Demon of the Deep

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

SEPTEMBER 2ND, 1666

R owan’s feet swished through the dew-cloaked gardens behind the manor house. It was early. Much earlier than he would usually be awake, but the events of the night before weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he could hardly sleep. Until finally, with red eyes, he’d gotten out of bed and left Yves slumbering soundly. In his years as a pirate captain, Rowan had dealt with his fair share of disagreements, brawls, and all manner of things between the crew, but he’d never encountered an all-out assault, especially an attempted sexual assault. He didn’t know how to deal with this. His crew was close, meant to be a family, and something like this had been unthinkable until now. What was the appropriate punishment? He knew what other captains would do, everything from ignoring it to flogging. But what would the Ghost Hawk do? All he knew was that he needed to protect Fox.

He reached a one-story building made of red brick. It sat low in the overgrown remnants of the house’s gardens. One of Rowan’s loyal crew members sat huddled on a wooden chair in front of the door. He looked up when he heard his captain approaching and removed the chair so Rowan could enter the building.

Dim light filtered through a window at the far end. It must have been a dog kennel at one time, a row of iron barred enclosures ran along one wall. But now it only held one kind of dog.

In the middle enclosure, Cyrus sat with his back against the brick wall. He seemed to have just woken, roused by the squeal of rusty hinges as Rowan stepped into the building. His face was bruised and swollen, and Rowan suspected he had a broken nose. A flicker of hope seemed to cross his face at the sight of his captain, before he saw Rowan’s dour expression and realized that Rowan was not the savior he could have been if he were a crueler man. Rowan’s feet crunched over the moldering straw quietly as he crossed the room to stand before the bars of Cyrus’s prison.

Neither of them said anything for a long while. Both just staring at each other through the gaps between the iron.

Finally Rowan gathered enough of his thoughts together to ask, “Why?”

Cyrus frowned. This was not the question he was expecting. The answer was probably obvious to many. But not to Rowan. He valued loyalty implicitly. And though he was a violent man, a man who lived on the wrong side of the law, he was also a man who did not understand the motive behind an act such as this.

Rowan stared at his crew member, waiting for an answer. He saw a series of calculations tick through Cyrus’s mind. Whether to be honest or beg for mercy. Rowan didn’t feel merciful. His fingers itched to add to the bruises Ga?l had painted across Cyrus’s face.

“The little slut had it coming,” Cyrus finally said, with all the venom of a cornered snake.

The rage that had been simmering in Rowan’s belly since the night before boiled over, consuming any uncertainty Rowan had harbored in the vain hope that perhaps he could be merciful if Cyrus was repentant. He couldn’t. He spat into the straw at Cyrus’s feet, and without another word, turned and left the caged man behind.

Rowan was halfway back to the house when Yves materialized out of the mist with the haunting call of a mourning dove accompanying him. He wore a deep green dressing gown richly embroidered with patterns of ferns and white rabbits, open over a bare chest and the trousers he’d slept in. His black hair had been raked back from his forehead by hasty fingers. He looked like a spoiled aristocrat lost in the woods.

“I don’t want him on my crew anymore,” Rowan growled when he saw him. There was no need to explain exactly what, or who, he meant. “I don’t want him around Fox.”

“I concur,” Yves said evenly. He didn’t seem cold, even with his slippers and the hem of his dressing gown soaked in dew. “But I’m none too thrilled about taking him on either. A man like that can’t be trusted. But then again we can’t exactly punish him then turn him loose. Not with him knowing about Illusion. Even if he doesn’t hold a grudge, many people would pay a pretty penny to catch the Demon and the Ghost Hawk.”

Rowan clenched and unclenched his hands. He’d spent a good portion of the night thinking of this very problem. They could punish Cyrus as they saw fit. But they could no longer trust him. Nor could they let him go free to blab their secrets throughout the Islands. Fox deserved justice, and it was Rowan’s job to mete it out.

“So what do we do?”

“Neither of us want him on our crew,” Yves said slowly, puzzling it out as he spoke. “Ana and the others definitely won’t tolerate him around here. And we can’t let him go. So there’s really only one option. We have to kill him.”

Rowan’s head snapped up. The cruel lines of Yves’s face were not softened by the gentle morning light around them. In fact the rosy glow that had begun to rise above the horizon sent his angles into sharp relief, enhancing the harshness of his expression.

