Captive to a Pirate

by Lilith T. Bell

  “Elazar.”

  “Your mate isn’t with you,” the old cat spoke as he rose to his feet. “Good. I’d hoped you’d be the one to find us first.”

  Her eyes flicked to the birdcage where a frantic little rat was gnawing at the bars. Rage turned her vision black around the edges and she took a step closer to the man. “How dare you. My son has nothing to do with your war against the ratkin. The only reason you’re alive at all is because I begged Liam to give you mercy. And this is how you waste mercy? Attacking little boys?”

  “He’s not a boy. He’s just vermin like the rest of you. I’m willing to make a deal, though.” The aging shifter looked her up and down in a way that made her feel naked despite the layers of Liam’s clothing. She shuddered and took a step back from him. “You for the kit.”

  “My husband is going to be here any moment. I don’t think you have the room to bargain.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. If she had found them, then surely Liam couldn’t be far behind. Her confidence in him was enough to put strength in her words.

  Elazar shrugged and drew the flintlock pistol from his belt to point it casually at the cage. “Have you ever seen a rat hit by a bullet? I have no use for the kit, but—”

  Brigid stepped between him and the cage. “Don’t.”

  “Do we have a deal?”

  Her mind went back to Liam’s story of how his mother had died. If she died as his mother had, it would be a worthwhile sacrifice so long as Donny escaped. And dying would be preferable to giving the cat what he was after. “I don’t trust you. Let me set my son loose. You can keep the pistol on me the entire time, but I need to know he’s safe.”

  “Fine. Get rid of that pistol you’re carrying and then do it.”

  She glanced down at the flintlock she had taken from Liam’s cabin with a sigh, but pulled it loose from her belt before setting it carefully down on the floor. The latch on the birdcage was a simple one to pop open. Had Donny been adult-sized or a little more savvy, he could have escaped on his own. As soon as she had the cage open, she reached inside for him, carefully scooping his furry little body into her hands. “Find your da, Donny. He’ll be close by,” she whispered into one ear before nuzzling into his fur. She breathed in his scent deeply, then set him down on the floor.

  He was tiny as he ran for the door, smaller than a mouse, but he could run and he had a full coat of fur. It was better than leaving him when he was just an infant. She watched him scurry out into the street and said a silent prayer of thanks. He had been disobedient often enough that she had worried he would cling to her rather than run.

  “Perfect. Now we wait for him to bring your mate back.” Elazar had closed the distance between them. When his hand closed around her upper arm, she felt her gorge rise. “It’s wouldn’t be as fun to kill the kit and take you if your mate didn’t get to watch before he dies.”

  Turning to face him, she pulled the knife from the small of her back and thrust forward with it toward his belly. Despite his age, the old pirate remained fast and strong and threw her backward from him before she could strike. She stumbled back to hit her head into the hanging cage with a yelp. The knife clattered to the floor and she left it where it fell, turning her focus instead to rushing for the door. Port Royal had a terrible reputation, but even there a woman screaming for help as she ran from a man would draw interest.

  A solid weight slammed into her back before she made it to the door, tackling her to the floor. She struggled under him, thrashing violently to escape. Claws ripped through her shirt, slicing into the tender flesh beneath and she heard a deep, feline growl just behind her ear.

  Some instinct long-suppressed was awoken within her as she shrank away from the attack. The world came to life with new scents and sounds and even colors she had never seen before. Most striking of all, though, was the fact that his hold was no longer tight enough upon her. She ran.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  A SHOT RANG OUT

  HIS hunt throughout the night had been fruitless, beyond discovering that the catkind who had taken Donny had clearly been watching after them since they had arrived. The scent of the cat was everywhere around the inn and between it and the docks. There could only be one creature in the entire world who would have reason to hunt them so obsessively and Liam cursed himself for not ensuring that Elazar was dead years before.

