The Sea Devil

by Eliza Knight

  Giving the pre-planned signal to the other ships, Thor went below to make sure the lads were loading up the cannons. Thor ran his hand over the smooth and polished cool iron. They were much the same as his own aboard The Sea Devil, though these were shinier, never fired. The lads stood proudly beside their weapons, thrilled with the idea of lighting the fuse.

  “Are they loaded?” Thor asked.

  “Aye, Cap’n. Loaded with the iron cannonballs ye had commissioned.”

  Special cannonballs. Before he’d boarded the Leucosia, he’d had his men switch out the ammunition on The Sea Devil, to this ship. They were each etched with the words, Feel the wrath of Thor. He’d chuckled at the time, having commissioned them after losing a bet to Con. He’d yet to have the pleasure of using them, because when most pirates saw the Devils of the Deep sails, they surrendered almost immediately.

  But now, the very idea of having these custom iron balls of wrath hurtling through the air and puncturing the hull of Santiago’s ships made Thor smile with satisfaction.

  “Good. Be prepared to fire on my signal.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.”

  Thor nodded to the lads and promised them that the battle they were about to embark on would line their pockets with gold. And he meant to see that it did, no matter the outcome. He slid down the ladders into the bowels of the ship, wishing the rowers well and promising extra meat with their supper and a week’s worth of boozing and wenching when their mission was complete. That sent up a deafening cheer.

  Once more on deck, Thor signaled to Edgard to swing the helm, turning the rudders about. They were going to meet Santiago head on. Finally, after all these times. After so many moments when Thor thought he was close, but Santiago always seemed to disappear into thin air.

  A hum of excitement whirled in his blood, and he couldn’t help but grin as he marched toward the bow of the ship and watched her make the one hundred eighty degree turn until she faced Santiago’s armada. As he’d guessed, they outnumbered the ships by one. Ironic, given their one extra ship was Santiago’s.

  With a crude gesture in his enemy’s direction, Thor made his way back to the helm.

  “Look alive, lads! Today is the day we face down our enemies and watch their blood stain the water. The Devils of the Deep will reign supreme!”

  “Ho-aye!” the men shouted before starting up an old pirate song about battles and blood and victory.

  Thor couldn’t help the satisfied grin on his face. He flexed his fingers and cracked his neck. The past two decades were finally coming to a head. All that he’d worked for. All he’d ever wanted. Santiago’s head in his hands. To feel the warmth of the bastard’s blood slipping through his fingers. An image of Alesia flashed before his mind, and with it instant guilt.

  But why should he feel guilty? This was everything he’d worked for. The reason he’d agreed to join the brethren instead of running away. He could have very well become a wharf rat like her. He could have refused his post as captain. At any point over the last twenty years, he could have left the pirates and gone rogue, possibly even infiltrated the Spanish, though it would have been to disguise himself given his size.

  He gazed around at the men on the ship, then over toward the Savage of the Sea where Shaw, his prince of pirates, saluted him as he scaled the mast toward the crow’s nest.

  There was no going back. And if he’d ever had any doubts, the feeling of gratitude and pride he got from saluting Shaw back was telling enough. This was where he belonged. These men were his family, and it was time to eradicate the threat. Alesia would understand. She had to. She’d said as much herself. She didn’t even know if Santiago was her father, and if he was… Och, if he was, then she had every right to thrust a blade through his chest for the torments she’d been made to suffer all of her life.

  Thor muttered an oath. The sea that stretched out from the Leucosia to their enemies was closing swiftly. Thor battled between the urges to collect Alesia so she could fight beside him, or to order her locked in the cabin for her own safety. But if there was one thing he’d learned about the lass, it was that if he locked her in, she’d only escape. She was a fighter, and if she wanted in on this battle, there would be no stopping her.

  The revelation made him smile with pride. They were meant to be together, no two were a more perfect pair.

  If he couldn’t stop her, he should invite her to join him.

  With that resolution in mind, he turned from the helm, prepared to march to the cabin and ask her if she would like to join him, to arm her with weapons. To kiss her before they raised their swords.

