A Pirate's Dream

by Marie Hall

  She glanced up. “You really think so? Foolish, yes. I could see where anyone would think that, especially considering how badly I bungled the whole thing.”

  Jian cooed, rubbing his warm little body against her scalp, as if with tenderness, before settling back down. Immediately, she released a breath she’d not realized she’d been holding.

  “They’re quite good at that, no?” Sirenade chuckled. “My little sea dragons.”

  Nimue returned the smile.

  “And yes, little pirate, I do find you unbelievably brave. There aren’t many crusty pirates that would have tried what you did. And I can promise you that if they had, they certainly wouldn’t have not used the creature. It is in a pirate’s nature to steal. I understand that.”

  That was so odd coming from her. How could a king and queen born of the same blood be so opposite? Sircco had looked as if he’d wanted to skin her just for breathing, and here Sirenade was, offering mercy.

  “Why? How can you be okay with our nature? Few people like us. Hell, pirates rarely even like each other.”

  Chuckling, the Queen nodded. “An apt description. But I made peace with your kind many years ago. We have developed a symbiotic relationship through the years. The pirates pillage and plunder, and when the goddess wills it, jewels and prizes will sink to the bottom of the sea floor, and we can share in the spoils. And you know, that without our mercy, you cannot sail our waters. So friends, we are. But I will share a secret with you—there is one I hold fondest over all.”

  “Hook?” Nimue’s heart swelled with pride. She loved her father. Even if he had been a gate guard for too many years to count, she adored him.

  “Aye. The Prince of Thieves, I call him. And you remind me a good deal of him.”

  Nimue worried her bottom lip, wanting to ask a question but not sure how to broach the subject of the strange mermaid without giving the queen any strange ideas.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “What?” She shook her head. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “No, but I can practically feel the vibration of your thoughts. Ask me anything. I will answer you as I can.”

  They rode past a garden of sea kelp that stretched as far as the eye could see. Dangling from the kelp were strange looking navy-blue flowers that swayed back and forth, releasing jets of gold powder and the chime of bells with each flickering movement.

  Mother had told her once of those gardens. She’d sat inside one and spoken with Nimue’s father until the sun rose, and that was the night they’d both known they were in love.

  “Who was that mermaid? Stygia, I think the king called her?”

  Sirenade’s bronze eyes sparkled. “Jealous, little pirate?”

  Damn, she’d known the Queen would go there. “No, I most certainly am not.” She notched her chin an inch, even though she had felt a slight twinge of discomfort when the pretty beast had shown up.

  But that’d probably been a bad case of gas and nothing more.

  “Fair enough.” Sirenade nodded. “Yes, you are correct. She is Stygia, and for the past decade, she’s been trying to worm her way into my brother’s bed.”

  Blushing furiously, not because she didn’t know what sex was—she absolutely knew what it was; she’d seen horses rutting before—but because she hadn’t expected such a frank answer.

  “Oh, well.” She pretended to cough then thumped her chest delicately.

  The Queen bubbled with laughter. “We do not shy away from sensual pleasure down here, little pirate. There is no sense in that.”

  “Neither do we. I live on a ship full of pirates. I hear plenty.”

  “Yes.” A mysterious smile laced her lips. “I’m sure that you do. Stygia wishes to reign as king consort and has done much to ensure it happens. We tolerate her, because as irritating as she can be, she is loyal and does have the ear of the people.”

  “Hm.” Nimue plucked at a hole that had appeared in her skirt since that morning. “Well, whatever. I really don’t care if she spreads her legs... er...” She wrinkled her nose. “Tail, gah. I’m sorry.”

  “Do not apologize. This chat is just between us. But a word of caution—be wary of Stygia. She’s got her claws deep in my brother.”

  So he liked her, too?

  Okay then. She was just going to ignore that sudden twinge in her stomach again and the way it had suddenly rolled. Everyone knew that the merfolk did not mate with humans for love. Except of course for Talia, who’d at one time been the soul of her mother who’d fallen in love with Hook... and the story was exceedingly complicated.

