A Pirate's Curse (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix) (14 page)

Damp and darkness
enveloped the belly of the
Fiery Damsel
. The only light was the glow of lanterns shining on the rack, thumb screws, stocks, iron masks and shackles coated with gore. Lark’s hair hung in his eyes and sweat and dried blood coated his half-naked body. His torn trousers were more like rags than clothes. He stared at the floor covered with hardened human carnage, dirt and salt and curled his toes, hating the filth blackening his feet. He yanked on the chains securing his wrists to the wall again, but he only managed to cut deeper into his flesh. He inhaled dead briny air and his own foul body odor. Had it only been a week ago since Palmer and his men ambushed him and imprisoned in this hellhole?

H
ard footsteps treaded down the stairs. A rock formed in his gut and he forced his trembling legs to hold up his weight as he braced his shoulders back and waited for more pain, humiliation and hopelessness. Palmer never failed to disappoint him. 

Out of the murkiness, the dark silhouette of Quinton Palmer emerged.
His two lackeys trailed him. Lark glared and spit on the floor, hitting Palmer’s boot. 

Palmer swung
, slamming his fist into Lark’s jaw, knocking his head into the wall. Pain exploded on the right side of Lark’s face. Blood drenched into his mouth. He glared at Palmer through blurred vision. One day he’d stake the bastard’s heart, but not today. Today he was Palmer’s slave.  

“Now, boy,
I told you about disrespecting me.”

Clenching his fist,
Lark pulled on the chains again.

Palmer chuckle
d low, one chilling Lark’s bones. He narrowed his eyes. “I want you to do what I am asking.”

Lark sucked in the blood
pooling in his mouth and spat. He grinned as crimson splattered onto Palmer’s white shirt. “Go to hell.”

Palmer wiped the blood off his shirt and
licked his fingers. “Blood. I never grow tired of the taste. It gives me power.”

Twisted fuck. Ignoring the nausea
growing in his stomach, Lark clamped his mouth shut and stood tall, sticking out his chest and lifting his chin.

“
Do as I say or die,” Palmer warned.

“Quit talking about it and do it.”

“Oh, I will. No doubt about that. Witches are nothing but filthy liars. Ready to betray decent folks the first chance you get.”

Lark bit back a retort.
He had to be jesting? He considered himself to be decent folk?

Palmer leaned closer and yanked his hair.
“You’ll talk boy.”

Lark
inhaled Palmer’s breath and shuddered. It stank worse than the damp, moldy brig more like rotting meat left out on the deck too long. He’d never get used to the stench.

Releasing his hair, Palmer nodded at Stevenson.
“Do it.”

A crank creaked.
An evil grin spread on one of the lackey’s grimy face.

“No,” Lark y
anked on his chains.

On the rack, Ronan Macmillan was stretched out. As the lackey turned the crank, the chains inched and creaked, stretching Macmillan’s arms and legs. Macmillan growled against the pain, baring his teeth. The other vermin smashed a bludgeon in his gut. Macmillan arched in and released a muffled groan.

Lark jerked and pulled.
Blood streamed down his arms from his raw wrists. He mumbled a spell under his breath, but the
yari
compressed around his neck and crushed his windpipe. The words died on his lips and he gasped for breath.

Palmer shook his head.
“How many times must you go through this boy?”

The pressure lessened, and Lark
inhaled. Panting, he mumbled, “You bastard.”  

Palmer stepped closer to Lark.
“Tell me what I want to know. Do another spell and you’re dead. Remember, you can be replaced.”

Mariah’s face flashed in Lark’s mind
. She was powerful, more power than Hannah, the woman Palmer was hunting. But could she escape his wrath? Mariah would never survive in this forsaken place. Palmer would do worse to her. A woman on board the
Fiery Damsel
would be the whim of every man. She'd receive no mercy.

Gritting his teeth, Lark said, “You leave my sister alone.”

“Then tell me what I want to know.”

Macmillan screamed.
Swallowing, Lark slumped and the chains dugs into his wrist. He lowered his head. “They’re heading for Saint Kitts. That’s all I know. I swear.”

Palmer frowned.
“Why are they going to Saint Kitts?”

Macmillan yelled.
Lark’s fingers gripped his manacles at his agonizing cry. He lifted his head and gazed at Palmer, “I won’t tell you anything unless you stop torturing him.”

