I lost track of time as I embraced the ghost of the woman I missed with every-fucking-thing.
But then another shot.
This one unmasked by tide or yacht.
Boom.
The sound reverberated around the bay, echoing in clock towers and throughout ship masts.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
My eyes snapped open.
What the—
A scream.
A shout.
A splash.
Shit, they’ve found us.
Launching from my spot on the crates, I vaulted down to the wharf and ran. My socked feet were silent as I slithered into the darkness and flew toward the front of the ship. A small boat motor cranked, growling and shredding the night sky with rancid petrol fumes.
French mutterings interspersed with the engine as someone fed it and speed hurtled it forward. I caught a flash of a sparrow painted on the hood and a red and blue bundled figure sprawled in the back.
Pimlico?
Fuck, it can’t be…
I’d only sat for a few minutes. They’d been safe. They’d been obliviously, disgustingly in love—
They were ambushed.
Fuck!
The speed boat opened up, skipping faster over black tides. There was nothing I could do. No way I could swim after it and no harpoon I could use to shoot it.
I was helpless as white water sloshed around the wharf as I took off at a dead sprint.
They had Pimlico, but where was Prest?
Tearing back the way I’d come, I gasped for oxygen as I spat profanities at how long this damn yacht was.
Finally reaching the gangway, I snatched the railing and snapped myself into a sharp turn, digging my toes into the rungs, shooting toward the deck.
My skin turned icy with dread.
No noise.
No staff.
No life.
Where the fuck is everyone?
Snagging a gun tucked into one of the many hidey-holes around the deck, I charged toward Prest’s room.
Cocking the weapon, I wrapped my finger around the trigger. Ready.
His doors were wide. Blood smeared the polished deck. Corpses littered his quarters.
Men dressed in black with bright red gloves.
Chinmoku.
If they’re dead…where the hell is Prest?
Skidding on the wooden floor, I bolted toward the side where the balustrade stood to attention, and the ladder was thrown to the water below.
I looked down to where the bastards had stolen Pim and found the one man I called a friend.
Far below, barely noticeable in the silver moon shine and occasional wharf light, Elder gasped and coughed, treading water weakly, his face scrunched tight and a hand clamped over his arm.
He went under.
My fingers clutched the barrier as he reappeared, his mouth wide and eyes shut, barely holding on to life.
Too focused on survival, he didn’t see me and went under again. And again. His legs useless at keeping him afloat.
Another few minutes, he’d tire and drown. Another few minutes, he’d be dead, and I’d be alone yet again.
Not gonna fucking happen.
Throwing the gun to the deck, I ripped off my jacket and trousers, breaking my shirt buttons in my haste to tear it off. Prest might have minutes, but I would only take seconds.
Naked apart from my boxers, I threw myself off the side.
I didn’t think about where the staff were or why dead Chinmoku were bleeding on his bedroom floor. I didn’t worry about Pimlico and who’d abducted her. Elder was the linchpin in this floating family and my top priority.
I landed too close, drenching him in yet more water.
He gasped and coughed, sinking beneath the churning waves.
He didn’t come back up.
Duck-diving, I connected with cold flesh and hoisted him to the surface. As his mouth found air, he groaned and inhaled, crying out in pain as I manoeuvred him into a recovery position. Seawater streamed over his face as I wrapped my arm around the front of his chest, making sure his chin was cocked for breath.
Back-stroking, I powered toward the wharf.
He cried out as my legs kicked one of his, his face a mask of torture. “Goddammit, Selix. Where the fu-fuck were you?” His teeth shattered from shock and cold, his blood spilling like oil.
I wouldn’t tell him I’d had a moment of weakness and reminisced. I wouldn’t admit that I’d committed treason while he’d been at war. “I’m here now.”
“Well, don’t worry about me. Go after them—” He wracked with coughs, flinching as more pain found him. “They took her.”
I glanced at the black horizon where no sign of the boat or noise of its engine existed. It was as if she’d never been. Even the scent of gasoline had faded to salty nothingness. “They’re gone, Prest.”
“They can’t be fucking gone. They can’t have—” He groaned as my legs once again kicked his, tangling in his dead weight as I swam closer to the pier. “They can’t have her.”
Warm blood flowed over my hand where I’d tucked it under his armpit. I’d seen enough bullet wounds to know he needed to get out of the ocean and fast. He needed to remain calm and collected. He needed to care about himself first then worry about Pim.