The Dead Page 15

  “And I told you I wasn’t,” I replied before I proceeded to ignore him and focus on Dax. “I need a word with you in private.”

  “It’s a little chilly out. Should I grab a jacket?” He delivered his question with the innocence of a babe.

  It wasn’t chilly out at all. The misplaced humor didn’t find a home with me, but a blush found its way to my cheeks. “In our cabin,” I snapped.

  “Our cabin,” Marty mimicked, and then rolled his eyes as if his point was made.

  “You!” I pointed at Marty. “Shut up or I start singing.”

  His mouth snapped shut.

  I took off down the passageway and heard Dax following not too far behind as I walked into what used to be my cabin.

  “What are you telling everyone?” I asked as soon as the door shut behind him.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ll have to be more precise.” He leaned a hip against some shelving and continued to eat his eggs.

  “Are you telling them we’re together or something?”

  “No.” He continued to eat, unbothered by the notion.

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “Dal, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Why are they all scared of me?” And why was I near screaming while he was relaxed and eating?

  “I don’t know, but that’s a good thing.”

  “No, it’s not because you’re the reason. I want them to be scared of me because of me. Because I’m scary.” I stabbed my chest with my finger.

  “There’s nothing I can do if you didn’t scare them enough on your own.” He continued to eat, but I would’ve sworn he was laughing on the inside.

  “I was scaring them.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “You,” I said, turning my pointing on him. “You came along and you’re taking over again and handling everything, and I need to do this on my own.”

  “I haven’t taken over. I’ve helped out where needed. Some people, ones of maybe a saner variety, might even be grateful for it.” He was still calm, while I felt as if I were wrapped inside a tornado.

  I let out an awkward groan as I dragged both hands through my hair. “I don’t want you to help me. I need to do stuff all on my own. Don’t you understand that?”

  I stormed up on the deck and away from the stubborn bastard. Unfortunately, he followed right behind me, and I thought perhaps my storm might have finally touched his calm.

  I was halfway across the deck when I heard him calling, “Honey, why are you doing this?” It was the sweetest voice I’d ever heard escape his lips. “I just wanted a little morning romance. Don’t be mad.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said, watching how every single pirate there was listening, and not being polite enough to even pretend they weren’t.

  “Oh baby, don’t be like that,” Dax said, making it look like we’d had a lover’s quarrel.

  I put my hands up, warding him off as he approached, and heard muffled laughter as he pursued me across the deck. He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my neck in front of the whole crew.

  My hands on his shoulders, he leaned in by my ear. “Now this would be considered me trying to take over.”

  He gave me an extra squeeze before letting me go and walking away.

  22

  It was after midnight, if I read the moon’s position correctly. I found a nice little place to perch, in between the latest crates to arrive with Jacob’s booty. The breeze washed over me and I took in the stars. Feet up on the rail, I could almost pretend I was completely alone in the universe, and right now, alone felt perfect.

  I could get used to this life. First time I’d ever seen one of these ships I’d been terrified to get on it, but the place really grew on you. And space. I’d never seen so much wide-open space as the ocean.

  Maybe not so alone. I leaned my head back and tried to pretend I didn’t hear the faint sound of chimes. Or maybe, even though we were miles from shore, someone had hung up a wind chime somewhere? I searched the horizon for the golden mist that helped give the Wood Mist their name. It wasn’t visible, but that didn’t mean shit when it came to them.

  “I know you bastards are watching me. If you’re not going to go away, you might as well show yourselves and spit it out already.”

  I sat forward, glad I had a knife on me while I waited for some shimmer. Nothing showed, and the chimes were still muted, but joined by a scratching noise coming from the crate I was sitting on.

  Beside my leg, letters started to form, as if the wood was carved by some invisible tool. The shape of a B appeared with agonizing slowness. I looked around, knowing it was them, but where were they? Why didn’t they just talk like normal? They had a voice.

  Then again, I’d only ever seen them in the forest. Before coming to the Wilds, I’d never heard of such a thing as the Wood Mist, but maybe they didn’t like the cities.

  If they were connected to the forest somehow, what did most vegetation hate? Salt. There was a reason the saying “salting the earth” had come to be.

  “Ahhh, we’re too far out to sea for you guys, huh? Maybe not a fan of all this salt water? Reduced to carving?” I leaned back and relaxed again. “Sucks to not have all the power, doesn’t it?” I shouldn’t have giggled. I’d be on land again soon, and it was nearly impossible to avoid forests. Then I laughed anyway, because that was the kind of piss on your shoes mood I was in.

  The carving stopped. I guessed the Wood Mist got a little sensitive when you pointed out their shortcomings.

  “We both know you deserve a little ribbing, so don’t get all touchy now. Might as well spit it out, since you’re so intent on talking.”

  I closed my eyes, listening to the waves hitting the boat when I heard the carving start back up. Whatever they wanted to say, they weren’t giving up that easy. I looked down and had three letters now.

  B U R

  “What’s this? If you’re trying to tell me something, I need a little more.”

  A couple minutes later, an I was carved, then an E and a D.