  But upon turning around, what he saw stopped him cold. Standing before him was Alesia dressed in breeches, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up to the elbows revealing leather-studded bracers on her forearms. She had on an armored vest studded with iron. In one hand, she had a crossbow, and there was a targe strapped to the forearm if her opposite arm. A targe was a tiny shield on him, but looked normal on her. Draped over her shoulder was a quiver full of arrows for the crossbow, and crisscrossing her back were two swords. A leather belt was slung over her hips with a pistol on each side and two tiny daggers.

  Whatever he’d been imagining her doing in the cabin at that moment had not been this. Och, but she never ceased to surprise him. What else would she have been doing in there besides arming herself? Certainly she wouldn’t have been curled up in the corner or brushing out her hair. Nay, not his lass.

  Alesia was a warrior woman bent on a good fight. Bent on destruction.

  She was every man’s nightmare.

  Every man but him.

  In fact, looking at her like this had Thor’s heart melting the rest of the way, and a rush of desire flooding him.

  Peering down, he fully expected to see her feet bare, but surprisingly, she’d strapped on her boots.

  “Ye’re beautiful,” he said, without thinking. “And ye’ve got on boots.”

  “Fighting barefoot seemed too dangerous. ’Tis not too much?” She raised a brow, a hint of a smile on her luscious lips.

  “Not by half.” Thor strode across the deck, closing the distance between them. He reached for her, snaking an arm around her waist, avoiding the blades crossing at her back, and hauled her up against him. “Ye’re a dream come true.”

  Not giving her a chance to reply, he bent his lips to hers and kissed her with all the passion he felt. Consuming, mind-altering, heart stopping. If he were to believe in such things as fate or soul mates, he would believe she was fated for him. He knew without a doubt she was meant for him. They had so much in common, he felt she knew him better than anyone else in the world. That if he were to part from her at this very moment, life would cease to matter.

  “I love ye,” he murmured against her lips. “I want ye to be mine.”

  She clutched the front of his shirt, dewy eyes gazing up at his, flames smoldering behind their green depths. “Yours?”

  “No other man’s. And I would belong to ye.”

  Her face flushed, and she tipped her head, eyes closing. “Ye’re an adventurer, Thor. I love ye too much to hold ye back.”

  “Ye dinna understand.” He touched two fingers to her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “I want nothing else. I want to face the open seas with ye at my side. My life will be incomplete without ye. I mean it, Alesia. I want ye to be my wife.”

  Her mouth opened and closed, then opened again, but the only thing that came out was a long whoosh of air.

  A pain gripped his chest, as though someone had reached inside and squeeze hard. Would she deny him after he’d bared his soul to her? Thor blew out a breath. “Ye dinna have to tell me now. We can fight this battle and then talk more about it, but we will talk.”

  She pressed her hands to his heart. “I would be honored to be your wife. But…”

  Thor could guess the things she was about say. There was so much that came with being a wife—mainly all the things he couldn’t see her being. She was never going to obey him, labor fo
r him. She was a free spirit, had lived on her own for so long that she would never want to be ruled by anyone. And that was what he loved about her—her independent, free spirit. “I’ll not take away your freedoms, lass. I just want ye by my side. Right beside me. Not behind me.”

  “Like Jane and Gregg.” Her eyes were locked on his, brimming with hope but also apprehension. Her throat bobbed.

  There was no hesitation in his answer. “Aye. Like Jane and Gregg.”

  A soft smile touched her lips, and she clutched his shirt tighter. “I want that, too.”

  “Then ’tis settled. When we beat him”—he jerked his head toward the oncoming ships—“and we will…we shall marry.”

  “What about before, when ye said we could not both live…that…” Her lip started to tremble, and she clenched her mouth closed for a moment. “That one or both of us would surely die today.”

  “I was a fool, Alesia, leannan troda.” He cupped her face with his hands, feeling the warmth of her soft skin seep into his palms. “I could never let anything happen to ye, and I want to spend the rest of our lives wreaking havoc on the seas. How could I let that, let us, slip away?”