  Crossing a fresh scent trail from Brigid in the morning had made him take pause, though. He wanted to think that she wouldn’t take the risk of going out on her own to search, but he wasn’t that stupid. Telling her to go back to the inn had likely only made her all the more determined to go searching for Donny.

  He had crouched down in the middle of the currently abandoned street to get closer to the scent and try to orient himself when he noticed movement in his peripheral vision. He raised his head to see a reddish little rat running toward him. Relief flooded his bloodstream and he held his hand out to let the kit crawl onto it. The little rat chattered his teeth together in pleasure as Liam stroked his fingers along Donny’s back. He looked past the kit down the street, but saw no sign of Brigid.

  “Where’s your mamaí?” he quietly asked the rat.

  Language was somewhat limited in their rat form, though not non-existent. They could communicate basic ideas, if not have particularly deep conversations. That was for adults, though. As young as Donny was and with no exposure to ratkin culture, he couldn’t express much more than animalistic panic and fear.

  Liam straightened up and set the kit on his shoulder, where Donny burrowed under the collar of his coat. “Just let me know if we’re going in the right direction, lad,” he murmured, then set off down the street.

  Between the scent trail and the occasional squeaks from Donny, he found the crumbling tavern quickly. He hesitated at the door, torn between parental concern and his need to find Brigid. Leaving Donny outside where a bird or cat could get him wasn’t an option, though.

  He pulled off his tricorne hat, then scooped the kit up from his shoulder to set him on top of his head. “Get a good hold on my hair and stay put. I can’t have you falling now.” Once he was sure Donny was settled, he covered the kit up with his hat, then pushed open the door.

  Just within the tavern, there was a pile of clothing on the floor. Liam recognized it as his own from his ship, but it was torn and bloodied in several spots and his stomach lurched nauseously. Brigid.

  Elazar was crouched atop the bar with his back to them, looking preternaturally spry for his age. He turned with a feral hiss, his teeth elongated into fangs and his eyes shifted to yellow with slit pupils.

  There was no blood on the old pirate and he appeared to have been looking at something on the other side of the bar. Liam prayed that meant Brigid was hiding behind it and was still in one piece. He drew his cutlass and crossed the room in quick strides.

  “Where the hell is my wife?”

  “Hiding.” Elazar drew his own sword as he rose to his feet on the bar, then leaped at Liam.

  The unexpected lunge forced Liam backward. He raised his blade to block Elazar’s, bringing a foot up at the same time to kick the feline shifter in the stomach. The blow only knocked the older man back for a moment before he renewed his attack. Liam felt hobbled, afraid to move too suddenly or risk losing his hat while Donny clung to him. Perhaps the kit would have been safer left outside, but the thought of abandoning his child in a street either as a tiny rodent or a naked toddler was too abhorrent to consider. It was too late, besides.

  Liam continued blocking the swings and thrusts of the Basque pirate’s sword, yet couldn’t find an opening to press an advantage without risking Donny. Inch by inch, he found himself being driven backward across the tavern, forced away by Elazar’s fury. When he felt his hip strike wood, he hesitated and it was all the advantage the feline needed. Elazar drove him savagely into the table, knocking Liam onto his back onto the wood. He felt the oil lamp that had set at the center of the table tip over when he hit it, then heard it roll
off the table and hit the floor with the crack of breaking glass. His hat was knocked loose by the table; Donny squeaked and fled.

  For a brief moment, Elazar’s eyes left Liam to follow the movements of the kit. He snarled, automatically reaching for Donny with a clawed hand. Liam reached up to grab Elazar’s wrist, no longer concerned for his own survival. “No!”

  The older pirate’s attention snapped back to Liam and he grinned an awful, toothy grin. Pressing all of his weight into the blade he held, he pushed down against Liam’s own cutlass until both of them were snug under his chin and only the slightest increase in force could open his throat.

  “I should kill you, but I’d rather let you suffer. I’ll give you a choice; stay and fight and end up seeing your son eaten and your mate submitting to me, or flee like the cowardly vermin you are and live with your guilt.” Elazar leaned forward a little further and Liam could feel battle-dulled steel digging into his flesh. “You have your son. Go ahead and take him and leave her to me.”

