Her eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me fat, Jonathan?”
Jonathan fought a grin, glad to see her color returning. “Not fat so much as . . .” He played at considering his words carefully. “Ample.”
“Ample?” She bristled, shoving at his shoulder.
“No? Healthy, then? Plump? Robust?”
She smacked him harder with every word. Jonathan laughed and pulled her close, lifting her to her toes as his lips nearly brushed hers.
“Ah, I’ve got it,” he murmured against them. “Comely.”
“Comely?” Sarina said breathlessly.
“Aye. Ye’r a comely wench, Smith.” He caught her smile in a heated kiss, his tongue tracing her lips before delving deep. Sarina clung to his shoulders, a slight whimper vibrating against his mouth, and he lifted her higher, her breeches making it easy to wrap her legs about his waist. He pressed her against the statue, and Sarina slid her hands higher, tangling them in his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp as she arched forward to meet him.
A recognizable click cut through the haze of lust and want, and Jonathan stilled, fingers tightening on Sarina’s hips as she whimpered in disappointment.
“Well, isn’t this touching,” a chilling voice said from behind him. “I have to say, Jack, you do know how to have a good time.”
Jonathan let Sarina slide to the floor, her tense jaw and panicked eyes telling him all he needed to know. He turned around slowly, hands held up, and stood blocking Sarina, facing his worst enemy with a frozen glare.
“Kane.”
“Aye,” the man said with a sneer. He motioned with his extended flintlock for Jonathan to move from behind the statue, and he complied, keeping himself between Sarina and that blasted pistol the whole way. His men were in similar states, disarmed and on their knees with Kane’s men standing over them, swords drawn. He locked eyes briefly with Max, then Hutchins, and each nodded slightly. They all knew that if they didn’t fight, they were dead. They just needed to seize the right opportunity. His sister watched with wide eyes, clinging desperately to Max’s sleeve. He wished he could ask what she saw of the coming few minutes, but wasn’t certain he really wanted the answer.
Kane waved his free hand while keeping his eyes focused on Jonathan. “I appreciate you finding the treasure for me, Jack. I would have done it myself, but this was just so much more fun, don’t you agree?”
“How did you find us?”
Kane tilted his head, his smile growing wider. “You haven’t figured that out by now? And here I thought you were a rather clever fellow.” He looked pointedly to the left. Jonathan followed his gaze, his jaw tightening when he saw Rafferty step out of the shadows to casually lean against one of the golden thrones. The man wiggled his fingers in greeting before spitting on the floor, and Jonathan’s hand flew to his sword in reflex.
“I don’t think so, Jack,” Kane warned, sharp as steel as the flintlock pressed against Jonathan’s temple.
“You bastard,” he heard Sarina hiss, although he wasn’t certain if it was aimed at Kane or Rafferty.
Jonathan gritted his teeth and lifted his hands up once again, his gaze focused on Rafferty. “What did he offer you to betray us?”
He shrugged nonchalantly and moved to sit on the throne, crossing an ankle over one knee as he relaxed. “The Arrow, of course. And a larger portion o’ all o’ this than I’d ever get from the likes o’ you.”
Jonathan laughed. “You actually think he’ll give you the Arrow? I knew you were dim, but I’d never thought you an idiot.”
“Shut your gob!” he snarled, leaning forward slightly, his black teeth clenched in anger.
Jonathan ignored him. “There’s a reason he’s called Kane the Merciless, you lice-infested scalawag. You’re only worth something to him when you have something to offer. And you, you scurvy, mutinous bilge rat, are of no use at all anymore!”
“Mutinous bilge rat?” Sarina murmured from behind his shoulder. “Nice.”
“Y’don’t know what yer talkin’ about,” Rafferty snarled, glancing at Kane. “Tell ‘im, Cap’n. Tell ‘im ‘e’s wrong.”
Kane rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for this nonsense.”
“No!” Rafferty shouted, standing and stalking toward them. “Tell ‘im I’m a cap’n now. The Arrow’s mine, as it should be. Tell ‘im.”
“Watch yerself,” Kane warned with a glare. “Ye’ll get what I give ye and be glad about it.”
