at them both again, their reaction is... interesting. Finch is grinning widely, trying to high-five me with an overenthusiastic tentacle, while Torin looks something else entirely.
Feral.
Hungry.
His eyes glitter as he gazes at me intently, like he’s trying to peer into the deepest parts of me. “Well, then,” he rasps in a voice even deeper than usual. “That’s what we’ll do.”
I swallow hard, licking my dry lips as my heartbeat picks up. Torin leans closer, his thick thigh pressing harder against mine as he draws a line with his thumb over my cheekbone and along my jaw.
“But, you’re unwell,” the captain says, breaking the charged moment between me and Torin. His tone makes it sound like it’s a revelation to us both, even though my head’s been pounding for hours and I suspect that I must look like death warmed up right now.
I take another long swallow of tea before nodding. “I am.”
“I didn’t realise.” His brow furrows as he stares into my eyes, and I almost lose myself in two quicksilver pools. “What do you need? We could raid the med bay, and I’m almost certain Cookie won’t stab us for it; I am the ship’s captain, after all.”
I snort a laugh. “I suppose you’ve got to wield your captain power somehow. Aside from your choice of snazzy hats.”
“Exactly.” He leans toward me, and I notice he’s lost another couple of buttons. So does Torin, who reaches over as if to cover the captain’s chest. Protecting my delicate sensibilities once again.
“Perhaps if you’re not at your best, you shouldn’t be at the forefront of the action,” Finch says, making my smile dry right up.
“And how are the others going to find Kit if they can’t follow our mate bond?” The words come out sharply, but I don’t censor myself. Instead, I fold my arms over my chest, glaring at Captain Finch as I wait for him to respond.
He cocks his head to one side again in a move that’s reminiscent of his namesake, although the effect is ruined slightly by the tentacles waving about. They’re currently moving up and down rhythmically, almost like they’re trying to calm me down.
“The spectacles detect magic, don’t they? And I’m sure this sorceress will have surrounded herself with nothing else.”
I deflate slightly. He’s right.
Torin gently squeezes my thigh. “Is there anything that’s helped you feel better?
You said it’s grown worse the longer you’ve been apart from your skin, but what if it’s Kit you’re missing?
” His palm is red hot on my leg as he makes small circles with his thumb.
Heat travels through me in a wave, right the way up to my cheeks as I gaze from his hand up to his face and back again.
“You, er, touching me actually seems to help,” I say hoarsely. “I felt better at the library and then again when we were at the hotel, uh, getting ready.”
When both he and Aster kissed me, I mean.
He squeezes my thigh again, and I shift, squeezing my legs together as another wave of heat rolls through me. “Have you experimented to see what specifically seems to help? With Aster maybe?”
I shake my head, slightly mesmerised by the banked heat in his eyes when I meet them head on. “I haven’t experimented. Everything’s been such chaos, I just... haven’t.”
“Well then, maybe you should try it and see what helps.” Torin clears his throat, his thumb trailing over my lower lip. “So that you’re at your best when we reach land.”
Finch jumps to his feet, rattling the table slightly and gathering his notes and diagrams. “I think that’s my cue to leave. You might want to move things to somewhere more private if you don’t want Cookie coming at you with a meat thermometer.”
That seems to shake me and Torin out of the lustful haze we lost ourselves in for a moment. I’m warm and tingling all over, but oddly enough, my headache doesn’t seem so bad.
“Your colour is starting to come back to your cheeks,” he murmurs. “And Cap’s right. This is not the best place—”
“To experiment,” I add, my eyes locked onto his thick lower lip. When I dart a look around again, Captain Finch has gone. I get to my feet, holding out my hand. “Come on, then.”