Of Magic and Rum (Beyond a Contemporary Mythos)

Chapter 13

I peer at Anne through the bars, struggling between disappointment and admiration for what she’s done. Her scales and ridges have disappeared, that fiery red hair falling in damp tendrils over her shoulders and face. She’s still so goddamned beautiful.

“Jack, I’m so sor—” Anne starts, leaping to her feet from the floor and moving to the bars, grabbing them.

I hold up a hand, forcing my expression to remain stony. “No. No apologies. No lies. All I want to hear is the truth .”

Anne wrings her hands together after dropping them from the cell door. “Where do I begin?”

Great question.

“Why did you need my ship when you possess—” I make flapping gestures with my hands because I can’t bring myself to say fins despite my fascination with them.

Anne sighs and backpedals until her ass hits the far wall. “I got lost and ended up here somehow—” Defensively, she fans her palm at me. “—honestly. I don’t know how I got here, but my home is in the Mediterranean, and when I heard in the tavern that you were headed there, I thought it was as good of an opportunity as any to get out of Nassau.”

I can’t say I would’ve done much differently. But having the tables turned on you is still just as irritating as being the table-turner.

I let my eyes roam her forehead where blue luminescent ridges and scales had been only moments before. Her eyes have returned to their emerald hue, and her hair has regained its vibrant fire. It’s a conundrum trying to decide which version of her is more gorgeous.

“And what exactly are you?” I pick at the worn leather on my belt with a thumb.

Anne’s slender hands wrap around the bars, fingers idly caressing the rusting metal. “A sea nymph.”

The skin beneath my right eye spasms.

“Most confuse us for mermaids, but we’re different. I can conjure my tail or legs and control the seas. A mermaid is more categorized as a sea creature, whereas I’m more of a—” Anne pauses, waiting for me to lift my gaze to hers. “—deity.”

The floor becomes wading waters, and I stumble back on my heels. How did I let this slip through my fingers? How could I have let something like this around my crew? And yet, as much a threat as she poses, she can also be the best asset any pirate captain could hope for.

“Jack,” Anne whispers, reaching a hand through the bars but withdrawing it before I can decide if I want to touch her. “Another truth? I expected a ruthless captain and a vile crew that I wouldn’t care if I used or not. The plan was to keep my head down, get where I needed to go, and take advantage when possible.”

She sounds more like me with each passing second, which agitates me. But I don’t want her to stop .

“I assume these plans changed at some point?” I dip my face near hers, grabbing the bar closest to her head.

She nods, her eyes panning to the floor, and I get lost for a few breaths, counting the freckles scattering her cheeks. “I didn’t expect a crew to feel more like a—” Anne’s eyes pinch shut, a pained wrinkle creasing above her nose. “—a family.”

I suspect this single word weighs more on her than she’ll ever admit. She’s skillful at hiding her intentions, but some expressions are more complex to mask.

“And this ruthless captain?” Slipping a hand between the bars, I lift her chin with my knuckle.

When her eyes land on mine, a tightening coils in my gut. “Ruthless when he needs to be, not simply because he can be.”

Agitation laced with optimism and intrigue sizzles in my chest. Growling, I turn away from her for fear of her gaze entrancing me somehow. “Anne, you have no idea what complications this causes. I don’t know if I can trust you not to jeopardize us all.”

Frantically, Anne uses the bars to pull herself closer to me, to the furthest corner of the cell. “I’m not asking you to trust me immediately. But I’m asking for the chance .”

Keeping my back to her, I run the orange sash hanging from my waist between two fingers, the fabric snagging on my callused skin. “This would’ve been so much different if you’d have just come forward from the beginning.”

“And what? Risk you all turning me in for profit? I didn’t know you. And more truth? If it weren’t for you falling into the sea, I probably still wouldn’t have told you yet.” Anne sighs and presses her forehead to the bars. “Call it cowardice or whatever you wish, but my kind has remained in the shadows for centuries since mortals stopped believing. How was I to know the reaction? The dangers?”

Damn it all to hell. There’s no winning this round for either of us.

But then, something she’s said perks my ear, and I swivel on my heel. “Your kind ? How many of you are there?”

“I’m not sure. I couldn’t give you an exact number. Hundreds? Thousands?”

The air is torn from my lungs, and I press a hand to my ribs. Thousands ? “How do you all keep so hidden? If there’s this many of you, surely, we would’ve seen one by now before—before you.”

