The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (boyxboy)

CHAPTER 2

But golden? No. Az has never seen a siren in person, at least not up close, but even he knows they don't come in gold. He'd known someone once, a friend of sorts, who'd made that point abundantly clear right before Slade had pushed him into the ocean with his broken hands tied together.

Az has tried, but could only ever guess what has the captain so obsessed with any siren. They're known for being vicious, bloodthirsty things. Predators of unimaginable power, able to use their singing alone to entice a person into the water where they will cruelly break their spell before tearing their victims' flesh from their bones with razor-sharp teeth. Untameable, certainly, but likely worth a pretty penny to the right buyer, which is the only reason Az can come up with for Slade's fixation.

"So you want me to...?"

Slade's smile doesn't falter for one second. "My sources tell me Enriqué is local to Varez and is home for the birth of his first child. I just want you to go into town and find him, learn what you can about what he saw, and report back to me."

Az blinks. "That's...it?"

"I said it was simple. That's it." Slade pauses, staring at Az with an intensity that could make stone crumble. "Although," he adds, voice low. "Let me offer you some friendly words of advice."

The blood in his veins runs cold at the shift. No, Slade has never taken his anger out on him, but Az has spent the past two years watching him take it out on other people when they don't pick up on his cues, knowing at any second that it could be him. He's learned to read Slade better than he's learned to read anyone else, and so he doesn't take his eyes off the man.

"If you make a mistake this time, if you fail to deliver, I'm afraid I'll have to hold you accountable. I've run out of men I don't particularly like, which puts you right at the bottom of the food chain, doesn't it?" In his peripheral vision, Az barely sees him fingering the hilt of a silver blade whose handle is embedded with red jewels. "I'd really hate to have to drive that point home, you understand?"

"Perfectly," Az affirms without missing a beat. "I won't make any mistakes."

In less than half a breath, a crooked beam breaks out over Slade's face. He straightens up and ruffles Az's wild curls with one spidery hand. "I have faith you'll do your best!"

When the captain stands and turns, Az runs a hand through his hair as if that will dispel Slade's skin-crawling touch. Slade doesn't often touch anyone, but whenever he does it always leaves Az feeling kind of...icky.

"And I do mean it, you know," Slade adds, not looking at him. "I want to see you do well, Azaziah. It would be so much easier if you'd just do as I say."

Az scowls at the back of the captain's head. If Slade is obsessed with the tale of the golden siren, his next fixation is Az himself.

Two years ago he should have pushed Az to his death just as he had Ginger. They'd both been caught trying to intercept a nefarious plan Az had overheard Slade's crew making. They'd both been quickly and violently overpowered. They'd both been thrown belowdecks and left to stew over their fates for hours. Then Ginger had mouthed off about Slade, to Slade. Az hadn't. He finds it hard to believe that's the reason Slade kept him alive. Still keeps him now, and tries without much success to make a pirate of him.

Only once has he asked Slade why, but that had been back then. After the sound of Ginger splashing into the waves below had long gone, and Az was finally starting to become aware of the pain in his knees from collapsing on the deck. When Paver had whispered something frightening enough in his ear to have him calculating how long it would take him to reach the side of the ship and jump off himself, only to have Slade warn him off with authority clear in his voice. While Slade was sitting him down in this very chair and wrapping a blanket around his trembling shoulders and offering him a glass of burning alcohol, asking him for his name.