“But . . . the Arrow,” he protested. “You told me—“
“Avast!” Kane shouted. “Don’t push me, boy!”
Jonathan glanced at Max and could see his muscles tense, even across the room. He reached back discreetly to touch Sarina’s hand and felt her stiffen.
“I helped you!” Rafferty snapped at Kane. “You’d never have found the treasure without me!”
Without warning, Kane hauled back and punched Rafferty in the face, his flintlock never wavering from Jonathan’s head.
“I said, don’t push me,” he snarled. “Now go sit down and shut up.”
Rafferty wiped a spot of blood from his lip, then spat on the ground as he glared at Kane with hate-filled eyes. “Yer not going to give me the Arrow, are ye?” he asked quietly.
Kane laughed. “Ships are for captains,” he said as if that explained everything. Rafferty’s jaw tightened and his hand flew to his sword, drawing it as he lunged toward Kane.
He didn’t get two steps.
Without blinking, Kane swept his arm to the side, firing his flintlock and hitting Rafferty between the eyes. The Arrow’s master gunner—former master gunner—fell to his knees, wide-eyed, a shocked gasp escaping his lips before he collapsed in a crumpled heap amidst a pile of gold coins.
The room stilled in shock, but Jonathan didn’t wait for Kane and his men to recover. He drew his sword, shoving Sarina backward as he swung it in a wide arc toward his enemy. Kane caught sight of the movement quickly enough to shift his weight, and Jonathan’s sword clanged against the still-smoking barrel of the flintlock.
Jonathan’s men hadn’t waited, either. They sprang into action, kicking out at their guards and scrambling for their weapons. He could hear the sound of battle all around him and grinned in satisfaction, stepping over Rafferty’s lifeless body to swing again at Kane. The blackguard dropped his pistol and drew his sword just in time to intercept the blow, and Jonathan spun, coming at him again from another angle.
Their swords caught, crossed between them as they leaned in with matching grimaces.
“You can’t win, Jack,” Kane snarled.
“We’ll see,” he replied, shoving Kane back and jumping onto a table to gain a height advantage. He spotted Sarina across the room, sword drawn as she hurried to James’ aid. Ceron was fighting two of Kane’s men at once, and Jonathan spared a moment to regret ever doubting the man. Barton spied Sarina and started toward her, but before Jonathan could act, Kane came at him again, sword flashing in the dim light of the cavern.
“Smith!” he shouted as he jumped over Kane’s sword, then parried with a quick turn. “On your flank!”
Sarina whirled about just in time to duck under Barton’s swing. She ran past Jonathan and jumped up onto the statue’s platform. “Are you watching my flank again?” She kicked one of Kane’s men in the face, grimacing slightly.
Jonathan laughed as he leaped from the table to the platform to stand beside her. “It’s a nice flank.”
Barton had turned his attention to Max, who fought side-by-side with James across the room. Hutchins shouted victoriously as he sliced the leg of one of Kane’s men, who fell to the floor with a shriek before the master rigger turned to take on another. Jonathan wondered how many men Kane had brought with him. They were already outnumbered, but the size of the room leveled the playing field a bit. There were only so many people who could fit inside, and Jenkins and Allegheny moved to the door, effectively striking down anyone else who tried to come in.
“Look alive, men,” Jo
nathan shouted, sword held high. “If any of these scurvy bastards leave these caves to bring back reinforcements, I’ll have ye lights and livers!”
His men shouted in agreement, fighting with increased vigor, and Jonathan saw Kane shove off Crawley, his glittering black eyes focused on Jonathan as he started toward him.
“All right then,” Jonathan muttered. “Come and get me.”
Rina’s arms ached, but she forced herself to hold her sword aloft. She winced as she spotted Charlotte across the room, taking a blow to the head before she crumpled to the floor. Max shouted her name and bent over her, touching her neck gently. He whirled around to fight again, and Rina sighed with relief when she saw Charlotte’s chest expand with breath.
Jonathan jumped off the platform, fighting his way toward Kane, and Rina’s heart raced with worry. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, however, before the man she’d kicked in the nose got to his feet with a ferocious glare. Rina gulped and wished she had a rum jug.