“I could order the
yari
to kill you.”

He met Palmer’
s gaze, his chest heaving. “Then do it. But by the time you find my sister, the
Soaring Phoenix
will be long gone. The choice is yours.”

Palmer glared
his disgusting water eye leaked and made it impossible to read what the pirate was thinking. Lark held his breath. Had he just condemned his sister and Macmillan to hell? 

Palmer held up his hand.
“Very well.” The creaking stopped.

Lark
glanced at Macmillan, his bleeding body tore into Lark’s soul.

“Well?”

Lark glared.
“They’re taking the girl to marry her fiancé, Jacques D’Aubigne.”

“D’Aubigne?
Mmmm, interesting.” Palmer gripped Lark’s matted hair and yanked his head back again. “If you’re lying to me...” He shoved Lark’s head into the wall and turned away. He waved his hand and his lackeys followed. As he clunked up the stairs, he taunted, “But for now, I’ll leave you with your pain before I order you to heal yourself.”

The footsteps faded.
Macmillan released a ragged breath.

Lark moistened his lips.
“Macmillan, I’m sorry. The bastard should torture me.”

“He knows you would
not talk, mate” Macmillan answered in a strained voice. “You got to quit trying to cast any spells or do you’ve a death wish?”

Lark twisted his sore neck
. “There’s got to be a way to get free.”

“A way to break a
spell from Coaybay?” Macmillan snorted. “You’re wasting your time. But you can’t give in to Palmer. Do you think he suspects that you’re holding back?”

“No.
He thinks I only have visions. Let us hope it stays that way.” Lark closed his eyes. The
Soaring Phoenix
headed for Saint Kitts. The girl’s powers were growing stronger. If she failed to control them, she’d end up with Palmer’s sword in her gullet.

Hannah
sat on the bow gazing at the approaching island. The winds relentlessly blew strands of her hair into her face, aggravating her already annoyed mood. She braided her hair into a loose French braid, but stubborn strands fluttered around against her cheeks and into her eyes.

Her hands gripped her trousers and she sighed.
Soon, she’d be forced to wear gowns and act the proper lady again, be trapped in a world of rules where women were expected to follow a man’s every command. Her father's world wasn’t her world. Why couldn’t father understand this?

Aboard the
Soaring Phoenix
, she had more freedom than she had her entire life. Despite that, a man made a decision for her, disregarding her feelings. She frowned. What exactly were her feelings? She’d never experienced anything for a man before. No one had ever made her feel so protected, wanted. Not like Kane. How could she marry another man after Kane?

She bristled.
Obviously, Kane didn’t have the same feelings for her. She was a virgin and had gypsy powers, a liability. Maybe he was more like her father than she had hoped.

“Hannah.
”

Hannah jumped and whipped around.

Kan
e shuffled toward her. Pain gripped his face, but he didn’t falter. His suffering was her fault.

He sat next to her
, resting his hands on his knees. She stared at his hand, hoping he would clasp hers. Wishing she was brave enough to grab his. The water sloshed onto the hull of the ship and spray graced her face. ’Twas cool, refreshing, but contrasted with the disappointment drawing closer.

T
he island grew nearer. She could make out swaying palm trees. She could feel her father’s chains wrapping around her ankles and wrists, imprisoning her in his world. Soon, she’d be separated from Kane and venturing into life she didn’t want. What life did she want?

Not knowing what to say, she blurted, “Are you going to release my father?”

“No, he broke his word. I warned him if he tried anything again.” Kane leaned closer to her. “What happened with you and William?”

Her heart pounding, s
he glanced at him and his eyes held her captive. She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“I'm not daft, lass. I see the way he looks at you.” His face clouded. “I need to know if there’s something between you.”

She shook her head.
“No, there’s nothing between us. I swear.” Was that true? Was there nothing between her and William? She gritted her teeth. “Why should you care? You’re sending me away to marry another man.”

He narrowed his eyes.
“Aboard this ship, I need you to keep your distance from him.”

“Why?”

“’Tis causing tension between my brother and I, and I can’t have this discontent on the ship.” He ran his finger down her cheek and she shivered. “Agreed?”

S
he shrugged. “Obviously, I don’t have many choices. If I do, are you going to throw me in the brig with my father?”

