Chapter 12
TWELVE
“It’s nearly midnight, Nina. What are you waiting for?”
Max stood over a metal icebox on the deck, keeping eyes on the dock in case Maurice’s contact surprised us.
The canal was quiet and the port nearly empty, with only a few other lonely ships moored for the night.
The sole light came from the village beyond the inspection office, glowing against the night sky.
“I think I should run to the bathroom one more time—”
“You’ve pissed three times in the last hour. There’s nothing left inside you. Just get in the box!”
Hell, he was right. It was now or never, and I had to stop finding excuses to put off the inevitable. I slipped off my new jacket and handed it to him. “Keep her safe until we get back.”
His orange eyes thinned into slits. “Nina.”
“I’m going!”
Max held a finger to his lips and listened for anyone in close range. After a moment, his amber gaze settled back on me. He frowned.
I pressed a hand against my trembling heart. “Sorry, I’m sure my pulse is loud enough to cover anything useful.”
“I’m getting used to it,” he said, focus returning to the silhouette of the moored ships. “You sound like a fucking freight train, day and night. It’s a wonder your heart hasn’t exploded by now. Are you always so nervous?”
“I’m a nervous person, yes, and that’s not about to change in the next few hours.” I sat in the box and lowered myself flat on my back, taking one last, long breath of fresh air.
Max loomed over me, hand on the lid. “Try to relax, Nina. It’s going to be fine.”
It occurred to me that he was about to shut the lid, seal me inside an icebox like the catch of the day, ship me off into enemy hands, all while holding a bag full of my earnings. “This better not be a clever plan to get rid of me.”
He snorted. “You admit I’m clever now?”
“Technically, this was my idea.”
He licked his lips before sucking in a deep breath.
“Nina, I’m not trying to get rid of you.
I could have done that a long time ago and spared myself this trip.
No, I need your help to find this buyer.
So as long as you’re still breathing, as long as that hummingbird heart of yours is still beating, I’ll find you. Alright?”
“And I still hold one of your artifacts,” I reminded him.
He nodded once, eyes trailing over me, lingering at my hips, where I kept his dice. “I haven’t forgotten.”
I squirmed under his inspection, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “Why do you want to find this buyer so badly?”
A sharp whistle disturbed the quiet port. Without a word, Max slammed the lid shut. I heard two clicks as he locked the lid on both sides. My arms were crossed over my chest, the lid only an inch from the tip of my nose. I could barely move.
We’d found a mostly clean icebox near the trawler’s gallows, usually used for storing fish on ice.
Even after a good scrub, the metal enclosure still reeked with the scent of vinegar and sea salt.
Dried scales were molded against the sides, impossible to scrub away completely.
There was a cloying rot beneath it all, though I assumed it would make our deception more believable.
“I’m here if you need me.” His voice filled my head like an intrusive thought.
My breath slowed to an even pace as I adjusted to the closed space. “Just tell me what you see.”
An image appeared in my head, and I shut my eyes to focus on it.
It was the strangest feeling, like I was inside Max’s head.
Maurice walked precariously across the gangplank and boarded the Loralynn.
Oars splashed somewhere to the right, and Max’s vision turned and showed a small rowboat with three hooded figures inside.
I watched as they climbed onto the ship, noting the guns tucked into their belts and sheathed knives strapped to their thighs.
Whoever these men were, they were well armed and prepared for anything.
They hovered around the coffer.
“Is this the one we’ve been waiting for?” one of the figures spoke in a raspy voice. “It came from the Fissures?”
“Same place I always get them,” Maurice replied. “Does it matter?”
“There are requirements, so yes.”
“I don’t know about any requirements. I pick up the load, and I bring it to you. I’m nothing more than an artery between the both of you.” He crossed his arms, neither afraid nor concerned. Like they were negotiating over a worthless trinket instead of a dead body.
The hooded figure in the center of the group moved forward, nudging the box with his boot. I let my body relax, releasing any tension, and let all my weight settle in the narrow space while biting my tongue to stay quiet.
“You’ll get paid when it’s verified by our boss,” the voice hissed.
The captain grunted. “I’m aware of your process by now.” He spat on the deck. “I just want it gone. Right now.”
“We’ll take him off your hands, Captain. In the meantime, tell your contact to lay low for a bit.” The owner of the hooded voice snapped at the other two, who immediately went to either side of the coffer and lifted.
Our first step had been successful. I felt a rush of relief, but it was quickly smothered by fresh fear as they lowered my body into the rowboat. What if they dropped me while I was trapped in the box? My heart pounded so frantically, I worried they could hear it through the metal panel.
My connection to Max’s thoughts melted away, and I was left alone in my own head, in the dark, rocking side to side as the rest of the crew boarded the dinghy.
“You think he’s lying to us?” one of my smugglers asked.
Their voices were muffled, but I could still make out their conversation as another replied, “No. The donor probably didn’t even tell him that this was a special delivery.”
“We still owe him for the drop. Where the hell are we to get that kind of money? The financier hasn’t sent money in weeks, and we haven’t heard from Valveron since she showed up.”
“We don’t have to worry about that since we won’t be seeing him again.”
“Ah.” A pause festered. The sweep of oars in the still canal was the only sound for a few moments. “You don’t think he’ll snitch if we don’t pay him? We promised the donor thirty—”
“Don’t be stupid, Cal. Who are they going to report us to? The police? You think the donor will come looking when they don’t get paid? Give me a break.”
A snort came from the other end of the boat.
“Smugglers know what they’re getting into. If the money dries up, they just move on. Look at us, Dante. Why are we here? Money. The kind of money that would make a man turn on his own brother.”
“You’re here because you failed out at the Academy. Now shut your mouth, before you lose your place among us as well,” the one called Dante snapped.
