by ML Guida
The tempestuous demon Natasa straddled Zuto’s hips, the morning daybreak outlining her lovely naked body. She rode him hard, grinding his hips into the hard sand, her large breasts bouncing up and down. He met her fierce thrusts with the same fury she demanded. Wanting this to be over, he concentrated on the rolling waves and not his fiendish enemy forcing him to pleasure her. When she came, she cried out and arched her back, her long hair tumbling down her side like a red waterfall.
There was a time when he’d would have done anything for her, but she’d turned on him, betraying him, and now he hated her with every breath of his body. He panted, trying to catch his breath. His back stung where she’d scratched him with her long fingernails, and his shoulder throbbed with pain where the demon bitch had sunk her sharp teeth. He glimpsed at the dried blood sticking to his flesh.
She twirled a long strand of Zuto’s hair around her finger and laughed. “I love returning from Salem to fuck you.”
Zuto tried to remain stoic, not wanting her to know how much her touch made him want to scrub his skin from his bones, but a betraying shudder fluttered down his spine.
“What’s wrong, my big strong demon?” She licked his cheek. “Craving one more toss?”
“The sun’s about to rise.”
“Ready to get ready of me so soon? I’m so disappointed.”
Her overly sweet breath turned his stomach.
She squeezed his cheeks with her cruel fingers. “Kiss me.”
He clamped his jaw tight.
She slowly released him, her fingernails scratching his skin. “Now.”
Cringing at having to taste her foulness one more time, he snatched her and kissed her hard, pushing back the temptation to bite off her tongue. He had to play it safe, let her think she was more powerful, so she wouldn’t suspect until it was too late.
Natasa whimpered, digging her nails into his arms, tearing his skin.
He stiffened.
She bit his lip, drawing blood. “Until tomorrow night.”
The sun peeked over the mountain, piercing the darkness. Natasa faded, the pressure of her body sitting on his finally gone. He rolled to his side and spat blood onto the sand. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Filthy bitch.”
How many more days would he have to endure this? The spider should have been guarding the web to keep both Lark and Natasa prisoners in Salem, but somehow Natasa had found a way to pierce the time spider’s web to cross into this time. She could slip through during the night, but was forced to go back during the day. He smiled. Her smugness would soon fade into horror. He’d found a way to keep her trapped in Salem forever—all he needed was for that fool Ronan Macmillan to impregnate an undine to create a binding spill.
He staggered to his feet and stumbled toward his hut. The witch Mariah was a thorn in his side. If she found a way to free her brother Lark, then Natasa could slip through and Zuto would end up her slave again.
His god, Maketabori, wanted him punished for not bringing Hannah to him, since her father was responsible for the death of his worshipers. Zuto had cast a spell, giving the crew of the Soaring Phoenix an undeniable thirst and drew them to his island. When they drank from a cursed pool, they soon discovered that they changed into vampires during the full moon. If they didn’t feed, they were sorely punished. He’d promised to lift the curse if they handed over Hannah Knight but the bastards had betrayed him and refused. He detested everyone aboard the Soaring Phoenix. Each one of them would die a horrible death, starting with Ronan Macmillan.
He flung open the door to his hut and flopped down in front of the fire. Staring at the fire pit, Zuto sat with his legs crossed. The flames flickered, and he could see the witch Mariah going through her spell book, obviously looking for a way to break Ronan’s curse. Frustration pumped through his veins. He couldn’t let her discover why only Ronan could satisfy the spell and not anyone else on board the Phoenix. Time to stop her prattling again. He waved his hand in front of the fire. “Acu’.”
Out of his palm, a black mist formed and swirled into the fire. Spinning like an arrow, it pierced her forehead, casting a veil over her seeing eye. Mariah blinked and shook her head. He smiled. She’d never remember what happened. Anyone there wouldn’t see it either, unless they were demonic.
“By the time you figure out my plan, it will be too late.” Satisfied, he lay down and closed his eyes. He put his forearm over his forehead, trying to block out the terrors from last night, but his battered body wouldn’t let him forget.
