A Pirate's Curse (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix) (24 page)

As he walked away
, Emily clasped her hands together. “Oh, Hannah, he’s divine! I think he’s so handsome!” She looked around and lowered her voice. “I heard he used to be a pirate!”

“Emily,” her mother scolded.
“’Tis not ladylike to spread gossip. I’m sure he was a merchant sailor and not a pirate. I do apologize, Hannah.”

Emily blushed.
Hannah squeezed Emily’s arm. “No apology’s necessary, Mrs. Parkington. I’ve heard similar rumors, as well.”

Emily gave her a grateful smile
. A young Navy sailor asked Emily to dance and her eyes sparkled.

Jacques
returned with two cups of punch. He leaned over to give her the punch and his gaze fell between her breasts. She wanted to snatch one of the cups and throw it in his face. He handed one to Mrs. Parkington who thanked him. “Hannah?”

“I don
’t want anything, thank you.”

He placed
the punch on a nearby table. The orchestra began to play and he clasped her hand. “Shall we?” Once again, he refused to give her a chance to answer and whirled her out onto the dance floor. As before, he held her too close. She had to get away from him.

“Um, Jacques, I
feel dizzy.”

He gently clasped her chin and peered into her eyes.
“Maybe you need something to eat,
ma chere
.”

“No I think I just need to rest for a minute.”

“Well, I suppose…”

Her father made his way to the orchestra and motioned
for them to stop. She tensed as the room fell silent. The noose tightened around her throat, choking her.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” her father said, his voice booming over the crowd. “Welcome to the Governor’s Ball. I’d like to thank our host, my brother, Governor Michael Knight.” The guests clapped as her uncle bowed to them. He nodded towards Hannah and Jacques. “I’d also like to announce the engagement of my daughter, Miss Hannah Knight, to Monsieur Jacques D’Aubigne.”

At the guests’ applause,
Hannah curtsied, but she gazed at the double doors leading to the terrace. With a quick dash, she’d be out of here. Like a dutiful daughter, she smiled.

Jacques bowed, smiling triumphantly. She wanted to dump the punch bowl over his head.

As she made her way for an escape,
Mrs. Parkington blocked her and patted her arm. “You’re so lucky, my dear. Many of these girls had their sights on him, and he left nothing but broken hearts.”

“Oh, I just find myself so lucky,” she
grumbled. Mrs. Parkington gave her a surprised look, but Hannah couldn’t have cared less. Her patience had run out.

Her father raised his voice over the clamor of his guests.
“Guests, dinner’s being served outside on the lawn.”

A large banquet table filled with
crisp vegetables, fresh baked bread, and ripe mangoes, was laid out for the guests to partake. At the aroma of charcoaled meat, her appetite vanished. “I’m not hungry.”

“You need to
eat,” Jacques ordered. Hannah lifted her chin. As if he could force her to eat.

She sat at a table with Jacques, her uncle and her father
, gulping down two glasses of wine and only picking at her food with a fork.

Her uncle’s worried voice startled her. “Are you all right Hannah? You’ve not touched your food.”

She licked her lip
s. “My stomach’s a little queasy.”

“You’
ve had too much wine, Hannah,” her father scolded. “Eat something.”

She pushed her plate away.
“I said I’m not hungry.”

After dinner, the ball resumed.
Once again, Jacques whirled and twirled her out on to the floor until she was dizzy. Obviously, he didn’t care about her being ill. Not like Kane.

Before she knew it, she was outside on the terrace.
Fresh air hit her face. She frowned. How did they get out onto the porch?

Jacques
dragged her behind a large six-foot tropical bush next to the house and pinned her shoulders to the wall. “Hannah, you seem to be having difficulty? You keep stepping on my foot. You’re drunk, no?”

She pushed on his chest
.

“No,” he said
, leaning closer. His cold lips caught hers, forcing her mouth. Wine coated his darting tongue. She couldn’t breathe and tried to turn her head, but his kiss became more vigorous. He pressed his body against her, his arousal pushing against her thigh. She kneed him, but he laughed as he pushed her legs apart.

