Mulberry escorts me back downstairs. It’s three in the morning, but I’m not tired. My body is strung tight. We stop outside the door. Blue’s low growl lets me know he’s right on the other side.
“Last time you left me in an emergency, I thought you were dead for almost a year.” I say it casually, like it wasn’t so painful that the minute my brain had an excuse to forget it all…it did. Like the memory of that last kiss didn’t haunt me until the seizure wiped it away.
“Yeah, it wasn’t my best eleven months either,” Mulberry says with a wry smile, stepping closer, his hand landing on my hip, fitting just right.
I lean against the door and tilt my chin up. “At least the kiss goodbye was good.”
“One of the best,” Mulberry murmurs, coming closer, his head angled down, his wide shoulders blocking out the hall, so it feels for a brief moment like we are all that exists in this totally fucked up world. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to me.
My eyes slide closed and our lips touch, warm and smooth, sending fire through my veins. His hand tightens on my hip and the other sneaks between me and the door, slipping under my shirt and pressing to my lower back, pulling me flush to his body. We melt together, the kiss deepening. The swirling promise of death flutters around us, heightening the moment. I never feel as alive as when I might die.
Mulberry pulls back, I bite his lower lip and he growls, coming back to me. The hand at my lower back slides up to between my shoulder blades, while the hand on my hip moves to take its place. I’m totally wrapped in his arms. My hands are in his hair, twisting it between my fingers.
I break the kiss, breathless. Mulberry chuckles against my lips. “Fuck, I missed you.”
“Hopefully we aren’t about to die.”
He shakes his head, his forehead rubbing mine. “We’re not going down from pirates, Sydney. If a volcano and a tsunami can’t kill us, sea thieves aren’t going to do it.”
I laugh. “I’ll take your word for it,” I say, releasing his hair. Mulberry kisses my nose and unwinds his arms, his fingers lingering on my hips for another moment before he steps back.
“Kiss our baby for me.”
“I will.”
He waits while I open the door. When I step inside and turn back to him, his eyes are bright, his lips turned up in a smile way too happy for the situation. “See you soon,” he says.
“I love you,” I say, trusting we won’t die, but knowing you can’t say those words too much.
“I love you, too.”
I close the door. Blue’s nose swipes my fingers. I pet his head and greet the other dogs.
James lies sleeping in the bed, a small pale figure in the darkness. I step up to the starboard-facing window. The pirate ship looks huge from this angle. Their sharp steel bow could ram right through our hull.
I lie down next to James, propping up pillows so I can see out the windows easily.
The yacht slows. A tender leaves the pirate ship. We must be putting the captives into the water. I can’t see the swim platform from my position, but I imagine it. The injured men slipping into the dark water.
Our yacht speeds up as the tender approaches. I can see the lights on the men’s vests. The small vessel reaches one of them moments later and hauls him on board.
The pirate ship is still going full speed, headed straight for us…or for the tender. But wouldn’t they slow down to get their men back on board?
“Shit,” I whisper as the tender zips out of the way, circling from the large ship’s path as it continues to barrel toward our starboard side. Our ship turns sharply and Frank slides off the bed, landing with a thump and sharp bark of surprise.
I brace myself and James, keeping us in place, but he wakes, reaching for me. Pulling up my shirt, I lift him onto my chest. He straddles me and latches, his warm body draping over mine, a leg and arm on each side.
The steel ship is behind us now and my attention shifts to the rear-facing windows. There is yelling from the aft deck below us, men preparing the mounted machine gun?
Frank jumps back on the bed and lies down next to me, his snout touching James’s foot. Blue lies at my feet, his head up, attention on the approaching ship. Nila on the other side takes the same pose as her father. It’s like we have a sphinx on either side of us.
The steel ship blasts by its tender, clearly coming straight for us. I take deep even breaths, endeavoring to stay calm so as not to fill my body and breast milk with adrenaline.
James keeps nursing, a small crease in his brow. I stroke his back gently.
Sekhmet trembles, and a white line cuts through the ocean, heading straight for the pirate ship. I brace myself for the impact.
The pirate ship shudders, and a fiery ball erupts from the port side of the hull with a thundering boom. Shards of steel arc through the air. Flames leap, twinned with water, an impossible marriage made possible by the power of explosives. James’s head pops up and he turns toward the sound.
