Devourer of Men (Devourer, #1)

by Nikki St. Crowe

“You missed me, Captain,” I say and toss a peanut shell. “I missed you too.”

Just who is running this country anyway? The dockmaster mentioned a queen but Everland has never been a forward-thinking kingdom. Women don’t typically rule here.

“‘Lies My Captain Told Me.’” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, trailing it with wetness. He laughs. “That’s the title of my future memoir.” I snort and reach for my drink. Anything to distract me, to hide the tremor in my hands. My captain. MY captain?

“Is there anything as sexy as a squirming ship’s captain?” His mouth curves into a smile. “I think not.” Christ. He’s playing with me and I’m dancing for him like a fucking puppet.

“You are a fucking menace, do you know that?” “Of course I do. I’m very good at it.” “You think you’re good at everything.” “Nonsense. I’m very bad at knitting.”

The question is, why does the royal guard care enough to apprehend me? I dine with royalty. I’m not typically seized by them. I’m too handsome and charming for that.

“That one right there? That’s the Crocodile. The Devourer of Men.” The sweaty pastry widens his eyes and lurches back. He drops the lantern and the glass shatters, the flame snuffing out. The other guards laugh at his expense and he sputters in counter. “I didn’t recognize him! I didn’t know.” The man who punched the Captain gives the embarrassed guard a pat on the shoulder. “Fair not, Basker. You’re right to be afraid. He’s more dangerous than the pirate.” “Christ,” the Captain mutters. “Sorry.” I bump his knee with mine and wink at him. “Looks like I’m more infamous than you.”