Simply staying on her feet was a struggle. The ship tossed about wildly on the sea’s violent waves. The floor’s sudden lurch pitched her forward, nearly bringing her to her knees. She pressed her palms against the wall and inched her way back to the cabin. “Has he tired of you so soon?” A man’s voice, harsh and insolent, jarred her. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled to attention. She didn’t recognize the voice, but the speaker’s contempt was clear. An insistent warning surged through her brain. She turned toward an unfamiliar face surrounded by a lank mop of dirty blond hair. “Who are you?” His mouth curved into a grotesque parody of a smile. He parted his lips to reveal a mouthful of teeth black with decay. Pale blue eyes raked over her as though she were a common trollop out to sell her wares. “Keeping a choice piece like you all for himself must’ve worn the cap’n out,” he mocked. “Pity the bastard tired of ye.” He fixed her with a ravenous stare.