He snatched her hands and pinned them over her head with one hand.
His other hand reached inside her bodice. His icy fingers twisted and pinched her nipples. Angry tears ran down her cheeks.

No. No. No.

She
drew on her power and concentrated on moving the dagger. He slid his hand down her rib cage and bunched her dress up, slowly allowing the cold air to rush over her naked legs. She squirmed and he groaned. She bit down hard on Jacques’s tongue. Blood seeped into her mouth.

He jerked his back and licked his lips. “Do that again, and you’ll see what will happen.”

“Then
—”

H
e kissed her hard, silencing her. His body squashed her against the plant, the branches scratching her back, and the clay pot bit into her calves. His hand slipped into bodice again.

I’
ve to stop this.
Hannah stomped his foot. “Ow.”

He limped and she darted away.
The dagger appeared in her hand and pointed it at him. “Stay away from me.”

He stilled.
“Where did you get that?”

She clutched the dagger tighter.
“If you come near me…”

He glared at her and
the dagger. “Oh, I’ll come near you whenever I want.”

He lunged for
the dagger, and she slashed his hand.

“
Bitch,” he snarled. He seized her left wrist and yanked her to him. She sucked in her breath at his blazing eyes and curling lip.

Without thinking of the consequences,
Hannah raised the dagger high over her head, and plunged it into his chest. He screamed and released her wrist and staggered, clasping the dagger embedded in his chest. Closing his eyes, he fell to the ground, his hands fell limply to his side. She stared at his motionless form.

Damn
.

With a shak
y hand, she ripped the dagger out of his chest. Blood darkened his white shirt. He gurgled and went silent. For sure, she’d be hung.

Not wanting to leave the dagger, she wiped it clean on his sleeve and slid it back under her garter.
 

A
n explosion pealed through the night. Cannonballs flew over her head and slammed into her Uncle’s stables. Wood splintered into a thousand pieces. Horses whined to get out.

At another cannon blast, she scanned the harbor. The
Fiery Damsel
.

A black mass of bats he
aded straight towards her uncle’s mansion. Hannah’s heart thumped hard, threatening to explode. The blood drained from her face. Her hands turned to ice and her feet refused to move. The nightmare was happening again. 

She
blinked and tore her gaze from the moving cloud of bats. Lifting her skirts, she ran. The pungent smell of sulfur stained her lips and she coughed. She stumbled over the hem of her skirt, but kept moving. People yelled and screamed behind her. She glanced over her shoulder.

Admiral Parkington
drew his sword. “Call for the garrison!”

Soldiers fired at bats while others engaged in hand-to-hand combat with red-eyed pirates. Hannah shook. The
Dolphin
all over again.

Her stomach turned at ripping flesh and the gurgling cries as the vampires feasted on their victims. Blood dripped down the pirates'
chin as they drank from Hannah’s guests.

“Hannah,
” a male voice called. She slowed her pace and scanned the horizon, but couldn’t make out the location of the voice. Men and women were running, screaming. Someone called her again. Was that her uncle? Where were her uncle and father?

Bats descended onto men and women like locus.
Mrs. Parkington screamed and beat at a bat, biting her neck. As blood trickled down her cleavage, she fell to her knees and her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Hannah wanted to help her, but Mrs. Parkington’s face paled and she collapsed.

“Mother,” Emily screamed. Bats flapped around her, pulling on her hair, and she shooed them away, but the bats c
hanged into red-eyed men. Emily’s teary eyes widened. A pair of vampires dragged her behind a bush to have their way with her.

Hannah scanned the people.
“Father, where are you?”

She
picked up her pace, dashing down the gravel driveway, past the gates. Was father taken? What about uncle? Maybe if she hid in the forest, she could help.

Through the smoke, a man
rode a dapple-gray horse into the fray, his sword drawn. She stopped. The man had a black hair, wide shoulders. He turned. Her heart soared, tears brimmed in her eyes. He was here. Freedom was only a moment away. 

“Kane
!” She screamed as she ran towards him.

