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The pounding of his head wakes him first, followed by the clatter of something on the wooden floor. Kenz peeks open an eye and takes in his surroundings, slightly surprised he’s in Henley’s quarters. “Henny?” he croaks, sitting up with a groan. Bits and pieces of the last day and a half flash in his memory, but it’s hard to grasp at any of them clearly.
“Pogue wouldn’t let yeh back on The Heartbreak,” she says with a bitter edge to her voice. “I had half a mind not ta let yeh back on The Anguish, either.”
“Fecking hell what’d I do now?” The answer comes to him before she responds and he feels impossibly worse than before. “Hen... feck, I’m sorry. I should have told yeh.”
She continues sharpening the very blade she held to Remy’s throat. “Not just me yeh gotta apologize to, Makenzie. Yeh brought a Hallam into this world, and by a witch, no less. How d’yeh think yer brother feels about that?”
The name makes him flinch but he opts not to focus on that. “Like he wants ta keelhaul me all the way to the Haven. Feck... I didn’t care what she wanted ta take from me, Hen. I just needed her ta save you. All that mattered was you. I was ready to give my life for yers and when she asked for me feckin’ seed it felt like I was gettin’ off the bloody hook.”
“Why didn’t yeh go to the apothecary, Kenz?” She finally sets the dagger down and turns to face him, and the anger in her eyes has been replaced by disappointment. “Yeh know we don’t mess with magic. That’s been a Hallam rule since Jones himself. I had ta swear on me life when Pogue brought The Anguish into his fleet that I’d never go near it. It’s his cardinal rule, even above the rule against raping.”
Kenz knows all this, he doesn’t need another lecture about his brother’s rules. “Yeh think I forgot or somethin’? I didn’t care about anythin’ but you. Didn’t expect much gratitude for it, but fecking hell... didn’t know yeh’d make me feel like shit for saving the only woman I ever loved.” He grabs his dagger and thrusts it into her hand by the hilt. “Stab me heart and get it over with.”
She stares at it for a long moment and then sets it down. “I’m sorry, Kenz. That wasn’t... I wasn’t tryin’ ta... Pogue kicked yeh off The Heartbreak, Kenz. I’m not worth that.”
“Yer worth everything. Are yeh bloody payin’ attention at all, woman?” Kenz cups her chin to meet her gorgeous green eyes. “There’s only two people in the whole world I’d follow into fire, Henley... and yer one of ‘em.”
“Aye, that’s just the problem, Kenz. I think yeh just might’ve.” She jumps into his arms and kisses him, tugging his messy hair and biting his lip hard enough to make him hiss. “Need yeh... then yeh need ta go say sorry to yer brother.”
“Henny, gonna need yeh ta never say those two things in the same sentence again.” Happy she seems to be coming around, Kenz steers her back to her bed and lays her down. “Yeh smell so good, baby... been cravin’ yeh like crazy fer over a week.”
“Prove it, then.” She rolls her hips and lets out a shaky breath as Kenz works on her pants, then yanks him down and wraps her legs around his head. Her flavor is exactly what he craves and more. There’s something addictive about pleasuring the woman he loves, and it’s better than any high on any island. After her third orgasm, he finally moves to get himself inside her and she’s so wet and welcoming he groans into her neck. Right here, this right here is why giving his seed to some random witch was worth it. It doesn’t matter if she has a kid, or if she simply knows some spell to turn his seed into her own life source. He doesn’t care, as long as Henley stays warm and alive. “Henny...”
She digs her nails into his skin, and some of that anger flashes in her eyes again. “Don’t ‘Henny’ me, yeh bastard. I was ‘sposed ta be the only one yeh had a baby with.”
Kenz huffs as he leans in to kiss her again. “Yeh want me ta put a baby in yeh, Captain?” His hips speed up and he grips her neck. “Want me ta breed yeh until yeh stomach is full and round with me come?”
“I’m a— feck,” she whispers, and whatever she’d been intending to say is lost to her fourth orgasm. Kenz doesn’t let up until she releases a fifth time, and by that point, he’s too far gone to think about anything but breeding The Anguish’s Captain. Her bed rocks hard with the sea until he’s slamming deep inside her and filling her up once more, slumping down as the last of his energy drains from his body. “Fecking hell... never let me eat mushrooms again.”
“Deal, and fer the record... I’m on top next time.” She laughs quietly and shoves him off of her, then sits up and stretches. “Now get yer ass dressed and go back to The Heartbreak. We’ll have ta get them ta moor, so yeh better hope Pogue’s in a talkin’ mood.”
“P will be fine,” Kenz argues as he stands to dress. “He woulda done the same for his boy.”
The lie does nothing to make him feel better and after a quick kiss, he takes his leave and orders them to let him aboard The Heartbreak.