  “Oh, ye do know how to speak to a woman’s heart.” Alesia leaned up on tiptoe, and he met her halfway, his mouth covering hers in a possessive, passion-filled kiss.

  “Cap’n,” Edgard called from the helm, interrupting their private, yet public, moment. “Your orders.”

  Reluctantly, Thor pulled his mouth from Alesia’s, stared into her brilliant eyes and whispered, “I love ye.”

  “I love ye, too.”

  With one last quick kiss, he turned to his men.

  “All hands, ahoy!” Thor took Alesia by the hand and went to the center of the deck to address his men. “Ready your sea legs, lads. The moment we’ve been waiting for is upon us. Behold, the Spanish bastards! There’ll be no parley this day. We’ll give no quarter. Today, we’re going to blow the man down and take him for all he’s worth.”

  A shout of agreement, a pirate’s battle cry, went up among the crew. Alesia, too, joined in their cheers.

  “Let them try to take what is ours. We shall show them what it means to fight the brethren. We are the Devils of the Deep, and together with Poseidon’s Legion, we rule the seas.”

  “Aye-aye!”

  “Get ye to your stations. Prepare for battle!” The men let out another booming cheer and then rushed to their duties. Power and battle lust coursed through Thor’s veins. God, he’d been waiting so long for this moment. And to share it with the one he loved? Nothing could have made it better. “Are ye ready, lass?”

  “Aye.”

  “Need a nip of uisge beatha?” He raised a brow.

  “Nay. I never imbibe before a fight. But after, och, I will definitely need it then.” She grinned, not a hint of fear in her eyes.

  Blood and bones, he loved her confidence.

  They stood at the helm, waiting as the ship barreled toward an uncertain fate, and all that mattered was that they were in this together.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Though she’d managed to keep her trembling at bay, Alesia’s heart could not cease its staccato beat. This was really happening. When she’d walked up on deck, seen the organized chaos of the men preparing for war, she’d been certain Thor would send her back to their cabin. That he would berate her for taking nearly everything she could find on that secret weapon wall. That he’d tell her war was no place for a woman. That he would deny her very existence and the thing that had kept her alive all these years—her ability to hold her own.

  But the look he’d given her had been anything but anger. Anything but censure. His countenance had been…moving. It had made her chest thump with excitement. No one had ever looked at her like that. A mixture of astonishment, pride, love, desire. It was an expression she wanted him to give her over and over again for the rest of her life. Even if that happened to only be this day.

  His big, warm hand engulfed hers, making her feel safe and secure. From where she stood with him at the bow, the Spanish flags had come into view, and she could see the tiny dots of men moving about the ship. There was one at the bow—standing atop it and hanging on to the rigging.

  Edgard was shouting again, preparing the Devils of the Deep for their meeting head on.

  “Who will turn first?” she murmured.

  “Not I. We never turn first,” Thor murmured to her and then shouted to his crew, “Stand your ground! Stay the course!”

  “Ye would rather hit them?” The men on the Spanish ships looked just as determined. The one hanging on the front didn’t waver in the slightest.

  “We willna.” Thor was so confident, so sure. She tried to leech some of it from him, but she still found her belly doing too many flips for comfort.

  “Why?” she asked, squeezing his hand tighter.

  “Because”—he smiled down at her, his eyes steady, his brow smooth—“Santiago’s already lost one ship to us, this verra one in fact. He won’t want to lose another. Also”—he wiggled his brows with enthusiasm—“he knows I will not turn.”

  As Thor predicted, the man hanging off the front shouted something that didn’t carry on the wind, and their ship abruptly slowed and turned. However, it did not to go around them. In fact, it turned so its starboard side faced them—along with their cannons, shining from the hull like black, vacant eyes. Even with the seventeen canons that she counted facing them, Thor did not seem concerned, so she tried not to be either—but it was harder to accomplish than she hoped.

  Alesia studied the men onboard the ship, not recognizing any of them. They looked like pirates, to be sure, just like Thor’s crew, only with olive-toned skin, dark, glossy hair and pointed beards. They all wore breeches and shirts of gold and crimson. They all appeared to be miniature versions of their captain, who was easy to see with his flamboyant hat and an ornately embroidered brocade vest in the same colors of gold and blood. The two ships with him also turned to their sides, pointing their guns at the brethren.

