“Because aside from being clever little bastards, there’s something else you’re good at.” Elazar took a long swig off of the rum, then slammed the bottle down on the desk and rose to his feet. “Breeding.”
Her mouth went dry. The threatened rain had begun and coursed through the broken window. She could feel it making its way beneath her bodice and soaking into her chemise, but it felt distant compared to that moment, as though she felt it through someone else’s skin.
“What?” Her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.
“That’s why we took you. When we try breeding with humans, it never turns out right. The mother usually dies, taking the child with her. When the child survives, it’s just a useless human and as barren as a mule.” He came closer to her, each step a slow calculation. Though his face looked perfectly human for the moment, she could see him for what he truly was beneath that mask. A great cat, stalking his prey. “But the kin are different. You breed so fast I think you’d overtake the world if we didn’t hunt you. You can even breed with us. Half the time the kittens are rats, but the other half they’re cats.”
She felt a few strands of the rope give way and her chest tightened with tearful relief. “This is all some terrible mistake. I’m not what you think I am.”
“Even the rat daughters will still have use, since they’ll eventually grow up and can breed. But, the rat sons?” Elazar paused to grin toothily, his eyes flashing yellow. “Nothing has to go to waste.”
He was looming over her now. She shrank back further against the wall, frantically working the rope against the nail. Her mind flashed back to when Liam caught her in his cabin. She’d been tied then, too, but hadn’t truly feared him. Distrusted him, yes, but he hadn’t hurt her or touched her without her desiring it. He certainly hadn’t casually implied he’d rape her and eat her children.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for a plump little rat of my own,” Elazar said as he reached down to grab her by one arm. She tried to resist, but curved claws dug in and made her yelp before she was yanked to her feet.
He looked her over with a faint frown. He’d grabbed her before on the merchant ship, but must not have paid attention to her height then. “Well, perhaps not so little.”
Standing, she was nearly as tall as the captain, which quelled some of her fear. She had been self-conscious of her size since she was a child and even with all of Liam’s attention, it was difficult for her to believe he found her beautiful. Dressed as a lad with her breasts bound, she’d drawn little suspicion to herself. Tall as a man and solidly built, she was far from the petite ideal of a woman. Yet for once, she was grateful. No matter how terrifying he tried to be, he couldn’t make her feel small and weak. She wasn’t. Seeing the surprise in his eyes when he realized her height gave her a jolt of courage.
She jerked her arm free from his grasp, ignoring the way his claws sliced through her sleeve and the flesh beneath.
“Touch me and you will die,” she snarled, sliding to the side.
When she was no longer caught between him and the wall, she began backing herself up toward the desk. Each step masked the movements behind her back as she kept fighting against the half-cut rope.
Elazar turned to continue stalking her, a smirk on his face. “If you try to shift, it won’t end well for you. You’re on a ship full of cats.”
“I don’t bloody know what shift means!” she snapped, giving her arms a jerk. One wrist slipped from the rope, until it caught around the wide part of her palm and her thumb.
The captain lunged forward, slamming her back into the desk behind her with his body. She grit her teeth as she continued to struggle. One of his hands curled in her hair to hold her in place as the other started working her skirts up. She folded her thumb as far into her palm as she could before pulling her wrist free, whimpering under her breath at the scrape of the rope across her skin. Her now free hands slid over the desk behind her, feeling for a weapon.
Her right hand closed around the neck of the rum. It was a nice, heavy bottle.
“If you’re good and don’t make a fuss, you’ll live much longer. I have no reason to mistreat you,” Elazar said cajolingly.
“Here’s a reason!”
She swung with the bottle, striking him on the side of the head. He looked stunned for a moment, but the angle hadn’t been ideal and he still held her. She took advantage of his momentary confusion to bring one foot up, kicking him hard in the stomach and away from her. Once she could pull herself off the desk, she swung again with all her might. This time it connected with a sickening thud and he staggered to his knees. She hit him a third time and only when he was collapsed on the floor did she stop.
Brigid stood over the fallen pirate with the now bloody bottle in her hand, panting for breath. Thoughts of escape began to filter through her mind, but she was at a loss for where to start.
“You really know how to take the thunder out of a man’s heroic rescue.”
There was only one man in the world with an accent as mangled and homeless as that. She turned to the window to see Liam crouched there in it. He was drenched to the bone and wearing clothes she didn’t recognize, but looked quite healthy. An expression of bemused admiration was in his eyes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
REVENGE HELD BACK
LIAM barely had time to climb the rest of the way through the window before he found Brigid in his arms. He stood there for a moment, surprised by her exuberance, then wrapped his arms around her to squeeze her to him. It was just relief at finding one another alive, he told himself. He could ignore the way that his heart leaped at holding her again or how it became difficult to breathe for the tightness in his chest.
“Did they hurt you, luv?” he asked as he buried his face in the side of her neck, reacquainting himself with her scent.
“A few scratches. Nothing important.”