Chapter Three
Ronan sat on his hammock and watched Doc stitch and re-bandage his cauterized stump. He should have known that herbs or a magical stone were futile against a demon. Revenge brewed in his gut. He’d rip out Zuto’s soul.
Doc clicked his tongue. “I swear da wound was healin’. It’s as if it were cut again. Pain botherin’ ya?”
Ronan refused to answer and drank from a bottle of rum. The pain had turned into a dull throb, and he wanted the rum. He needed it. Needed to get good and drunk.
Doc packed up his needle, thread, and white strips of cloth. “I’ll leave ye alone, Macmillan.”
Ronan swung his legs onto his hammock, took another a swig of rum, and stared at the ceiling in the crew’s quarters. He kept going over the battle, thinking of what he could have done differently—how he could have avoided Zuto’s malicious swing.
He took another swig, then closed his eyes. It didn’t matter. He drifted again into a mindless sleep, but this time, instead of dreaming about Zuto, the image of the blond woman formed. Those blue eyes called to him, and peace flooded him. He wanted to run his hands over all those curves. She was a full woman, not a thin waif like Hannah or Mariah.
A throbbing pain pounded into his temples, and he woke. Sweat drenched him. He gripped the bottle tight. Why did thinking of the sensual woman sweep agony over him? Was she evil?
He fell back into an uneasy sleep, but his eyes fluttered open. A shadow fell across him. Fear froze his heart and lungs. Zuto!
Ronan shot out of the hammock and lifted the empty bottle, his only weapon.
“Ronan.” A deep Irish brogue whispered his name.
“Jaysus.” Ronan slowly lowered the bottle. “Capt’n. I thought—”
Kane stood next to him and folded his arms across his chest. “Still having nightmares?”
“Aye.”
“You think drinking rum is going to stay the dreams?”
Ronan glared, grogginess still gripped him. “How long have I been asleep?”
“About fourteen hours. You’ve missed both dinner and breakfast. Time to get up.”
“Why? Not much I can do aboard the ship, is there?”
Kane ripped the bottle out of his hand. “You’re not the first pirate to lose a hand, mate.”
“I’m useless, Capt’n.” He reached for the bottle, but Kane held it out of reach. If he had been anyone, but Kane, he would have lunged out of the hammock and smashed his fist into his face. “I canna wield a sword or hold a pistol.”
“You can learn to use your other hand instead of drinking like a sorry arse.” Kane sniffed the empty bottle and cast him a disapproving glance.
Ronan rubbed the bridge between his nose. “’Tis folly.”
“’Tis folly as long as you lay around in bed like a horse shot in the leg.”
Ronan put his arm across his forehead. “What do you expect me to do, Capt’n?”
“What else? Fight. Doc says you’re well enough to get back to work. I’m ordering you to get your ass out of this hammock and make yourself useful on my ship.”
“Doin’ what?”
“Talk with Mariah”
“Why? The last time I talked with the witch, I burst into flames. Her magic doesna work, Capt’n. Zuto’s too strong. Admit it.”
“No, I won’t.” Kane grabbed the hammock and jerked.
Ronan fell out and sprawled out onto the floor. “What the devil are you doin’?”
“Quit
feeling sorry for yourself.” His voice had lost all its compassion.
Ronan chewed on the inside of his cheek. Would Kane feel this way if Zuto cut off one of his limbs?
“Mariah has researched her books and needs to ask you about what Zuto told you.”
“Why? So, I can turn into a pirate torch?”
“You’re not the only one in trouble, Macmillan. Lark is imprisoned God knows where. And we can’t find a cure for the bloody curse without him.” He held out his hand. “Get up.”
Ronan winced. Blimey, he’d been thinking of his own misery, and he’d totally forgotten about Lark. Lark had sacrificed himself to save him one too many times. Lord knew what the spider had done to him. He owed Lark and needed to start thinking about someone else besides himself.
He gripped Kane’s outstretched hand and allowed him to pull him to his feet. “Aye, aye, Capt’n.”
Kane wrinkled his nose and took a step back. “Take a bath, mate, ye stink to the high seas.”