“No. Your father threatened to attack me. I warned him what would happen if he caused any trouble aboard this ship.”

“But I stabbed you.”

“’Tis different.”

“Is there anyone else you don’t want me to consort with? Cook? Amadi?

He chewed his lip.
“Any man who looks at you.”

She gritted her teeth.
“Including Jacques?”

His eyes darkened.
“If…”

She tilted her chin.
“I don’t want to hear excuses.”

He growled.
His hand slipped around her and pulled her to him, his lips parted. She closed her eyes, wanting this, yearning to taste him again. Her fingers slid up his broad chest, and gripped his massive shoulders, feeling the slight tweak of muscles as he moved. He gently opened her mouth with his tongue, and his kiss became hungry, fierce, drawing the breath from her. She’d never tire of his spicy taste.

Why did he want to send her away?
To be with another man? Was she just another conquest?

She swallowed the hurt building in her chest and concentrated on kissing him, desperate to mold herself into his hard chest, giving her will to him.
Embracing him tighter as a terrifying desire built inside her, something she’d never experienced. All she knew was she didn’t want this to end. 

His arousal hardened
, pushing against her thigh and she stiffened. He wanted her. But he was a man and men desired women, regardless of their feelings for them. Hadn’t her two older married sisters, Theresa and Madeline, warned her of this? They were both married and living in London, living the life father wanted for them, living like good Christian women. But she wasn’t her sisters. Neither Theresa nor Madeline possessed her powers, either. Unlike Hannah, they were father’s favorite and thus, married men of their choosing.

Wait.

What was she thinking?
Marrying a pirate? As if Kane was the marrying kind. But did she care? No. Once again, she broke all of Father’s rules—don’t use her powers, don’t dally with scoundrels, don’t be brazen. Kissing a pirate, a sinful, delightful pirate was breaking rule number two. She wrapped her fingers in his thick hair, pinning him to her mouth, not wanting to break off the kiss. His hand skimmed down her stomach and slipped up inside her shirt. He cupped her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple. She moaned and he deepened his kiss. Her hands caressed down his shoulders and she pulled him closer, gripping his back. He winced and stiffened.

“Did I hurt you?” She dropped her arms to her side. What had she been thinking? She stabbed the man last night and now, she was ravishing him. “I’m so sorry.”

“’
Tis nothing, lass,” he insisted, but his face paled. Sweat trickled down his face and he wiped his forehead. He closed his eyes and tilted forward. Hannah grabbed his bicep with both hands to keep him steady.

She glanced over Kane’s shoulder
. Doc stood nearby with his arms folded across his chest and a frown pasted on his face. “Capt’n.”

Kane growled, “What ’
tis it?”

“You need to be back in bed.
I can see you swaying an’ you’re about to fall overboard.”

“I don’t need a doctor,” Kane insisted.
“Kane,” Hannah half smiled. “Yes, you do. Come on. You’ve got to go back to bed.”

He stared at her.
“You’ll keep your promise?”

She lowered her voice.
“You mean about William?”

He nodded.

“I promise.” She gave him a quick peck on his lips, wanting more, but Kane needed rest. “Come on Doc,” she said, “Help me.”

Doc hurried over and they both helped Kane wobble back to his cabin.

“You’re bleeding,” Doc said.
He got Kane’s shirt off and rolled him onto his stomach.

This was her fault.
She should have insisted Kane go back to his cabin, rather than giving into her own selfish needs.

“Is it bad, Doc?”

Doc shook his head. “Needs to be stitched again. I’ll be back.”

B
lood dripped down Kane’s side. She grabbed Kane’s shirt, held it over his wound and pulled his hair away from the flooding stream. Kane moaned.

“I’
m so sorry,” she mumbled.

“Hannah,” he gritted his teeth.
“I’m immortal. It’ll heal. ’Tis my choice to get up.”

“He’ll be fine, Hannah
,” Doc said upon returning. He sat on the edge of the bed. “You look a little pale. Get some air.”

“No, I want to…” her voice faded as Doc
's needle pierced through Kane's flesh.

“Hannah, go,” Doc ordered, his voice firm.