He was a harbinger of death wrapped in a beautiful package.

“I agree the punishment needs to be severe but execution? We’re pirates, not the fucking government.”

“Strand him on a desert island then. Or leave him to rot in the kennel like the dog he is.”

“That would be as good as murdering him. And if he doesn’t die he’ll definitely hold a grudge. We can’t do that.”

Yves seemed puzzled.

“Why not?”

They stared at each other for a few moments.

“I’m not in the habit of murdering crew members,” Rowan said with wary eyes.

“But he’s not a crew member. He’s a traitor and an abuser. You don’t even have to carry out the punishment yourself. Let me flog him; people die from that all the time. I do love a good whipping. ”

The sadistic glee in Yves’s eyes sent a shiver down Rowan’s spine. He knew the Demon was ruthless, they all were, but his suggestions just felt too cruel.

“You’re a bit soft for a pirate captain,” Yves noted .

“I’m not soft. I’m just not bloodthirsty.”

“How about this,” Yves said, ignoring the implication that he was bloodthirsty. “Fox is the victim here. We’ll let him decide the prisoner’s fate.”

“You might not like his decision,” Rowan warned, thinking how unpredictable Fox could be.

Yves smiled, showing his rows of perfect teeth.

“He might surprise you instead.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will,” Rowan said tiredly.

They met with Fox in Yves’s well-appointed office. Ga?l was there too. “For emotional support,” Fox had said, but Rowan knew that Ga?l had barely let his lover out of his sight since the incident occurred. Rowan himself had felt uncomfortable letting his friend and crew member, whose safety he was responsible for, out of his sight.

“We’ve come to a decision to let you decide Cyrus’s punishment.” Yves got straight to the point. “As the victim and with these unique circumstances, we feel it is your right. Keep in mind that the safety of this island and its inhabitants take priority over any merciful feelings you may have.”

Rowan shot him a disapproving look.

“Take your time,” Rowan added. “I don’t mind letting him rot in the brig another day or two.”

Fox’s eyes flicked between the two captains before a slow, malicious smile crept across his scabbed lips.

“I want to fight him.”

“Fox,” Ga?l protested. “You can’t.”

Fox silenced him with a hand on his arm. Rowan and Yves looked at him with a curious mix of expressions on their faces. Yves, intrigued and anticipatory. Rowan, worried.

“You said I could decide his punishment. So that’s what I choose.”

“Why?” Yves asked, leaning forward.

“I think it will deter him. I’ll humiliate him in front of a crowd. Teach him not to mess with me. Then he can do a stint of labor punishment or something to prove himself worthy of being on crew again.” Fox shrugged. “Besides, it will be fun.”

Yves hummed in appreciation.

“It does have a certain elegance about it,” he said to Rowan.

“Elegance?!” Ga?l sputtered, clearly enraged by the prospect of his lover fighting the man who had just attacked him the night before. “Are you really going to allow this, Captain? It’s absurd.”

“We agreed he could pick the punishment,” Yves said. Then turned his attention back to Fox. “Are you sure this is what you want? That you can win?”

“Believe me; I know what I’m doing.” Fox smirked.

“It’s up to you, Hawk,” Yves said, no doubt using Rowan’s pirate moniker to remind him that mercy had no place for a crime such as this. “They’re your crew members. Do you approve?”

Rowan had said nothing up until now. His eyes bored into Fox, assessing.

“Approved,” he said finally.

“Then it’s settled,” Yves said. There was a beat of silence between the four of them.

“I’ll fight him in your place,” Ga?l insisted.

“No, you won’t,” Fox said. His tone was light but nonetheless brooked no argument. “I deserve my revenge.”

Torches guttered around the ring of packed earth in the street in front of the mansion. It was after dark, but a significant crowd had gathered to watch the fight.

“I heard it’s to settle what happened last night,” one woman from the Kraken crew said to the man next to her. “You know, with Ga?l’s man? The pretty one? He got beat up something fierce by a jealous ex.”

“Gods help the idiot who has to fight Ga?l,” the man said, making a sign to ward off evil.

Fox grimaced as he wrapped his knuckles to protect them from injury. Of course, these people didn’t know him. They’d assume he would let Ga?l fight his battles for him. And if Ga?l had his way, he would.

