Hunt on Dark Waters (Crimson Sails #1) Read Online Katee Robert

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Witches Tags Authors: Series: Crimson Sails Series by Katee Robert
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
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I give nem a wide-eyed look. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” I know how to work a long con, though I don’t normally have the patience for that sort of thing. I also can’t take for granted that anyone would lend me a willing ear on this ship. It’s entirely possible—probable, even—that they are all as murderous as Miles or as horrifically boring and law-abiding as Bowen.

I haven’t seen anyone as attractive, though.

No.

No, absolutely not.

I might have terrible taste in partners, but even I have to have limits. A grumpy, uptight pirate paladin would have Bunny emerging from whatever plane of existence she’s landed on in her afterlife to slap the shit out of me. Not that Bowen would consider himself a paladin, but if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a fucking paladin.

Never fall for a paladin, little bird. Their first love will always be their god, and you’ll come a distant second. If that god demands your bleeding heart on an altar, they will weep and wallow in guilt, but they’ll hack the organ right out of your chest without hesitation.

“It’s not so bad.” Kit’s voice interrupts my dark thoughts. Ne watches me with sympathy in nir dark eyes. “No one on this ship sought out this life, but we’ve all made the best of it. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but the captain is a good man and we do good work. Important work.”

“Killing monsters.”

Ne nods. “Just so.”

I shouldn’t do anything to piss off these people more than I already have, but restraint is not one of my virtues. “Funny thing, that. We have monster killers in my realm, too. Who gets to decide who’s a monster and who’s not?” I won’t pretend like there aren’t monsters who hunt among the human population, but plenty of those monsters aren’t paranormal in the least. The hunters in my realm don’t go after them, though. Too often, those hunters use “monster” to label anyone who doesn’t adhere to their criteria of what makes a person human.

Plenty of those groups had witches on their list not too long ago.

Some of them still do.

Kit stares at me for a long moment and shakes nir head. “You’re going to be a giant pain in the ass, aren’t you?”

“Undoubtedly.” I fight for a smile, a real one. “I do appreciate the welcome, though. I’m not one to handle being outmaneuvered gracefully, but I’ll do my best to settle in.” At least until I find a way out of this mess. I don’t know what my plan is yet, though. Run? Try to find out more about this Council that seems to make even the captain uneasy and somehow blackmail them into sending me home? What I need is more information, and the only way to get that is to bide my time here on the ship.

Going back to my realm means contending with Lizzie and the fact I stole something she will most definitely want back. I’m not foolish enough to think that the fact that we’ve shared a bed will soften her toward me. I know how she deals with betrayal—blood and violence. She really sounded like she meant it when she threatened to kill me.

“Dinner is in shifts. You can take first, which is in about an hour.” Kit points at the chest at the foot of the bed. “Spare clothes are in there. We’ll outfit you properly when we make port next, but you should find something to tide you over until then. Report to the kitchen after you eat. You don’t seem like you’re experienced with sailing, so that’s a safe place to start working until Miles finds a permanent place for you.” Ne turns without another word and leaves the room.

I count to ten slowly twice before I allow my knees to buckle and slump to the edge of bed. What a mess. Too much, too fast. My hands are shaking despite my best efforts. Stress and fear have a way of coming out no matter how good my control. I take a breath and let my body have its reaction. No crying—I’m nowhere low enough to shed actual tears over my circumstances—but my chest goes tight and my skin hot as tremors rack my limbs.

Fifteen minutes feels like an eternity, but it isn’t nearly long enough for someone to come looking for me. Exhaustion weighs me down and I flop back onto the mattress. Okay, Evelyn. Think. There’s a way out of this, but you don’t need a solution right now. If they need to make port to gear you up, then that will be your first chance to run. In the meantime … behave.

Easier said than done.

I force myself into motion. A quick search through the chest comes up with a sad assortment of clothing. I finally find a pair of pants that fits well enough and a loose white shirt that would do any pirate on the cover of a romance novel proud. There are no bras to be found, so I grimace and set aside my damp one. Shoes are also a problem, and I’m exceedingly glad I was wearing my boots when I went through the portal.


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