  Love?

  Bloody hell, where had that thought come from? Angry now, Nimue clamped down on those traitorous thoughts and said, “I don’t care. He can have her. The only reason why I asked was because she looks strangely familiar to me, though I’m sure I’ve never seen her before.”

  “Ah, yes. Well she would wouldn’t she? No doubt you’ve been told of Hook’s love for Talia?”

  She nodded.

  “Stygia looks exactly like her.”

  “How?” She blinked, staggered by the implications. In essence, Talia was Nimue’s mother, which could mean that she and Stygia were... related?

  Now she really did want to vomit.

  “Is she my... my...” She couldn’t even get the word out.

  Taking a deep breath, Sirenade sighed. “No. Absolutely not. You are not at all related. But we do have witches down here who, for a price, can do miraculous things.”

  Feeling ten times lighter, and not quite so dizzy, she gave the queen a lopsided smile. “Good. That’s good. I mean...” She shook her head; she really needed to watch what was coming out of her mouth.

  Sirenade gave her a sympathetic look. “No worries. I think I may have reacted the same were I in your shoes.”

  Giggling, feeling as though they were bonded by more than just being captor and captee, Nimue thanked her. “I really do love this place.”

  “Well, anywhere I’ve shown you today, you can freely go. Though it might be safest to stay close to the palace, if only because you’ll be a curiosity to many. Daughter of Hook, in our lands. The gossip will be salacious.” She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Nimue, before we turn for home, I have one final surprise for you. If you think you’re up to it, that is.”

  Curious, she narrowed her eyes. “A surprise? For me?”

  She’d just gotten here. What kind of surprise could the queen possibly have for her?

  “Your grandmother. Would you like to meet her?”

  Chapter 4

  Smiling, Danika flicked her wrist, switching out the images inside the sea drop. The glassy surface reformed, showing her not Seren, but the Jolly Roger—more specifically, the faces of Hook and Trishelle, who were now back on board and tucked away in their cabin.

  Clearing her throat, she opened a connection between them. “Boo.”

  Trisha squealed, twirling around in a bright flurry of crimson silk and clutching onto her chest.

  Danika couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Fairy, I’ll stab you if you scare me like that again.” Trisha grinned back into the bowl of water that served as a two-way communication between them.

  Hook came up to stand over his wife’s shoulder. “Fae,” he said in his thick, shivery voice.

  Gods, she loved her boys.

  “Well,” Trisha tossed her hands up in exasperation, “how’s it going?”

  Danika waved her hand. “You know, about as well as it did when I brought you to that heathen.”

  Hook’s laughter vibrated her droplet. “That well, eh? It’ll be no time before their mussing the sheets then, I think.”

  “Hush!” Trisha smacked his chest. “That’s our daughter. Have some respect.”

  “My love, I have the utmost respect for you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

  Danika smiled when Trisha leaned slightly into him with a love-struck grin on her face. Even after all these years, true love held them e
nraptured with one another.

  “But let us not be fooled, my darling, into believing that it won’t happen. That is, after all, why we arranged their meet.”

  Trisha sighed, shoulders drooping just slightly. “Yes, but did we do right, James? Was she ready?”

  “After all these years,” Danika said, “of keeping them apart, it was more than time, Trishelle. And at least this way, we could keep that bastard Pan from hearing of it. It happened very quickly, very smoothly. Sircco did exactly as I knew he would. As did she.”

  “Is she harmed?” Trishelle asked with a hint of worry.

  Her daughter might be a woman, but Trishelle was still a mother.

  “My love,” Hook answered, “trust that the fairy knows what she is about. So long as there is no interference from that boy,” he spat, “by week’s end we should—”

  “About that.” Dani held up a finger. “Six months.”

  “What!” Hook thundered, finally looking as fierce and furious as all the stories made him out to be. “I’ll kill him. I’ll murder him. I’ll—”

  This time, it was Trisha calming his nerves. “He is the king of the sea, love. There is no murdering allowed.” Twirling on Danika, she planted her hands on her hips. “But how did this happen, Dani? You said a few days, a week, tops.”

