by ML Guida
He lowered his gaze. “I didn’t discover until later, I could feed without killing, but by then...”
Disgust shone in her eyes. “You killed many?”
“Aye, I did.” He slumped into the seat. The carriage turned and the shadows returned, but he could see into the darkness. Hannah turned away and stared out the carriage window, averting her eyes from him. From his face, from what he had become. A monster. Now that she knew the truth, he lost her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hannah dug her nails into the carriage cushion and stared at Kane across the rocking carriage.
His eyes were scarlet, his teeth glistened and he was covered with Jacques’ blood.
She swallowed back the awful bile to keep from vomiting.
He wiped his mouth and leaned his head back against the carriage seat. His chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. The carriage jostled over a rut. Kane winced. He looked so utterly vulnerable.
Her heart squeezed. She clenched her hands into fists in her lap, simultaneously wanting to pull him to her breasts and push him away. How could she feel both smitten and disgusted?
Kane’s face paled and he groaned. She left her mallet on her seat and moved across the carriage to sit next to him. She clasped his chin, turned his head and peered into his glistening eyes. He blinked and the wetness vanished.
“You didn’t kill Jacques or his men.”
“Aye,” he said. “When I hear their beating heart, I stop. The victim will be tired, but they won’t die. I don’t kill, Hannah, unless I have to.”
His hair stuck to his face and she pushed it behind his ears. She stared at his lips, remembering how he had kissed her, how much she wanted him. Vampire or not, she wanted this man. “You’re not a monster, Kane. I just don’t know how to cope with this.”
She lowered her gaze, put her hand on his chest and felt his beating heart. “Father always said monsters didn’t have hearts, but you do. It beats hard and strong like mine. You bleed like a man.”
She tilted her head and captured his lips, her exploring tongue opening his mouth, savoring his masculine taste. His scent of sandalwood erased the memory of decaying oranges. He responded back, his kiss deepening, but he groaned.
She jerked back. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No, lass,” he panted. “I wish I could hold you.”
She lowered her gaze. “I know.” She ran her fingers down his chest. “You will.” Blood drenched his arms and his arms hung loose from his sockets. “What can I do to ease your pain?”
“Stay with me.”
She snuggled close to him, careful not to hurt him. Kane leaned his head on her shoulder and she ran her fingers through his hair. He fell asleep, his snores comforting her. A vampire? He’d told the truth. Jacques and his men were alive. Kane’s a pirate and a vampire. How could she have fallen for such a man?
Jacques was the real monster. His tart scent permeated her clothes and she wanted to wrap herself in Kane’s shirts, forever stomping out the smell. Jacques’ mouth even tasted citric, sickly sweet, bombarding her mouth with over ripe oranges. She gritted her teeth. She wished Kane had ripped out his throat, bleeding him to death, but Kane was a man of honor.
Her breasts hurt where Jacques bit her nipples. His long nails had scratched her inner thighs, violating her. Tears seeped down her cheeks.
The carriage slowly stopped. Doc opened the door. He smirked. “’Tis asleep?”
Hannah nodded.
Doc and Amadi carried Kane out of the carriage. Her shoulder went cold where his warm breath had brushed over her neck. She followed them down to the dock where a dinghy was tied to the dock, big enough for all of them. In the distance, the Soaring Phoenix was anchored off shore. Eagerness spread through her. She wanted off this bloody island.
Since he was suffering so much, the trek back to the ship was a painstaking slow process, but eventually they got him onboard the ship. William and Doc draped Kane’s arms over their shoulders and dragged him to the cabin. Hannah trailed behind them.
Familiar scents of Kane, aged wood and the sea warmed her heart. She wanted to be here.
Hannah helped Kane lie down on the bed. Doc cut away the rest of his shredded shirt and pulled off his ragged breeches. “Christ.”
Hannah gasped. Deep ragged pieces of torn flesh marred his biceps and his thighs. He had black and blue bruises on his torso where Jacques had beaten him with the mallet. She swallowed. How could he endure this?
