Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,53

surprising, that the two of you are so fixated on the same girl. I have to admit, I’m curious to meet her. But the longer she stays in my waters the more likely it is Lir will return. I should sink you here and now. Take something precious from him. And you.”

“You won’t find us so easy to sink, Tassos.” Oran didn’t blink as he delivered the threat.

Tassos laughed. “My Bullets have rigged your friends with enough mag bombs to crumble an island. Send any of your ships forward and they blow. Do anything but leave here and they blow.”

“That rot fish!” Nettle punctuated her declaration with a sudden slap against the wheel.

Caledonia clenched her teeth. The Bullets had disabled Silver Fleet, and while they sat helplessly, seeded the water around them with mag bombs. In the space of a breath, Tassos could take half her fleet from her. She was ready to snatch the radio and tell Tassos exactly what she intended to do when Oran spoke once more. This time, his voice was smooth and cool, the whisper of silk across skin.

“Keep them,” he said. “Hold them hostage while we talk. If you don’t like what she has to say, you can pull the trigger.”

At this, Tassos hesitated, and when he answered there was an unmistakable hint of interest in his tone. “I want you there, Steelhand.”

Oran’s expression was an impenetrable mask. Whatever existed between them still, it was dangerous. Caledonia had the sudden overwhelming urge to protect Oran from it. And the terrifying knowledge that she wouldn’t be able to.

“I’ll be there.”

This elicited a long pause. “One ship each to the center,” Tassos said at last. “You have five minutes and then we open fire.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“He will try to intimidate you.” Oran checked the clip of his sidearm before returning it to its holster. “And he’s always been a little . . . unpredictable.”

“He’s not my first Fiveson.” Caledonia checked each of her weapons. Oran was hiding something, she just wasn’t sure what.

“I know, I just—” Oran stopped himself, looking up at Caledonia with a grim determination. “He’s . . . not Lir.”

Caledonia narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher what Oran wasn’t telling her. As she gave him a tentative nod, a call went up on deck.

“Bow boat on approach!” Folly shouted. “Ready lines!”

The small vessel cut its engines and came alongside where Caledonia’s crew was ready with hook and lash. Soon, the boat was lifted from the water and Sledge and Pine vaulted over the rail.

“Welcome aboard,” Caledonia said, the smallest bit of relief bringing a smile to her face at the sight of them.

“Ready when you are, Captain,” Sledge said in his solemn way.

Pine only nodded once in agreement, but his expression was locked down as tight as Oran’s. Tassos made all three of them nervous in a way Caledonia had never seen before, and it was starting to make her anxious.

“Let’s move!” she called to her crew.

The Luminous Wake sailed forward alone. No one made a sound as the protection of their fleet slipped into their wake, but their eyes widened as they moved within reach of Fiveson Tassos.

Caledonia spied Gloriana on the forward deck of the Firebird, arms crossed and stance wide. As they passed, Caledonia gave her people a stern nod, projecting steely confidence she only barely felt.

Directly ahead, the towering ships of the Net obliterated the horizon. They were Assault Ships, but each was larger than those Caledonia was used to confronting. They rose out of the water like hulking beasts, each tethered to the next by sturdy planks, turning them from a series of individual ships into a massive road. Where other Bullet ships ringed their decks in deadly spikes, these ships wore similar spikes pointed toward the water, ready to puncture the hull of any ship attempting to sail past. Between them, rows of razor wire and sharpened hooks hung low. It was exactly as terrible as Caledonia had always expected it to be. And so much worse.

She had only a second to take them in, then there was nothing between the Luminous Wake and the ten waiting Bullet ships. One sailed out to meet them.

“Prepare for port-to-port!” Pisces’s call rang out.

The Bullet ship nosed alongside them, the spiked crown ringing its deck only inches away. Though each pike was clear of bodies, brown blood dripped down the hull as though the metal were stained with it.

As both ships engaged their thrusters and closed the distance, the Bullets let