  “Well, okay, so it didn’t quite go according to plan. But these things rarely do. Love is a strange business. Anywho, the hag and he brokered terms, and not even I can undo what’s been wrought. Trust that she is in good hands, and I can honestly tell you, Nimue is very happy and halfway to being in love. Even if she doesn’t quite know it yet.”

  “I’m sure.” Hook snarled, now no longer quite so congenial. “Ruddy fish.”

  Covering her laughter behind her hand, Danika cleared her throat. “That ruddy fish, as you call him, should be making a call to you very soon. Now, I think it goes without saying that you shouldn’t let him know this was the plan all along. Male pride and all that.”

  Trisha was the only one who laughed at that. “Of course. So what should we do?”

  “Give him hell. Just for fun.” And with a wink, Danika severed communications.

  Jericho rubbed her shoulders, his fingers gently grazing against the sensitive tips of her dragonfly wings and filling her with a very different type of excitement.

  “Jericho, what are you about, my love?”

  She could hear his grin as he leaned forward. “Imagine my surprise when I walk out back to the woodshed and find ten barrels full of stardust. Now you tell me, my little dragon, what that could be.”

  Giggling because he knew darn well what that was for, she shot to her feet. “First one there is a rotten egg.”

  Yanking his shirt off over his head, one hand already on his belt buckle, he asked, “Do you have a minute to spare?”

  “A minute!” Her wings buzzed. “I should hope it would take at least five.” Then with a wink and shake of her bum, she flitted toward the shed, the tinkling bell of her laughter a trail for him to follow.

  *

  Two weeks had passed since her arrival here, and though Nimue missed her parents, she was—as Sirenade had first guessed she would be—very happy.

  Today, she was helping her grandmother, or “great-mother,” as she preferred to be called, harvest sea snails from her garden of kelp.

  Nimue thought the snails were absolutely too beautiful to eat. Small, with bright blue shells that glowed and squishy little bodies, there was no way Nimue would boil those. Even if great-mother swore they’d taste amazing.

  “You are troubled,” Maiven said softly, glancing up with wise blue eyes. Long red hair trailed like a living flame behind her back.

  At first, Nimue had worried that Maiven wouldn’t be able to accept her as a granddaughter, when technically her mother was merely the reincarnated soul of Talia who in no other way resembled the long-dead mermaid. But Maiven had wrapped her arms around Nimue’s neck and hugged her tightly, and that had been that.

  From the moment she’d laid eyes on the mermaid, it was like something inside Nimue’s soul had clicked into place. The ache was growing smaller.

  “No.” She shook her head, hurriedly tying an apron around her waist so that she could begin harvesting. But her fingers kept fumbling with the tie, and her grandmother was giving her that knowing look that her mother would sometimes give her. Finally, she tossed up her hands and sighed. “Yes, okay. Yes. Something is bothering me.”

  Reaching up, Maiven plucked a jeweled snail from its perch and tucked it into a pocket in her apron. “And that might be?” she asked with great patience.

  “Grr.” She shook her head, yanking a slug so hard that she caused several less-mature ones to tumble off their perches to the ground.

  “Careful, great-daughter, they’re not yet matured, and since I harvest the best snails in all of Seren, it would be a great loss to waste them.” Bending over, she scooped the baby snails into her palm then repositioned them back in their nests.

  “Sorry,” Nimue muttered, feeling foolishly out of sorts. “It’s stupid. Nothing I should be this upset about.”

  “Hm.” Maiven’s orange-red tail flicked at a passing crow fish that tried to snatch one of the snails. It cawed irritably once before swimming off in rush. “I often find that sometimes it’s the smallest things that bother us most.”

  Rolling her eyes, but being gentler when she grabbed for the next snail, she thought about what’d happened that morning.