The hum of the crowd got louder as Cyrus was led into the ring, his jailers unlocking his cuffs and leaving him standing in the center with all eyes on him.

Fox took a deep breath. He was rarely one to solve personal problems with his fists, but he knew how to fight. It was what had gotten him onto the Siren crew in the first place.

The bruises ached, the memory of pain, then the later pleasure, mapped out on his skin. Rowan had offered to postpone the match till he was healed, but despite Robin’s medical advice, Fox had refused. There was a well of anger simmering in his gut and he wanted to use it. Wanted to humiliate and hurt Cyrus just as he had been.

Fox rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers. He looked down to his feet, bare in the dirt.

“Not too late to back out,” Ga?l murmured at his side. Ga?l’s fingers brushed his arm tentatively, as if he wanted to hold Fox back but knew this was necessary. “I’ll beat him six feet underground for you.”

Fox pecked him on the cheek.

“So gallant, but no.”

“It’s time,” Rowan said. His blue eyes swept Fox from head to toe, and Fox suddenly felt as if he were back in Wave Harbor again, fresh off a fight with a man who’d bought him dinner and expected something in return. This new stranger’s eyes watching him from an alleyway, judging him worthy of the Ghost Hawk.

Rowan clapped a hand on Fox’s shoulder. “Show them.”

A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd when Fox, not Ga?l, stepped into the dirt ring. He divested himself of his shirt, revealing the myriad of bruises dappled across his skin. He wore them like a badge of honor. Like a king’s robes. A few people gasped in the crowd. He practically felt Ga?l flinch, no doubt guilty that some of those bruises had come from him. However consensually and enthusiastically Fox had asked for, and received, them.

Fox stepped further into the ring, his anger flaring as Cyrus glowered at him.

“This fight is to be the official punishment of Cyrus Oates for the assault of Fox, both of the Siren Song . Handed down and carried out by Fox. This fight will conclude when one fighter yields.” Rowan’s voice rang clearly around the ring.

All he had to do was get Cyrus to surrender. Easy .

Both men dropped into a fighting stance.

“Begin!”

They circled like a pair of wolves. Cyrus eyed the crowd warily as if unconvinced they wouldn’t intercede if he started to win. Did he think the rest of the Siren crew would jump in and beat him to a pulp to defend Fox? They might if it weren’t for the presence of their captain. They all loved Fox. If Cyrus didn’t know how badly he’d fucked up before, he did now.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Fox.”

“Should have thought of that before you did,” Fox said lightly.

“Do you really expect me to fight you? Is this a trap?”

Fox’s fingers twitched. “Give it your best shot, and we’ll see how it goes.”

“After I beat you, your monster boyfriend is just going to come kill me in my sleep, is that it?”

Every word out of his mouth just stoked Fox’s anger more.

“He’s not the monster here,” Fox said quietly.

Cyrus lunged, but it was a halfhearted attempt, testing the waters to see if anyone would intervene. Fox dodged easily, dancing away on light feet despite the ache in his body.

“I said give it your best shot,” Fox said, as the crowd sneered and booed. They wanted justice, but they also wanted a fight.

Cyrus turned and struck again, this time landing a hard punch to Fox’s cracked ribs. Fox hissed in pain, and Cyrus hesitated for a second, waiting again for the audience to take matters into their own hands and defend poor, loveable Fox.

Fox used the momentary lapse to press his advantage. He drove his knee into Cyrus’s stomach, simultaneously using both hands fisted together to clobber him between the shoulder blades like a hammer.

Cyrus collapsed with a rush of breath, and Fox retreated a few steps, waiting for him to get back up. Ready. He didn’t want to finish the fight too fast—he still had some anger to get out.

Two breaths and Cyrus was back on his feet.

“You little fucker,” he spat.

“That’s what they call me,” Fox joked, affecting a cute demeanor and poking one finger into his cheek.

“Slut,” Cyrus hissed. How quickly he’d gone from insisting he didn’t want to hurt Fox to outright hatred. It was obvious he’d just wanted to save his own skin. His true nature came out when he could no longer get what he wanted.

The crowd was quieter now. Fox had been intending this fight to be good entertainment, but it was clear to everybody here that it was more serious for him. Those who knew Fox knew him as bubbly and lovably annoying.

