"Hold out your hand a bit more, Bates."

Vallin rolled his eyes. "That won't work, lads."

"Better than nothing," Everson snapped back. He reached out his hand again, through the bars, attempting to use the toenail they'd peeled from Courtley's foot to pick the lock.

Vallin almost found the nerve to laugh, glancing over at the absurd situation. He spun around slowly, searching the bricks in the wall of his cell. He ran his fingers over the concrete.

He leaned down a little to examine the brick his finger had caught on. He peeled away the moss a little. More concrete.

Sighing, he turned back around to watch Everson and Bates pick the lock. Bates dropped the toenail, and it landed outside of their cell, just far enough from reach.

"You dimwit," Everson snarled. His fingers reached for the toenail.

Vallin snorted. "Courtley's got nine more," he offered.

"You're not a big help at the moment, Captain," Everson bit out.

Vallin leaned against the metal bars, resting his wrists over the rails. "You're not going to pick a lock with a toenail. You're wasting energy."

"Energy needed for what?"

Vallin shrugged. He grinned at his first mate. "She'll be back."

At that exact moment, the door at the far end of the hallway creaked open and slammed shut.

"See? I told you," Vallin said.

She neared closer, the moonlight reaching her body. Blood had dried over her jaw, and it trickled down her arms. Her clothing was scuffed, and mud was mixing with blood over her collarbone. She looked like she'd just been in a fight.

She smiled at Vallin's words. "Told him what?"

Vallin held her gaze. He didn't let his eyes fall on the key she was spinning in her hands. "That you'd be back." He was the one locked up, but he was also the one with the leverage. "I like the blood, stunner. Can I meet the person who did that to you?"

"Dead," she replied. "All of them."

Vallin's smile slipped, but only a little. She took a step forward, her expression dipping. He did not dare to move from his position against the bars, but when she leaned forward to wrap her fingers around one of them, they were uncomfortably close.

"My mother was just murdered," she told him.

"Condolences," he replied.

"But you knew that," she said.

"I didn't know that," he answered. He made a face that said, well, maybe I did. "I simply recalled that king's assassins are only contracted out to murder adults, which you've very recently become."

She leaned a little closer, her breath hot as she said, "Do you know what her death makes me?"

"I believe that makes you the boss, stunner," he said back. Vallin marvelled at his control. He was good.

She ran her tongue over a sharp canine. He remembered the sharp feeling of it on his lips.

She tilted her head slightly to the side, reading his thoughts. "Clever man," she said. She turned away from him. "You know, I don't quite really like this island after all—it's a little small." She spun around. "You know what I do like?"

"I believe you mentioned you liked my ship," Vallin replied. He caught Everson's gaze in the cell over. The rest of the crew was deadly silent.

She gave him a look, now a few feet away.

Vallin smiled at her.

"I let you out, you take me on board," she said. "Strategist."

"No," he said.

"I'm plenty capable."

"I'd agree. But I'm not inclined to take your demands."

"You're not inclined to do anything but starve if I walk out of here."

"Which you won't. You need my ship."

"And you need my key."

Vallin fumbled for a response. If she just took a moment longer to reply, he'd be able to keep up.

"I'll take you on board," he compromised. "I won't give you strategist."

She raised an eyebrow just enough for Vallin to catch it.

"I'll make you a crew member, nothing else," he told her.

She tilted her head. "Sexism?"

He mimicked her. "Conformity."

She glanced at him, her golden eyes focused. Then she twirled away, giving him a wave as she walked back down the hallway. "I'll see you in hell, then, Captain. And not a moment sooner."

Everson lurched forward, his body slamming into the rails. He gritted his teeth.

Vallin only held up his hand to his crew as they gave him bewildered looks. Of course they all wanted her on the crew. The men could fight over her and Tailsley and Miller could hate her. She'd be an asset—skill like hers, a mind like hers. Plus, they needed her to get out of this ridiculous shitshow.

Vallin ordered the silence of his crew with his raised hand. He watched her walk away. Watched her reach for the door at the far end of the hallway. Open it, then pause.

She turned around with a stunning smile. "You read people that easily, do you?" she asked.

Vallin tilted his chin down to meet her gaze. "Only you," he replied.

She walked closer again. She smiled, canines sharp and deadly. He knew it took all her pride to say, "Then I guess you're the boss, love."

Vallin lifted his chin, accepting that. "You let us out, and you guarantee we get off this island. You get us our ship back, and you do it all without a single one of my crew getting killed. Should one of them die—even accidentally—you pay the price."

"I can get them out," she told him.

"And the ship out. You get us away from this island. You take us to Sirennia."

She tilted her head. "I can do that. Although I'd like to point out it'd be smart to get the hell out of Siren waters."

"Good thing you don't make the decisions. Speaking of, if you manage to complete all those requests, I'll give you crew status. Not strategist."

She narrowed her eyes at him. She took a step closer and threaded her hands through the bars.

"Deal," she said.

Vallin reached out to take her hand. He was an honourable man. He'd stick to his deal. Maybe not quite the way he'd presented it, but more or less the same.

He shook her hand. Her nails pressed into the back of his palm, her eyes on his. When she took her hand away, the key was in his. He glanced down at it.

She turned around again. She spoke as she walked away, leaving Vallin to unlock his cell and toss the key to Everson, "The building's not asleep," she said. "Everyone's awake, and there are people at every door."

Vallin tossed the key to the other side. He slid out the door, followed by Bates, Courtley and the other half of the crew. He felt freedom return, control take up in his hands again. He gestured to two of them to get Trelly's body—no member of the Avourienne would be left in a cell. They would all return to the water, dead or alive.

"Weapons?" Britter asked, coming up beside Vallin. His hair was messy, and there were purple half-circles under his eyes.

"Sirens don't use weapons," Silta called as they followed. She turned around, tapping her canine with her finger. "They use these." She stopped in front of the door.

Vallin chose not to look. "And those who aren't Sirens?" he wondered.

"Anyone who isn't a Siren will have a knife or a pistol," she replied. "I have four knives on me; the best on your crew get them. The others stay out of the way."

Vallin went to point out his best, but she'd already found them. She tossed one to Britter, one to Courtly, one to Jackson and the final one to Vallin.

"None for me?" Everson asked, leaning against the stone wall.

Silta didn't look at him, but she knew. "Use your hands," she replied.

Everson grinned. He liked that.

Silta footed the door open behind her and turned down the hallway. "I'm going first." She paused at a turn in the hallway. "The four with knives are going to trail one corridor length behind me." She glanced at Vallin. "You keep your face down. Nobody can see you. If they do, everything goes wrong." She turned around the corner.

Standing at the end of the next hallway was a man, a pistol at his belt and his eyes wide with realization at the sight of them.

They watched the man disappear around the corner.

Silta turned around."New plan," she said.