***
After finishing his bath and putting on some clean clothes, Ronan had to admit the soak did him good. But even taking the dip had been a chore. Scrubbing with his left hand, he kept dropping the soap in the water and washing his hair had been a beast. He struggled to button his shirt and put on his damn trousers. Still, he refused to ask for help. He was a warrior, not a cripple.
He found Mariah, stunning as always with her black hair and violet eyes, in the galley with a couple of books on the table in front of her, but he instantly thought of the blonde in his dreams. Desire flickered through him. She was more beautiful than Mariah. Stop it. She wasn’t real. This ship was real. Mariah was real. And she was in love with a dragon-shifter.
William sat next to her and ran his fingers over her slender back. She gave him a sly look.
Ronan heart’s clenched. He knew that lover’s secret look. He wanted her, always would, not some make-believe lass.
He stuffed his wrist into his pocket to hide it from Mariah, then slumped across from the starry-eyed sweethearts. What lass would want him now with being half a man?
She glanced at his pocket, and pity reflected in those beautiful eyes. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Ronan. ’Tis naught to be embarrassed about.”
“I donna need your sympathy, lass.” Ronan got up from the table and knocked his chair over. He headed for the galley to grab a bottle of rum.
“I suggest you sit, Macmillan,” a deadly voice said.
Ronan groaned and stopped. He glanced over his shoulder.
Kane tilted his head toward Mariah and William. “Now.”
Ronan clenched his left hand and stormed back over to the table. He grabbed the knocked-over chair and sat.
Kane slid into a chair next to him.
“What are you doing?” Ronan asked. “Donna you have to be up on deck?”
Ignoring him, Kane gazed at Mariah. “What have you found?”
“How are you feeling, Ronan?” asked Mariah. “I have been so worried about you.”
Ronan gritted his teeth. “I donna want your pity, Mariah.”
She lowered her gaze.
“She wasn’t giving you pity, you hard-nosed Irishman,” William said. “She’s been deeply concerned. We all are.”
Ronan chewed his lip. “I’m sorry, Mariah. I’m not myself.”
“Oui,” she said. “Je la comprends.”
Did she? He wasn’t the man he used to be. More of an empty shell. “The capt’n says you’ve more questions?”
She tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “I know the demon said that Lark was taken by a time travel spider.” She waved her hand over her books. “But I have poured over my spell and lore books, and I cannot find anything about time traveling spiders. Was there anything else Zuto told you, Ronan?”
“He said dragon fire canna destroy the spider.”
She tapped her slender fingers on the pages of the book. “So, ’tis more powerful than a dragon.”
Ronan shrugged. “I donna know. He demanded I bring him an undine.”
“You mean mermaids? They can’t be trusted.” Uneasiness flashed in William’s eyes. “They appear to sailors, sing a song of seduction, and lower them to their depths in the ocean.”
Mariah clasped William’s hand and caressed it with her thumb. “I keep telling you undines are not mermaids, mon coeur. Besides, they do not have tails.”
Kane frowned. “There’s a difference?”
“Oui,” Mariah said. “Unlike mermaids, undines are water elementals. Their magie is mirrored in the water. They can become human at will. Unlike mermaids, they can also control water—freezing it, turning it into fog, or creating waves.”
Kane’s face darkened. “Are they a danger to my ship?”
“No, le Capitaine. Undines avoid humans. You have probably sailed next to them and never knew it.”
“We would have noticed scantily clad lasses,” he said.
“They can take other forms such as porpoises, oui? They usually shy away from man.” She knotted her slender eyebrows. “I wonder why Zuto wants an undine.”
William kissed her briefly on the pursued lips.
Ronan turned his head. Watching the slightest touch between them was becoming harder and harder to endure. Trying to get them to stop, he cleared his throat.
It worked. Mariah pushed at William’s chest, her cheeks burning red. William scowled, but Ronan didn’t care.
“Je suis désolé,” Mariah said. “What do you remember about Zuto?”
Ronan shrugged. “He didna say. He wants an undine that has mated with a human, then he said he’d tell me how to rescue Lark and heal my hand.”