Maybe that was why Cyrus had thought he could take advantage.

But Fox rarely let this side of himself show. The side that craved pain and violence. He took no pleasure picking on the weak like Cyrus did. But a bigger, stronger opponent? That was his bread and butter.

They traded a few blows back and forth, neither gaining the upper hand.

Confident now that this wasn’t a trap and the audience wouldn’t intervene, Cyrus aimed his next punch directly at Fox’s face. Fox blocked with his forearms, hissing as Cyrus’s fist connected with bruised flesh. He missed Cyrus’s other fist coming at him from the side. Cyrus’s knuckles crashed against the right side of his head.

Fox’s ears rang. For a moment, his mind went blank with only the memory of last night. He stumbled back, but he regained his bearings quickly. His eyes caught on Ga?l in the crowd, thankfully being held back by both Robin and John. The rage and love in Ga?l’s eyes bolstered him.

Fox bared his teeth in a grim imitation of his trademark grin. He stalked back toward Cyrus.

“What did you hope to accomplish?” Fox said low, so only Cyrus could hear as they circled one another again, always looking for an opening. “You’d what? Rough me up? Show me what a man you are and I’d go back to you? Fall for you?” He laughed.

Cyrus balked, but Fox wasn’t really looking for answers.

The crunch of Cyrus’s already broken nose bones under his knuckles was all the answer he needed.

Cyrus reeled back, clutching his re-broken nose as blood gushed down over his lips. But Fox wasn’t finished. He struck again, landing a flurry of punches across Cyrus’s ribs and chest, sending him stumbling to the edge of the ring. The crowd caught him and for a moment Fox thought they might try to join the fight. But they pushed him back to his feet and into Fox’s path of destruction once more .

Fox swept Cyrus’s feet out from under him, grappling him to the dirt. He wrapped his legs around Cyrus’s torso from behind, arms locking around his neck like a vise. His body wrapped around Cyrus like a boa constrictor, unyielding and merciless. Cyrus struggled, and Fox applied more pressure. He leaned his cheek against the side of Cyrus’s head, mouth close to his ear.

“Looks like I was the monster all along,” he cooed.

Cyrus grunted and elbowed Fox in the side. His hold tightened again.

“Who’s the little fucker now?” Fox whispered. He ignored the frantic slapping of Cyrus’s hand on his arm. Clearly yielding, but no one would fault Fox for going just a little further. “Who is whose bitch?” Cyrus’s face was turning red. “Oh? Can’t speak? That’s too bad, really. If you answer my questions, maybe I’ll let you live.”

Cyrus’s nails dug into Fox’s forearm, real fear entering his eyes.

Fox held for another few seconds, then eased his grip. Cyrus gasped and sputtered as his airway opened again.

“I yield,” he choked out when he was able to speak again.

Fox flexed his arm against his throat.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m the little fucker,” Cyrus said desperately, shame and pain evident in his face.

“And?”

“I’m your bitch.”

“Very good.”

Fox released him, and Cyrus rolled away from him, coughing. Fox stood, giving Cyrus a light kick in the side for good measure. The crowd was dead silent around them. Fox dusted the dirt off his trousers. Then bowed cheekily.

Approval roared from the crowd. Now that the fight was over, Ga?l was released from Robin’s and John’s restraining hands and rushed into the ring, gathering Fox up into his arms and frantically kissing him. Out of the corner of Fox’s eye, he saw a few of the Kraken crew members pick Cyrus up and drag him back toward the brig. Cyrus was their problem now; Fox and Rowan were washing their hands of him. Deep down, Fox knew that the Demon might decide he was too much trouble after the Siren left and dispose of him. But Fox resolved not to think—or feel guilty—about it. He was only looking ahead .

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” Fox soothed as Ga?l’s hands ran over him, checking for serious injury.

“That was incredible,” Ga?l finally gasped.

“You should never have doubted me.”

“I didn’t.” Ga?l took his face between his hands, looking into his eyes. “I only wanted to protect you.”

“We protect each other,” Fox admonished.

Rowan and Yves approached slowly, allowing the couple time.

“I’m impressed,” Yves said.

“I knew you could do it,” Rowan added, ruffling Fox’s hair.

Fox beamed. He always craved the rare praise from his captain. Praise from two captains was twice as good.