Call of the Sea (29 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Hart

BOOK: Call of the Sea
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His gaze caught on the dinghy tied to the starboard side of the ship. He hoped Nelson remembered to put clothing in it. He didn’t relish the idea of scaling the rope and charging across the deck in the buff.

He reached
The Call
without incident, swimming alongside the giant ship until it came to a stop beside Jashir’s xebec. With the crew’s attention centered on the approaching vessel, Daniel skirted around the brigantine’s rudder and darted across the short space between the ships.

Safely reaching the protection of the curve of the bow, Daniel swam toward the first wick. The flick of his tail lifted him from the water enough to light it.

With haste, he repeated the maneuver on the other side of the bow. He had about two minutes before all hell broke loose.

Daniel swam to the waiting dinghy. Surging from the sea, he dove onto the skiff. A wiggle of his round body brought him rolling safely inside the little boat.

I’m coming, Ellie.

He closed his eyes and concentrated his energy on the form he would need to rescue his wife.

***

With nothing better to do with her pent-up energy, Ellie had returned to pacing Jashir’s cabin. Her mind rushed with possible outcomes of her husband’s impending meeting with the pirate. She gasped when a particularly poorly-ending scenario flashed in her mind. Ellie shook her head, trying to wipe away the disturbing image of Daniel’s lifeless form sprawled on the deck.

Muffled voices and the scuffle of activity floated to her through the bulwark.
Daniel must be getting close.

Ellie moved as close as she could to the door separating her from seeing what was happening. Surely Jashir would come for her soon. She wrung her hands and stared a hole in the closed portal.

A deafening explosion rocked the hull, throwing Ellie backwards and scattering her thoughts to the wind. She landed on her rump with a thud. Pain shot through her ankle where the chain anchored her.
What the devil was that?

Shouting rang out from the other side of her prison door. She scrambled to her knees, using the pole to pull herself back to her feet as the ship listed to the right. Panic gripped her. She hadn’t a chance if the ship sank while she was still tethered.

A second concussion shuddered through the xebec.

Ellie grabbed tight to the post and squeezed her eyes shut.
Who is attacking us?

More shouting echoed back to her.

Moments later, the door to the cabin crashed open and Nelson rushed in, pistol drawn.

A cry of joy burst from her at the welcome sight.

“Are you hurt?” Nelson asked as he brushed past her, crossing to the desk. He shuffled papers around the surface, hunting. “Do you know where he put the key?”

“No, I was unconscious when they chained me up.” Ellie cast a quick glance at the open doorway. “Where’s Daniel?”

Nelson yanked open a drawer, fumbled through the contents. “He’s coming.”

Ellie drew up. Coming? Why wasn’t he already here?

Before she could ask what he meant, Nelson held up a brass key. “Found it!” He rushed to her side and unlocked the shackles on her wrists.

Ellie rubbed her sore flesh as he bent and released her ankle.

“I think not.” Jashir’s deadly voice froze Ellie’s heartbeat. Her head whipped up to find the barrel of a cocked pistol pointed at her chest for the second time in as many days.

Nelson lurched from his position at her knee, his own cocked flintlock swinging upward to take aim at Jashir as he stepped in front of Ellie.

A gunshot pierced the air.

Ellie screamed. The smell of gunpowder burnt her nostrils.

Nelson staggered backward and slammed into her, bringing them both crashing to the floor.

No, no, no!
Ellie struggled from beneath his heavy weight.

Crimson stained the front of her best friend’s shirt. Nelson gagged and gurgled as he gasped for air.

Ellie let loose a strangled cry. Her eyes caught on his pistol, still unfired in his quivering hand. A fireball of rage burst to life in her stomach. Blind to everything but the weapon a few inches away, Ellie lunged for the flintlock.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she whipped the gun up. Aiming at Jashir’s heart, she pulled the trigger.

Jashir’s eyes widened in surprise. He clutched at the bloody hole in his chest and dropped to his knees. A hand reached for her and went limp as he fell face first to the floor.

Dropping the pistol, Ellie scrambled back to Nelson, who struggled for every breath. She gathered up the hem of her nightgown and pressed the cloth to the bloody hole.

Nelson coughed blood as he struggled to speak.

“Easy now, you’re going to be just fine.” Kneeling over him, Ellie put all her weight on the wound. “Don’t talk, just rest. I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

His fingers curled around her wrist, drawing her gaze back to his face. “You keep your promise, El, and take good care of that child.”

Ellie watched, helpless, as her best friend took his last breath and the light disappeared from his beautiful brown eyes.

***

His wife’s panicked scream ripped through Daniel. He sidestepped his sword-yielding enemy, spun about, and sliced the man across the left flank. His gaze shot to his goal, the open door to Jashir’s cabin.

The battle had turned in their favor. The bodies of the enemy littered the decking.

A man rushed at Daniel from the right, sword swinging madly.

He met the blow with his blade, drew his cocked flintlock from his belt, and fired, blowing a hole in the man’s stomach.

Daniel stepped over his body and launched up the stairs to the quarterdeck. He found Ellie kneeling in the center of the cabin, cradling a lifeless Nelson. She rocked back and forth, whispering to herself.

When she turned her tear-streaked face toward him, her blue eyes clouded with grief, his heart lodged in his throat. Daniel stepped over Jashir’s corpse and rushed to her side. He pulled her away from Nelson’s body and wrapped his arms around her shivering blood-soaked form.

Daniel stroked her hair and pressed his lips to her ear. “I’m so sorry, El. I got here as fast as I could.”

She whimpered into his shoulder and dug her nails into his sleeves, holding onto him as if he would disappear at any moment.