“Ye’ll pay fer that, wench,” he snarled, wiping his nose with the back of one hand as he raised his sword with the other. She stepped back, eyes scanning for a means of escape. Her size was a disadvantage in a face-to-face fight, and her mind raced to even the odds. She spotted a gold-plated shield leaning against the back of the platform and saw her opportunity. As the man lunged at her, she jumped backward, stumbling and landing inelegantly on her backside with a loud, “Oof!”
The man leapt up onto the platform with a leering grin. “Don’t worry, wench. I’ll make it quick.”
Rina kept her eyes firmly on him as she reached out for the shield, her fingers scrabbling on a pile of coins. A wave of despair clutched at her as she realized the shield was too far away. The man advanced, looming over her, and she stretched farther, finally touching something round and hard, half-buried beneath the coins.
A rock. It could be her only chance. Around her, the fighting intensified with swords clashing and shouts of victory and pain, but behind the statue she was hidden from anyone who might help her, hidden from Jonathan. She clutched at the rock desperately as the man jumped off the platform and bent to sneer at her, his sword pointed at her throat.
“Or mayhap I’ll make it slow,” he said, rank breath and spittle spraying her face as his gaze drifted over her body.
Rina feigned paralysis, widening her eyes and willing him closer. Her fingers found a hole in the rock, and she tightened her grip. She held her breath as he stepped forward and dropped to his knees, straddling her. Her heart raced as he turned the sword so the flat lay against her neck and she struggled, only to freeze when he pressed the blade more firmly into her skin.
“I do like ‘em feisty,” he muttered, licking his lips.
Rina grimaced, her stomach roiling with nausea when he ran his nose down her cheek. The sword clattered to the floor as he replaced it with his hand, and she swallowed, feeling his fingers tighten around her neck.
He lifted his head. “Fight gone outta you?” he mocked, his hand sweeping down to tear at her shirt. “’At’s a good wench.”
Rina muttered, “Well it’s not a rum jug, but . . .” She swung the rock with all her strength at the man’s still-oozing nose. He howled as blood flowed more freely, joined by a stream from a newly-split lip. He rolled onto his back, pressing against the new wounds with both hands. She sprang to her feet and wasted no time kicking the man hard between his legs, anger and terror giving her a surge of strength. He screamed, curling up into a ball as she kicked him again for good measure. She lifted her hand to throw the rock at his head but made the mistake of looking at it first.
It wasn’t a rock.
Her fingers gripped the eyeholes in the human skull of one of Mellick’s assumed workers. The jaw was missing, and the grisly half-grin turned Sarina’s stomach yet again. She shrieked and threw the skull to the ground, hitting the pirate in the head, despite her lack of aim. She stood over his body, trembling and breathing in harsh pants, when Jonathan bounded over the platform with his sword held high. He took in the scene with amusement, until he noticed Rina’s trembling and the tear in her shirt. His face darkened with fury, and he turned slowly to the man lying on the floor. He lowered his sword until the tip barely touched the man’s neck. Her attacker froze, then rolled onto his back, hands held by his head in deference. Jonathan pressed a little harder with his sword, until a drop of blood bloomed at the point and mingled with the trickle from the man’s nose and mouth.
“You dare,” Jonathan hissed. “You dare to touch my woman?”
Rina watched in shock and horror, finally jolting out of her stupor to say weakly, “Jonathan?”
He ignored her. “She is mine,” he spat through gritted teeth, his voice low and deadly, “and you will pay.”
She swallowed a wave of nausea. She’d seen Jonathan angry before, but never infused with such a single-minded, frigid rage. She had no doubt he was about to kill a man right before her eyes. To her surprise, he lifted his sword slightly, then kicked the pirate’s own sword toward him.
“Pick it up.”
The man blinked in surprise, but the look on his face quickly melted into fear as he took in Jonathan’s icy determination. He picked up his sword, though, and shakily got to his feet. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the hilt firmly in both hands and braced his feet for Jonathan’s attack.
In the end, though, his preparations mattered little. Like an avenging angel, Jonathan advanced, sword flashing in the reflected lantern light. It took only one blow before his opponent’s sword went flying yet again, but Jonathan didn’t relent. He whirled about, and Rina clenched her eyes shut, only opening them moments later when she felt his arms encircle her.
