Page 102 of Fallen Stars
“Fucking hell,” Enzo muttered.
Elara was already sauntering ahead, desperate for a task to take her mind off her shadows. She stopped by the nearest table of drunkards.
“Excuse me,” she began, elegantly weaving an illusion around herself. Cloak or not, she wanted to take precautions against being recognised. “Do you happen to know a Lord Adrian?”
The entire table quietened, and she felt Enzo brush her waist behind her, his warm presence an anchor.
“Pirate Lord Adrian?” a sailor stammered—one with black hair and a long scar across his cheek. “You mean Blueheart?”
“Dear gods,” Elara muttered to Enzo, who was trying not to smile.
“Blueheart because of his blue hair?” she guessed.
“No,” the sailor replied, voice rough as his crew’s eyes shone with fear. “On account of his frozen heart, if the demon even has one.”
Demon? Elara was finding it hard to connect the charming lord who had danced with her at the masquerade with this ‘demon’ the sailor spoke of.
“Tell me more—?”
“James,” the sailor replied.
“James,” Elara reiterated. “I’ve always liked a ghost story.”
Enzo pulled a chair across the floor, sitting on it and patting his lap for Elara to sit.
A thrill raced through her, as well as a slow torment. How she’d be able to last with her ass against his crotch for the next few minutes was beyond her.
She sat gingerly on his knees, admonishing the ache that hadn’t left since they were interrupted in the mirror room.
“So,” she said a little breathily, ignoring Enzo’s wicked, knowing smile as he brushed a knuckle along her elbow, “you were saying, James… The man is a demon?”
“He’s banished from Neptuna, doesn’t that say it all?” James made the sign of evil. “I’ve heard stories…that he eats maidens’ hearts, will steal your wife right from the bed you’re both sleeping in, never to be seen again.”
Another old sailor leaned forward, more gaps in his mouth than teeth. “I heard that even Scorpius fears him, and it’s why he’s no longer allowed Below.”
Elara raised an eyebrow.
“Look, where was this Blueheart last seen?” Enzo said impatiently.
The sailor’s eyes nearly popped from his skull. “You don’t want to go searching for Blueheart. Him and his crew…” he turned to look back at Elara, “Well, they’d be your worst nightmare, girly.”
Elara smirked. “I think I can take care of myself,” she drawled, shooting a glance at Enzo who, sure enough, was burning a hole between the man’s eyes—metaphorically of course.
“His crew is said to be staying a few doors down at the Hermes Inn. But Blueheart himself, well he hasn’t been seen. Could be here right now for all we know, waiting to steal and freeze the heart of the next fair maid—"
“Jim, I’m going to stop you there. Can I call you Jim?”
“Most people call me James, but—"
“Jim, you’re a gem.”
Enzo snorted at that.
“Godsspeed, Jim, and if I run into Blueheart, I’ll be sure to tell him that you and your crew spoke nothing but hishighestof praises. Here’s a midan for your trouble.”
She pressed the golden coin into the sailor’s cracked hand, his jaw slack. Then she turned to her own crew. “Time to catch a pirate.”
Chapter Thirty-Six