The Sea Devil (Pirates of Britannia: Lords of the Sea Book 3)

by Eliza Knight

  “Oh, Thornley.” Alesia squeezed him tighter and pressed her lips to his heart.

  Still, he couldn’t stop retelling it. “I was hiding in an alcove, the laird’s lug, and I heard and saw it all. My father stood by while Santiago killed my mother. And then the bastard killed my father, too. He wanted all the treasure for himself.” He drew in an unsteady breath. “I’ve been hunting him my entire life. ’Tis how he captured me afore. I managed to escape, which bruised his ego. He’s a cruel devil, parading himself as a merchant pirate. And I know the truth. And I know it will end with one of our deaths.”

  “It doesna have to be that way.” She was gazing up at him now, tears wetting her eyes.

  “I see no other way.” Thor hardened his jaw, determined to see an end to this struggle today.

  Alesia shook her head. “Because ye’re too blinded by your pain.”

  He glared down at her, angry and unwilling to admit she might speak the truth.

  “What do ye know of my pain? Your mother was—”

  “Dinna say it, Thor.” Her grip on him loosened. “Dinna say something ye canna take back. I know more than anyone who and what my mother was. Though ye lost your mother, at least ye can look back with fond memories. I will never be able to do that.”

  Instantly, he felt like an arse for the bitter words he’d been about to utter. He didn’t even mean them. Alesia didn’t deserve his ire. There was only one man who did—Santiago.

  “I’m sorry, lass.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I shouldna have even thought it.”

  Her eyelids dipped down. “Anger makes us lash out and say things we dinna mean.”

  “I should be able to control that.”

  She smiled, reached up and stroked his cheek, then gave a little tug on his beard, a habit she’d picked up that he found endearing. “Sometimes our emotions get in the way of being able to control our mouths.”

  “Or fists.” He raised a questioning brow.

  “Aye, ye’re verra lucky I didna try to fight ye just now.”

  He chuckled and tucked her back against him, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I have to tell ye something.”

  She tried to look up at him, but he kept her head firmly tucked to his chest, fearing that if he were to look into her eyes, he’d not be able to confess what needed confessing. This time, she didn’t urge him to speak. She simply waited.

  “I love ye, Alesia Baird.”

  “What?” Her tone was that of surprise, but because he couldn’t see her face, he couldn’t gauge her reaction. A mistake, because he realized then and there he needed so very badly to see if she might return his affections.

  Thor tipped her chin, looked her in the eye and said, “I love ye with every part of my being. I dinna know when it started. ’Haps when I saw ye on the docks. But I do. Every part of ye. From your bristly tongue to your fighting fists to your constantly bare feet. When I’m not with ye, I think about ye. When I’m with ye, I canna stop thinking about how to make ye smile. And knowing that on the morrow we will face my enemy, and I will have brought ye into harm’s way, I hate myself.”

  “Oh, Thornley…” She gripped his shirt tightly, pulling the fabric taut against his back.

  He feared seeing what he’d done in her eyes. He was ashamed. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

  She tugged at his beard. “Look at me.”

  Though his stomach was tied up in knots, he did as she asked, looking deep into her green eyes and seeing nothing that he feared there.

  “Dinna hate yourself. Dinna berate yourself. I brought myself into this mess, not ye.”

  “Not if I hadna put out the call for Santiago’s bairn.”

  “But do ye not see?” She smiled softly. “If ye hadna, we’d never have met. We’d not have found each other. We’d not have fallen in love.”

  Blood and bones, he felt as vulnerable as he had when he was a wee lad watching his mother die. Everything was hanging in the balance. His life. His future. His love. And she’d said… “We… ye said we.”

  “Aye.” A radiant smile broke out on her lips. “I love ye, too, my Thornley. And there is no one I would rather go to battle with. No one I would rather fight beside. No one I would rather trust, love, cherish. I’ve been searching my whole life to belong. To matter and have a purpose, and with ye, I have found it.”