  “Buried? That seems like a lot of work to write something that doesn’t make sense.” What did that mean? I’d done a lot of burying in the past month, but I couldn’t see how any of those deaths had anything to do with them. “You trying to say I shouldn’t hold a grudge because it’s done and buried?”

  I looked around, searching for a hint of shimmer in the night sky. “Am I supposed to let it go that you tried to kill me? If I remember correctly, you weren’t overly concerned about burying the hatchet with me. If I’m alive, it’s by my own doing, and I do hold a grudge. I’m one of those people.” I’d never understood the concept of forgive and forget. Someone screws you over, there’s no forgetting that.

  There was no reply, and I didn’t particularly care. I wanted to be alone, and that included company from creatures of the wood. It wasn’t as if I could go to my cabin alone anymore, because the person who was messing with my head the worst was currently occupying the space.

  Damn him. I’d been so miserable when he was gone, and now that he was with me again, I wasn’t sure I felt any better. I didn’t know how to fix what was wrong with me where he was concerned, or how to get rid of the anxious feelings. The whole thing was bizarre. The nightmares weren’t the only thing messing with my sleep.

  And every time I saw him getting dressed, which was nearly daily because he had absolutely no modesty whatsoever, I kept thinking of the sexy books I’d read with the half-naked guys on the cover. It was probably only because he was half-naked too, but still. The man needed to get some modesty. Meanwhile, I was changing buried under the flimsy blanket, which was a near disaster most times.

  Stupid sexy books. I didn’t know why I’d ever read them. Or why I kept rereading the one I had. They were stupid books. The women in them always fell madly in love with some guy who made them crazy. Then the worst part was that all they wanted to do was have sex. It was all th
ey thought about.

  No wonder I was having problems. Those books had burned sex into my brain. I wasn’t in love like they were, though. It was that book. And reading that book over and over again when I’d been sitting in that cabin alone had only made it worse.

  I looked around, making sure I was still alone before I talked to Bookie. “You were right. The dragon books were much more worthy of their spot on the bike that day.”

  I could see Bookie in my mind, nodding as he agreed with me.

  “Well, you should’ve stopped me.”

  Who could ever stop you? By the way, weren’t you the one that tried to sleep with Dax?

  Imaginary Bookie was getting to be a wise-ass.

  Yeah, I’d thought of sleeping with Dax, but it was purely a business arrangement that would’ve satisfied my curiosity at the same time. It was a good thing I hadn’t. Dax already made me crazy because he was bossy and controlling and always thought he was right. Who knows how bad it might’ve gotten if I’d slept with him.

  My senses were already heightened around him because of that crazy magic he had. And it was potent stuff. Lately, it was making me think all sorts of crazy thoughts. Even back at the Rock, it had started to get to me and made me funny in the head.

  Come to think of it, maybe I was better off taking my chances with a spare hammock and the potential rapists. Or maybe I should sleep on deck.

  I was still mulling over where I should sleep when I heard Dax come aboveboard. He didn’t come over to me but walked to the railing. Didn’t matter. I knew he was checking up on me.

  I’d never had anyone do that before. It was awkward and smothering. But when he was gone, I’d missed it in spite of myself.

  I watched him, and for once, he looked almost as conflicted as I was.

  His body turned to me as he rested his hips on the railing as only someone who could swim would. It was hard to make out his features now with the moonlight at his back.

  “When you were at the Cement Giant, did you have any friends before Margo, Cindy, and Patty?”

  My body immediately jerked back at the question that came out of nowhere. “How is that any of your business?” I asked. Just when I started softening, he seemed to poke me right in my sore spots.

  “Just answer.”

  “No.”

  “Because you had none?”

  He’d backed me into a corner. If I said nothing, he’d think I didn’t, and for some reason the idea of him thinking everyone had always hated me was worse than facing what had happened. “Yes. I did.”

  He nodded as if he’d already assumed as much.

  “What happened to them?”

  “I’m not in the mood for an interrogation.” Not about that, not right now. I didn’t want to talk about other Plaguers and the horrible rumors of how they’d ended. It was hard enough dealing with the bad endings I knew of for certain.

  “And I wasn’t in the mood to chase you down for weeks. Now answer my questions.”

  I didn’t need to see his face. The set of his shoulders silhouetted by the moon alone told me he was digging in. If I said nothing, this would escalate into another fight. As mad as I got at him, as much as he was getting under my skin lately, I didn’t want to fight with him. We’d just gotten to a place that wasn’t ugly. I didn’t want to take a step back to where we had just been.

  The bickering we used to do before I’d left had been more of a sport, putting my wits up against his and seeing who could poke the hardest. What happened between us since he’d shown up was rubbing me raw. I didn’t have any more room for pain. I was all stocked up.

  “What happened to them?” He crossed his arms and relaxed his frame against the side of the boat. “I know they were already gone. They weren’t on your list when you went back to the Cement Giant.”

  “I can’t tell you what happened to them. They disappeared. One day they were there and then they were gone. All I’ve got for explanation is rumors.”

  “That happened a lot to you. People disappearing.”

  I shot to my feet, hating that he’d driven me to running, but I couldn’t take this. Not so soon after Bookie.