Our entire window is lit up with the smoking blaze. The pirate ship lists toward the fire.
“It’s okay, sweetie.” James turns to me. “Everything’s okay,” I say again. He looks back at the sinking ship. “Come on, honey, go back to sleep.” He turns back to my breast, latching but then pulling away again, drawn back to the devastation growing smaller by the second as we flee.
James’s birth appears in my mind’s eye—a movie of a memory. Vivid because of the pain, the fear, and the extraordinary setting. Smoke thickened the air and flames lit up the night when I gave birth to my boy.
Peter’s anchor eyes come unbidden. “You can do this.” His voice fills my ears.
James settles back on my breast.
“Born into fire,” I say, kissing the top of his head. “Born into fire.”
The ship fades to a glowing dot on the horizon. Then it’s gone. A mortal danger transformed in minutes into a memory. My eyes are gritty with exhaustion. James slips back into sleep and I follow.
I stir as Mulberry slides into the bed next to me. James is still asleep on my chest and I roll him onto his side, so that he’s bracketed by me and Frank, then scoot closer to Mulberry.
He smells like he just got out of the shower. I inhale the clean scents mixed with his own special Mulberry concoction.
“What we were doing wasn’t inherently dangerous,” I mumble against his chest.
“What?” he asks, his lips brushing my hair in a kiss.
“We weren’t being foolhardy. This trip through quiet waters on a sturdy boat should have been safe.” My sleep-addled words run together.
“That’s true.” Mulberry’s hand runs up and down my arm. “Death can come for you anywhere. No life is safe, that’s the problem with being a mortal.” He chuckles at his own joke.
“I keep trying to be safe,” I mumble. “Why can’t I ever just be safe? Keep him safe?” My voice chokes out, as images of my father’s dying eyes, my brother’s bloody chest, Malina’s slumped body, all explode behind my closed eyes.
“Shhh.” Mulberry pulls me in close and rocks gently. “We can keep him safe.”
“My track record on keeping people I love safe is terrible.”
“That’s not true.” His grip on me tightens. “Blue is still alive.” I sniffle. “And I’m still here.”
“Yeah, but you’re—”
He stiffens. “I’m what?”
I pull back, needing to meet his gaze. He’s lost so much of himself, physically and mentally because of me. “When I drew you into this you were…”
“Whole?”
I shake my head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. But I…”
“You’re not responsible for what I’ve lost. The parts of me that are gone are gone. Who’s to say what would have happened to me if I’d stayed in New York? But I know I wouldn’t have James and I wouldn’t have you. I wouldn’t have the kind of purpose I’ve gotten from Joyful Justice. I don’t blame you for what I’ve lost, but I know that you’re the reason for everything I’ve gained.”
Tears choke me and I push my face into his chest again, breathing him in, willing his words to be true. “I don’t know. I…” I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. Peter’s anchor eyes appear behind my closed lids churning anxiety in my chest. I leaned on him and he turned out to be a false idol. A hallucination of a hero.
“You trust you and I’ll trust me, then we will be safe with each other.” Mulberry’s hand rubs my back.
I run that sentence over again in my mind. You trust you and I’ll trust me. That’s what will make us safe? I sit up, meeting his gaze. Mulberry raises his hand, brushing his fingers down my cheek. “You don’t have to trust anyone else, or the world. Just trust yourself - you’re not going to crumble. You won’t break.”
“How do you know?” My voice comes out quiet, unsure. I believe him. I do. But life’s realities…trouble’s obsession with me. Grief’s talons.
“I just do.” His smile is gentle.
“When did you get so wise?”
“Lying in a ventilation shaft in hallucinatory pain for three days will earn you some hard-won truths.” He’s smiling like it’s a joke.
I huff a laugh. “My hallucinations never gave me any helpful insights.”
“It’s the jagged truth of life, Sydney. We are born alone, and we die alone. We need others to survive, but we must trust ourselves. It’s the only way to survive.”
“I trust you.”
“That’s good. And I trust you. But more than my faith in you is my faith in me.”
“That’s a hell of a higher power.” I’m joking but Mulberry doesn’t smile.
He leans forward and kisses me lightly. Against my lips he whispers. “Sydney Motherfucking Rye can handle anything. And you know it.”