Under Black Skies (Beneath Black Sails, #3)

by Clare Sager

The girl who looked like a miniature version of Barnacle was Flotsam. Her sister was a pale silvery tabby, and they’d called her Jetsam. The two boys were Anchor and Cable, the former all black and the latter a dark smoky tabby like their father.

She was safe. She was well. The heat in his veins eased.

“I came after you.” “I didn’t need you to.” She folded her arms. “You could’ve got yourself killed.” “And you could have got yourself killed.”

“But you were happy to dive into it yourself?” “What happens to me doesn’t matter.” “What happens…” he spluttered.

“It matters to me.”

“You shouldn’t.” Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t care? Shouldn’t stand so close that he could smell battle and rain on her? Shouldn’t—?

“It’s a shame, really.” Saba sighed. “I hate seeing such skilled fingers go to waste.”

Gods damn it, around her, his body wasn’t entirely his own. Each part of him pulled towards her like he was a compass point and she was north. Did that make her his course? His guiding point?

“I know some love life at sea”—like him, like Vee—“but it sounds like it’s only a means to an end for her.”

“Everyone leaves,” she muttered, so quietly, it might’ve been to herself rather than him. “They leave, they die, or they let you down. I know that. I know.”

His heart shrivelled. Oh, Vee. He fastened both hands around the cup to keep them from her.

“You can make the most of her while she’s still here.”

“Knew it would work? You were already forgiven by the time we’d chased those stragglers to their boats.” “No, not that. Perry’s advice. I thought it could be something to distract your hands.” “I can think of better ways to distract my hands.”

“Knigh Blackwood,” he muttered, “you need to leave that Pirate Queen well alone.”

Was it really any surprise that Saba would be interested in Knigh? He was ridiculously charismatic, funny in that dry way of his, deliciously flirtatious when he actually relaxed. He was capable, smart, kind… Reliable. Gorgeous. Fierce. Stronger than he gave himself credit for.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you saying should. Still doubting?” “You? Never.” One eyebrow raised, he nodded towards her bag. “A ciphered text written two centuries ago? Perhaps.”

“Wonder if there are any glow-worms in here.”

Vice shot him a look, but he only looked at the ceiling, all innocence. Innocent, my arse. She gave a soft laugh. Was it a comfort that his mind had gone in the same direction? Or just plain dangerous?

“What did you want to know?” “Everything?” “Oof. Everything is a lot, Knigh.”

“Did I really make such a poor impression when we were children?” “A poor impression?”

“Knigh, you drove me nuts.”

“You were so arrogant. You really thought you were better than me—than anyone.”

“I found you intimidating.”

“Yes, but you were already beautiful”—he

and even then you had that spark of… of… free abandon that you burn with now.”

“It was that life I was really running away from, not you. And poor, foolish Evered just got caught up in it.”

“I’m sure he was only too happy to follow you anywhere,” Knigh said,

“for the record, I liked it when we were sent to play together. I liked young Avice Ferrers, though I agree—that wasn’t the world for her. She was too bright, too alive, too passionate. Though, I also remember a softness in her…”

“Around your mother, especially.”

“I didn’t know you cared.” He said it with a chuckle, but, damn, that idea was warm and bright, like the first sunny day after Albion’s winter.

But every time he and Vee touched, it shook through him, stirring a storm of emotions—care, want, comfort, desire, a drive to protect… All of it far too strong for just friends. And every touch chiselled away his self-control.

“I’ve seen this symbol before,” she muttered, nostrils flaring. “And this shape…” She traced the rectangle. “Gods damn it all—we need Mercia’s map.”

“A mud bath?” Knigh drew level with her and peered at the dark water. “You want me to wallow in mud like a pig?”

Hahahaha

see.” He said it lightly, like he didn’t believe her. “But unless you tie me up and leave me in my berth, I’m not sure how you’re going to keep me away.” “Now there’s an idea.”

Knigh tied up was a pleasing image on so many levels.

“Aye, Captain.” Knigh snapped to attention. Vice couldn’t help but smile at that. You could take the man out of the Navy, but you couldn’t take the Navy out of the man—not this man, anyway.

He was made for this—for ships, for the sea, for taking the wheel at her side. Ba-dump—her heart gave a heavy beat that stole her breath.

“I only do as I’m bid by the wicked Pirate Queen who holds me utterly in her thrall.”

“Sometimes I think this ship was built for you.”

He gave her a sidelong look, and her heart leapt in her chest again. Gods, he was intoxicating. Especially this new version of him, still controlled in so many ways, but with a blossoming ease that made his laughter less rare and his smile more relaxed.

“Why is it whenever I need to escape, I’m wearing a bloody dress?”

she put on an emerald green gown, the neckline so low she’d spill out if she bent over. That was probably the point. Knigh looked her over, eyebrows twitching, before he cleared his throat and turned for the door. “That’ll distract them, all right.”

Your boldness tempered by your attention to detail. Your determination and your experience. Your combined intelligence—no, let’s call it what it is—cunning…” She blew out a low whistle. “If you two captained a ship together, I’d pity the navy who tried to withstand you. Together, you two are unstoppable and in this… I think that leviathan is just what’s needed to break the blockade.”

“I’ll do it as many times as it takes.” She would. She meant that.

Barnacle jumped from her sea chest and padded over. She curled up behind his knees and took up a rumbling purr.

“It… it breaks my heart to see you like this. And, yes, I do have one, before you say anything.”

“I wasn’t going to. I’ve known it for a long time.”

“You haven’t been my enemy in a long, long time.”

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” “Knigh, you bastard!”

“I’m trying to be serious here!”