Alchemy of Blood. Olga Shakirovna Isyanova
to let you go alone in case something goes wrong,” Frey said anxiously.
Selene smiled and patted her friend’s silky hair, “Go get some supplies for the road now, and meet me here later.”
Frey sighed and, with one last incredulous glance at the pirate ship, headed towards the tavern, where loud voices, music, and drunken laughter could be heard.
Selene headed for the ship. The deck was almost empty, and most of the crew must have been partying in the tavern. The girl saw only a few sailors on board, busy loading barrels and crates. The process was led by a man wearing a gray-green fishskin vest over his naked body. His blond hair, tied back in a ponytail, contrasted with his weather-beaten, tanned face.
Selene decided to approach him.
“Good evening, sir,” she said to the man. “Can you tell me where I can find the captain?”
He turned to her, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. A mother-of-pearl seashell bobbed in his left ear. His yellow-green eyes looked strange to her: the light from the streetlights reflected off the rims that encircled his dark pupils. He smelled of sea salt and fish scales. The pirate chewed thoughtfully on a toothpick, a frown creasing the corners of his eyes.
“The captain is in his cabin, but I’m afraid he’s not in the mood for girls right now,” the man said, running his eyes appreciatively over her figure and slender waist, which was encased in a black leather corset.
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