Of Magic and Rum (Beyond a Contemporary Mythos)

Chapter 6

Her head shoots up like a canon. “What?”

“Yeah, what?” Several of the men echo.

Pure rage and confusion dance in those emerald eyes.

Leaning in, I press a forearm above her head, the same way Mary had, but she reacts much differently to me . “You think I don’t know what’s happening on my own ship, lovely?”

“Then why didn’t you say something sooner ?” She asks through gritted teeth, neck flushing pink and bottom lip quivering.

I blanch. “What? And spoil the surprise? You being a woman was fairly obvious. Thank your mother for those curves.”

She says nothing, her throat bobbing and her body tilting away the best she can with a wooden barrel pressed to her lower back behind her.

“You see, gents,” I bark over my shoulder before flicking the woman’s hat off, revealing luscious long red tendrils. My throat tightens, my limbs going heavy, but I quickly recover. “We have another woman on board.”

This is the woman from the tavern—the one Vane had been speaking with when we first arrived. This is working out far better than I had previously planned.

Gasps, maniacal laughter, and catcalls float across the deck from the crew behind us.

The rage in the woman’s eyes morphs into an inferno, and she lifts a defiant chin. “You can’t just hand me over.”

“Can’t I?” I reposition, making my face dip closer to hers. “Out of the two of us—” Using my thumb, I point it to her and then myself. “—who’s stealing a free ride on the other’s ship?”

Her jaw tightens, and she forces her eyes away from me, saying nothing because she can’t .

“Precisely. So, Miss—” Using a finger on her cheek, I coax her attention back to me. “I’m sure you know my name by now, but if I may, what’s yours?”

She sucks a sharp breath through her petite nose. “Anne Bonny.”

A chill settles over my skin. Not quite so “someone walked over my grave” but more along the lines of “a sensual fingernail grazing my spine” type of sensation. I wince but shake it off, focusing on the task at hand.

“Well, Anne, my dear, if you don’t wish to be marooned on the next island we come across, and that would be merciful versus tossing you overboard—” I pause to watch the tick in her cheek before continuing. “—then you’ll do what I say.”

Her hand edges toward the dagger hugging her hip, and I slap it, not losing eye contact with her.

“You’re a vile human being,” she seethes, those mouse-like nostrils flaring.

I’ve been called far worse.

Smirking, I rub some of her hair between two fingers, surprised by how soft it is considering it’s been shoved under a hat for lord knows how long. “A sentiment you share regarding pirates with most of the world.”

“You thought I was referring to you being a pirate, did you?” Her eyes are unfaltering, challenging me with a heated stare.

It lights my veins on fire . Anne Bonny is a powder keg.

I let only a deep chuckle rumble from my chest before turning away from her. “Let’s give the crew the good news.”

The sound of her fingers brushing her shirt, reaching for that goddamned dagger, resonates in my ear, and I slap her knuckles again.

“Try that again, and I may just have to lop your pretty little hand off.” I drag a hand over her wrist, threatening where I’d make the cut.

She snaps it away with a grimace, rolls her shoulders, and lets them slump.

“Crew, we have a vote to make,” I make my voice boom loud enough for the whole ship to hear. “I propose we give Vane Anne here as a peace offering. Now, before you vote no, hear this—” Raising a finger, I prepare to bring it home. “Vane already has an interest in this woman. Propositioned her at the tavern in Nassau, and the saucy redhead turned him down .”

I inferred all of this from the haughty way Vane had left Anne’s table and the extra cork up his ass when he saw me. Given Anne’s light growl behind me, I hit the target on the nose.

“This be an easy one,” one man says, raising his hand.

The rest of the crew echoes his movement.

“One to save the few, eh?” A man jokes.

When Mary raises her hand, I feel Anne’s body tense behind me. Mary’s expression remains emotionless, but I have the faintest inkling she’s doing it for a reason I don’t bother to decipher. She always has her reasons for damn near everything. And with everyone’s hands held sky-high, the results are clear.

“That settles that, Anne.” I turn to face her, and she’s glaring burning splinters into my eye sockets. “We’re still a couple of days’ sail before we can come about and intercept. Until then, business as usual.” Pointing to the back of the ship, I can’t help the victorious grin pulling at my lips. “I do believe the shit bucket needs to be emptied this time of day.”

