The Devil's Concubine (The Devil of Ponong series #1) (19 page)

There was no need to stare at the rivulets of
water that trailed down his chest to a damp line of dark hair under his navel. But
she took her time lifting her hand to his.

Kyam pulled her to her feet. “I told you that
you’d get out alive.”

“You plotted with Voorus. Ouch!” She winced
and balanced on her good leg. Her ankle wasn’t as mangled as she’d feared, but
it bled freely. She turned to look at the harbor. Sharks thrashed in a feeding
frenzy that sent sprays of bloodied water flying. Beyond was the fortress. She
knew she was safe, but her body still wanted to run. She shook. In a day filled
with brushes with death, she knew this was the one that would leave her with
the most nightmares.

Kyam wrapped his arm around her waist. “Months
ago. Idle talk over drinks. We both want to see the Devil in chains. But you
– no, you’re not part of the deal.”

“Until you have your Ravidians.”

He shook his head slowly.

He bent down close enough to kiss her, but
stopped a breath away of her lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth but rose to
meet hers again. “Please trust me.” And then he gave her no time to answer
before kissing her.

“Kyam!” a man called out. Kyam groaned. The
hand pressed to the small of her back dropped away.

“Danger?” QuiTai hobbled into a defensive
stance to face the new onslaught.

“Worse,” he said. “Family.”

“What
have you
got yourself into now, Ky-Ky?” A Thampurian with a weathered face clambered
out of a boat onto the wharf. He was a bit shorter than Kyam, with an
unmistakable air of authority. His hair was more silver than black. The gold
epaulets on the shoulders of his dark blue wool shewani jacket were tastefully
restrained, unlike the fussy loops of braid she’d seen on the shoulders of
other captains.

“Ky-Ky?” QuiTai’s lips curved.

“Not a word,” Kyam growled.

While his sailors secured the ropes to the
cleats on the dock, the new arrival clapped a hand on Kyam’s shoulder. The men
embraced. Then the captain looked QuiTai over. When he saw the blood streaming
from her ankle, his smile faded. “The lady is injured! Why didn’t you bind
that?”

“I was a little busy,” Kyam said through
gritted teeth.

“Yes. I saw your idea of busy.” The man
bowed. “Captain Hadre Zul. From the civilized branch of the family.”

QuiTai pressed her hands together and bowed. “It’s
a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I’m QuiTai of the QuiYalin Provence.”

The Captain startled. “You’re – But of
course. Who else would Ky-Ky drag into one of his crazy exploits?”

“He doesn’t hate anyone else enough.”

Laugh lines radiated from the Captain’s eyes
as he chuckled. “I’ll have to salvage the family’s reputation then.” He swept
QuiTai into his arms and carried her with no more effort than if she’d been a
child.

“She doesn’t like to be touched,” Kyam said
hastily, and reached out as if to take her from his cousin’s arms; then a
sailor coughed discreetly and handed him a pair of trousers. He yanked them on.

“We got your message. We’re ready to sail,”
Captain Hadre told Kyam as he gently handed QuiTai to the waiting arms of
sailors on the boat.

“Sail? Oh no.” QuiTai tried to climb off the
boat.

“Have you forgotten about the werewolves?”
Kyam asked.

“They can cause all kinds of mayhem inside
the fortress, but you know as well as I do that the only way out is over the
wall, and I’m sure after they saw the sharks eat Ivitch – at least, I think
that was Ivitch, it’s hard to tell without his head… At any rate, I’m sure they’ll
stay put and hope for the Devil to save them at the last second.”

Kyam slammed his hand down on his thigh. “He
wasn’t one of the prisoners? Damn it.”

“Kyam! Language,” Hadre scolded. “Now, Lady
QuiTai, I understand your desire to return to the familiar comforts of your
home, but it would reflect poorly on our hospitality if we allowed you to leave
without first tending your ankle. And maybe a little bite to eat? A glass of
wine? I must insist.”

While his tone was gentler than Kyam’s, it
still brooked little argument. He was a ship’s captain, after all, and from his
confident bearing, used to being obeyed. Reluctantly, QuiTai sank onto the wood
bench in the boat. The terrible thing about excruciatingly good manners was
that there was absolutely no defense against them. She used that ploy against
others often enough to know she’d been outmaneuvered by a master.

Smiling again, Kyam boarded and put his arm
over Hadre’s shoulders. “I owe you for this, cousin.”

Hadre sighed. “Saving your neck seems to be
my job. At least this time you brought pleasant company.”