  A joy he’d never known encircled its way around his steel heart, warming him, melting him entirely.

  “I will turn this ship around right now,” he vowed.

  “Nay, ye willna. Because loving me doesna mean ye have to give up on your revenge.” She winked and playfully tapped her fist against his heart.

  He chuckled. “Ye’re a bloodthirsty wench.”

  “Perhaps.” She leaned up on her tiptoes and brushed her mouth over his. “If he is my sire, as ye suspect, then I want to be there when he falls.”

  “I am half tempted to thank him for being your father.”

  She playfully slapped at him again. “Only if your sword is running through his heart at the same time.”

  Thor lifted her up and twirled her around. “A lass after my own heart.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alesia leaned up for Thor’s kiss when the door behind him rattled.

  “Cap’n! Come quick! We’ve spotted sails at our stern.”

  “Bloody hell.” Thor kissed her hard and fast and then was through the door before Alesia could truly process what was happening. All the warmth and security she’d felt in the moments they’d shared evaporated and were replaced by thick clouds of panic in her chest.

  Sails. Ship’s sails. Coming from the opposite direction of where they were headed. Why would he be worried, unless the sails were those of an enemy…

  Oh God… She clutched at her chest, knees buckling. Before she could fall to the floor in horror, Alesia shut the door firmly and hurried to dress. Breeches, shirt, roped belt and boots. She hopped from one foot to the other, blinded herself with her shirt over her eyes in an effort to hurry through the process. She nearly tripped over a chair, bashed her knee on the bed and hit her head on the wall. No time to brush or plait her hair, she swept it up in an attempt at a knot and tied it off with ribbon and then burst from the cabin.

  She hurried along the galley toward the ladder that led up to the main deck, but she could not hear her footsteps above the noise that sounded overhead and below. Men ran and shouted. Beneath her feet, the wood planks vibrated as the cannons were rolled into place and possibly even loaded in the level below.

  On deck, the sun shone bright, partially blinding her as her eyes adjusted. Holding a hand up to shield its blinding power, she searched out the helm where a crewman manned the massive wheel. Not Thor. Not Edgard, either.

  Alesia walked steadily forward, turning in a circle and examining every man and swab. None of them as large as Thor. Where was he?

  A whistle sounded above, and she glanced up, shielding her eyes to see that he stood on a platform attached to the main mast dozens of feet in the air. What had she heard that called before? Oh, aye, the crow’s nest. His black shirt billowed in the wind, and because he wore a plaid…it was also billowing. She quickly looked away before anyone noticed that she’d just spotted his… Well, that she’d seen the plaid flapping in the wind.

  He was signaling to the other ships in their party and pointing out a few white specs on the horizon. Those must be the sails. Without any discernable markings, it was hard to ascertain just who it was. Royal Navy ships, merchants, pirates, enemies. It could be anyone.

  Alesia ran toward the stern to get a better view, leaping over swabs at work and the rigging on the deck. An overturned crate had spilled straw and chickens that were now squawking and rushing about the ship as though they’d only just realized they were not safely tucked away at a farm. She couldn’t help but think she kind of felt like the chickens. Panicked and scared.

  Uncertain.

  The swabs adjusted their sails, as did the men on the ot
her ships, gaining speed and moving away from their pursuers. For a little while, it appeared they were in fact gaining, the white sails in the distance creeping out of view, but then she realized it was only the way the sun had blocked them. Though they were not any closer, they were not any further away.

  “I need a weapon,” she muttered, realizing that her fists would not help her if they were boarded by men with swords and pistols.