William and Kane glanced at each other, and Ronan stiffened. He knew that ‘you’re as bone-headed as a barracuda’ look. Didn’t they understand he knew what Zuto was—a twisted liar? But the bastard held the key to find Lark and to heal him. What choices did he have?.
Mariah ran her hand through her hair. “Maybe if an undine mates with a human she becomes more powerful, powerful enough to restore your hand and save my brother. If this is so, I fear the demon will kill her to steal her blood.”
“He didna say he’d kill her,” Ronan said.
William rolled his eyes. “Are you daft? Of course, the bastard plans on killing her. He wants her power.”
Ronan clutched his trousers with his left hand to keep from slamming into William’s smug face. William had found a way to live with his curse, but he turned into a dragon, not into a crippled cur. He was now one of the most important crew members aboard the ship.
Mariah looked up from one of the pages in a spell book. “The undines may know what power the demon is hunting for. They may provide us with an answer.”
Ronan drummed his fingers on the table, but even with this some effort, he had to concentrate. “Can you summon one?”
Mariah laughed, a light sweet giggle. “They are not dogs, mon ami.”
Ronan should be mad, but he liked her laugh and smiled.
She stopped laughing. “Undines avoid men, so they will not come willingly to us.”
Ronan thought about the blond woman in his dreams. He didn’t like what they were planning to do to force an undine to come aboard the ship. What if it was her? He clamped his jaw tight. Remember, she isn’t human.
Kane rubbed his chin. “Do you know where we can locate one?”
“No,” Mariah said. “But I can conjure a spell to capture one, but it will take time.”
Kane stood. “And my men will not be in danger?”
She patted Kane’s hand. “I promise.”
“Then conjure the spell.”
“She’ll be a prisoner? You expect one of the crew to mate with her just so you can rescue your brother?” Ronan asked, surprised at the sharpness in his voice.
Mariah winced. “Oui.”
William’s eyes turned gold. “I’m warning you, Ronan.”
Ronan didn’t answer him, but looked at Mariah. “Twill not be me.�
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“I never said it would be,” she said.
Ronan knew she was lying. They were all thinking it. Why else would Zuto task him with the undine? Was the lass actually an undine? He didn’t like being a pawn in the damn demon’s scheme.
Kane put his hands on the back of his chair. “And if the undine escapes or dies?”
“Then my brother remains trapped in time and Ronan will remain maimed.”
He slapped his hands on the chair. “Notify me when you have a course. I’ll be up on deck.”
“Come, William,” Mariah said. “I need a dragon’s assistance in this matter.”
A sly smile spread across William’s face, and Ronan rolled his eyes. Kane had told him that Mariah’s powers were stronger with sex. He wanted to crawl under the table and go back to nursing a bottle of rum.
“Coming, Macmillan?” Kane waited at the doorway. “Since my master gunner Amadi is on the island with his new sweetheart Violet instructing the freed slaves how to live as men, I’ve ordered Mallory to teach you the sword.”
“I donna need any lessons,” Ronan grumbled.
Kane motioned with his hand. “That wasn’t a request.”
Ronan brushed past Kane. “I’ll learn the sword, Capt’n, but donna ask me to mate with some damn fish.”
Ronan headed toward the stairs to go up on deck.
“Ronan, wait.” Mariah rushed over to him and held something in her hand.
’Twas the damn necklace.
“You must wear this for protection,” she said.
“No.”
She placed her hand over his heart. “If you do not, the black magic will grow inside you. S’il vous plaît.”
His heart leapt at her gentle touch. He stared into her gentle eyes, and his resolve was weakening. “I said—”
Kane headed down the corridor. “Ronan, put it on.’Tis an order.”
Ronan stared at the chain in Mariah’s hand. Last time, Zuto had punished him for wearing it.
“S’il vous plaît.” She tried to hand it to him.
Staring at her hand, he stepped away from her as if the barest touch from the amulet would release unbearable pain. He opened his mouth to refuse, but her luscious smell and pleading look broke his resolve. Even if Zuto burned him a thousand times, he’d wear the damn necklace.