  Liam grunted as he pushed up against the blades. “Never. I’d die a hundred times before letting you have her.”

  The other shifter’s face twisted with a sneer. “And why would you do something that stupid?”

  “Love.” In his struggles under Elazar, he finally managed to get one foot arranged properly, then kicked up sharply into the older man’s knee. As Elazar snarled in pain, Liam used his sword hand to shove him away. Liam sprang back upright and a quick thrust and twist of his blade sent Elazar’s cutlass flying.

  Liam smiled in grim satisfaction, then stepped forward to press the edge of his blade against the older man’s throat. “This ends now.”

  Elazar smirked as Liam felt something hard press over his heart. He spared a brief glance down to verify that the cat shifter had drawn a flintlock pistol. “Sí, lo hace.”

  Instead of being afraid, Liam felt peace settle over him like a blanket on a cold night. Donny had run away. Brigid was in hiding. Though Elazar would no doubt pull the trigger with his dying breath, it would be a good death. Liam would protect his family to the last.

  When the shot rang out, he didn’t flinch. He only pressed forward with the sword to bury it in Elazar’s throat, drawing it across quickly. The older man’s eyes were wide with shock as he crumpled downward, his head nearly severed. Liam took no pride in the times he had killed before. They had been necessary for his own survival or the protection of someone else. He had long fantasized about how he would feel when he finally slayed the man who had killed his mother, though. This kill—perhaps the last time he would ever take a life—filled him with a feeling he hadn’t expected.

  It wasn’t satisfaction or pleasure. He took no sadistic delight in seeing the life leave an old man’s eyes. All he felt was relief. It was over. Even if he didn’t survive long enough to say goodbye to his family, he could die knowing they were safe.

  Liam jerked his blade free before he looked down to his own chest. There was blood splattered across it, but no hole through his shirt. He slid a hand over his heart, confused, then raised his eyes to see Brigid standing there, nude and disheveled and holding Liam’s own pistol in her hands.

  “I’m sorry. I raided your things on your ship,” she said.

  “You can steal anything you like if you’re going to use them like that, luv.” He stepped over the fallen body of Elazar and wrapped her up in his arms tightly, clutching her to him. She went still in his arms, which worried him. “Are you hurt? Did he…?” Putting all the awful things the cat shifter could have done to her into words was difficult and he found himself trailing off instead, wishing they could kill the man a second time.

  “I’m fine,” she answered quickly. She looked paler than usual and her face had that blank, shocked look to it. She continued to speak fast, barely drawing enough breath to get the words out. “It was some sort of miracle. He’d tackled me and it was just…instinct, I suppose.”

  Liam narrowed his eyes slightly, his brows drawing together. “What instinct?”

  “I shifted. He stayed between me and the door, but I ran behind the bar. I kept hiding until you had him well enough distracted so I could get the pistol from where I’d left it.”

  He settled his hands on her shoulders and pulled back from her to stare for a moment. Ann had said that the bandraught was supposed to wear off eventually, though they had believed it never did for Brigid. But if it had been in effect when she was young, when the first involuntary shifts began, would she have ever tried to shift consciously? She had never known, after all. It could have worn off years before, but without the first involuntary shift or anyone encouraging her to try, that momentous day had simply passed by unnoticed.

  “Christ’s wounds, Brigid.” He shook his head before pulling her close to him again. This time he felt her arms slide around him to cling and he exhaled in relief. Her shock seemed to be wearing off. One final squeeze and then he released her. “I’m happy for you, luv. Later on, we can celebrate this properly, but right now we have to get out of here. I have a ship waiting for us and I’m sure your mam’s half out of her mind with worry.”

  Brigid nodded and silently went to collect the pile of clothing she had worn into the tavern. She pulled it on quickly, then readjusted her weapons. The fact that she took a moment to squat beside Elazar’s body and relieve it of any valuables made Liam snort quietly. Some things never changed.

