by Suzie Grant
more enjoyable. Now seniorita do be so kind as to show us where the lieutenant is keeping Captain
Logan.”
~*~
Rigo, Bruno, and the girl exited the room. “Which way?” Rigo asked. When she didn’t answer, he
peered back at her. “Bruno has only to snap your sweet neck, princess, so I would point which direction.”
Those green eyes glared at him but she pointed to the left. After a myriad of turns they came to a
door. “In here?”
She nodded.
The stairwell led to the cellar, and he pounded down the stairs. A man leapt out of nowhere with a
dagger in hand, and Rigo seized his arm, tumbling back into the wall. Sliding down to the floor, they both
thudded down the last three steps.
Rigo strained under the other man’s strength. His opponent had gravity on his side. They struggled
with the dagger and with sheer determination, Rigo forced the weapon above his head where it embedded
into the wooden step next to his ear.
Relief whooshed from his lungs. That had definitely been too close.
Bruno yanked on his attacker’s collar and lifted him off Rigo. With a solid punch to his chin, Bruno
knocked the smaller man out.
Sometimes, having a mute around was a good thing. Especially when that man could single-
handedly take out five men all on his own.
Bruno grasped the girls arm and dragged her down the remaining steps.
“Why are you doing this?”
Surprised she hadn’t screamed when she had the opportunity. “He’s our friend. We don’t leave our
friends to die.”
Rigo took hold of her as Bruno laid the man in the corner of the room and checked to make sure he
still breathed. Those meaty fists could pack a hell of a wallop.
“He’s been down here for years, or so I’ve been told. He’s a pirate. A common criminal. A thug.”
Rigo gave a lopsided grin. “Is there any other way to be?”
She clamped her mouth shut. “I’ve never understood why my cousin keeps him here instead of in the
prison at the fort, but it’s not my place to say anything. After my mother died, I was forced to come here
until I marry. My father is too busy for me.”
Logan was chained to the far wall, shackles binding his legs and hands. He’d been beaten so badly
he barely stood on his own. His one good eye popped open and he grinned.
“Took you long enough, you black bastard.”
Bruno hugged Logan in a crushing embrace and the older man chuckled. “Aye, I missed you too.
How is my daughter?”
Apparently the two needed no interpreter and could understand each other just fine.
Bruno helped his captain stand while Rigo scrambled to find the set of keys on the guard. His hand
shook as he fumbled inside the large pockets. But there were none. He frowned.
“I would try over there,” the girl suggested.
He searched the table and chairs and found them hanging on the wall by the stairs. “Thank you, cara
mia.”
“You’re welcome and you can call me Eliza, not sweet heart.”
“An educated woman.” Rigo nodded in approval. “Do you speak other languages as well as
Italian?”
“Si, Yo sé cuatro idiomas diferentes, incluyendo español.”
Rigo whistled. “Four huh? Impressive. Now do me a favor and show us the way the out then.”
Rigo moved across the room to unfasten the locks. Freedom lurked just beyond the corner. A door
above sounded and they stilled. Then the pounding on the stairs as several red-coated soldiers filtered
down with guns raised and surrounded them.
So much for being free...
Nineteen
It had taken six of them to subdue them and only one guard left to watch the prisoners. Of course, it
might be the iron chains around their wrists that gave the guards their overconfidence. It would be rather
difficult to break them but once they did...escape would be easy.
Bruno strained against the iron once again until he gasped, out of breath. “Did you think they might
break this time as opposed to the last six times you’ve tried?” Rigo just couldn’t help the sarcasm.
Sometimes it just came out of his mouth before it even entered his brain.
Bruno’s brow furrowed and he appeared as if he wished Rigo’s neck were in his hands instead.
The dank, damp smell of the cellar lingered in the air, and Bruno’s boots scraped against gritty
floor as he struggled with his bindings once again. Rigo leaned back against the wall and idly cleaned
under his fingernails. Let the man wear himself out on an impossible task. Rigo would wait for the ideal
opportunity. And there would be one. He always managed to escape at times like this. He just had to be
patient.
The soldiers had placed them on the other side of the long, narrow room but he could still see
Logan around the large barrels of rum if he leaned to the side enough. Wine racks lined the walls as high
as the ceiling and were filled with bottles.
Rigo retrieved one and read the label. “At least we won’t go thirsty.”
Bruno glanced down at him and glared. Rigo shrugged. “What? What happened to your sense of
humor anyway?”
Bruno growled. The violent motions of his hands confused him until Bruno held his hands up above
his head as if in a halo. “Ahh you’re worried about Angel?”
Bruno nodded and slapped a fist into one palm.
“Don’t worry, Blac will take care of her. He won’t let anything happen to the chit, especially since
he’s half in love with her.”
“What’s this about my daughter and Blac?” The booming voice came from across the room.