Doc tended Kane’s wounds with Hannah’s help, sewing his biceps and thighs. Kane blanched as Doc pulled the thread in his flesh snug. Hannah counted twenty stitches in each area.
Kane took deep breaths, but when Doc left, he opened his eyes. “You’re still here.”
She stared into those emerald eyes and pushed his thick locks away from his stitches in his temple.
He squeezed her hand. “I’ve missed you.”
She smiled and rubbed her thumb over his hand. He was so different from her father who’d never have risked his life for her. “I’ve never told you thank you for coming for me. I can’t imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”
“You’re a survivor, Hannah. You’d have found a way.”
His faith never failed to astound her. His few words gave her strength to believe in herself. “Thank you.”
Kane pulled her down on top of his chest. She wanted to kiss him, but Jacques’s leering face appeared in her mind. She turned her head and swallowed hard. Kane could force himself on her. Even wounded, he was stronger, more powerful than her. She held her breath and waited.
“Do you fear me?” Kane asked.
A hint of sadness was embedded in his voice, but he gave her an impassive look betraying no emotion. Had she imagined it?
“No,” she said. Why was she thinking of Jacques? She couldn’t help it. She smelled of Jacques and her skin and lips were soiled from his touch. How could she tell Kane this?
“Will you stay with me a little longer Hannah? I promise I’ll behave.”
She nodded and snuggled next to him. The clock ticked away and her fears lessened, but her skin crawled. She needed a bath to scrub away Jacques’ scent and horrors of the dungeon.
She sat up. “Kane?”
“Mmmmm,” he said.
“Can I have a bath?”
His eye peered open. “A bath?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll get up and have…”
“No, I’ll do it.”
Before she could move, he leaned over and kissed her lips. She tensed. He stopped and sighed. “I’ll order the bath. Stay here.”
“Thank you.”
“Afterwards, we will sup.”
She nodded, not sure she could eat anything.
Kane rolled out of bed. She was surprised on how he didn’t wobble, although his steps were slow. She sat on the bed and waited for the bath, hoping to wipe away the last stains of Jacques D’Aubigne.
Hannah soaked in a hot steamy bath and examined the ugly jagged red scratches on her breasts. Teeth marks outlined her right nipple. How could a man have such sharp teeth?
Sobs racked her body and tears splattered into the tub. She slapped the water, sloshing water on to the floor, trying to forget his small hands roaming over her body. He slammed his knee into her tight legs, his bony knee forcing her thighs apart. She lifted her left leg out of the water and caressed the tender purple bruise, the size of Jacques’ bony knee.
Gingerly putting her leg back in the water, she closed her eyes, trying not to remember. But his hot breath and disgusting scent would not leave. She opened her eyes. Rubbing her bruised nipple, she swallowed. She could still feel his sharp teeth biting, pulling and twisting her nipple. With each whimper, he had sucked harder, bit harder, twisted hard. Did he think he was pleasing her? Couldn’t tell when a woman experienced pleasure?
She shuddered as he laved his way down past her navel. His sloppy kisses staining her skin. Soaking in
the water didn’t erase the feel of his lips on her. He kissed his way down her body, panting and grunting like a hungry pig, leaving hot spit on her flesh. When he had wedged his head between her thighs, his tongue tasting her, she had wanted to squeeze his head like a melon.
Not once had he tried to be gentle. Not once did he care for her pleasure. Not once did he stop grunting. She wiped away an angry tear.
No matter how much she scrubbed she couldn’t remove the feel of his tongue on her. She wanted to forget, forget how his fingernails scratched her. After he licked her core, he had jabbed his finger inside her, forcing her tense folds apart. She shuddered, remembering the pain as he explored her, violating her secrets. How could a man have such long fingernails? What damage would Jacques had done if he’d had raped her?
She sniffed her skin and grimaced. Why could she not get rid of Jacques’ foul smell? She’d never eat an orange again. Gripping the lavender soap, she scrubbed her skin and washed her hair squashing the sickly scent.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed back her hair behind her ears and climbed out of the tub. She dried herself and rubbed lavender lotion all over, but still smelled oranges.