Two red-eyed men sprinted up to his horse
. One threw a rock at the horse’s hindquarters. The horse bucked and Kane fell to the ground. The two pirates descended upon him.  

“No,” Hannah screamed.
Firing cannons and shrieks blocked out her cry.

She drew on her power and turn
ed her palms toward the men. A reckless carriage swerved around her. The driver swore, but Hannah remained rooted in her spot.

She concentrated on the shorter pirate. Her hair blew around her, tingles ra
ced over her. The sword flew out of the man’s hand and landed at her feet. He blinked, looked at his hand and scanned the ground, backing up to a nearby tree.

Hannah focused on a
branch and flicked her wrist. The branch cracked and broke, hitting the short pirate, knocking him to the ground. One against one. A fair fight. Hannah dropped her tired arms, breathing hard, and grinned.

His arm bleeding
, Kane jumped to his feet with his sword in his hand and charged the larger pirate. Their swords clashed. The pirate lunged. Kane spun around on his heels, lifted his sword and sliced off the man’s head. The pirate toppled, dead. Was that the way to kill them? By decapitation? 

More cannons fired.
“Kane,” she called, but the deafening noise shrouded her voice. She waved her arm and ran toward him. Someone grabbed her from behind and threw her over his shoulder. She pounded her fists onto a hard back, screaming. “Kane!”

Kane
glanced up and charged. Her captor tossed her into a carriage. She clambered to get up, but her heart stopped. Jacques D’Aubigne glared. “So,
mademoiselle
, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Hannah lurched for the door handle.
“No, let me go.”

A pistol went off
outside and the carriage horses bolted. Hannah slammed into the opposite seat. Pain gripped her back. Kane was out there. She was so close to being with him again. This couldn’t be happening. She reached for the door handle again, but a sword slowly edged under her chin, forcing her back against a seat. “You,
ma chere
, are going nowhere.”

Hannah glared.

Jacques tilted his head.
“Those were the pirates you were talking about?”

“What do you think?”

He
grasped his chest and coughed. Blood trickled down his chin. She suppressed a grin. 

“You
tried to murder me. If the dagger was any closer, you’d have gotten my heart. You’ll pay for what you’ve done to me.”

She shuddered, but held Jacques’ fierce gaze and
leaned back against the seat. “They’ll find you, you know.” Her hand slipped under her dress and took the dagger out from the garter tied around her thigh. “You can’t kill them. You’d be better off letting me go so they’ll not come after you.”

He half smirked.
“I doubt it. I don’t give up what’s mine without a fight.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not fooling me, Hannah. You want me to release you so you can return to O’Brien. I assure you, I’ll never do that. You’re mine. You’ll soon learn at the
Sorcière de Mer
what happens when you betray me.”

“Yes, you will.”
She aimed the dagger at him. “Release me.”

He pressed the sword deeper into her throat, pressing her head back.
“Drop it.”

Hannah
gripped the dagger tight. The sword dug into her neck and pricked her, wetness trickled down her skin. She swallowed, the dagger slowly slipped out of her fingers, clattering onto the floor.

Jacques nodded his head.
“Now don’t move.”

Hannah
obeyed. Trapped. Again.

She glanced out the window and sagged
down against the back seat.

Jacques never lowered his sword
. The blasting cannons and the people’s screams grew fainter as the carriage rode away. She kept hoping to see Kane ride up on the dapple-gray horse again, pistol drawn, aiming it at Jacques’ smirking face, but he never came. She was on her own.

When the carriage came to stop,
Jacques lowered the sword.

Hannah
jumped out of the carriage and dashed down the road. The thunder of horse hooves followed close behind. A hand yanked her arm, pulling her off her feet and across the horse’s back. Pain burst through her gut from landing upon the animal’s withers. She struggled to get free.

Rough hands hauled her down
. She turned to see Dubois sitting on a large black stallion. Jacques spun her around and scowled. “Dubois,” Jacques said. “Take her below. We need to be prepared for an attack and I can’t worry about her running off.”