  “Ho there!” Shaw’s voice was heard over the wind as he called out to the Spaniards. “This is not the meeting point.”

  A bitter laugh sounded, coming from the direction of the galleys in front of them.

  “And you are not Thor.” Santiago turned his gaze from Shaw to the Leucosia. “That is my ship. No matter how many times a snake sheds his skin, he is still una serpiente.”

  A rumbled growl came from Thor’s throat, and he stood taller, letting go of her hand to leap upon the rail like Santiago. “Och, no one tried to disguise the fact, but the snake reference… Are ye referring to yourself?”

  Alesia listened quietly to the exchanges, fear gnawing at the calm reserve she hoped to convey.

  “Did you bring what I asked for, bastardo?” Santiago shouted.

  “Aye.” Thor held out his hand to Alesia, urging her to take hold. For half a breath, she contemplated and then decided to continue taking the leaps she’d been hurtling ever since Thor first crossed her path. She grabbed hold of his hand and leapt up onto the rail, steadying herself beside him. “Ye’ll have to come and get her yourself—with the bounty ye owe me.”

  “Her?” The man’s voice was amused, but his brow furrowed, and behind his dark, long beard, his mouth turned down in what could only be discerned as disappointment.

  Alesia tried not to be offended that he seemed somewhat put off that she was not a lad. For who was he to her? He was a stranger. A nobody. And even if he was her sire, he was no man she could ever respect for having left her mother and her to suffer, for having killed Thor’s mother.

  “Aye.” This time it was Alesia that spoke. Unafraid now as she faced the man who could be her father.

  Thor squeezed her hand and then nodded to his men. The rumble beneath her feet sounded as the men pushed the cannons forward to point at Santiago’s ship.

  “Perhaps the deal is terminado,” Santiago called. “I was looking for a son.”

  “Ye’re hono
r bound to see this deal through,” Thor shouted, this time she did feel him trembling beside her, but with rage and indignation, never fear.

  Aye, he was a pirate. Aye he wanted revenge, but he would not board Santiago’s ship without reason. Was he hoping Santiago would give him that reason now?

  “Honor bound?” she whispered, seeking clarification.

  “Our brethren’s code.” Thor cursed. “Would that I could break it, but I canna.”

  He let go of her hand to rest his on his pistol, his jaw muscle ticking furiously.

  “How will la niña prove she’s mine?” Santiago’s ship floated closer, and for the first time, Alesia could see just why the men of the Devils of the Deep did not question her parentage.

  The man had the same glossy black hair as her, the same vibrant eyes. He seemed to take notice of it at the same time, a flash of pride coming over his face.

  Bloody hell… She knew at that moment she could not kill him, whether he’d left her to starve or not. He might be a bastard, but she wasn’t a murderer.

  “Tell me the name of your madre.” He swept his fingers down the length of his beard.

  Alesia sucked in a breath and straightened her shoulders. “Scarlet Baird.”

  The wind whipped, causing her carefully pulled back hair to lash against her face, as though her mother were coming back from the dead to haunt her. Then the air seemed to suddenly still. Even the water no longer rippled, looking blank and black on the surface like a dark mirror of misery. The ships were reflected in the surface, and a few lines her mother sang to her on her deathbed finally made sense. Our anchor’s weighed, our sails are set. The friends we leave we'll never forget. Unless her name is poor Scarlet.

  Suddenly, all she felt for her mother was pity. All the animosity and resentment melted away when she realized her mother had been heartbroken. That she’d been waiting for the man to return to her, and he never did. Was this perhaps the reason that everyday at four o’clock, no matter the weather, her mother had dragged her to the Port of Leith to watch the ships? Was this why her mother searched out the faces of the sailors, especially the ones with hats as extravagant as Santiago’s? Because Alesia had thought she was looking for a score, believed the hat meant coin, but it wasn’t that at all. Her mother had been searching for the man she loved. The only man she’d allowed to get her with child. Santiago Fernandez.