  Alesia had fired a pistol before, in a tavern when she’d been mayhap ten or eleven summers. Two men were fighting over one of the whores she’d called Aunt Agatha. The woman wasn’t a relation, or at least not that she’d known of. But for a short time after her mother died, Aunt Agatha had been willing to feed her. But to earn her keep, Alesia had to steal from the woman’s customers. In any case, when one of the men figured out their scheme, he went after Aunt Agatha with a murderous fury. Another of Agatha’s customers hadn’t wanted to see her shot, and so the two men had battled it out. When the would-be rescuer had fallen dead and the attacker held his gun at Aunt Agatha’s head, Alesia had done the only thing she could think of. She’d picked up the discarded weapon and fired. First time firing a weapon, and she’d hit her mark head on—literally. There’d been a smoky hole with a trickle of blood centered in the middle of his forehead. She was a natural shot with good aim. Perhaps from having to judge spaces to disappear into or steal from. She’d never really thought of it, only that she could.

  And she needed a pistol right now. Or at the very least, a crossbow.

  Alesia whirled from the bow of the ship and searched the deck. The chickens were still running amuck while the swabs tried to catch them. Even as fast as they were going, the enemy ships were still gaining on them. She could hear Thor overhead shouting orders to his men, and the orders of the captains from the other brethren ships echoed on the wind.

  Then she saw a shiny pistol set behind one of the spilled crates, perhaps dropped by one of the lads as they chased a chicken. She surged forward and lifted it up. Was it loaded? Was there any way to tell?

  Realizing that if it was loaded, she’d only get off one shot and then be helpless since she didn’t know how to reload, and if it wasn’t loaded, she’d be equally in trouble because it would be pointless as a weapon. Alesia set the pistol back down and again whirled in the chaos on deck.

  “Miss Baird, ye must get back to your cabin.”

  She spun to face Edgard. “What?” There was no doubting the incredulousness in her tone, and the man took a step back, perhaps wondering if she was going to raise her fists to him or use the discarded pistol.

  Alesia took a deep breath, realizing he had every right to worry. She was so used to raising her fists, to fighting for what she wanted, or what she thought she deserved, it was as automatic to her as breathing. Stepping back from him, she forced her fingers to unfurl, to press her palms to her thighs.

  “I’m not going back to the cabin, Edgard. I can help. I want to help.”

  The first mate tsked. “Lass, ye must. The cap’n’s orders.”

  Alesia shot a glance up to the mast to where she’d last seen Thor, but he was no longer in the perch.

  “Where is he?”

  Edgard didn’t have to ask whom she meant. There was only one man she sought. “Gone bellow to check on the guns, miss. Asked me to make sure ye were safely in the cabin.”

  “I want to speak to him. I’m certain he’ll change his mind.” Squaring her shoulders, she put on her best authoritative face. “Take me to him.”

  Edgard shook his head. “Nay, lass, I canna.”

  “Then I shall find him myself.” She started to move around Edgard when his fingers gripped her elbow before quickly dropping.

  The move was enough to make her halt—but only for a second. Alesia stared down at his grip on her, actually seeing the moment he changed his mind and his fingertips went from white to pink. She lifted her chin and started to march toward the middle of the ship where she’d seen many of the swabs climbing down a ladder. The ship’s cannons had to be located down there. And if not, she’d ask—nay, demand someone point her in the right direction.

  Again, she felt Edgard’s fingers grip her arm, only this time he did not let go. The poor man looked like he was going to be sick.

  “Apologies, Miss Baird, but the cap’n said if I let ye get away from me it would be my head, and whilst I think ye’re a pretty lass, I do quite like my head where it is. So if ye wouldna give me so much trouble, I’ll just be taking ye back to your cabin.” There was a slight tremble to his fingers, though he held her fast. He was staring at her expectantly, begging almost.

  She had half a mind to give him what he expected—a good fight—except that would only cause a scene and get her well and truly locked up. Perhaps going back to the cabin was the best course of action, as Thor likely had a weapon stashed there that she could use.

  All pirates had multiple weapons, and what better place than in the room he slept and prepared for his day.

