by Justin Sloan
Valerie grabbed her by the arm and spun her back. “I told you, it’s not that. Listen, if anything happens to you, your family will be stuck in slavery. Nobody else knows what they look like. It’s all on you. I know that’s a lot to worry yourself about.”
The two stood there, staring each other down, and then Robin leaned in, delicately, and placed her lips against Valerie’s, gently, never once closing her eyes. When she pulled back, Valerie leaned forward with the departing lips, as if that would keep them together, but Robin was leaning away now, lips pursed and a very confused look in her eyes.
“That’s what you wanted, right?”
Valerie licked her lips, confused. “I didn’t not want it.”
“Come on, I know how you look at me.”
“You don’t look back?”
That caused Robin to pause, but then she shrugged. “The point is that’s out of the way now. No more wondering if it’s going to be the most amazing feeling that either of us has ever experienced, because it’s done. We’re here to focus on two things, and neither of those allow for us playing it safe.”
Valerie wanted to argue, to tell her that, yeah, it was one of the most amazing feelings of her life, those soft lips barely touching hers. Instead, she nodded, gulping down her words and stuffing her emotions into a box that would only be opened when she saw the pirates overthrown and Robin’s family rescued.
“I…” Robin’s gaze took on a distant look and she looked vulnerable for a moment, but then whatever she was about to say was gone, and the firm stare returned. “Now, let’s get this over with.”
“Agreed,” Valerie said, but before Robin could turn away she said, “And then we’re doing that again.”
Robin bit her lip, trying to hide the smile, and then walked off. Valerie was about to join her, when she saw Cammie in the shadows watching with a huge grin.
“Oh, shit,” Valerie said, trying to walk past her.
“You’re not getting off that easy,” Cammie said, matching her stride. “You never told me you were a rug muncher.”
“A what?”
“You know.” She nodded ahead to Robin. “But… what about Jackson? How do you explain that?”
“Shut up, Cammie. You’re one to talk.”
“Oh, I don’t deny my sexual promiscuity and openness to trying new flavors. You want to know what happened with Esmerelda and Presley behind closed doors? Shit, find us a side room, and I’ll show you right now.”
“Cammie!” Valerie hit her, gently, but apparently it hurt because Cammie yelped and pulled back, the smile fading for a moment. “Sorry.”
“No, girl, play rough. I like that, too.”
“I will seriously shut you up if you don’t do it yourself.” Valerie stepped forward, threateningly. “You doubt it?”
“Okay, okay, you’re touchy when it comes to your relationships, I get it.” Cammie stood there, trying not to smirk, but unable to help it. “What’s wrong, Jackie-boy didn’t bring the O?”
“Cammie…”
Cammie folded her arms and cocked her head to the side, waiting.
“God…” Valerie looked around to ensure no one was listening. “Okay, he was amazing, but it just didn’t work out. Now, I feel things, right? It’s not different or better, I can’t explain it. It’s just I felt something for him then, realized it can’t be, and feel something for her now. Can it be? Probably not, but for now… we’ll see.”
“Damn, I was hoping it was just some sexual thing,” Cammie said with a look of disgust. “Not all this touchy-feely stuff.”
“Oh, and you and Royland aren’t all lovey-dovey?”
Cammie blushed. “Homeboy brings it. And when I mean he brings it, I mean…” She held up her hands, a good distant apart, but Valerie waved her off.
“No, not like that.”
“Oh…” Cammie rolled her eyes. “Yes, we’re serious, okay. More serious than I’ve ever been. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“What? Why?”
“That kinda stuff’s personal.”
Valerie just stared, mouth open. “THAT kind of stuff is personal?”
Cammie shrugged. “Yeah, I mean… sex stuff’s like whatever. It’s physical, anyone can do it. But this internal stuff? No one has to see it. Not that many people even experience it, right? So… personal.”
Valerie couldn’t believe it, but the woman was actually kind of making sense. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to start describing Jackson’s manhood to you. Same goes with Robin’s womanhood, if that ever happens.”
“Tell you what,” Cammie offered, leaning in conspiratorially, “you don’t ask me about the internal stuff, I won’t ask you about the physical.”
“Deal.” Valerie looked along the corner and saw Royland and Robin there with several others behind them, swords gleaming in the faint light. “What do you say we go kick some pirate butt?”
“I say they better have big ol’ butts, because I plan on doing lots of kicking.”
“You’re weird, Cammie. As long as you know that.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Valerie laughed. “Me neither.”
They continued on, and the others simply nodded, Robin avoiding Valerie’s gaze, and then they all headed out through the tunnel. Valerie found her heart racing at the idea of getting to play dress up and infiltrate a group of pirates. It would be fun, she thought, to attempt subterfuge for once, instead of simple brute force.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Isle of the Prince, Hotel
“Where is she?” the Prince demanded, his head already starting to pound. Not only had Bairne not returned with news of a dead or captured she-devil, but Jessabel had failed to bring him to finish. As far as he was concerned, the world was imploding around him. “You can be damn sure that if I go down, I’m taking all you fucks with me.”
