Captive to a Pirate

by Lilith T. Bell

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  LIES REVEALED

  LIAM dropped the manacles onto the stand beside the bed before he collapsed to catch his breath. Brigid shifted against him, curling up into his side and nuzzling at his neck. He smiled sleepily and wrapped his arms around her to pull her body closer to his. Getting some sleep during the night and being well-rested for their journey to the island the next day would be the wisest course of action, but after having been deprived of intimacy with her he wasn’t sure if he could do that. Instead, he was already considering what they could do together once he had rested. Letting her use her lips on him again sounded tempting.

  “What were those things that took me?” Brigid asked.

  “Hm?” He shifted slightly to look down at her, his brows knotted together in puzzlement at the question.

  “The crew of the Gato del Diablo. The captain called them catkind. What are they?”

  Liam stared at her in shock, wondering what the hell had been wrong with Donny that he had never warned his daughter about their mortal enemies. “They’re cat shifters. They can turn into those big cat-men things you saw or shift completely so they look no different than any old stray.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then gave a small nod. “And they killed your parents?”

  The good cheer he’d been feeling from their lovemaking died instantly. He sighed and dropped his head back against the pillow behind it. “Aye, they did. They can interbreed with our kind and when they found a small colony of us in Jamaica, they started slaughtering all the men and boys so they could keep the women for themselves.”

  He felt Brigid’s fingers stroke against the thin scars on his cheek. “How’d you escape?”

  “My mother and I were trying to get away with some of the other women and children. Some had shifted and were scurrying inland, but they were the first to die when the cats finished with the men and went after. My mother took me off in another direction and we got into my da’s fishing boat. The cats don’t like to get wet, understand. They might go after us in their ship, but it would be slow. It was a good plan.”

  Liam stared up at the ceiling, though he didn’t see it. Instead, his mind was replaying everything from that day as though it was all new again. “One of the cats caught us before we got very far. Elazar. I found out his name later, when I tried to learn more about him for revenge. I was pushing the boat out into the water while my mother was getting the sails. He came up behind me and snatched me by the arm, then told my mother if she wanted me to live she’d better get off the boat. She did what he said. She said she’d do whatever he wanted, if he’d just let me go.”

  “And then what happened?” Brigid prompted gently.

  He closed his eyes, struggling to face the memories. “He let me go. Said I didn’t matter none. He grabbed my mother, but she’d been hiding a knife. I think it was one of my father’s. She went to stab him, but the bastard was too fast. He took it from her and they started to struggle. I ran to try to help her and that’s when he turned on me and raked his claws across my face. My mother screamed at me to run. So…I shifted. I hid under a pile of rocks on the beach and I listened to him kill my mother.”

  There was silence when he finished speaking. If Brigid was even breathing, he couldn’t hear it. What felt like hours but was likely only a few seconds passed and then she slid her arms around him to hug him fiercely. “Your mother would be glad you’re alive, you know. She sacrificed herself to keep you safe.”

  “I know. Doesn’t mean I like it any.”

  He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes to look down at her. The sight of those red curls on his chest made him smile despite the dark memories he’d dredged up. His fingers combed through her hair affectionately. “Your da had some dealings with the colony. Family there, you understand. He came a few days later. Everyone else was gone, but he found me. He helped clean up my wounds and we buried the dead. He suggested I take something to remember my family. Something easy to keep.” He felt Brigid’s hand move to place her fingers over the ring he wore around his neck and he nodded to her. “He found me work on a ship and always made sure I had food to eat. Taught me how to be a man and a rat.”

  “A rat.”

  The way Brigid said the word seemed a bit odd. He moved to look down at her again. She had raised her head and was supporting herself on both hands as she stared at him.

  “Aye, what of it?” he asked.

  “You and my father are the rat version of catkind?”

  He stared at her in dumbfounded shock. Surely he had to have misunderstood her question. It made no sense otherwise. Liam ducked down to nuzzle behind her ear and inhale there. The scent was still there, as it had been the first time he’d sniffed her. It was faint, true, but he’d assumed it was because she hadn’t shifted recently. Their scent was less obvious then, becoming masked by the human form.

  “Ratkin. We’re called ratkin. Don’t you know what you are?” he asked.

  She pulled away with a troubled look, shaking her head. “I’m not anything.”

  “You mean you don’t shift?”

  “No. Should I?”

  He dragged a hand through his hair and looked away from her while he mulled that over. She wasn’t ratkin. She couldn’t be if she had reached adulthood without shifting. But she had the right scent. “You must have taken after your mother. I didn’t know that was possible,” he commented quietly.

  “What are you talking about?” she demanded.

  Settling in against the bed again, he took a deep breath. Why hadn’t Donny told her all of this? Even if she was only a half-breed, there were still dangers. “You know your parents had a few sons before you were born, aye?” He saw her nod. At least she knew that much. “Do you know how they died?”

  “Sickness, same as most children that die that young.”