  Of course, thinking of where he slept brought about the image of the bed, and what he’d done with her there. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she glanced away from Edgard’s intense gaze, afraid he’d be able to see right into her head and know just what wicked things she’d been thinking of. And at a time like this… Oh, she was wicked. Well, she knew that already. Thor just seemed to bring out the worst and best in her.

  “All right,” she grumbled, “but ye needna hold on to me like I’m a criminal. I’m no more wanted for the gibbet than the rest of ye scoundrels.”

  “If I let go—”

  She cut him off before he could go on. “I will not run away. In fact, ye can watch me go if ye want.”

  “I’ll need to see ye shut in, if ye dinna mind, lass.” He tapped his head. “On account of the cap’n’s warning.”

  She held the urge to roll her eyes and nodded instead. “Then let me at least take your elbow, and we can stroll about the ship as if nothing is happening and we are just two people going for a walk.”

  “What?” He screwed up his face in confusion, and Alesia held back her laughter.

  “Oh, come now, Edgard, as handsome as ye are, ye canna tell me that ye havena walked about town with a lass on your arm?”

  Now it was his turn to blush.

  Oh, aye, Alesia was certainly a ruffian by any lady’s standards, but she knew how to stroke the ego of any man or woman to get what she wanted—even if that meant pretending to be something she wasn’t.

  Not allowing him time to continue sputtering in case they caught the attention of anyone on board, she grabbed his elbow and started to drag him down the main deck toward the stairs that led down to the captain’s quarters. It didn’t take him long to catch up to her, and she ignored his look of surprise as she walked into the cabin, smiled at him and shut the door in his face.

  She waited behind the closed doors until she heard his footsteps fade away, afraid Thor might have also been given orders to lock her in.

  Thankfully, he did not lock the door.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she whirled about to face the room, for there was no time to waste. The cabin was set up very similarly to the one on The Sea Devil, and for a moment, she panicked that perhaps Thor had not brought all of his own weaponry on board. She first dug through a massive chest, picking the secret lock hidden on top instead of bothering with the dummy lock on the front. She knew how these things worked. She never would have survived as long as she had if she didn’t.

  Inside the chest was a stash of rum, some blankets and a beautiful sword scabbard. She thought that it would be a good weapon to use, except when she opened it, she found the blade to be so tiny, one would barely even use it for an eating knife.

  “Useless,” she muttered. Was that some sort of joke? If she didn’t know better, she’d say that Thor had already been here and planted that ridiculous excuse for a weapon to taunt her.

  The chest contained nothing much else of use, so she shut it back up and moved to the bed. A
s she suspected, after tugging the mattress from the frame, there was a secret compartment, and while it had some precious metals and jewels inside that she would very much like to take, they wouldn’t help in saving her arse if she ended up at the end of some scoundrel’s blade or pistol.

  Not bothering to put the mattress back, she marched over to the desk on the far wall and searched through the drawers, finding a seal breaker, a flint and a few scraps of parchment. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Much the same as the desk on board The Sea Devil. What was with these boring pirates?

  This was not the plan at all, and she found herself growing quite frustrated. So frustrated, she slammed her hand against the wall, feeling the sudden burst that usually came from fighting.

  But also sudden shock.

  For the wall panels swung open to reveal an arsenal. Holy pirates, she’d never seen so many weapons in one place. Swords, daggers, pistols, long guns, crossbows, maces, axes and a few things she wasn’t quite sure of. She had her pick of weapons.

  A squeal of excitement bubbled from her throat.

  There was no way she wasn’t going to be in this fight now. Thor could just try and stop her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  No matter what tactic he tried, Thor couldn’t shake their pursuers. By now, he was convinced it was Santiago’s armada in pursuit. He wasn’t surprised. The man had been the one to set the meeting place. In fact, when Mari had given the coordinates to Lachlan to relay to Thor, she’d done so with a warning that nothing was as it seemed, and not to underestimate their enemy. Apparently, Santiago had had a spark in his eye that Mari had found suspicious.