  Since Nimue had arrived in Seren, the queen had been nothing but cordial and pleasant. Honestly, she was becoming a friend, and Nimue cherished that. But as wonderful as the queen was, her brother irritated the ever-living crap—as her mother often told her father—out of her.

  “He ignores me. Completely.” She shoved another snail into her smock. “I haven’t seen the arrogant jerk for a week, and today, he’s coming out of his study, and that horrible fish—” She flicked a glance at her very mermaid grandmother and stuttered, “No offense to you.”

  She smiled. “None taken, dear.” Then she turned and began harvesting the next stalk for snails. “I take it that you’re speaking of Stygia?”

  “One and the same,” she growled, snarling at the shell in her hand. “She comes out of the study right behind him, with her hand on his arm possessively, as if I really cared—” She snapped off another snail.

  “Mind the food, great-daughter.”

  Releasing her grip on the poor stalk, she backed up; just thinking about it was filling her with a quiet rage. She’d had to sit through breakfast with Stygia making moony eyes at Sircco and him raging at Nimue, as if he were offended that she would dare to eat at the same table as they did.

  As if she’d had a choice. There was only one great table, and besides, Sirenade had invited her there as her personal guest and...

  She stomped her foot. “He’s just so mean to me, and I don’t know why.”

  Maiven lifted a finely arched brow. “And that bothers you?”

  “Yes! No.” She shook her head then sighed. “I don’t know. But he’s the first merman I’ve ever seen, and I was so curious, but he’s just such an ass.”

  Great-mother gave her a women-do-not-swear kind of look, which instantly had Nimue clamping her lips shut. If her grandmother only knew just how varied her vocabulary was on the subject, courtesy of living her life on a ship with first-class ruffians...

  “He’s the king, Nimue. They’re allowed to be—” She sniffed. “Asses.”

  Choking on her laughter, because her grandmother looked as though she’d just swallowed a lemon, she didn’t know what to say other than, “Thank you.”

  Nodding regally, Maiven plucked at another snail. “Maybe what you need to do is analyze why it bothers you that he’s ignoring you. Aren’t you having fun here?”

  She shrugged, her anger not quite so hot anymore. “I am. I mean, it’s not lost on me that I’m still a prisoner. Couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.”

 
Nimue had caught wind, through servant chatter, that there was a hidden stairwell that led from Seren straight to the legger’s shore, but the queen’s fiercest warriors heavily guarded it.

  Not that she really wanted to leave.

  But she still couldn’t stop feeling like she was a prisoner. And it wasn’t so much because she couldn’t get out and do things, she could. She got to spend time with her great-mother, whom she was coming to feel great affection for. And even though underwater lakes should have seemed impossible, there were, in fact, underwater lakes. Sirenade had told Nimue that once she had a few moments of free time, she’d take Nimue there to learn how to swim.

  Jian was her constant companion, keeping constantly to her side so that even if she was alone in her room, she was never truly alone.

  But she couldn’t leave.

  She couldn’t talk to her parents.

  And as crazy as it was, she missed them. She wanted to reassure them that she was safe and to apologize to them for what she’d done. Sirenade had told her that Sircco had spoken with them, but she wouldn’t say much more other than that the rafters had shaken when Hook spoke.

  “Daughter of Talia’s soul”—Maiven laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed until Nimue glanced up—“there are times in life when we are forced to endure trials.”

  Wanting to kick herself for being so foolish, Nimue glanced down at her feet. This was hardly a trial compared to what her great-mother had been forced to endure—the death of her only daughter. Being a prisoner for five and a half more months in a place where she was treated more like a princess than a captive was hardly worthy of tears.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Now, hush.”

  Maiven pulled her in for a swift hug. She smelled like her mother’s gardens back at the chalet, like honeysuckle and desert sage. It was a pleasant smell, and it squeezed at Nimue’s heart.

  “None of that, dear. I’m not comparing us, and I don’t want you to, either. This is a great burden for you. Especially to be forced to endure the company of a merman you find both reprehensible and divine.”