Hannah nodded and exited the cabin. She wanted to stay, but the gushing blood turned her stomach. Aboard her father’s ship, she had stitched lashes and cuts on her father’s crew and not once had she gotten sick or flinched from the work. But she hadn’t stabbed the men, either. Nor did she have the same overpowering feelings for them as she did for Kane. She refused to name those feelings and pushed them far behind. What good would it do her? After tomorrow, Kane would be gone from her life.

Up on deck, the ship sailed toward a cove.
Her heart sank. Kane stoked so many feelings within her and she couldn’t imagine life without him. How had it come to this? A hurricane of emotions flooded her and she couldn’t discern what she felt for him or maybe too afraid to admit she cared, too afraid to ask if she could stay.

Hannah put her hands on the railing.
A long shadow fell across the ship as the
Soaring Phoenix
sailed into a cove, between two rocky cliffs. The cove was wide enough for one ship. Any ship entering would meet the
Soaring Phoenix
head on and meet a smoldering death. Did Kane plan on dropping her and her father off here? Was Saint Kitts far from the cove? Did she mean anything to Kane? She dug her nails into the railing.

The palm trees swayed and the waves slowly washed up on the white
unspoiled beach. Sea gulls flew overhead and two white storks stood on one leg. Lush green ferns and flowering bushes crowded the jungle.

“Weigh anchor,”
Sean Mallory called. 

Men ran along the deck, grabbing the moor line
s and dousing the sails overhead.

“Hello
Hannah.”

She jumped, put her hand on her chest and turned.
“Oh, William, I didn’t hear you approach.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just looking at the crystal water and the island.
Is Saint Kitts far?”

“
No, ’tis less than ten miles from here, but we’re hidden in this cove.”

“I have no say in the matter.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I don
’t want to go to Saint Kitts.”

“You can
’t stay aboard this ship. ’Tis not safe.” His harsh voice startled her.

“Because of the tension between you and Kane?”

“’Tis the least of the worries. You’re being hunted, Hannah. You must get a ship in Saint Kitts and head back to England where Palmer and Zuto can never find you.”

“You do
n’t know my father.” She chuckled wryly. “He wants me to marry Jacques D’Aubigne. I doubt he’ll heed the warning. My uncle’s the governor of Saint Kitts and my father will insist we are quite safe.”

“Then he
’s a fool.” An eclipse drew over his features. “Have you ever met Jacques D’Aubigne?”

“No.” She swallowed, not liking the scowl
upon his face. “But you have?”

“He’s more of
an acquaintance. The devil incarnate.”

She moistened her lip. “
He’s not a good man?”

“No, he used to be a ruthless pirate.
He was a slave trader and captured slaves from Africa and sold them. Palmer used to help him with his trade.  ’Twas quite lucrative until Kane sank his ship. I don’t understand why your father wants you to marry him.”

She shuddered.
Another pirate? A former slave trader? “Well, I don’t understand why Kane is sending me to marry him.”

“Lass, Kane isn’t sending you to marry Jacques. He’s sending you to Saint Kitts to secure passage to London.”

“First, he tells me to stay away from you, but then, he sends me to marry another.”

William narrowed his eyes.
“He told you to stay away from me? Why?”

She shrugged.
“He says I’m putting a wedge between you.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

She stared at him. Damn. Kane was just as bad as her father. Why should she follow his rules? After tomorrow, she’d be faced with her worst nightmare of being chained to a man she didn’t want to marry. “I can do what I want.”

A slow grin spread across his face.
“Good lass.” He trailed his hand down her arm and she took a step back, not wanting him to caress her, the way Kane did. Only Kane created an inner core of desire. With him, she fell into a bottomless chasm of desire. She still couldn’t fathom Kane was turning her over to someone else someone by the look of William was ruthless, evil. How could Kane do this? She wanted to beat him with her fists. Shake him. Do something to make him change his mind. Avoiding William’s questioning look, she gazed back at the beach. “’Tis so lovely. So, white, pure.”

“Aye, lass.”
He skimmed his knuckles against her cheek.

She
pulled away. “Don’t touch me so.”

His eyes widened, dropped his hand and sighed.
“Some of the crew is going to shore for spring water and hunting. Want to walk along the beach? Do you good.” A mischievous smile came across his lips. “There’s a nearby waterfall where you can go swimming if you like.”

She frowned, her foolish words earlier betraying her.
“I don’t know.” She chewed on her cheek. Would Kane be mad? He deserved it after what he did.