Anne traces a fingertip over her chapped lips. “We’ve become experts with blending in. Well, I suppose for me, until recently, that is.” A weak smile tugs at her mouth.

Grinding my teeth, I yank the small bottle of rum water from my pouch and slip it between the bars for her. “Is Anne your real name?”

“Thank you,” she whispers hoarsely, popping the cork and taking several small sips before answering. “No. Do you want to know what it is?”

This question creates a battle in my mind. On the one hand, I want to know out of sheer curiosity, but on the other, learning this will only make things too real. And with a name like Anne, it makes her so—human.

“Not today. Perhaps another time.” Sniffing once, I scratch my chin and backpedal from the cell, trying to ignore the subtle disappointment edging her eyes. “At any rate, you will remain in the brig for now.”

“What?” Anne exclaims, her eyes going wide as sand dollars. “Jack, you?—”

“You are safer down here, and the crew is safer—” I clench my fists at my sides. “—from you.”

“Jack,” she whispers again, and the pain surrounding my name floating from her lips is almost enough to undo me.

Not daring to look at her, I move for the door. “I’ll be sure Ragnar delivers daily rations to you.”

“You need me,” Anne declares, a new form of venom sparking in her voice.

I pause with my hand splayed at the door knob. After counting to three so as not to react impulsively, I storm back for the cell, glaring at her through the bars. “I don’t need anyone, lovely.”

“In this case, Rackham—” Anne rises to the balls of her feet, bringing her eyes to my chin level. “—you do.”

She knows something I don’t, the little minx.

A tick forms in my cheek, and I look to the heavens, reining in the bubbling irritation, before leveling my stare back on her. “Enlighten me.”

“The jewel you’re after? The one you incorrectly called the Sailor’s Jewel?” Anne taps a fingernail against the metal, making rhythmic panging sounds.

I hadn’t mislabeled it per se, but any accounts I’ve found through the years never named it, and I required something punchy to spark awe in my crew. “Continue,” I encourage through gritted teeth.

“That jewel—” Blue luminescent scales seem to shimmer over Anne’s cheeks. “—is the beacon for Atlantis.”

Atlantis. It can’t possibly—and she can’t be—or, is she?

I furiously rub my chin to maintain composure. “I still fail to hear why I need you ?”

Anne looks me square in the eye. If all of this hadn’t happened, I may have torn the cell door from its hinges and had my way with her on the damp floor.

“Because even if you have a precise location, which I know you don’t, you’d swim beneath the surface and see nothing but open water.”

My brows squish together. “I’m not following.”

“Atlantis could be right in front of you, and because you’re a mortal, you not only wouldn’t be able to access it, but you won’t know it’s there .” Anne gives a taunting glare to rival Blackbeard himself.

Twirling the brass ring on my right middle finger, I slowly nod. “And I’m going to guess you, being what you are, can access it?”

“And there’s those smarts again.”

A chuckle vibrates from my belly, and I reach between the bars, stroking my fingertips over those scarlet tresses. I know how soft they can be, but strangely I enjoy how taut the salt has made them. “Let me make something clear. If you’re toying with me and whatever you claim puts me or my crew in danger, I will not hesitate to leave you at the next port. There are plenty of other ships you can steal away on.”

Anne presses her face between the bars so nothing is blocking her razor-sharp expression. “And if you become my worst fear by telling anyone about what I am after I saved your life, putting it all at risk? I won’t hesitate to kill you or any of the crew who threaten me.”

I never knew my cock could grow hard from a woman’s poisonous words, but here we are. Grinning, I lower my nose to hers, ever so lightly brushing it. “You sure you’re not a pirate?”

She gingerly chews at the corner of her lip. “I don’t know what I am anymore, Jack.”

Nodding, I force myself to pull away with every molecule of my willpower, the memory of her hair tantalizing my skin. “I appreciate this information. But you’ll still stay in the brig until I know I do need you.”

And because I possess very little strength at this point in the conversation, I turn away before those jade eyes lure me in like an unforgiving Siren’s call.

“You cannot be serious, Jack,” she calls out, but I don’t look back. “Captain,” she yells, trying again, but I’m already exiting and pushing my back to the door once it’s closed.

I’m fully aware the crew will vote for her freedom within days, but I’ll leave her to her thoughts for now. Mythical being or not, Anne needs to realize who she’s meddling with.