“Good.” He drew back from the embrace so he could consider the cabin. Even with glass over them, the flames of the lamps were flickering in the wind from the storm. Coupled with the way the ship rocked on the roughening sea, it felt disorienting. “We need to find our things and then—”
Soft lips pressed to his, silencing him. One of his hands moved to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking against her skin. His other arm remained tight around her waist and drew her yet closer. It was easy to lose himself in the kiss, especially with her soft curves molded to his body. The storm and the longboat outside were far from his mind as they kissed. Voices elsewhere on the ship were what finally pulled him away from that perfect moment. His hands moved to Brigid’s upper arms and gently pushed her back.
“We need to get out of here, luv. There’s a storm outside and I don’t know how long Robert can keep the longboat afloat alone,” Liam said.
“Robert?” Brigid looked confused, then turned toward the window.
“The cook from our ship. He hid and survived, but we need to hurry.”
He could watch as Brigid composed herself once again. She took a deep breath, her brows knotted together, then closed her eyes and exhaled as she relaxed. “All right. Things they took from the ship are over by the desk.”
Liam nodded, then went over to look for their belongings. The two bags sat haphazardly on the floor of the cabin, surrounded by other goods. It didn’t look as though they’d been searched yet. He crouched down to open up his bag, then said a silent prayer of thanks. He pulled his mother’s ring and its chain out to set it around his neck again, then took a look around the cabin. It took a few seconds to find everything he’d need for his distraction.
He picked up the bottle of extra lamp oil, noting that Brigid was rifling through the drawers in the desk and pouring out everything that looked remotely valuable into a small purse she’d found somewhere.
“For someone who hates pirates, you’re awful gifted at thieving,” he said.
She looked up at him with a frown, then gave her head a small shake. “I had to kill him to protect myself
. I lost the passage on our ship, which I paid for out of my own pocket. Innocent people are dead. I don’t think taking some of a dead man’s pieces of eight is unfair under the circumstances.”
“I’m not judging, luv. Just commenting.”
She shook her head again and refocused on what she was doing. Normally, he didn’t have much curiosity about other people or how they’d come to the opinions and decisions they had, yet Brigid had a way of making him want to know. He couldn’t say what it was about her that did it. Just the natural mystery of her, he supposed.
He tore open a chest, then tossed the clothes inside onto the bed. Once he poured the oil on top of them, he dropped the bottle carelessly and walked over to the captain’s body for his pistol. The man had fallen on his back, so it was easy to take hold of the flintlock and draw it free from the dead man’s belt.
The captain groaned.
Liam stilled, watching the man for a moment. “Luv, you didn’t kill him.”
He could hear Brigid’s plunder of the cabin stop. A moment later she was beside him. “Oh. Well. We’d better hurry out of here before he wakes up then.”
Liam made a noncommittal sound before he stood up with the pistol in hand. He tucked it into his belt with his other weapons. “There’s a pair of manacles in my bag. Get them out and lock him up.”
If there was a pistol, the captain had gunpowder. A quick search found him a bag. He poured the rum from the bloody bottle out onto the floor, then filled up the bottle with the black powder before stuffing the neck with a piece of the oiled cloth he tore off and twisted into a wick. Keeping it under pressure would be necessary for his plan. When he finished, he turned around to check on Brigid’s progress and found her staring at him in horror.
“What?” he demanded.
“I’m not going to chain up an injured man! You’re going to start a fire in here, aren’t you? That’s a horrible way for a person to die.”
He gave her a grim look, but didn’t argue the point. “I’ve seen worse.”
The look on her face asked the question before she could put it into words. She wanted to know what was worse, which was not a conversation he cared to have. Liam shook his head and crossed the room to gather up the lamps. One he set in the windowsill, the others he tucked along the headboard of the captain’s bed.
“We’ll do it your way then. Let the bastard have a chance of getting out. Happy?” Liam asked.
“Why do you even have manacles in your bag?”
Ignoring her question, he grabbed onto their bags and headed back to the window before leaning out. Robert was still below, but struggling to keep the longboat near the ship without being crushed. Liam didn’t dare yell, instead waiting until Robert saw him so he wouldn’t startle the man or hit him with one of the bags. He gauged the distance carefully, then tossed out first Brigid’s bag and then his own. Robert’s belongings hadn’t been taken from the ship, since they hadn’t looked valuable and no one was going to steal him away to keep him for a broodmare.
Liam turned back to see Brigid still staring at him, which made him sigh heavily. Everything would take ten times longer if she was going to be angry with him rather than helping.
“You did threaten me with a gun, if you’ll recall,” Liam said. “And then there were your knives. Can’t forget your mean feet kicking me in the shins either.”
She crossed her arms and lowered her head slightly, giving him a glare that could curdle milk. “I was trying to escape from you.”
“How did I know you weren’t going to try to escape with the map some night while I slept?” he countered.
That bastard Elazar groaned again. Liam swore quietly before he went back to the chest at the end of the bed to grab the rope there. “Would you at least help me secure this rope so we can climb out safely? You can tell me how awful I am once we’re safe.”
Her glare didn’t diminish at all, but Brigid moved to help him with the rope. The bed seemed to be the most solid thing to tie it to, so they anchored the rope to one of the legs. They’d just have to finish climbing down before the fire burned through the rope, he thought.