The room of pirates simply stared and, as he walked past them, he noticed one of his lieutenants still had his pants down. They all stood as the Prince entered, apparently not taking the time to make themselves presentable.
With the pounding in his head and the frustration of this lack of good news, the Prince found his arms shaking.
As the pirate bent to pull up his trousers, the Prince caught him by the hair, drew his short-blade, and slit the man’s throat.
“Is this how you present yourselves before royalty?” he demanded, dropping the pants-less, still shaking, dying man to the floor. “You scum, do any of you have a clue where you’d be without me?!”
The rest just stared at him, not a one of them able to answer that.
“Nowhere,” he finally said in almost a whisper, then sunk into his throne—a wicker chair adorned with strings of ears and fingers he had collected over the years.
Jessabel cleared her throat, standing among the others. He pointed at her with the knife, still furious about earlier, and said, “What?”
She nodded to the window, and said, “There’s something… you ought to see.”
He sneered, exposing his teeth in a near growl, and wanted to plunge his knife into her. At least something to get a real reaction out of her.
But the alcohol was making him drowsy now, so instead of using the energy, he let his head roll to look toward the window. The sight there nearly sobered him up, and in an instant he was standing, moving to the balcony, and throwing open the door.
“Captain Kaine,” he said, recognizing the captain’s ship. “Well, then.”
“Your highness,” Jessabel said, glancing toward a man who the Prince didn’t recognize. “This man is from Kaine’s crew. He said they’ve all abandoned ship, that Kaine doesn’t stand a chance. That…” She stopped, stared at the man, and then her expression hardened.
“That we’re all royally fucked,” the man said.
Anger flared in the Prince and he spun, letting the blade fly so that it slammed into the man’s chest. Apparently, Kaine’s crew hadn’t been taught how to behave before royalty.<
br />
Well, that would be lesson one.
As he kicked the man over and bent to retrieve his blade, it hit him. A wave of dizziness came over him as he realized the man was right. If this woman was able to stand against Kaine, if his own crew lost faith in him when up against her, none of them stood a chance.
They had to retreat. They had to go for reinforcements.
They had to reach Toro and hunker down. But first, they’d crew-up at Slaver’s Peak. Yes, that was the only way.
“Ready my ship and my escort,” the Prince said. “We’re not going down without a fight. You can count on that.”
Isle of the Prince, Slums
Moonlight shone on them, low in the sky in a way that showed the night would soon be over. Eyes followed the group of two-dozen or so pirates, eyes of watchers who knew that the recent shooting was likely related to these pirates. Who else would be out on a night like this, and who else in such numbers?
When they had passed through the bit of a village, if you could call it that, and were approaching the far shore on the other side of the island, the sound of a distant banjo carried through the night, and Valerie got the distinct feeling of a place she had visited once in her early days of being a vampire, an old theme park long ago destroyed. It had a part to it that felt like a permanent night-time, but was indoors, and there, too, had been a character with a banjo.
She had hung out there with a couple of the junior vampires once, each taking turns trying to recall the old days, the days before the Duke had taken them under his wing.
And then Donovan had found them, him and his goons, and they’d smashed that place up, beat the hell out of the young vampires—all but Valerie, who they made to watch while they did it.
The day that bastard had died was a truly monumental day for this world.
It had almost gone too far, when one of those asses, the large one who had sat in the corner plucking at the banjo, came for her and tried to do more than make her watch. She still remembered the look in his eyes as he reached for her, and then the way his nose had collapsed into his face at the strike from Donovan.
She almost would’ve considered Donovan a brother at that moment if not for what had come after.
“No one touches her but me,” he said, though he never did. Still, the idea of him claiming ownership of her threw off any positive thoughts she might have otherwise had in that moment.
Then a thought hit her… That vampire, he had been with Donovan on the blimps, but she never actually saw him die. Could it be possible? She turned to the sound of the banjo, considering the idea that the Prince could actually be that vile creature.
Timing wise, it added up. And then there was the banjo, though that was a loose connection. Was it possible that the vampire had always had an affinity for pirates, so sought them out after fleeing from what would have otherwise been his death? She had a good feeling that the answer to that was yes.
Now, more than ever, she wanted to be able to sneak in there and confront him in a way that he would never suspect.
Then she’d grab him by the throat and tear it out for even thinking of her in a negative context involving harm.
“You focused?” Robin asked, joining her as they climbed into a small boat alongside River and Martha. A ‘schooner’ they called it.
“As focused as I’ll ever be.”
Soon, River and Martha, with the help of a couple others who joined them, had the boat in action. The plan was simple—get out to the other boats, one that was unoccupied, then hail the incoming vessel as if they had recently returned, and offer help. Since Valerie had no clue how all this pirate stuff worked, she had no choice but to shrug and assume the plan was sound.
The schooner made its way across the water, slowly, and she couldn’t help but be amazed at the ships anchored ahead. These were big ships, two or three masts to each one, and a bunch of that rigging stuff going on—all sorts of beams and sails that she imagined she would never know the names of, and probably never would need to, if not for the fact that she was playing the part of a pirate right now.
