Mark of the Damned | 18+

Byegone

Song – Byegone by Volcano Choir

Hoisting up my skirt, I run behind him. His long strides leading him down the alley and toward the docks.

As soon as I handed him all of my money, he began walking so quickly as if he is purposefully trying to leave me behind. I should have taken this as a sign but I'm stuck now. He has my money and I have nothing of worth to sell to get more.

He looks over his shoulder, calling out but not slowing down. "The men are loading supplies. You can help them."

"Yes, Captain."

I follow him past row after row of huge sailing vessels. The last dock on the pier holds a ship unlike any of the others. The rough, dark wood hardly looks seaworthy. Tattered black sails flap in the breeze.

For a moment, I forget that I'm trying to keep up with him and I stop walking altogether. The ship itself is frightening. The crew, they are not what I expected. They are terrifying.

These men are as massive as the captain. Each one is a tower, a mountain of muscle. They hoist barrels over their shoulders as if lifting a feather. Where are these people from?

"Men," the captain addresses them as I scurry to make up the distance. "This is," he turns to me with a wrinkle on his brow. "I never caught your name, love."

"Niamh."

"This is Niamh. We're chartering her to Portugal. Let's make her feel at home, boys." There is something about the tone of his voice. A swirling coil of fear tightens at the base of my spine.

The twisted grins that pull at their lips fill me with dread. These aren't welcoming smiles. I feel smaller than I've ever felt, not just physically but down to my core. I've never felt more alone than I do now. I've placed myself in this predicament. I need them to escape but I don't trust them. I know I'm not safe.

I feel the same deep chill spread through my veins in their presence that I did with the Viscount. They have ill intentions. My stomach churns, and the temptation to run makes my muscles jerk.

Just as I start to turn, a man appears from below deck. I watch, my gaze fixated on him as he jumps with ease over the side, down onto the docks.

When he makes eye contact with me, the air is pulled from my lungs. His eyes have ensnared me. One blue and one silver, they look straight into my soul. I'm sure I've never seen him before but I feel like I know him, as if I'm seeing an old friend again after a long separation.

He stands frozen, his jaw clenched and his body tense. His eyes flash with shock, then anger.

"Ah, Silver, this is Niamh. She'll be with us until Portugal." Captain Cormac calls to him but he doesn't move. "This is my son, Silver." He turns to me, watching my odd reaction.

"No," his deep, rumbling voice sends a shiver down my spine and warmth to my belly.

"No?"

"No." He turns toward the captain aggressively. "Leave her here."

With a loud, bellowing laugh, the captain tips his head back, cackling into the wind. The rest of the crew have abandoned their work to watch the scene unfolding in front of them.

"Boy," he finally says, his laughter abandoned, rage shaking his voice. "I am the captain of this vessel. I have accepted her charter. Who are you to question your captain?"

Silver steps forward, grabbing his father's arm, pulling him slightly forward to speak to him quietly. Whatever he says causes the captain to laugh again, loudly.