  “No, luv. Not quite. Your father was ratkin, like me. Your mam, though, she’s a half-breed. One of her parents was ratkin, but the other was an ordinary human. Half-breed women run the chance of having ratkin children and if they’re with a ratkin male, I thought it was guaranteed. Usually, we start shifting when we’re around five or so. Sometimes it takes as late as sixteen.” He paused and fixed Brigid with a look. Maybe she was younger than she appeared. “Just how old are you?”

  “Nineteen.”

  He shook his head with a sigh. There went that theory. “Anyway, your brothers all began shifting very early. One shifted a few hours after he was born. The other two were about a year old. Even with a ratkin mother, a shift that early is dangerous. With a mother who couldn’t shift at all, they were fairly well doomed. They couldn’t get the care they needed and they died.”

  “Why didn’t they ever tell me?” Brigid said softly. It was phrased as a question, but it seemed meant more for herself than Liam. He tried to answer it just the same.

  “Maybe they planned to tell you when you started shifting or you got married. I’m not sure. I was just a child the last time I lived with a kin colony, so I don’t know what the tradition is with a half-breed. I never even met one before you.”

  Brigid slid off the bed, leaving his side cold where she was no longer curled against it. He watched her cross the room to the table, then come back with the rum. She took a long swig off the bottle. “And you’re sure I’m one of these things? A half-breed?”

  He spread his hands and shrugged. “No. I thought you smelled like one of us, but if you don’t shift that’s the only thing you could be.”

  She looked down at the bottle in her hands, her lashes lowered to block his view of her eyes. He heard her sniffle, though. “So my father told you the truth about what happened to my brothers, but he never told me. And he never even told you I exist.”

  It was true that Donny having a daughter had been a surprise to him. He’d just thought that was the older man keeping his family life private. It was strange, though. He’d been forthcoming about the deaths of his sons. Why hadn’t he mentioned his daughter? “N
o, I guess he didn’t.”

  “I must have been a terrible disappointment to him.”

  “Oh, luv, no. I can’t believe that.” He sat up and moved closer to her, then hesitated before sliding his arms around her. He really didn’t consider himself to be any good at comfort, but he had to do something and touch was the only thing he knew to do. “Maybe he didn’t want you to feel you were missing something. I can’t imagine it’s easy being a half-breed.”

  “And do you think that’s why he never brought you home? He left a little boy all alone to work on ships, rather than let me find out the truth?”

  Liam felt his heart stop. He’d always wondered why Donny was so kind to him, but didn’t do more than find him work. He had shown no lack of empathy for a little lost orphan, but he hadn’t offered his home to Liam either, had he? That lack and feeling as though the world owed him something had been one of the largest factors in why Liam had kept the map. Maybe it had pushed him into piracy as well. If the world didn’t want him, then he’d simply take what he needed.

  “Maybe,” he said quietly.

  Brigid took a deep breath, then let it out in a heavy sigh before she took another swig off of the rum. “I’m sorry. I’m just awful all around, aren’t I?”

  He pulled the bottle away from her and set it on the nightstand. “No, you’re not. Your father loved you. He worked until his dying day to provide for you. Those aren’t the actions a person takes for someone who’s awful.”

  “I think awful people have things done for them all the time,” she countered, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, Liam.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for,” he told her forcefully. “Now you stop saying you’re sorry. Your father wanted a good life for you. If that life wasn’t supposed to involve other ratkin, so be it. That’s not your fault. He was trying to protect you.”

  She said nothing more, so he couldn’t judge whether or not his words had helped. Brigid only crawled under the blankets and laid her head down on a pillow. The fact that she wasn’t making a nest as they had done before when sharing a bed wasn’t lost on him. He stared at her for a moment, wishing that he could know what mysteries were evolving in her mind. Her father had known her since she was born and hadn’t told her that he was ratkin. Perhaps he’d known something Liam didn’t, such as how she’d react to finding out she was incapable of doing something she should have been able to do since childhood.

  After a moment of watching her, it became clear she really had no intentions of making the bed more comfortable for a ratkin. She fully intended to sleep in that stiff, straight human manner. Liam slid under the blankets to lie next to her, then cautiously draped an arm over her waist. He feared she might reject the gesture, but instead she turned to press closer to him and curled in against his side.

  He closed his eyes and nuzzled into her hair. Ignorance never seemed like a kindness to him, but he did wish he that he had let her keep hers if the truth caused her such pain.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  LOST

  IT was little trouble to find a fishing boat to rent the next morning. Traversing the dangerous waters around New Providence was far more difficult. The community’s entire economy was based around wrecking, which was the salvage of ships that sank after striking the reefs throughout the Bahamas. Luckily, Liam’s experience at sailing and the familiarity Brigid had from being shown to the island before by her father helped.

  “I’m going to need the map once we’re on the land,” Brigid said, turning to look at Liam over her shoulder.

  “Got it right here,” he said, patting the side of his coat.

  She nodded, satisfied, then turned to look out toward the island as they approached it. “Do you see that big gap between the rocks there?”

  “Aye, I figured that would be our approach.”