~ ~ ~

QuiTai sat on Hadre’s bed aboard the
Golden Barracuda
. His cabin wasn’t big, but it was a marvel of
efficiency, with cabinets that opened to reveal all sorts of fascinating things
that she wished she had time to explore.

Her ankle had been
cleaned and bandaged by the ship’s doctor, who tsked and tutted over every
bruise and the scar on her hand. Her ruined clothes had been whisked away with
a promise to return with something dry soon. Their definition of ‘soon’ didn’t
match hers: every time she asked to get dressed, someone brought her food or
more pillows instead. Trapped under the sheets wearing nothing but the chain
around her neck that held the vial of black lotus, all she could do was wait.

“My dear lady!” Hadre
sat back as QuiTai finished relating most of the events of day. “My cousin has
behaved abominably.”

“I’m glad to find
some courtesy in your family,” QuiTai said. Then she said in Kyam’s direction,
“Unlike him.” Kyam glowered and then returned to reading a message that
scrolled out of the captain’s farwriter.

“Ky-Ky, would you
put on a shirt? You look positively barbaric running around clad only in
trousers. QuiTai had to agree, but she didn’t have any objections.

“I saved her from
the funicular wreck,” Kyam said. “That’s hardly treating her poorly.”

Wincing, she touched
the purple bruise on her shoulder. “He shoved me out of the window of a moving
funicular. But yes, in fairness, it saved me.”

“And a good thing
too! The other passengers were killed, you know. And the engineer and ticket
seller in the harbor station. We rushed to the scene, and our ship’s doctor did
what he could, but...”

“I didn’t know,”
QuiTai said. She plucked at the sheet as she frowned. “We were the only two in
our car. I didn’t realize there were others on board.” She felt sick. Petrof could
be vicious and wild, but she’d never known him to attack innocents.

Then again, could
she be sure that he wasn’t one of the werewolves that night two years ago? For
so long, she’d been sure that he’d given her the guilty ones… The more she
looked back, the uglier the vision in her mind. Thampurian justice wasn’t true
justice, but hers had been no better. Was that Petrof’s fault, or hers?

It was hard to
accept that in her fury to make someone pay for that massacre, she’d lashed out
at the first target she found. But she had. That made her worse than any
Thampurian.

Kyam said, “Before
you condemn me, Hadre, there’s a little something you should know about Lady
QuiTai.”

Her fists clenched.
Would Kyam tell his cousin that she was a black lotus user? That she was the
concubine of Levapur’s notorious crime lord? How about that she owned the Red
Happiness? Or that she’d given possibly innocent men to a mob? Did she feel
guilty about any of that?

No. Nor ashamed. She
did what had to be done. No one’s opinion of her mattered, even Kyam’s.

Kyam pointed an
accusing finger at her and said to Hadre, “She enjoyed every minute of this
adventure.” It wasn’t clear whether he was exasperated by her or bragging.

She replied, “That’s
not true. I remember objecting vociferously to our visit to the fortress.”

He grimaced. “The
soldiers were only supposed to escort us to the harbor, not take us to the
fortress.”

“Really, Mister Zul? I’m shocked, simply
shocked, to hear you say that.”

A merry twinkle gleamed in Hadre’s eyes.

Kyam said, “You must be feeling better. You
sound like your old self again.”

Hadre rose from his chair and reached over to
pat her hand. “Don’t you give it another thought. Nothing you could have done.
At least those savage werewolves who sabotaged the line will suffer for their
crime.”

“While the mastermind goes free,” Kyam said.

Hadre turned. “You know who planned it? I
hope you’ve given his name to the authorities.”

“It will be handled, cousin.” Kyam shot a
look at QuiTai.

The junk creaked. Through the windows at the
stern, she heard the sailors shouting. Deep thrumming vibrated through the
hull. Alarmed, she sat up.

Kyam pulled the window shutters closed. “Wouldn’t
want you to get a chill.”

“A chill? Even the lizards are hiding in the
shade today. As you said, Mister Zul, I am quite my old self again. Captain Hadre,
I thank you warmly for your hospitality. Perhaps we’ll meet again under better
circumstances. For now I must return your generosity and do what any thoughtful
guest does when the hour grows late: go home.” She pulled the upper sheet off
the bed, wrapped it around herself in a make-shift sarong, swung her legs over
the side of the bed, and carefully came to her feet.

The junk rocked. She staggered a few steps
and winced as she put weight on her bad ankle.