Rigo’s eyes widened as he searched for an explanation. Was it too late to retract the ill-timed
statement? Rigo cringed at his mistake. “Uh...well...Logan you see—”
“Spit it out, Santiago.” Why did he sound so much like Blac at this moment?
And then the words tumbled from his mouth, in half Spanish and half English. Unfortunately, Logan
being the world traveler that he was, understood every word. Interestingly enough, he didn’t yell or roar
down the rafters as Rigo had imagined he would. Instead, he grew quiet. Frighteningly so.
A loud thunk sounded, followed by another as the guard tumbled down the steps and then a wisp of
canary yellow damask fabric drew Rigo’s eye as Eliza knelt to check the soldier’s pulse.
“Would it really have been such a bad thing if the man had broken his neck?” Rigo drawled.
Her head swiveled to face him. “Yes! I will not have a man’s death on my conscience just because I
am crazy enough to save a stupid pirate’s life.”
He grinned. “Because you like me.”
“I loathe you. But I feel sorry for the big man over there since his only rescue got captured
themselves. It is up to someone a little more competent to save him.”
Rigo frowned at the insult. “Oh? Who do you suggest then?”
She gave an irritated growl and crossed the room to release Logan first. The large man dominated
her, as she barely reached his chest. He thanked her and nodded, rubbing his bruised wrists. The yellow
confection moved toward Bruno next.
Of course, she was going to make him wait — punishing him. He deserved it, but that didn’t mean
he liked it.
When she finally stood before him, she hesitated and frowned. He grinned. “Having second
thoughts?”
“I should just
leave you here.”
“But you won’t.”
She glared at him. “No, I won’t.” She released the shackles and they clanged to the ground. “But
that doesn’t mean I don’t hope you trip and fall flat on your face.”
He laughed. She was delightful. Sinfully so. She leaned forward to release the chains around his
wrist and a whiff of lavender assaulted him. Rigo breathed it in, savoring the scent of a woman. It’d been
a mighty long time since he’d had one. Perhaps fate had dropped little miss prudent in his lap for a reason.
“Come, we must go out the tunnel,” she whispered.
“What tunnel?” Logan asked. “I’ve been here three years. I’ve yet to see a tunnel.”
She chuckled. “And here it’s been right under your nose. It was placed here in case there was an
attack from one of the local tribes. The Indians can be very unpredictable.” She crossed to the back of the
cellar and pushed against a large bookshelf.
At her gasp, Rigo rolled his eyes and urged her aside. “Never let it be said that I am unkind.”
Eliza huffed. “And arrogant as well.”
The bookshelf gave way to reveal a dark passage filled with cobwebs. Rigo stepped back with a
grin and said, “Lead the way.”
She drew back in horror which made him laugh again. He was really enjoying her discomfort, and
he didn’t know what the devil had gotten into him since meeting her, but he liked it.
Logan rushed by him and through the cobwebs at an almost dead run. Bruno and Eliza followed,
with Rigo bringing up the rear. Darkness enclosed them, and the scuffle of their boots echoed in the tunnel
as a rat scurried out of the way making Eliza gasp.
When she eased back and bumped into him, he wrapped his hands around her waist. “Are you
afraid, mi amor?”
She swiveled to glare at him over her shoulder. “Heaven’s, no! And do be so kind as to remove
your hands from me this instant.”
Rigo grinned but stepped away. She continued down the narrow corridor at a quicker pace to catch
up. Obviously she didn’t want to stand next to him in the dark. Rigo rubbed his hands together. Or maybe
she did and just didn’t want to admit it.
Ahead, the tunnel ended and Logan shoved through the opening in the ceiling. Light spilled across
the dirt floor and blinded them. Logan climbed up the ladder first and peered out. “We’re in the back yard
still.”
“Yes, you’ll need to cross the yard to the north. There’s a gate at the rear.”Eliza followed him up
and Rigo shoved past Bruno just so he could be the one to stand below her.
“And stop peering up my dress, you disgusting pig.”
Bruno slapped him on the back of the head as he grasped the rungs. “What? I didn’t look...or at least
I couldn’t see anything anyway. She’s wearing too many blasted skirts.”
Rigo emerged from the opening and hauled himself out. Nothing stirred in the back yard except the
leaves on the trees. And they clambered to their feet and headed for the rear gate.
“It’s just beyond the well there.”
Musket fire exploded the silence and flock of birds burst into flight above them. “There they are.
Get them!”
~*~
Movement slowed to a standstill, or perhaps it just seemed that way as Logan De’Haviland
whipped around. Six English soldiers sprinted after them. Rigo grabbed the young woman’s wrist and
yanked her toward the exit. Bruno had reached the stone wall. The scrape of his boots sounded loud in the
eerie silence as he scrambled over it.
Only Logan stood in the way of the soldiers and the rest of the crew. Being captain was ingrained in
him and he braced to face the assault. He would give the others enough time to get away. Besides, he had
a suspicion about the coming events.