“Easy.” Cal sighed. “All I’m saying is things are changing in the city. A new Governor, new jobs, new drugs…” His voice fell lower than a whisper.
Someone took the opportunity to whack him with an oar, rocking the little boat. I had to bite down a shriek as it tilted.
“How are you doing?” Max checked in.
“Fine for now. Where are you?”
“Not far. I don’t know if they have any Cursed in their crew. I don’t want to get too close and tip them off. The wind isn’t on our side tonight.”
“I guess I’m not so lucky after all.” I tried to keep my breathing slow, but the rhythm was beginning to burn my chest. Wherever this group was headed, I hoped they traveled quickly.
The air in the box was starting to turn stale and damp.
“They mentioned Valveron and a financier. They get their money from somewhere in the city. It sounds like that’s where the buyer is operating.
But then why would they send the bodies here? ”
Max went quiet. The men in the boat were also silent, sharing no further information. Cal, I assumed, was still nursing the blow to his head.
“They’re bringing you to a houseboat.” He showed me an image of it, using the connection between us.
He wasn’t far, as he’d promised. Just beyond the banks of the canal, where the tree line began.
The Main Canal started to bend in the distance, and in the curve of the waterway, the houseboat he’d mentioned was anchored in the steady current.
The houseboat was a large, double-storied vessel, with windows that glowed gold from the light inside.
From where Max hid along the banks of the canal, I couldn’t see anyone on the porch lining the sides or the front, nor a flicker of movement behind the windows.
At the back, there was a large paddle wheel.
I’d never seen one before, but I’d heard rumors of smugglers using them to operate beyond city lines. There was less regulation on the canals and the river, and that made it easier to transport alcohol and drugs.
“Max…” I reached for him, uncertain why. I had to stay and finish what we’d started. If I blew my cover now, we’d walk away just as lost as before. The air in the box was thinning, and my pulse felt like a hammer—
“I’ve got you, Nina. You’ve done so well. Just a little longer.”
“What if they decide to open the box?”
“Your only job is to listen and find out where they’re taking you. Find the buyer. Keeping you safe is my responsibility. One I take very seriously.”
My anxious heart fluttered. “Does this mean I’m growing on you, Outsider?”
“Are we back to that? I could have sworn you had better labels for me. Monster, perhaps? Arrogant Bastard was a good one, too.”
I tried to hide the little gasp of air I claimed, covering my fingers over my mouth. The air in the box had already gone stale. “I shouldn’t have called you that. You’re not a monster, Max. Or a bastard.”
“No, Nina. Every name you’ve ever called me is true. And I really am a bastard. You were spot-on there.” A bitter laugh bridged his words. “Just focus. Don’t get sweet on me now.”
“You mean in case I die—”
“You are not going to die. Not while I’m here.”
I didn’t respond, but it wasn’t necessary. I was sure he heard the slowing of my pulse and how the intrusive thoughts clouding my head began to clear. Even if it was all a lie, even if he intended to learn what he could from me and leave me here to die, I held his words like a sacred vow.
For a brief moment, I wasn’t worried about what would happen to me in the next minute.
“Grab the rope, Cal.”
The command was met with silence.
“Calvin…” Dante drawled out his name.
“Get it yourself.”
He sighed. “Fine, you little prick. If that’s how it’s going to be—”
“What the hells are you three doing out here?”
I jolted at the sound of the new voice. Because I knew it. I’d found her. All I wanted now was to burst from the coffer and tear her apart.
“Bria.” Dante startled. “We were just—”
“Just get the load on board before someone sees you. Fuck, Dante. This wasn’t part of the schedule.”
The boat teetered as the three of them awkwardly lifted my coffer up and placed it on a solid surface—the deck of the houseboat. A golden glow filtered through the seams of the box.
“Tell me that isn’t…” Bria started, finishing with a frustrated breath. “I told you, no more bodies!”
“The captain said it was for us. Figured one more wouldn’t hurt before we closed off the Fissures route for good. It’s not like we’ll have to pay.”
“I don’t care about payment,” Bria snarled, taking several quick breaths. “This isn’t right. I told you, our last load was the final piece the buyer needed. How do we have another body?”
“Max, they know something’s up. She’s the one who took my mother.”
“I’m coming—”
“Wait!” I screamed the word in my head.
My mother must be here. On the boat. If Bria took her, then we’d done it. We found her. I just needed more—
Bria spoke again. “I told you we were done. The old woman was the one the buyer demanded. Whoever this is”—she paused—“they’re not necessary.” Someone kicked my box. Bria spoke again. “We have no use for broken bloodlines anymore.”
“What should we do with it, then?” Cal asked.
My heart thumped several times before she made up her mind. “Toss it overboard. Get rid of it. No one will ever know.”
The men hesitated for a beat, just long enough for my hope to rise and fall with my breath, before they moved in sync. Boots scraped the deck. The metal box jolted, tilting sideways before unsteadied hands righted the angle on the other side.
“Max!”
One grunted with effort, another muttered a curse over their wasted time. The canal beyond the walls of the box rushed closer. Max had fled my thoughts, and I was alone in my head, drowning in a cold fear before I even touched the water. They swung once for momentum.
I sent a fist against the top of the box, but it was locked tight from the outside. I was stuck until someone let me out, and yet my captors believed me already dead.
“Wait!” My voice filled the box, sealed behind the seams of this enclosure. Another heave, and I was airborne, tossed into the frigid and black rolling tide.
Water surrounded the box, swallowing the sounds of the night with a deafening embrace. I took a long suck of air as the box hit the water. The warm glow of the houseboat lights smeared into darkness as I sank to the bottom of the canal.