  He stepped forward, blocking my way.

  “Sit.”

  “Fuck you. I’m not going to sit so I can listen to you tell me how everyone around me disappears. I already know it. I live it.”

  “Just sit.”

  When I didn’t listen but moved to get around him, he said, “I only want to talk for a couple minutes.”

  With him blocking my way, I didn’t have much choice but to do as he said, or drown. The water didn’t look so bad, but I was pretty sure I’d change my mind after a couple mouthfuls of it. I wasn’t miserable enough to kill myself. I’d never be that miserable.

  I went back to my perch, wondering if he was going to drive me to throw myself into the ocean soon anyway, to hell with a lungful of salt water.

  Dax sat beside me, his arm grazing mine as I tried to ignore him and watch the moon’s reflection flickering in the waves. For all the times I’d thought of him when I’d been here alone, I stared straight ahead, hoping he’d just say what it was and leave me alone.

  I watched him out of the corner of my eye, waiting for the next strike to come and knowing that this was why it was better to be on my own. Togetherness was an illusion for the weak. From the second we’re born, we’re alone, and maybe that’s how it should be. All people did was hurt you, even when they didn’t mean to.

  A low sigh escaped his lips, which was so un-Dax-like it caught me off guard a bit.

  “You’re scared,” he said.

  “I’m not scared of anything.” What was there for me to be scared about? I didn’t need anyone and I’d slay a roomful of Dark Walkers without batting an eye. “As far as I know, mind reading isn’t on the list of your abilities, so don’t tell me I’m scared.”

  “Yeah, you are. The funniest part about it is, most people are scared to be alone. You seem to have the opposite affliction.”

  “Like I said, I’m not scared of anything.” I wasn’t, and I didn’t bother explaining the benefits of being unencumbered, not when he was obviously looking to argue. He thought he knew everything. I wanted to be alone because it was the best thing to be.

  He leaned back and propped his foot up on a nearby crate as he reclined next to me. “I look exactly the same as I did on my thirtieth birthday.”

  My head jerked toward him as a little shock went through me, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he wasn’t aging anymore. I’d figured that out a while ago. But why was he telling me? Dax didn’t tell anyone anything. From what I’d gathered, I didn’t think even Becca—a woman he had been sleeping with—had known his secrets. First he attacked me and now we were sharing? Was he one of those schizophrenics Bookie had talked about?

  I didn’t know whether to talk or say nothing. If I talked, maybe he wouldn’t continue, and I really wanted to hear this. If I didn’t speak, maybe he’d think I was uninterested, which I was anything but. I gave him a minute, hoping that his words would kick back in and I wouldn’t be forced to risk it either way.

  “I’ve never been sick. I can walk through a crowd of people, all in the throes of dying from the Bloody Death, and not so much as sneeze the next day.”

  I stayed unusually still, afraid the slightest movement would jar him into realizing he was telling me way too many of his guarded secrets. I did try to smell the air for whiskey, wondering if he’d gone on a drinking binge. But his voice was clear and I didn’t notice any scent of booze lingering.

  “I’m exceptionally hard to kill because I heal quicker than a human can, and my skin and muscles are tougher than tree bark.”

  Hmmm, had he actually tested his skin against the strength of tree bark? I knew he was densely built. I guessed that could make sense.

  When he remained quiet for a while, I figured I wasn’t risking much in asking my questions now. Of all the things I’d thought I wanted to know, there was one
burning the strongest. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

  “Because I want you to understand.” His eyes met mine, a determination in them that was just shy of overwhelming.

  There was no guard, no glacier. Right now, maybe for the first time in all the time I’d known him, he seemed completely open to me. Even his energy seemed different, still throwing off that same buzz, possibly stronger, but this time not setting my magic off, almost calling to it, and I could feel an answering warmth in my chest that was completely out of my control.

  “Understand what?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I was the first to break eye contact. “You act like you can’t die,” I said, scoffing even while a part of me hoped he’d tell me I was wrong. But I wasn’t. His brother had died. Dax was hard to kill, but he wasn’t invincible.

  “I can. Everything can. It’s part of life. But I’m about as close as you can get to immortal.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from looking back to him. It was as if I could see the many long years of hard living in his gaze, a bittersweet expression born from knowing too much and having mixed feelings about the wisdom he’d earned.

  With a nod, as if he had said all that he needed to, he stood. I watched as he went below deck, giving me space but leaving a chill where there once was the comforting heat of his body beside mine.

  23

  When Dax and I got to Bitters the next morning, we found him hunched over a single cleared spot on a workbench. But not before we had to bust in a barred door because he’d ignored our banging. If he hadn’t popped up his head, I would’ve thought he was dead.

  “You couldn’t have knocked before deciding to break my door?” Bitters asked, oblivious to the panic he’d caused.

  “Bitters, did you figure out what the stuff we gave you was?” I asked, ignoring his question. My heart was still pounding over the possible setback while he was wiping the sleep from his eyes.

  “Of course I did. I’m the greatest wizard of the last decade.” He stood and started looking over another bench that was overflowing with papers and bottles.