  A distant rumble that was too low for human hearing but left his ears aching made him look away from Brigid. There were other reasons they had to hurry as well. “Donny! Come on, lad.”

  The quiet distressed squeaks of the kit guided him to where Donny had hidden himself in a corner. Once he had his son on his shoulder and his hat back on his head, he turned to see if Brigid was ready to leave.

  She stood in the center of the room with an odd look on her face, her head cocked slightly to the side. “It’s an earthquake.”

  “Pardon?”

  “That’s what’s coming. There was an earthquake here the March before we met. My father was sailing, so I suppose neither of you were in Jamaica at the time. It felt like this, but not nearly so strong.” She paused, swallowing hard. “And it feels like it’s very close to beginning.”

  “Then we’d best hurry.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  THE WILD ROSE

  “WE can’t leave without warning people!”

  Liam had instructed Donny to stay in his rat form, since he was easier to carry that way. As they ran through the streets of Port Royal, Liam kept one hand cupped over where Donny sat on his shoulder to hold him in place and protect him. Brigid had little choice but to stay beside Liam as long as he was holding their son.

  “You think anyone would listen? Do you think ordinary people go around warning one another of natural disasters and get listened to?” Liam asked, then turned toward a pair of men who stood outside a shop. One wore a clerical collar and both were staring at Liam and Brigid as though they were mad. As they were both covered in splatters of blood and her hair was a wild mass of free curls, she supposed that it wasn’t an entirely uncharitable assumption.

  “Run!” Liam said to the men. “God’s judgment is here and the city’s about to be destroyed!”

  The men looked alarmed, but didn’t move.

  Liam turned to give Brigid a sardonic look, then continued the run back to the inn. She was grateful that she had thought to change into some of Liam’s clothing the night before, as chasing after him in a corset and skirts would have been a nightmare. Every person they passed sickened her, though. There was no way to warn them all in time, nor any way to make them listen. None of the humans could sense what they did. Perhaps if they had been paying attention, they would have noticed that the animals had been fleeing the city for days, but none did.

  “Wait! I have to at least tell Siobhan and Sebastian. They’ll listen to me.”

  Liam paused at that, then closed his eyes as if pained, shaking his head. “Fine. You tell them wh
ile I get your mother, but if they don’t listen, you get yourself to the Wild Rose. You don’t keep arguing with them.”

  “I won’t be long.” She stepped closer to him and slid an arm around his neck to pull him against her before catching him in a brief, fiery kiss. There were a few shocked exclamations from people who saw them, but she ignored them. She drew back from his lips, then ducked to kiss Donny’s little head before she released Liam and took off racing for Siobhan’s home.

  It was late on a Saturday morning and there had been a successful raid the night before. The majority of the city was either sleeping off hangovers from celebration or else just starting their day. Revelry and industriousness would take place later in the day. As a result, she only passed a few people in the street. A number of them watched her curiously, but her shouts that they had to flee for their safety received no more response than strange looks.

  By the time she reached Siobhan’s house, she could barely breathe or speak for the stitch in her side. She slammed her hands weakly against the door before sagging against it, gasping. Seconds ticked past without response. Then, she heard the sounds of movement inside. When the door was pulled inward, she nearly collapsed through the doorway, but managed to catch herself in time. She raised her head to look up at Siobhan’s husband, Sebastian, who was staring at her in alarm.

  He reached out to grasp her by the arms and help her straighten up. “My God. What happened to you?”

  “I was attacked, but it doesn’t matter. The man’s dead.” She shook her head, her curls swirling around her face in knots from her run. “There’s an earthquake coming. You and Siobhan need to get out of the city as quickly as possible.”

  “An earthquake? What makes you think—”

  “I don’t have time to explain. Please, you just have to go. Is your ship ready to sail?”

  “No, we weren’t leaving again for several more days. There was just the raid last—”