Most of the crew is none the wiser to what happened, but the few that know avoid his gaze and offer him no more than a nod. By the time he’s opening Pogue’s door, he finds that he’s the one that isn’t in a talkative mood, but he bottles that in and faces his Captain. “P... about yesterday—”
His brother doesn’t glance up. “Don’t. Get back to yer damned post.”
“No.” Kenz closes the door behind him and walks over to get his attention whether he wants to give it or not. “Say what yeh want ta feckin’ say.”
“I’m charting a course back to the Port of Thieves the second we leave the Haven. Yeh’ve made it clear that Henley’s what matters to yeh now — yeh’ve chosen the wench over yer own blood enough times — so I get that yeh don’t care about what the witch did with yer seed. But if she used it for the most obvious reason, I have ta go get the kid. No Hallam is gonna be raised by some magical cunt, and I’ll go with or without yeh.” Pogue stands, finally meeting his eyes as he braces himself on the map in front of him. “Now get back to yer fecking post before I make yer place on The Anguish permanent.”
“Feck you, Captain!” Kenz stands his ground. “Are yeh mad because I did what I had to for the woman I love, or are yeh just mad I fell in love at all? Ask me what yeh really wanna ask me, P. Yeh want to know who I’d jump in front of a blade for if I had ta choose, huh?” He shoves his brother, something Kenz has only done seriously a handful of times in their entire life. “If yeh doubt it’s you, yeh don’t know me at all. You told me I could save her! I’d have never left otherwise! I’d had stood there and watched the woman bleed out on me boots if I didn’t trust yeh would survive.”
“Yet yeh still left me ta die!” Pogue roars. “Where were yeh after she healed, huh? Did yeh run back into Tiev with yer cutlasses drawn ta protect yer brother from the fecking sea god he led away from yeh? Huh?” Pogue slams his palm into Kenz’s shoulder to give himself some space. “Yeh talk a pretty game, brother, but we both know it’s a lie.”
The fact that Pogue doesn’t trust his word anymore hits him like a bucket of cold water, and he stumbles back from the force of it. Removing his hat, Kenz tosses it onto Pogue’s desk and turns toward the door. “If that’s what yeh believe, I don’t deserve ta be yer Quartermaster, Captain.”
“Fine. Then go. Just remember, that Heartbreak or Anguish, yeh sail under the Hallam flag. If anyone else woulda pulled what you did with the wise woman, I’d have killed ‘em. Tell yer new Captain I need her Quartermaster.” Pogue sits down again and lightly smacks Kenz’s hat out of the way of the map, and Kenz stares at his brother with an anger he isn’t entitled to. All of this is Kenz’s fault: he fell in love, broke their code, betrayed his brother by being more concerned with Henley when his brother was dealing with Jasterion and retrieving what he thought was his lover’s head. He doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s Quartermaster anymore. Kenz leaves without another word, trying to figure out what his next move is. This is why there’s no room for love on The Heartbreak.
~
THERE’S A BRIEF MOMENT where Pogue nearly goes after his brother. Angry or not, Kenz is the only family he has left — and he doubts that some witch spawn will change that, whether or not he’s got Hallam eyes. But the sight of his hat reminds him that he’s not in the wrong here. Maybe no one is. Maybe this is a side-effect of letting love cloud their judgement — and if he’s being honest with himself, he’d admit it’s not just what happened with Jasterion that upsets him. When he was in his darkest moment, removing what he thought was Wayke’s head from The Anguish’s bowsprit, his brother was with Henley. Would he have done anything different if the situation were reversed? He’s not sure, but he does his best to find the answer at the bottom of a bottle.
A mere four drinks in, Pogue clocks their coordinates and jots them down, because these just might be the ones he tattoos on his last free knuckle not reserved for the location of his death. This might not be a typical “first” that he’d want to memorialize, but the spot where he let his brother walk away might be the final black spot on a bloody, brutal reign. He can’t do this without Kenz, and he doesn’t want to.
Drinks five, six, and seven find him cycling through his options. He could use Henley’s Quartermaster long enough to get to the Haven to get Wayke and then get back to Port Tiev, and if he swallows enough of his pride, he could take the pardon the Ekretorian government is issuing. He and Wayke could live out their days in peace, away from the sea that Wayke hates anyway. Away from The Heartbreak and piracy.
Away from Kenz.
Or he could hand both ships over to the happy couple and hide in the Haven until Martext and his goons think he’s dead. The thought makes him grimace, so he moves on to what he sees as his final option: go find himself another lusca and let Gehenna have him.
By the time he hits drink number eight, he’s swallowing bile instead of pride, and stumbles his way above deck to get a whiff of salty sea air. “Where’s that Quartermaster? We’ve got quarters that need... mastering,” he slurs.