One of the soldiers tackled him and he fought back – only for effect because while they struggled to
subdue him, Rigo and the rest could get away.
The weight of so many soldiers finally toppled him and he landed with a thud. They wrenched his
arms behind his back.
Escaping wasn’t an option at this point.
He had an upcoming reunion to look forward to, and he needed to be available when it occurred.
Twenty
Angel followed Blac down Queen Street toward the Market Exchange. She had to double her stride
to keep up. A drunken seaman sprawled just outside one of the taverns and she stepped over his legs just
as the empty rum bottle in his hand dropped and rolled across the ground.
She’d worn her knee breeches and boots, tucking her hair up under a cap, although several strands
had escaped to tickle her neck. They neared the tip of the port at the intersection of Lime Street and Queen
Street. They rounded the corner by one of the two-story wood structures, past the Customs House toward
the north docks.
Barrels of liquid, what she assumed was ale, lined the side of a building beside a large stack of
wood. Trash littered the street and the stench of refuse and rotten food permeated the back alleys. The
forest of masts rose out of the harbor mouth and the salty breeze whipped her face, cooling the
perspiration beading on her skin.
They passed several storage buildings, warehouses, and stores until they cut down an alley. The
passageway widened and was cornered by four large buildings. The two-story structures blocked all the
light, and shadows danced amongst the alcoves. An eerie shiver danced along her spine and she tightened
her grip on his hand. The alley was littered with boxes, filth, empty bottles, and trash. The smell of rot
and age seemed trapped by the overlarge structures surrounding them.
Blac glanced around. “This is the address.”
He tugged her through a gate and into the rear yard of the brick A-frame shop. The building
appeared abandoned and empty. Two dark windows stared down at them from above and she detected no
movement within. A hearth was built into the back corner of the building and the discarded pieces of
broken pewter plates and bowls indicated this had once been a pewter smithy.
“Why are we here?” she whispered.
“I don’t know but stay close by.” Blac seemed to be examining the area, scanning for exits, and
Angel figured she probably should too. But the wooden door swung opened like a wide, gaping mouth and
for long moments no one appeared.
Angel tensed and kept her eyes trained on that door.
The slight breeze wafted through her hair and it seemed even nature held its breath. Waiting.
Blac eased her behind him and moved toward the door, drawing his sword as they walked. Angel
wanted to grab him back. Make him stay put. The urge to scream almost overwhelmed her.
They reached the doorway, and her fists tightened until her nails bit into her palms. Unease slid
down her spine. Her hands reached for his waist as he entered, and he stiffened under her hands.
Angel peered over his shoulder. Red-coated soldiers lined the walls with guns aimed in their
direction. The lieutenant stood in the room’s center.
His short, frail frame seemed dominated by the rest of the soldiers in the room. Not a single dark
hair surrounding the narrow face was out of place.
“Charles.” Blac crossed his arms across his chest.
The lieutenant finished straightening his cuffs, making them wait for a response. “Blac. We meet
again. And I see you’ve kept yo
ur word and brought me the girl.”
“I have the commander. I’ll hand him over as soon as I get what I want.”
Charles laughed. “You sound like you think you’re in the position to bargain, Blac. Let me remind
you. You are not.”
Blac shrugged. “Then you don’t wish to have your commanding officer returned to you? Interesting.
I had always taken you for a man who cared about his reputation. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that’s
perhaps all you care about.”
“Indeed,” Charles replied. “You would be right, for the most part. Although, there are one or two
other things I care about. But let’s not talk about me. Let’s talk about you!”
Charles stepped toward them, and his hand snaked out to seize Angel by the arm. He dragged her
away. Blac reached for her, but the sound of multiple triggers being cocked stopped him.
Angel’s heart raced as the slightest tick in Blac’s jaw started in earnest. He hadn’t planned on this.
She shifted uneasily and waited to see what happened next. Hopefully, Bruno and Rigo had managed to
get her father free. Now if only she and Blac could escape.
Charles’s hand tightened on her upper arm until she grimaced and pulled away from him. He turned
in her direction. “Where do you think you’re going?” He chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’ll be with your
father soon enough.”
He shoved her toward his guards and she landed hard at their feet hard. Someone hauled her to feet,
but at least their hold wasn’t near as brutal as the lieutenant’s.
“Now, Blac, where were we? Oh yes, my commander.” Charles waved a hand. Footsteps sounded
and the overweight commander paused on the last step. Angel gasped and clamped both of her hands over
her mouth.
“You’re wondering how he got free?” Charles said. “Well, you see Blac, you’re not the only one
with well paid informants.” The sea of red-coated lackeys parted at the rear of the room. Her newest
crewman, Harry, hung by his jacket over a hook on the door. His face was battered and bruised, with a
swollen nose and lip. His eyes blackened and an egg-sized knot had formed on his left temple with a cut
dribbling blood to his chin.
Angel gasped.
“Foolish boy. He thought he could change his mind. I made sure to teach him the lesson that once