Damn.
She hurried over to Kane’s closet, yanking out a shirt and inhaled. Sandalwood. She dressed in one of his shirts and pair of his trousers, wanting to drown in his scent. Safety and warmth bathed her, finally, defeating the scent of oranges.
She combed her tangled hair with her fingers and let it fall loosely around her shoulders.
Hannah opened the door to find Kane leaning against the wall. She blinked. “What are you doing? Are you in pain?”
“No,” He stood. “I was waiting to take you to dinner.”
She swallowed her fear and grinned. Kane would protect her. Jacques wasn’t aboard this ship and was stuck in Saint Kitts, strapped to a breaking wheel.
He stuck out his elbow. “May I lassie?”
“Yes, Captain, you may.”
His suave smile left her weak in the knees. She laid her hand on his bicep as he led her to the galley. Beneath her fingers, his sinew flexed, revealing his power and strength. Vampire or man, she trusted him.
He held her gaze. “Hannah.”
His firm voice startled her. “What?”
“Your father…”
Her heart quickened. “What about my father?”
“They’ve got him.”
She swallowed. “Palmer?”
“Aye.”
She gripped his shirt. “We have to go after him. Now.”
He squeezed her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. “We will, Hannah. I promise. You need to stay calm. Palmer’s counting on you losing control. Will you listen to me?”
She nodded and leaned her forehead against his chest. “But they’ll hurt him.”
“I know.”
She wanted him to deny it, but Kane didn’t lie to her. He didn’t betray her.
He rubbed her back. “Come on. We need to eat. Get our strength up.”
She gazed up at him and nodded. How could she eat knowing her father was a prisoner and likely being tortured aboard the Fiery Damsel?
In the galley, Michael, William, Sean, Doc and Amadi sat at table. Five men armed with swords, pistol and sheer determination. Doc was right. No one could hurt her while aboard this ship, but that wasn’t good enough. What would happen if they were not there again? She was tired of being the damsel in distress. Not anymore.
Kane dished up her food again. She missed this, but she picked at her food, not fully eating. How could she eat her fill knowing her father was being tortured? She refused to let her father suffer and die. “I want to learn how to fight.”
Kane choked. “You want to what?”
Jacques’ ugly face appeared in her mind. She stuck out her chin. “I don’t want to be vulnerable again. I want to learn how to use a sword. Father always refused to teach me and look what happened.”
“But you’re a lass.” He lifted his eyebrow and laughed. “You can’t learn how to fight in a couple of days.”
She jabbed her finger into his chest. “I remember how some lass stabbed you in the back and you were laid up. With my power, I’m not helpless.”
Kane studied her. She held her breath waiting for his answer.
“Kane, you’re not seriously thinking of letting her?” William demanded.
She scowled. “You’re going after the Fiery Damsel, right?”
The men exchanged glances. Kane drank his coffee and put it down before he answered. “Aye.”
“They have my father and I won’t rest until he is freed. I don’t want to be captured next. What happens if you’re all fighting and I’m alone? What if my powers are spent again? What am I supposed to do, hide under the blankets?” She glared. “I’m not going to be taken without fight. Teach me.”
Kane said nothing. He took another sip of his coffee.
William gritted his teeth, “Kane.”
Kane shrugged. “She’s right, brother, and you know it.”
William scowled.
Hannah tried to avert her triumphant smile by taking a sip of coffee. “So, who will teach me?” she said, putting the cup down and clasping her hands together.
“You’re not going to learn how to fight,” William growled. “You could be killed.”
She blinked. She’d never seen him so vehement.
William stabbed his fork into the table. “You’ve got to get out of here or die.”
She cringed. His voice was like a bathtub of cold water being thrown on her. Where was the honorable man she had known?
William seized her wrist and clutched it tight. She narrowed her eyes and grabbed her cup filled with water. “Release me.”
“Hannah,” Kane drummed his fingers on the table.
William gazed at the cup and into her face. “You would not dare.”