Dubois slid off the horse and dragged her into the house. She slapped his hand, but he held her tight. And when she slipped on the hardwood floor, Dubois tossed her over his shoulder, knocking the breath out of her and slapped her behind. She winced.

“
So, you like to play rough,
chere
? The master likes to play rough, too. After he gets through with you, you’ll be as docile as a lamb.”

S
he shuddered at his menacing laugh. He lugged her down a flight of stairs. Torches lit their way, revealing cracked stone walls stained with black splotches. Coldness gripped her. She choked on the stench of decay and rot.

Dubois
carried her into a torch-lit room. Whips, iron cudgels and clubs hung on the wall. Two gruesome torture racks filled the middle of the room. Dark stains covered the dusty stone floor beneath each device. But what caught her attention was the large wooden breaking wheel covered with metal spikes.

Dubois
threw her into a dingy cell, slamming her into a wall. Pain exploded on the back of her head. He snatched a key off the wall and locked her inside. “You can’t leave me in here! They’ll find me.”

“Who?” 
He snickered at her as he turned to leave, “No one knows you’re here.”

“The crew of the
Fiery Damsel
, you fool.”

He put his hands on his hips and
heartily laughed. “They’ll not harm us.”

Hannah
narrowed her eyes. She forced her anger down, drew on her power, and concentrated on a mallet hanging on the wall. It leaped off the wall and slammed onto his foot.

“Damn it!” He
hopped on one foot. “How did that happen?” He threw the mallet across the room and limped up the stairs.

She smiled
.

She concentrated on the
cell door, drawing on her power. She flicked her wrist. The cell door rattled. She grabbed the bars and pushed, but it remained solid. She glanced at the keys hanging on the wall. Drawing upon her floor, her palms facing the wall, she stepped back. The keys swung back and forth, but refused to move. Wetness trickled down her upper lip, tasting of metallic blood. Weariness gripped her. “No,” she groaned.

Her arms hung at her side.
She stepped back her palms facing the door, and pulled on her power. A flicker rose through her. Dust moved around the door, but the door remained closed, the lock firm. She tried again and again, but her legs wobbled and she fell to the floor. Her shaking arms collapsed at her side. She’d spent her power saving Kane, but then wasted the last of it dropping the mallet on Dubois’ foot.

Fool.
             

Panting, she wiped her nose, staining her arm.
She refused to cry. Breathe. Just Breathe.

She
held her head. It hurt like hell. She leaned against the cold wall to block out the pain and before she knew it, passed out.

She woke with a start. What time was it?
A pounding headache gripped her. She’d no idea whether it was night or day. Musket fire exploded outside. Her heart skipped a beat and she jumped. “�’Tis the
Fiery Damsel
.”

She shot to her feet and gripped the bars.
She had to get out of here. She drew on her power and flicked her wrist, but the weariness still gripped her and the door remained unmovable. Heavy footsteps came down the stairs. She froze. A silhouette of man blocked out the bottom of the stairs. She edged back away from the door, wishing to blend into the shadows.

E
very nerve tingled as she inhaled a familiar scent. Was she dreaming? Was it sandalwood?

“Bloody hell, lassie, what are you doing in there?”

She half-sobbed. “Kane, you’re really here.”

He grabbed a key dangling from the wall, out of her reach, taunting her, and opened t
he lock. She rushed into his arms and inhaled his masculine scent. He was here. He came. For her.

He kissed her deep.
She molded her body closer to his, afraid any minute he’d disappear. Her fingers clutched his shirt and tremors traveled over her.

“You are, you a
re here,” she whispered.

He
traced his finger around her mouth and thumbed away her tears. “Aye, I’m here now.”

His body crowded her against the gate, and he raked his hands deeper into her hair as he kissed her again. Her fingers explored his massive shoulders, feeling every cord of muscle and his slight movement revealed the power within him. 

Stopping, he groaned.
“Bloody Hell!” He grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Leaving
so soon? I think not.”

Jacques.

She released Kane
, determined to save him, drawing on her power and held up her palms, but her hands shook and her power refused to come. She dropped her trembling arms and clutched Kane’s hand. They were at the mercy of a devil.