Chapter 23
Spencer knew the second he walked into the Ferret’s Mott that Mark was in a mood, and not just irritated or grumpy, but a real mood. The kind that radiated off him like a thunder storm about to happen. All gloom and the possibility of a headache.
Mark sat near the back of the pub, one boot propped against the chair opposite him, untouched drink in front of him, and an expression sharp enough to cut glass. The moment Spencer approached, his brother looked up and narrowed his eyes immediately.
“You smell like cliff air and bad decisions,” Mark said flatly.
Spencer sat down slowly. “Good afternoon to you too.”
“You found her.”
Not a question, but Spencer was also surprised that he knew already. Not even giving him a chance to explain. Spencer exhaled once through his nose, of course his brother had figured it out.
Mark had always been terrifyingly good at reading him.
“She admitted it,” Spencer said finally.
Mark went still, like statue still. His eyes had widened slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that news.
“You found the missing heir,” he repeated slowly. “And instead of immediately telling me, you vanished for two hours.”
Spencer leaned back slightly in his chair. “It wasn’t that simple.”
Mark barked out a laugh. “Oh, that’s always a bad sign.”
Around them, the pub carried on, mostly unaware. Locals chatted over drinks, someone argued passionately about crab fishing regulations near the fireplace, and Denzel the ghost parrot watched everything from atop the rafters with deeply suspicious interest.
Spencer rubbed a hand across his jaw. “She ran for a reason.”
Mark stared at him for a long moment, then swore viciously, earning him a bemused look from a couple of pirates. “You’re fucking up the job,” he grated through his teeth.
Several more nearby patrons glanced over briefly, and Mark ignored them.
Spencer’s jaw tightened slightly. “I’m assessing the situation.”
“No,” Mark snapped, leaning forward now, voice lowering dangerously, “you’re hesitating.”
Spencer held his gaze evenly. “And you’re not listening.”
“The job was simple.”
“It stopped being simple the second she explained what the clan actually planned to do with her.”
Mark scoffed. “She’s manipulating you.”
The words hit harder than Spencer expected, because some part of him had already asked himself the same question…
repeatedly… but every time he replayed that conversation in his mind, he knew the fear in Edith’s voice had sounded real.
As well as the absolute certainty she would rather die than go back.
That hadn’t felt false at all.
“She’s terrified,” Spencer said quietly.
Mark threw up his hands. “She’s the missing heir of a Dragon clan! Of course she’s dramatic.”
Spencer’s expression hardened. “She said they sold her.”
That silenced Mark for half a second but only half. “And?” Mark asked flatly.
Spencer stared at him. “And?”
Mark leaned back in his chair, frustrated now. “We don’t get involved,” he said finitely. “That’s the rule. We find people. We finish contracts. We survive.”
“She isn’t cargo Mark… we’ve never dealt in live cargo… you know that.”
“She’s a bounty.”
The words cracked between them like lightning. Spencer felt something ugly twist low in his chest. Because that right there was the problem. Mark only saw the job, and Spencer had started seeing Edith, and that distinction was becoming dangerous.
Mark scrubbed a hand through his hair roughly. “Do you have any idea what this payout means?” he demanded. “We’re done after this. Finished. No more hunting. No more running. We finally get a life.”
Spencer looked away briefly. Once again, his gaze taking him to the sea. “I know.”
“Then why are you acting like this?” Mark questioned.
Because she looked at him like he might save her, the thought arrived uninvited. Spencer crushed it instantly because that was the way that madness lay.
Instead, he said carefully, “Something about this feels wrong.”
Mark laughed harshly. “Everything feels wrong to you lately.”
Spencer didn’t answer, because maybe his brother wasn’t entirely wrong. Krakens Hole had gotten under his skin far too quickly. The town, the proximity to the sea and her, especially her.
Mark leaned forward again, voice lower now. “You’re getting attached.”
Spencer’s gaze snapped back to him immediately. “No… I’m not.”
“Spencer…”
“No.”
Mark studied him for a long moment. Then groaned loudly, dragging both hands down his face.
“Oh Gods,” he muttered. “It’s worse than I thought.”
Spencer scowled. “Nothing happened.”
“That is not reassuring.”
Before Spencer could respond and tell his brother to shut his mouth, a new voice slipped smoothly into the conversation.
“Interesting.”
Both twins turned instantly.
A male stood beside their table as if he’d always belonged there. Tall, long dark coat, and a relaxed posture, gold eyes gleaming unnaturally bright in the dim light of the pub.
Spencer’s eyed the stranger, his instincts telling him to be wary…
The stranger smiled faintly. “My apologies,” he said pleasantly. “It’s difficult not to overhear when someone starts shouting about ruined bounty jobs.”
Mark’s posture stiffened instantly. “Who the hell are you?”
The male pulled out the empty chair beside them without invitation and sat down smoothly.
“An interested party,” he replied. The stranger’s gaze settled on Spencer specifically, amusement flickering briefly across his face. “You found her quickly,” he observed.
Silence dropped like a stone, and Mark’s head turned slowly toward Spencer. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The gold-eyed male smiled wider. “Oh,” he said softly. “I think you do.” The stranger leaned back casually in his chair. “But perhaps,” he continued smoothly, “the more important question is whether your brother intends to keep the bounty once he catches her.”
This conversation wasn’t private anymore, and whatever game this stranger was playing, they had just become pieces on the board.