She shrugged, but she’d if he pressed her. She wasn’t going to be at the mercy of Jacques. She wasn’t going to be a victim.
“Fine. I apologize lass,” William mumbled, his hand releasing her wrist.
Kane gazed at her. He ran his hand down her arm. “I’ll teach you.”
She smiled. “You will?”
“You’ll regret this, Kane.” William slammed his hands down on the table. “Mark my words.” He stormed out of the galley.
“Regret? I don’t think so. I think this will be an eventful afternoon.” Kane held out his hand and Hannah gripped it. He took her hand and kissed it, his stubble brushing her skin, sending shivers through her. She licked her lips. It would be eventful.
“Come on,” Kane stood, dragging her with him. “Let’s find you a suitable weapon.”
He led her to the cargo hold. He was the captain and could have ordered any of his crew to teach her, but yet, he was the one who volunteered. She smiled. “Thank you for teaching me.”
He crowded her against a wall, his half-hooded eyes staring down at her. “I can teach you a lot of things, Hannah.”
His spicy breath washed over her. He tilted his head and his lips captured hers. She reached up and grabbed his arms, his muscles rippling beneath her. His tongue pushed open her mouth, entering as if ’twas his right to be there. Hannah lost herself in his kiss. She pressed herself against his hard body, wanting to feel the man, knowing he had risked his life for her, now giving her into request, stirred those same unnamed feelings.
Kane left her mouth, kissing down her throat. She arched up giving him full access, wanting to feel his mouth and tongue on her skin. “If we don’t stop,” he whispered, “you won’t have a lesson today.”
She panted. “Please…I…want…to…learn…the…sword.”
But she wasn’t sure she was talking about learning how to wield a sword or something else, something more sensual, more sinful.
“Very well,” he said his voice husky. He slowly stepped away from her and shook his head. “Christ, let’s find you a damn sword.”
The scent of gunpowder and s
ulfur filled the room. Rope nets secured cannonballs into stacks against one wall. Kane opened trunk after trunk stacked with boarding axes, machetes, rapiers, blunderbusses, long guns and muskets. On the other side, there was a cabinet. Inside were brass guns, broadswords, buck-shot, cavilers, carbines, cutlasses, daggers, Dutch knives, musket balls, hangers and pistols. Toward the stern, she spied barrels filled with gunpowder. She stepped back, looking at all the weapons, but none of them were as deadly as the men aboard the ship.
Kane lifted her chin. “So, what would you like?”
She swallowed, not looking at the pistols and muskets, but staring into his passionate eyes. “I don’t know.”
He pecked her on the lips, his fingers caressing her cheek. Wicked sensations raced through her, pooling at her feminine core. He broke away. “Let’s see what we can do for you.” He released her and stepped away. She was surprised at feeling disappointment, but she was the one who asked to be shown how to use a sword.
Kane picked out a ruby-handled dagger, pulling it out of its sheath. “Here.” He snorted. “This brings back memories.”
Her cheeks heated. “Kane, I didn’t mean to…”
He brushed back a strand of her hair, placing it behind her ear and her words died on her lips.
“You’re so beautiful when you blush,” he murmured.
He placed the dagger in her hand, his fingers wrapping around her hand. The dagger felt solid in her hand. Familiar.
She parted her lips, wanting to feel his on hers again. He didn’t disappoint her. This kiss was hungry, devouring. She responded in kind, not sure whether she wanted to learn to fight at that moment and instead give in to Kane’s passion. But the image of Jacques’ leering face appeared. She didn’t want to be vulnerable again, to have him take liberties. Kane would help her become strong. She needed him.
Reluctantly, she put her hand on his chest. “Kane.”
He stopped kissing her and rested his forehead on hers. “When I’m around you, all I want to do is kiss and touch you. I’m sorry.”
“Do not be,” she whispered.
He groaned and faced the cabinet. His taste lingered on her lips and she wanted more, to lick his skin, but she needed this. They were going into battle and she needed to be prepared. Her father’s life depended on it.