The Red Drifter of the Sea (Pirates of the Isles #3) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,75

more than one man in that very place. But as he pictured the inside of his cabin, a resolve swept over him. Never again would he use that hook to torture a captive. The hook had become Moira’s, and only she would be restrained there for her pleasure—if she agreed. He would never bring another prisoner into his cabin. Full stop. The space would be Moira’s haven if she agreed to return to him. He motioned for the men to follow him to the hold.

Carrying a lit candle Braedon handed him, Kyle led the way down the ladder into the underbelly of the ship. When Dermot’s awkward frame was uncooperative and slipped, none of the men made a move to prevent his fall. He landed against the hull with two thuds, first his body then his head. Now that Kyle had him confined to the hold and his men outnumbered his foe, there was no reason for him to remain unconscious. Kyle drove his booted foot into Dermot’s ribs. The man groaned and tried to roll away, but that only put him next to Tomas’s toes. The first mate kicked him in the belly.

“You’re awake. Be a man and stand up,” Kyle growled, this time only nudging him with his boot.

Dermot let loose a stream of curses in Irish Gaelic that the men could guess the meaning of. Unfazed, Kyle crossed his arms and tapped his toes until Dermot lumbered to his feet. As soon as he was upright, Tomas and Snake Eye captured an arm each and dragged Dermot to the center of the hold where there were several hooks screwed into the ceiling. With ample rope available, Tomas and Snake Eye soon had Dermot secured. Kyle added his strength as the three men pulled Dermot’s arms over his head until he dangled from the rope.

Dermot watched Kyle through bleary eyes. He’d drunk himself to sleep that night, angered that he’d lost most of his men to Kyle and Keith, lost his horse to Moira, and lost her as well. He opened his mouth to spit at Kyle, but Kyle drove his fist into Dermot’s face, shattering his nose.

“Where is she? She wasn’t at your camp,” Kyle demanded.

“Who?” Dermot asked innocently.

“Where is Moira MacDonnell?”

“I don’t know where my bluidy bride is. Dead, hopefully.”

“I don’t believe you,” Kyle sneered as he brought his palm to Dermot’s cheek in a ringing slap. “We found the cave she likely hid in. You went to look for her but didn’t find her, did you?”

As they sailed past Arklow, Kyle ordered torches lit and a dinghy lowered. He and Keith went alone to explore the jetty. They found the narrow opening that the crashing waves of high tide hid the last time they searched for Moira. Kyle had no evidence to substantiate his belief, but he was certain Moira was still alive. His heart and mind screamed it in unison.

“She wasn’t there,” Dermot conceded.

“But you found her when she left. What did you do to her?” Kyle plowed his fist into Dermot’s jaw. “Tell me, and the beating ends. Play games with me, and I beat you until you look forward to me setting you adrift.”

Dermot smirked but said nothing. Kyle drew a dirk from his belt, easing it from its sheath. He held it so it glowed in the candles Tomas and Snake Eye now held aloft. Kyle examined both sides before he pressed the tip against his forefinger, drawing a drop of blood. He held up the knife and his finger for Dermot to see.

“You know, just as I do, that sharks come at the scent of blood in the water. You know that there are several varieties of sharks in the Irish Sea. Big sharks, little sharks. It matters not. They will all fight for a chance to eat you. So once more, you decide. Do I beat you to a bloody pulp, then set you adrift to be disemboweled and quartered by sharks? Or do you receive my mercy and don’t end up as chum?”

Not waiting for Dermot’s response, he slashed his blade across Dermot’s protruding belly. The knife cut through the man’s doublet and sliced the skin below. Blood blossomed and spread across the material. Kyle canted his head as though he was assessing his work. He canted his head back the other direction and turned the corners of his mouth down in a mocking frown.

“You shouldn’t have made me ask twice,” Kyle mused. “That may draw a few