Kenz of all people stumbles forward so sloppily Pogue can tell he’s just as drunk. “Yeh called? Captain.”
“Sorry, I didn’t call a quim, I called me Quartermaster. Yeh quit, Kenz.” Pogue takes a step forward and realizes for the first time all night that he genuinely wants to punch his brother in the throat. “Too drunk ta find the gangplank all of a sudden? Didn’t seem to give yeh too much trouble when yeh were hoppin’ decks ta go f—” Pogue gets distracted by all the people looking at them, then jerks forward like he’s going to hit one of the new hands. “Did yeh buy tickets ta this show, Karis?”
“No, Captain.” He looks down quickly and walks off to the side, not wanting to interrupt a Hallam fight.
Kenz walks closer to pull Pogue’s attention back. “Aye, I quit. But I changed me mind. Won’t abandon yeh again, Captain. Even if yer just a quim that needs ta get his cock wet. Yeh want ta hit someone, Pogue? I’m right feckin’ here.”
“I’d hit yeh if yeh’d feckin’ stand still.” Pogue tries to plant his feet, but he’s drunk enough that he’s seeing double — maybe triple — and he’s no longer sure which one is the real Kenz and which is a lie. “Stop movin’ so I can kick yer ass.”
“Feckin’ tryin’!” Kenz yells, steadying both feet on the ground and leaning forward with his chin out, but he leans too far and collapses right onto Pogue, knocking him backwards onto the unforgiving wood.
Pogue lets out a drunken roar and flips them over, pinning Kenz to the deck and smacking him. He should’ve punched him, but this is his brother — and he’s known for decades that the best way to piss Kenz off is to smack him. “Yer a quim, Kenz. And not the kind we like.”
“Get the feck off!” Kenz shoves at him and bucks to get him off but the alcohol and slap cloud his judgement, none of his moves are correct to win a fight against Rat, let alone someone like Pogue. “Slap me again and I’ll—”
Crack!
He hits him a little harder this time, and the look on Kenz’s face is so wild and offended that Pogue can’t hold back the laugh that builds. He cackles so hard he coughs, and when that cough threatens to make him puke, he rolls off.
“Was that a feckin’ fart? Did yeh just slap me and then crop dust me, yeh feckin, quim?”
Pogue’s confusion fades when he realizes he absolutely did do that, and he howls with laughter until tears well in his eyes and he starts to wheeze. “Aye! That’s how I feel about yer threats, Kenz! So—” he blows a raspberry at Kenz and slams his fist down on the deck as the laughter renews “— take that!”
“Feck you.” Kenz flicks his Captain in the balls and rolls the opposite way to escape his retaliation but the sudden movement makes him so woozy he dry heaves on all fours. “Feck m’gonna hurl.”
Karis is there with a bucket just in time to catch the Quartermaster’s puke and he jumps back to avoid the splatter, but Pogue doesn’t care if he’s in the way or not — his sole focus is on the pain radiating from between his legs.
His hearing returns to normal just in time to hear someone ask, “These are really the guys we follow?”
“Aye. Wonder if Riston’s still under the ship hangin’ on that rope?” Renton asks, and Star’s exclamation about forgetting Riston helps to take his mind off the fading pain.
Yao whistles quietly. “He’s fish feed now. But aye, we’d follow them to the ends of Qadia and back.”
Pogue sits, then sucks in a deep breath and rolls onto his feet to help his brother up. “What he said. Kenz, if yer done yakking all over me deck, yeh should get some sleep. Yeh’ve got work ta do when the sun rises.”
Kenz takes his hand and the help that follows, then playfully shoves his hand away. “Aye, Captain... me only Captain. Don’t feckin’ forget it.”
A small smile plays across Pogue’s lips. “I’m not yer only Captain anymore, and that’s alright. I’ve been a quim, Kenz. I know it. We owe it to ourselves ta be happy, and that’s the end of it. Savvy?”
“Savvy,” Kenz agrees. Pogue can easily see he has more to say about the subject, but for once, he shuts his mouth and stumbles his way below deck.
Astaryn walks over with a small cup of water and hands it to him. “Anythin’ we should know, Captain? Yeh good?”
“Aye. Yeh don’t hand water to a pirate, Star.” He dumps the liquid onto the deck and almost immediately regrets it, but chooses to double down. “Back to work, everyone! If we’re not dockin’ on Haven shores in the next two days, I’m gonna start dumpin’ all the rum!”
The order is met with quick movements and muttered curses, but Pogue doesn’t care what they say. He shakes his hand in the air a little since it’s still stinging from those slaps, then shakes out his leg to adjust his balls. As far as Hallam fights go, that one was mild — but he’ll take it over the alternative any day.