Blackjack Wayward (The Blackjack Series) Read Online Free

stumbled back, almost losing my footing, and fell to one knee, ready to strike. The warrior howled in pain, retracting the smashed tentacle, still holding the crumpled remains of the bladed fist. His limb was a rended pulp of flesh and black, gooey blood. He stepped back defensively, cradling his injured limb.
    The fight’s momentum had swung my way and I charged him, eager to inflict some pain. To his credit, he swung the mace, but it was a haphazard, desperate maneuver and I batted it aside without breaking stride. The warrior’s eyes widened as I grabbed the shoulder straps of his armor and slammed my skull into his hideous face. The explosion of blood almost blinded me, black liquid spraying onto my face and chest, but I wasn’t done. I picked up his dazed form with my fingers clenched around his neck, hefting his entire frame with just my left hand, and I reared back, imagining a point past his skull and aiming for it.
    “Et’rethagg!” the captain shouted, stepping forward and drawing her blade. I almost hit the guy anyway, Despite being semi-conscious, the beaten monster clawed at my wrist with his undamaged hand. I eased my grip on his neck and let him collapse to his knees, still holding his damaged tentacle arm.
    The crowd was silent for the first time, though a few of the tougher fellows drew their swords or pistols, unsure what the captain had in mind for me. My defeated foe gawked at me in awe. I guess the idea of an unarmed convict smacking him down with such authority was alien to him. Tough shit.
    “You’re all right,” I said, braving a smile. “So who’s next?” I taunted. I was tired and a bit bloody, but starting to get my second wind. If I had to take the whole host, if I had to fight all fifteen or so that had come on the longboat, I’d most likely die, but they’d regret ever tangling with me.
    “No reason to be scared,” I continued, taking a few steps toward them. “I’m Blackjack, and I got all the time in the world.”
    I expected that to incite them into fury, goad some of the dumber ones into charging. I was hoping to hurl a couple off the narrow shard before the cannier fighters closed on me, but what I wasn’t ready for was the confusion and stupefied dread that was clear despite their fundamentally alien features.
    The captain lowered her sword, “Brackshock?” she asked, and I saw terror in the back of her throat, noticed her take a half step back.
    “That’s right, angel,” I told her. “I’m Blackjack. Brackshock,” I added, pounding a fist on my chest.
    I was expecting them to run off and board the long boat, to rush their ship and bombard me at range with the heavy guns she sported on either side. Conversely, they could charge me, try to overwhelm me and hope for a lucky shot. Instead, they did the last thing I expected. They roared in adulation, sheathing their weapons and surrounding me as if I had hit a walk-off homerun. I expected it to be an attack; a strategy to lower my defenses, but the conglomerate of disparate species mobbed me, saluting me and clambering over each other just to get to touch me. Even the warrior I had defeated came up to me and placed his massive, clawed hand on my shoulder in salute, though I could barely hear what he said over the clamor of his companions. The imp girl wound through the crowd and jumped into my arms, kissing me deeply and drawing the laughter of everyone with whatever she said.
    The crew parted for the captain to approach. She ambled up to me, motioning for the imp to leave my side, and then waved another of the crew closer. This was the fellow she had spoken to earlier, who from a distance looked mostly human, but up close, it was clear he was nothing of the sort. His head was much taller, oblong with an oversized forehead. His eyes were white, lacking an iris, and he had no ears beneath his long white hair. I saw what looked like chin whiskers jutting from his jaw line, but as he came closer, I noticed his mouth