“Wait,” Anne calls out as I step away and pause. “After this, we’re to continue as if nothing happened?”

Unabashedly, I drop my eyes to her booted feet and lazily drag them up her body until reaching her face again. How I wish I could see those curves. “You’re an uninvited guest aboard my ship. You’re to continue with your assigned duties as if, yes, nothing has changed until we reach Vane. Now, you don’t have to go about the deck with your head held low like a scolded pup.”

She shoves past me, colliding into my side and heading for the back as I’d instructed.

“And Anne,” I beckon, smiling at her when she stops to look at me. “Feel free to show a little more skin now, too—if you wish.”

Her hands clench at her sides, and she storms away.

I let out a breath and drum my fingers on my sword’s hilt, watching her until she disappears into the latrine. It’s not always the easiest business, being a leader and making the hard decisions. But it would have only been a matter of time before she would’ve fucked up—someone would’ve caught her with her trousers down, squatting to piss, or glimpsed one of her tits when the wind blew just right or through a rain-soaked shirt. And what then? They would’ve questioned my obliviousness. I can’t have that.

“You sure about this, Captain?” Ragnar asks, dragging a hand over his beard and blowing out a breath.

“Vane won’t stop for nothing. You know that as well as I do. This plan is foolproof. Trust me.” I pat my old friend’s arm before making my way to Mary.

Mary’s braiding rope with extra pep, glaring at it as if she wishes it would catch flame.

“Piece of eight for your thoughts?” I lean on the ship’s side, crossing my legs at the ankles.

“This bloody stinks. That’s what. I give Anne this whole speech about us lady folk sticking together, and then I do what? Vote for her to be handed off to that godforsaken sod.” Mary pulls the next bit of rope so tightly it unravels.

Reaching for the rope before she destroys it all, I gently take it from her. “I assume this was a lesson of sorts for her?”

“Trust.” Mary folds her arms and watches Anne angrily scrubbing the deck. “She can trust me, but she needs to learn there’s such a thing as far too quickly.”

I do nothing but nod.

“You’re not going to hand her off, are you?” Mary snaps her gaze to me when I don’t answer immediately, and her arms fall slack at her sides. “Captain?”

“I always have a plan, Read.” After jostling her, I leave a slack-jawed Mary standing there as I head for my cabin.

Once inside my quarters, I leave my door open a crack and sulk into my chair. Truffles emerges from his hiding spot beneath the desk and hops to my lap, curling up on it with a contented purr. I snatch the small dagger resting in an open drawer, smirking as I remember Anne not only going for the one at her hip once but twice —such a little spitfire that one. I stroke Truffles’ fur, its softness finally making my body relax. With my free hand, I carve the shape of the jewel that’s been consuming my mind for months, ensuring I never forget where this long, arduous journey will take us.

There’s a knock at my door, and I slide one of the numerous books across my desk over the drawing before answering, “Come in.”

Glog pokes his head in with a curt smile, deepening the groove in his chin. “Am I interrupting anything, Captain?”

“Just self-wallowing. What do you need?” Smiling at my cat, I scratch his head, making his eyes close and his bushy tail sway.

Glog enters with a pewter bowl in hand. He’s in his usual attire of a gray tunic shirt, cut-off trousers, bare feet, and an apron that was once white and is now littered with various colorful stains. “Wanted you to try the new bone broth I’ve been experimenting with. Added new spices and sea biscuits to give it something to chew on and taste different.” He holds the bowl out to me, still grinning.

Once I take the bowl, Glog adjusts the red bandana tied tightly over his dark hair with both hands and presses his palms together, waiting for me to taste it.

Eyeing him over the rim, I take a sip. It’s good. Really good. As simple as bone broth is, you’d think you were consuming something far more complex. “This is amazing, Glog. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but this crew is damn lucky to have you.”

Glog sighs in relief and slaps his hands together before taking the bowl and turning for the door. “I’ll whip up a big enough batch for lunchtime then, yeah?”

