Gods knew he didn’t need people who were meant to be his allies, albeit temporary ones, attacking him. His hands tightened. Trapped on a ship full of enemies, under attack, there was no way he wouldn’t lose control.

Getting them on-side, perhaps even befriending them, that was his only option.

He took a deep breath. He needed a distraction and to warm her to him: let’s get this over and done with hadn’t been an auspicious start.

“Why does FitzRoy send you to buy and sell supplies and cargo? Isn’t it the quartermaster’s job?”

She lifted her chin. “Fae charm gets good prices.”

“Huh.” Frowning, he examined her again. “So, you’re gifted.”

He almost said too, but he bit back the word. He could count on one hand the number of people who knew he was fae-touched. If the Navy knew, he’d be locked in sickbay working under a surgeon, rather than commanding his own ship, catching pirates. They’d see him as just another commodity. Outside of the Navy, many others treated healers like chattel to be bought and sold—or stolen, especially on the high seas.

He narrowed his eyes at Vice—nothing about her appearance said she was fae-touched. No strangely symmetrical birthmark, pointed ears, sharp claws, or strange hair colour. “Oh, your eyes—that’s your fae mark.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “You noticed that, then?”

“The first time we met they were turquoise, the other day they were steel-blue, today they’re more of a true blue, flecked green. I thought it was a trick of the light.”

“They usually match the sea that day—at least that’s what Perry says.”

“I’d heard rumours the notorious Lady Vice was a sea witch, but I thought it was all exaggeration to make a good story.”

She shrugged, eyes on the road ahead. “Some of it is. For example, I can’t call down a bolt of lightning from a clear sky like this and strike you where you stand.” She gave him a smirk. “Lucky for you.”

Still annoyed at him, then.

Well, he had taken over her cabin, so that was probably fair. Though he’d done her the favour of tidying it. The first time he’d walked in, he’d thought the place had been ransacked in the fight. But when she hadn’t commented on it, he’d realised she was just that messy. How did anyone think in such an environment?

The way she’d snatched that book from him, she wasn’t going to thank him for making the place shipshape any time soon.

They hadn’t walked much further in un-companionable silence before the looks started. Glowers from the shadows of a tavern door. Glinting eyes beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Even a sneer as one woman crossed their path.

Perhaps that was just how they treated newcomers in Nassau.