“Don’t worry,” Martha said, glancing over and seeing the look in her eyes. “Not many of us know a thing about these ships, either.”
“How do you sail them then?” Robin asked.
River laughed. “There’re just a few sailors, trying to teach the rest of us. Most of us function as either fighters or pack-mules, though.”
“You all made these ships?” Valerie asked, not even trying to hide the awe in her voice.
“Not exactly,” Martha said, steering the schooner toward one of the smaller ships. “Though, there were some crews from out west that came here to put a couple together. Mostly fix up jobs, a lot of the labor from…” Martha paused, glancing at Robin.
“Slaves,” Robin said, finishing the sentence for her.
Martha nodded.
“No more questions,” Valerie said, zipping her mouth. “You lead, we follow.”
“Just stick close, make like you’re being useful.”
“But don’t appear too strong,” River said. “It’ll make them suspicious of you.”
“One more question, actually,” Robin said, leaning forward anxiously in the boat. “When it comes to killing these sons of bitches, can you repeat what you just said? You know, about the slaves thing.”
Valerie frowned, but didn’t ask. Martha, however, just had to.
“Why?”
Robin clutched her sword hilt. “So that I won’t feel bad about killing any of them.”
A whistle sounded from ahead, and Martha held up a hand, then pointed. Out of the darkness, to the point that Valerie was surprised the others could even see it, a large ship was slowly approaching.
As it became more clear, Valerie had to suck in her breath in awe. That thing was a beast—literally, the front of it was curved with thick plating, the likeness of a beast’s face on it.
The sails rippled in the wind as the ship came about, and even from this far away, it was majestic to behold.
“Quick, climb aboard,” Martha commanded, and sure enough, the other schooners were unloading onto this ship and the one nearby. They went about moving ropes and whatnot, so that by the time the massive ship came to, the charade was in full force.
As they had discussed, the incoming ship soon put to anchor. Martha hailed them and offered their services, saying they had just finished unloading their own ship and were ready to come aboard if the other crew could use the help. They were waved over, gratefully.
They climbed aboard, and for the first time in a while, Valerie actually felt that going into the lion’s den style of nervous.
“Who’s the fresh fish?” a bald pirate with dark skin asked as they boarded.
“Newbies from out west,” Martha replied. “You got a big haul?”
The guy gave them a quick glance, didn’t seem to think much of them, and pointed to the opposite side of the ship. Sure enough, there were several wooden crates of the type Valerie knew had likely been destined for New York, or possibly meant for going on westwards, out to TH and his crew in Chicago, maybe. Either way, they didn’t belong to these pirates, and that bothered her.
It almost bothered her to the extent that she would pull out her sword and dole out justice. But no, for once Michael’s enforcer of justice would stay quiet in favor of justice down the line of a greater variety—taking out the Prince.
Or whatever the hell the name was of that bastard friend of Donovan’s. She racked her brain as she tried to appear weaker than she was, helping Royland and Cammie, who had joined them now, too, pretending to be a crew from another ship, lift a crate and carry it to the edge to lower over the side of the ship.
The doors banged open behind them and Valerie noticed several eyes dart up and then away just as fast… back to their work.
She was willing to bet that was Captain Kaine who had just exited. He would lead them to the Prince, to… wait a minute, she spun, realizing something.
“The fuck you doing on my ship, girl?” The large man, built like a bulldog with his scrunched up nose and broad, meaty soldiers, loomed over them, glaring right at her.
Yup, this plan had rapidly gone to shit. It was time to go with plan B, before she got the good pirates—or at least the pirates who were on her side—hurt.
“Kaine,” she said, the name and all of those memories came flooding back to her. He wasn’t the Prince, but was apparently either putting up with someone taking the leadership role, or using that someone as a puppet. “I’ve come for a reckoning.”
“Kill her,” he said, and turned as if it would be so simple.
She laughed, and as a wave of pirates appeared, pistols and swords aimed in at her, she pushed out with fear. These weren’t soldiers. These weren’t even really battle-hardened pirates, as it wasn’t like there was a royal navy of old to put up a fight. And so they buckled, some soiling their pants right there, others jumping overboard.
And then she took a step forward, letting her eyes glow red, so that more of them went running for their lives.
All, that is, but for a handful of Kaine’s followers. The ones she had guessed were vampires, though the salt of the sea hid their scent.
“You messed up my playtime,” she said. “I had so been looking forward to having my pirate time.”
“It doesn’t have to end here,” he said, pulling a pistol and a cutlass. “Maybe I cleave you in two and leave you to be eaten by the fish. That sounds rather like a pirate-thing, wouldn’t you say?”
She laughed, glancing at Robin and the others and hoping they would stay back. “Tell you what. Maybe we do it like the old captains? A duel, winner takes the ship.”
“First, you have no ship to give up,” Kaine said, scowling. “Second, I don’t think that’s how the old pirates did it.”
“But you don’t know, do you?”
He glared, then descended down the stairway with thunderous steps.
“You sure about this, Val?” Cammie asked.
Valerie was caught off guard by that. “Um, haven’t you seen what I’m capable of?”