“Oh, Glog, before you go.” I snap my fingers and motion him back to the desk. “Since you’re down there with storage, do you remember that ornate chest we pilfered some months ago? The one with all the lady garments in it that we’ve never known what to do with?”

Glog puckers his lips and then nods.

“Rummage through it, will you? See if there’s something—green.”

“Right away, Captain. I’ve never pegged you for the type who fancies wearing women’s clothing behind closed doors.” Glog gazes at me with sudden focus.

“You’re hilarious. It’s not for me.” Chuckling, I flick my wrist at the door. “Carry on.”

I settle back into carving the jewel and wait for Glog to return with a dress. Ocean waves beat against the hull outside, the whooshing sounds gratifying. The crew croons a shanty on deck, faint melodies of Fish in the Sea . They cock up every other verse, but it’s still strangely calming to hear it.

Glog returns several moments later with a satin and lace dress in the precise shade of green I’d been hoping for. Resting Truffles on the desk, I head to the deck, looking for Anne. She’s still scrubbing and mumbling all forms of obscenities under her breath with every other stroke. Her long, fiery hair hangs in delicate shambles over her face. She sits back on her haunches, dragging a shirt sleeve over the sweat on her forehead. I eye the opening of the shirt, longing with every fiber of my being to know what those tits look like. Are they rounded, or do they take on more of that tear-drop shape? Are her nipples pink? I grind my teeth together and mentally slap myself.

“Bonny,” I yell, waiting for her head to shoot up. “I need to see you in my cabin.”

Whoops and catcalls resonate with crew members nearby. I only grin at them because entertainment is severely lacking while on a ship for months. Let them think what they wish.

Anne wipes her hands on her trousers, and with harsh steps that rival a pair of hooves, she breezes into my quarters.

I follow, shut the door behind us, and shove the dress at her. “Try this on.”

“No.” She’s seething at me with her arms crossed so tightly over her chest that it makes her knuckles turn white.

A growl bubbles in the back of my throat. “The threat of marooning you still weighs heavily in the air, Anne. Now put it on .” I shake the dress at her for emphasis.

Truffles, who typically flees from anyone but Duke and me, waltzes across the desk and rubs himself against Anne’s hip, making her tense. Damn cat.

“And if I refuse?” A tightness forms in her neck and jaw.

The growl is full-blown now, and I close the distance between us, lowering my face to hers. “You keep arguing with me, and I’ll make you change on deck versus in the privacy I’m so graciously offering you.”

Anne’s moss green eyes flare wide, her bottom lip quivering before she snaps the dress from my grasp. “Fine. But why ?”

“As charming as you are in a shit-covered shirt and trousers, we’re trying to barter you as irrefutable living cargo to Vane.” I point at the dress. “So put it on and make your smiling Irish eyes pop, eh?”

Anne wrings her hands in the green frilly satin, fists shaking, and her lips forming a thin line, but finally, she doesn’t fight me.

“And you may want to use that water basin in the corner there to wipe whatever in God’s name you smeared on your cheeks.” Grimacing, I circle the air in front of her face.

She peels back, returning to her rebellious mode, posture erect.

And I’m enjoying every bloody second of it. The only other woman to ever deliver with as much as she can take with me has been Mary. And dear ‘ol Jack is all for a good tongue-lashing now and again. I’m a fan of all sorts of tongue-ish-related activities.

I turn for the door, resting a hand on my flintlock’s hilt. “And don’t mind Truffles. He only bites people he doesn’t like a little .”

Anne’s eyes shoot to my cat, still rubbing himself along her back and sticking his tail straight into the air. Grinning to myself, I close the door but stand by it in case she attempts any funny business. My gaze, of its own accord, shifts to the crack in the door, catching a glimpse of Anne’s gloriously naked body—ivory skin with patches of light freckles, a brief preview of the side of her breast, but she turns her back to me before I can make out the nipple. As she slides the dress over her ass, I note the single beauty mark on her right cheek. Once she’s slipping her arms into the sleeves, her eyes cast behind her, landing on me. If she’s shy or angry over me watching, she doesn’t show it. It’s as if she half-expected it and doesn’t care. And it has my blood on fire —again. I grin at her and wave.

It’s been far too long since I’ve made Vane’s life a living Hell. And he’ll never see us coming.