“You’re a terrible man,” Brigid said once they’d tossed the rope through the window and down to Robert below.
Those four words stung like a slap in the face. There was nothing that came to mind to say in his defense, though, so he let it rest. Getting off the ship and to safety were more important than her opinion of him.
“You go down first,” he said, offering her his hand to help her up into the window.
She ignored the offered hand and climbed up on her own before taking hold of the rope and beginning her descent. Liam leaned against the window frame to watch her until she was about halfway down. Only then did he climb up to follow. Once he was through the window, he reached back inside to pick up the lamp he’d set there. He stared at the captain’s body where it lay on the floor, hoping the man wouldn’t wake up to escape. Awake and trying to escape without being able to would be best, but he’d take what he could get.
He threw the glass lamp as hard as he could at the headboard. It shattered and hot oil splattered over the bed. The wick lit some of the clothes and the fire began to spread. Liam smiled in grim satisfaction before he continued his way down the rope.
Robert was as close as he could get, but it wasn’t close enough. Brigid had dropped into the sea and was climbing over the side of the longboat with the cook’s help. Liam dropped in behind her since he was already wet and didn’t have all the clothes she did to weigh him down. Just as he pulled himself into the longboat, there was an explosion up above them that shook the ship.
“What was that?” Robert asked.
“Gunpowder,” Liam said.
He took the oars from Robert to start rowing them away from the ship as fast as they could. As he worked, he looked up toward the cabin. The blast from his bomb had helped spread the fire faster, far beyond control. He could see the flames climbing through the window. The ship would be lost. Even if his parents’ murderer survived, he could take that satisfaction. He’d lose his ship and be incapable of pursuing them.
Robert handed Brigid one of the pots he’d taken from the kitchen and the both of them worked to bail out water as it sloshed into the longboat from the choppy sea. Everything would be soaked thoroughly, between the waves and the rain, but none of that was particularly new to Liam. He felt a brief flash of gratitude toward Donny for his foresight in putting the map on leather as he had. He’d already abandoned a job, been lost at sea and given up his chance at vengeance for the treasure. The whole journey would be pointless without it.
He glanced toward Brigid, who was too focused on keeping water out of their boat to go on glaring at him. That was a small mercy at least. Later, they could talk. He wasn’t sure how much later that would take, though. If it came to it, he knew he and Brigid could tread water for days. The same couldn’t be said for the poor old cook, though. It would be hard to keep their belongings as well. Taking turns shifting with one in human form to carry a bag had been his original plan for escaping the Gato del Diablo. As a rat, he knew he could stay at sea for days if necessary, though going into human form and holding the bag would be tiring.
It was difficult to judge the time, but he thought a half an hour passed before the storm settled down. The wind continued and the sea hadn’t calmed much, but the rain stopped and the skies cleared somewhat. Liam stopped rowing to take advantage of the clarity. He leaned back to consider the sky. Some stars were visible, as was the moon. It was a start.
“The good news is we’re heading in the right direction. The bad news is I have no idea where we actually are, since there’s no telling if we were going in circles during the storm.”
Brigid glanced up at the sky as well. “But if we keep going in the right direction, we’ll get to land eventually, right?”
“Aye, but it could take a while,” Liam said.
The old cook patted Brigid on the shoulder. “I brought grog and h
ardtack. It’s not ideal, but it’ll keep our strength up and we won’t die of thirst.”
She pursed her lips in a frown, nodding. “Do you want me to take over, Liam? I can’t imagine crippling yourself is going to do us much good.”
He hesitated at the offer. The truth was, his arms felt like they were going to fall off and he was doubtful of his ability to keep rowing. He was a strong, fit young man, but it had been a fight against the Caribbean and the repetitive motion of rowing was quite a bit different from climbing rope or hauling supplies or even swinging a sword.
Before he came up with his answer, Brigid’s eyes lit up and she stared off to the southwest. “Is that a ship?”
Liam turned to look, then grinned broadly. Robert let out a whoop of triumph. The ship looked to be a league off, but was heading in their direction purposefully enough that chances seemed good they’d be seen.
Not wanting to take a chance, Liam carefully stood up in the longboat to wave his arms over his head and call out. With the winds pushing toward the northeast, the ship could change course quickly depending on where it was headed. As it was, the ship was fighting to come in the direction of the boat.
When it came closer, an English voice called out to them. “Is that your ship burning?”
Liam turned to look back toward the fiery wreck of the Gato del Diablo. He’d wanted to disable it. He hadn’t even thought it could serve as a signal fire for help. “No, that there’s Spanish pirates. We’re the ones who started the fire.”
“Well done!” the man’s voice called back.
The English ship moved closer alongside them and ropes were tossed down to the longboat. They tied their boat to the side of the ship, then began handing their things up to their rescuers before climbing up themselves.
A well-dressed man in his early thirties offered Liam his hand as soon as he was over the side. He was tall with a neat beard and mustache and his brown hair pulled back in a tie at the nape of his neck. “Captain Sebastian Rackham, welcome to the Dark Beauty.”
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