Kyam and Hadre both rushed to her side; as
Kyam grunted at him, Hadre withdrew his proffered hand and said, “Dear lady,
you’re in no condition to walk up that hill to town. Your ankle will start
bleeding again.”

“And yet that’s exactly what I intend to do. Walk
all the way to my own bed. It’s lovely. The mattress is firm, and the sheets
smell of spice berries. The pillows are beyond count, and each one cradles my
head like a lover’s lap. But the best thing about it is that it’s hidden far
away from every other living being on this island, and I can sleep for hours,
maybe even days, undisturbed.”

“You don’t live with the Devil?” Kyam asked.

“Heavens, no. What an absurd idea.”

“You’re his concubine. It’s not that farfetched,”
Kyam grumbled. “Although... female werewolves don’t live with their males...”

“Take your time mulling that over. Days, if
you must. I can wait for you to reach some wrong conclusion, just not here.”

His face lit up. “Ah, I haven’t delivered my
end of our bargain! Would you risk everyone knowing that I got the best of you
in a business deal?”

“Mister Zul, if I’d known I’d be nearly
killed in a funicular accident, humiliated in front of the entire marketplace,
marched into the fortress, attacked by a werewolf, almost eaten by sharks in a
feeding frenzy, insulted by your egg-thieving landlady, and forced to eat your
cooking, I would have solved Jezereet’s murder my own way.”

Hadre’s eyebrows rose.

“Aren’t you going to blame the sea wasp sting
on me too?”

“That I’m saving for the Devil. He might take
pity on me when he sees that I was hurt.” She doubted it, but she could always
try.

“You’re going back to him?” Kyam bellowed. “After
everything that’s happened?”

There were so many mistakes she’d made, and
only she could set them right. That meant she would have to face Petrof
eventually. She’d expected Kyam to understand that, but he seemed to think she
could simply walk away from everything. That was the thing about living on an
island, though: there was nowhere to run. Nor would she hide if she could. They
were her mistakes, and she had to face the consequences, no matter how painful.

It was almost impossible to have any dignity
while wrapped in a sheet. Drawing herself up to her full height was futile when
it only brought her head as high as Kyam’s chest, but she did it anyway. “No
need to shout. You seem to have forgotten that the Devil’s work is my living.”

Kyam said in a clipped voice, “Don’t take
that icy formal tone with me!”

“We’ll never agree on the subject of the
Devil, so let’s discuss a matter of current relevance. You handed me over to
the colonial military. They were about to throw me in that cell with the
werewolves!”

“I already explained about that! Believe me,
I’m going to protest their interference in my operation all the way up the line
if I have to.”

“I’ll bet you fill out a vicious form, Mister
Zul. Emphatic verbs and terse sentences. I can picture the Thampurian
government quaking as they read it.”

Rage twisted his face as he pointed at her.
He gave her a warning look and spun on his heel. “Cousin, a word.” Kyam stomped
out of the cabin.

Hadre said, “He cooked for you?”

“Rice-and-eggs. Rather crunchy.”

He hid a smile behind his hand as he bowed. “I’ll
see about finding some appropriate clothes for you, Lady QuiTai.” He started to
follow Kyam out of the cabin, but paused at the door. “We’ve just been
introduced, so this might be a bit forward of me, but it’s a rare pleasure to
meet someone who lives up to her legend. Although you’re quite more petite than
I imagined.”

She was left alone to puzzle out what that
might have meant.

~ ~ ~

QuiTai took another sip of the heady wine they’d drunk with
dinner. Her glass was nearly empty. The junk rocked rhythmically now and the
steady mechanical thrumming had a hypnotic effect on her; the stuffy air in the
cabin muddled her thoughts. She wanted to open the window shutters to allow the
breeze in, but her strength ebbed. She sank onto the bed.

Kyam and Hadre
thought they were being crafty, but she’d sailed before and knew the sound of
an anchor being weighed. The increased rocking of the junk meant that they had cleared
the harbor and now were at sea, but that didn’t explain the mechanical noise
that reminded her of the funicular’s engine. While the junks she’d traveled on
before had sailed at night, none had dared the risky maneuvers of a harbor in
the dark: There were dangers in Ponong’s waters beyond the harbor that made
even daytime sailing treacherous.

The Thampurians were
sea dragons, though, so they must know what they were doing. She wouldn’t worry
about the ship. She wasn’t even worried about being abducted by a Thampurian
spy and his charming cousin. What bothered her most was that she wasn’t alarmed
or enraged, even though she should be.