“It’s all right,” he murmured quietly into her hair. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head, unable to speak when she saw the body lying on the floor behind him, the man’s shirt covered with blood. She spun around to bend over with her hands on her knees as she breathed deeply, fighting the compulsion to vomit. Jonathan’s shout drew her attention, and she looked up to find him once again on the platform, fighting another of Kane’s men. No . . . two of Kane’s men. Kane, himself had been detained by Allegheny, much to Jonathan’s apparent irritation.
Rina swallowed, purposely avoiding looking at the dead body beside her. “Now’s not the time, Smith,” she muttered to herself, bending to pick up her sword. “You can fall apart when the fight is over.” She jumped up onto the platform and deflected the blow of one of Jonathan’s attackers. Jonathan glanced at her, relief evident on his features.
“Nice of you to join us.”
She reached down for the shield she’d spotted earlier as Jonathan parried with first one man, then the other. She saw James approaching, fighting off his own opponent.
“I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” she said, swinging the shield with both hands at one of the men Jonathan was fighting. A loud clang echoed through the chamber over the shouts and clashing of swords. The man blinked, stunned, before falling first to his knees, then flat onto his face.
“Aaahhhrrr!” Sarina shouted down at his inert body, all the anger and fear of the past few minutes erupting at once.
“Did you just say Aaahhhrrr?” James asked as he struck down his own opponent and jumped up onto the platform to catch his breath. He and Jonathan exchanged an amused glance, but Rina raised her chin stubbornly.
“It’s what pirates say, isn’t it?”
Jonathan kicked at his opponent, then looked at James again. The two men shrugged and turned to jump back into the fray.
They both shouted, “’Aaahhhrrr!” on the way.
Rina gripped her shield and jumped down to follow Jonathan. He fought his way toward Kane, and she used her shield to both deflect blows and deal a few of her own. The fight had seemed to turn in their favor, with more of Kane’s men lying on the floor than standing and fighting. But Rina knew there was only one fight on Jonathan’s mind. It was the same one on her’s. Ang
er burned in her chest when she caught a glimpse of Kane’s face, mouth twisted in a grin as he spotted Jonathan coming toward him.
“I think it’s time we end this once and for all, Jack.”
Jonathan elbowed another man out of his way before answering, “For the first time, we agree, old man.”
They came together in a frenzy of sword clashes, evenly matched in both skill and motivation. Rina watched, heart in her throat, as first Jonathan seemed to prevail—the tip of his blade slicing across the older man’s ribcage —then Kane, who created a similar wound along the length of Jonathan’s thigh. Kane pressed his advantage, forcing Jonathan back against a table with three quick slashes of his sword. Jonathan rolled over the table, springing to his feet on the other side and ignoring the blood trickling down his breeches. Barton elbowed one of the Arrow’s crewmen in the face and started toward Jonathan, sword at the ready, but Kane stopped him with a shout.
“No,” he said, climbing over the table. “Tremayne is mine.” He attacked with no further warning, his blade cutting through the air. Jonathan deflected the blows but retreated, stumbling backward on his injured leg. Rina saw too late the obstruction in his path, and just when she opened her mouth to shout a warning, Jonathan fell backward over Rafferty’s lifeless body, his sword falling from his fingers.
Kane laughed, moving to stand over Jonathan as he lay sprawled amidst the coins and carnage. “When will you learn that you can never win against me, Jack?” He grinned, gloating as Jonathan reached for his sword. Rina gulped, eyes darting about for a way to help and landing on the table behind Kane. She moved quietly toward it as Kane placed the point of his blade against Jonathan’s neck.
“Such a pity. You really showed so much promise,” Kane said, shaking his head mockingly. “But I really have no more time to waste on you. I do have a treasure to collect, after all.” His blade drifted down Jonathan’s chest, coming to a stop with the point above his heart.
Rina climbed up onto the table behind Kane. Nobody paid her much attention, each focused on his own fight. Barton watched Kane’s actions carefully, jaw tight as his fist tightened around the hilt of his own sword.
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