The need to protect her nearly overwhelmed him with its force. Daniel held her to his chest. Emotion clogged his throat. “I heard you scream.” His voice cracked. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hurt you.” He pulled back, lifted her chin with his knuckle. He peered into her puffy red eyes. “You aren’t hurt, are you? The baby’s all right?”

Ellie tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “How did you know?”

“Nelson told me before we came after you.” Daniel shrugged off a prickle of disappointment. “Why did you hide it from me, El? Didn’t you think I deserved to know?”

She sniffed loudly and wiped at her nose with the sleeve of her nightgown. “You would have left me behind.” She dropped her gaze and chewed her lower lip. “I wanted to tell you.”

It was impossible to stay mad at her when she looked like an injured child. “I love you, Ellie, and I understand better than you think. Just like me, you can’t live without the sea. I’d never keep you from it. I swear.”

Blue eyes lifted to meet his, stalling his breath. “What if the baby is a selkie too? There is a chance that could happen, isn’t there?”

Daniel tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and ran his knuckle along her smooth porcelain cheek. “Whomever our child takes after, his mother or his father, I’ve no doubt he’ll hear the call of the sea. For now, let’s get you the hell out of here before this ship sinks to the bottom of the bay.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

As much as Daniel hated the idea of telling McTavish he’d failed in his mission, they’d been home from Gibraltar for a full day and the time for stalling had come to an end. If he waited much longer, the general would only come looking for him.

He trudged up the winding road leading to The Bristol Inn. Skirting a group of soldiers on their way out, Daniel stepped inside and crossed to the counter. A uniformed soldier stood where the innkeeper had been when Daniel had last visited.

“Can I help you, sir?” the soldier asked.

“I’m here to see General McTavish.”

The soldier’s eyes hardened. “The general is dead, sir. Murdered in his sleep last night. I’m Major Finch. I’ve been charged with heading up the investigation. What business did you have with the general, Mister…?”

Daniel hid his shock and smiled politely at the soldier. “Captain, actually. Captain O’Roarke. The general and I were acquaintances. I happened to be in port and thought I would stop in and catch up with him.” He painted on a mask of concern. “Do you have any leads?”

The major reached into his pocket and withdrew a shining blade. He held it out for Daniel.

Daniel looked down at Captain Winters’ dagger. The one Ellie always kept in her left boot. He’d know the jade-eyed serpent carved into the handle anywhere.

“Do you recognize it?” the major asked.

Daniel gave his head a shake. “Sorry, no.” He met the major’s inquisitive stare, his own expression carefully blank. “I do hope you find the culprit.” He forced out the next words. “General McTavish was a fine man.”

“Yes, sir, thank you. I’m sure we will.”

Thoughts racing, Daniel turned and left the inn. When had Ellie found time to visit McTavish? He’d kept her busy long into the night enjoying their change in sleeping arrangements. She could only have snuck out after he’d fallen asleep, exhausted and sated.

Daniel chuckled. One thing was certain. His marriage to Ellie Winters would never be boring.

 

 

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 

Something about writing this part of the book reminds me of those breathless Oscar winners standing on the stage for their allotted thirty seconds futilely trying to thank every person they happened across while working on their project, and then forgetting to mention someone vitally important. So please bear with me as I fight through my damp-palm panic and try to mention the people who truly deserve the lion’s share of any accolades this story may bring.

First, I want to grovel at the feet of my bo-hunk/life partner/significant other, Pete, and my two daughters, Casey and Shelby, who have put up with more pirate talk and familial absenteeism for the sake of this novel than any family should have to endure. I can’t begin to tell you how much your support has meant to me.

To my son, Steven, I promise the next cover is all yours, baby. I hope someday you get the chance to experience the love a parent has for their child. You make me proud to call myself your mother.

Thanks to my parents for always standing behind me despite my countless and ever-changing career aspirations. I think I found the one I want to keep now.

To my sister Chris, thanks for being so willing to shout from the rooftops that your sister wrote a novel. It means the world to me to have your unwavering and dedicated support.

Heaps of love and gratitude go to the beautiful souls who make up The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pens. Without you, I would still be floundering in a sea of self-doubt and defeatism. Thank you for offering your guidance and support, and most of all for taking this fantastic journey with me (I can see Fiji on the horizon).

To my friend and new favorite author, Jocelyn Adams, for setting the bar so damned high, and showing me the kind of writer I want to be when I grow up. You rock my socks, girlie. Gratitude and love for the fantastic Emma Madden, for propping me up when I needed it and giving me the greatest compliment I’ve ever received as a writer to date.

Special thanks to Ruth Lauren Steven, Terri Rochenski, Kelly Said, as well as the rest of the critters at Scribophile for reading chapter upon chapter of drafts and revisions while I scrambled to get this one down on paper.

I also owe mounds of gratitude to my faithful beta readers, Lisa Littell, Arttoa Nimue, and Cathy Geloso. Thank you for being willing to give me your precious free time, the blunt truth, and for helping me see Ellie and Daniel’s story through the eyes of a real reader.

Finally, to my BFF, Kathy Vulcano. You may not like to read, but you have always made sure to support me in this journey despite that, and I will love you forever for it (Marrisa: A Bob the Undead Monkey story is coming. You wait and see).

 

ABOUT REBECCA HART

Rebecca Hart is a single parent, full time IT geek, and reformed gaming addict living in Upstate NY. When not at the office with her nose buried in a laptop trying to fix it, she can be found at home with her nose buried in a laptop, writing instead. Rebecca’s short stories have been featured in anthologies published by Pill Hill Press, Wicked East Press and DFE Quarterly (erotica). She enjoys hearing and interacting with her readers.

 

Find more about Rebecca at:
http://www.rebeccahartwriting.com

 

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One man, one woman, separated by centuries,..

Can their love bridge both space and time?

 

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