  “As would most people.” Brigid smiled a bit at that. “But we’ll actually be going through the much smaller gap to the east. The big gap has coral that will rip through the bottom of the boat.”

  “Clever. Donny must have had to swim up and perch on the rocks to be able to figure out the safe approach.”

  She shrugged, unsure of how her father had done it. While Liam managed the wheel, she took the sails and adjusted them on his command. It was a tight fit through the narrow opening, but they made it without striking the rocks on either side and she breathed a bit easier at that.

  “We can’t land on this side of the island. This is where he put all of the traps. We’ll have to circle around to the north shore.”

  Liam scoffed quietly, but followed her directions. “Bloody hell. You weren’t lying about it being impossible without you.”

  “He was very thorough.” There was no effort to hide the pride in her voice. Knowing her father’s efforts had impressed Liam pleased her. It didn’t quite take away the dull ache that had settled into the pit of her stomach since their talk the night before, but it helped.

  As they circled inside the ring of coral that surrounded the island, she kept directing him to avoid various dangerous points along the way. It was a laboriously slow approach, but it was far safer than destroying their borrowed boat and leaving themselves trapped on an island that she doubted could support a single person, let alone two.

  Once they finally made it to the clear part of the beach, she jumped out to help pull the boat into the sand. Liam tossed two shovels out onto the sand, then followed. They used ropes to secure it to the nearest tree they could reach. She turned to give him an expectant look. He considered her for a moment, then reached inside of his coat to pull out a rolled up, battered piece of leather. He placed it in her hand and her fingers closed around it.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He made a noncommittal sound, nodding slightly.

  Brigid shook the map out and looked it over, smiling fondly at her father’s writing. That he had spent ages working on the map and perfecting it was clear. As with everything he’d ever done, he’d done his best.

  “All right. This way,” she said, before leading him toward the treeline.

  The island was small, which was likely for the best. No one would ever be interested in settling on it and carefully skirting all of her father’s traps while winding their way around its interior didn’t take nearly as long as it might have if there had been more land to cover. Finally, she counted off paces from a charred stump, then pointed at a spot on the ground.

  “This should be it.”

  Liam stepped over to consider the spot, then offered her a shovel before he used his own to start chopping through the roots and undergrowth that had spread to mask her father’s treasure. She set to work alongside him, finding the physical labor a relief. It didn’t take much thought, but the steady movement and focus on something mindless helped clear her head. All she saw and thought about were the roots and the thick grass and then finally the sand beneath.

  They were three feet down when she felt her shovel strike something hard. On a coral island, that wasn’t that unusual, but she felt a surge of hope. She scraped with the shovel for a moment to feel out the size and shape of the hard object, then finally managed to brush away enough sand to see wood.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” Liam murmured beside her.

  They busied themselves at clearing the sand from around the chest until they could each take hold of an end of it, then pull it up out of the hole. It was far heavier than she had been expecting and she winced and shook out her arms once she finally set it down. Brigid brushed the sand off her hands, then crouched down to look at the chest. It was locked.

  “He didn’t leave me a key. Did he leave one with his personal affects?” she asked, looking up at Liam.

  “Not that I found, but I’d thought he might have locked it. Here.”

  Liam pulled a pouch out of his coat and offered it to her. She took the pouch and opened it up, unsurprised to find a lock-picking kit within. She had to blow quite a bit of sand out of the lock and fiddle with it for a few mo
ments, but soon she felt the pieces within click into place. Her hands slid over the lid of the chest as she silently thought over everything she had done to find it and everything her father had done to leave it for her.

  She pushed the lid up. Inside, it was completely full of rough cloth sacks and each sack had a number painted on it. Curiously, she picked one up at random. It had the number eighteen on it. She pulled open the drawstring and looked inside, then nearly fainted at what she saw.

  “Are they all like this?” she asked as she poured the pieces of eight out into her hand. There were some bits of jewelry and raw jewels as well, but for the most part it was all Spanish gold and silver.

  “One way to find out.” Liam knelt beside her and reached into the chest to grab another bag. When he picked it up, Brigid noticed something beneath it. A letter was folded up and tucked among the bags, a circle of wax sealing it.

  “Wait.” She put a hand on Liam’s arm to stop him from opening up any of the other bags. Brigid picked up the letter and broke the wax seal, then sentimentally slipped the wax into her pocket to keep. Her father had set it, after all.

  “What’s it say, luv?”

  Brigid glanced over at him, then began to read the letter out loud. Seeing her father’s handwriting addressed to her one last time made tears swim across her vision, but she fought to read through them.

  My dear Brigid;

  I am so sorry that I could not bring this to you myself. If you are reading this, then that must mean that I did not manage to retire from sailing. I wanted to be sure your mother and you would be cared for, however, and so this is the majority of what I have collected. The bags marked one through nine are for your mother to do with as she pleases. If I told her how I wanted her to spend it, I know she’d do something else to spite me.

  That made her pause, smiling affectionately. Her father had known her mother very well. She imagined some of her own stubbornness came from that same place.