by ML Guida
Ronan knocked his arm away. “Donna touch her.”
Palmer glared. “Answer me.”
“Because we mated.”
Palmer slapped Ronan across the face. “Fuck her again.”
Blood swirled in Ronan’s mouth. He spat and drops of crimson stained Palmer’s crusty boots. “Drop dead.”
Palmer narrowed his eyes and motioned. Men rushed them.
Ronan swung and smashed his fist into an unlucky pirate’s bearded jaw. “Angelica, jump into the ocean! Now!”
He shoved men away from Angelica, but Alfred Johnson, his boatswain, out maneuvered him.
Angelica turned to run, but Johnson lunged. He snagged her hair and pulled her to his side, forcing her onto her knees. She screamed and tried to untangle his fingers.
Ronan rushed Johnson, but a beast of man plowed into him, knocking him to the ground.
Johnson raised the crown over his head. “I’ve got it.”
Ronan was forced to his feet with a sword pressed into his throat.
“’Tis useless, you fool,” Palmer glowered. “Take him below. We’ll take them to Zuto as planned. But first learn you’ll learn who your master is, slave.”
“Go to hell, Palmer.”
Johnson twisted Angelica’s hair, forcing her to stand on her tip toes, and she cried out.
“Shut up, ye bastard,” he said. “Or I’ll make her watch you die.”
“Let go of her hair, Johnson, or I’ll swear—” Ronan struggled, despite the sword pricking his neck.
“Wait,” Palmer said. “Tie him to the mast.” A nasty smile spread across his hideous face. “We’ll have some fun yet. Take the wench to my cabin.”
A sword of hate pierced Ronan’s tightening gut. What Palmer did to women—the torture, the humiliation, the scars. He kicked and twisted. He wouldn’t let him do this. He scanned the horizon, desperate to see the Phoenix’s sails, knowing there was no rescue coming. “No!” Ronan yelled. “Leave her alone.”
Palmer snorted. “You’d rather her be unclothed and tempting my men?”
Tears glistened Angelica’s eyes, but she pressed her shoulders back. “He can’t break me. My soul belongs to you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Angelica’s heart shattered into a million pieces. Ronan lay slumped over and tied to the mast. She could do nothing, not in this human form. If only he’d told her about what the demon had told him, she could have helped them escape. Maybe she couldn’t do anything, but her sisters could help. Isabella had the song of love that might soften the rogues’ hearts. Angelica closed her eyes, sending out a message. If Isabella would have heard, she’d send a message through the sea breeze, but Angelica was met with stony silence.
Two men grabbed her arms, their fingers biting into her flesh, and hauled her away. Palmer strode behind them. She dug her heels into the wood, wanting to get back to Ronan, but the men yanked her hard.
Palmer slipped in front of them and opened a door, gesturing for them to go inside. Her captors shoved her inside, and she stumbled.
He waved his hand. “Now, leave.”
The men nodded and bowed. Before one of the men left, he grabbed his crotch and puckered his lips as if to kiss her. She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped away.
Palmer shut the door, and fear pooled in her gut. He was a giant of a man. One stride could practically reach her across the room. “Now, let’s have an understanding, you and I. Because of Zuto, I can’t rape you.”
“Good.”
He rushed over to her and pressed her against the wall, his hot breath assaulting her face. He grabbed her between the legs and rammed a finger inside her. “But he said after he had your blood, you’d be my prize.”
She cried out, hating herself. His finger wiggled inside her, and bile rose from her stomach. She gritted her teeth to keep from spitting into his ugly face. She couldn’t bear the thought of this vile man pulsing inside her. He pressed her arms against the wall, imprisoning her, then he lowered his red head and he suckled her breast. He bit her and sucked hard.
She screamed, squirming to get free.
“Your blood is so sweet. If you want your vampire to remain in one piece, you’ll do as I say. Or I’ll make you watch as I torture him to within an inch of his life. Do we have an accord?”
Terror seizing her, she couldn’t find words. She’d never seen anything so terrifying and wanted to swim home to her father, but Ronan had fought hard to protect her. She’d do anything to protect him, even sacrifice herself to this retched demon.
“Yes,” she choked.
He kissed her, his tongue ravishing her lips, nearly suffocating her, and a large hand pinched her nipple. He pulled away. “That’s just a taste of what I’ve planned for you. But first we have to go to teach my new slave a lesson.”
Wetness trickled down her breast. “No, you said if—”
He moved away from her.
She wiped her hand over her lips, trying to erase his foul taste. “I thought Zuto said you couldn’t touch me.”
His eyes darkened, and he stiffened. He opened up a drawer, yanked out a yellow gown, and tossed it at her. “Put this on. I can’t have you walking around teasing my men.”
Angelica hurried and put the gown, wondering about the previous owner and what had happened to her. Dead, most likely. She struggled with putting it on, feeling Palmer’s eyes feasting on her. ’Twas too small. Her breasts barely fit in the neckline, her nipples straining to get out. It hugged her waist and tightened across her back. If she wasn’t careful, she’d rip it. Who knew if Palmer had any more?
He held out his hand. “Come, my slave is waiting.”
Angelica gave him her shaking hand, and he hauled her to him and gave her another sloppy kiss. His other hand slipped into her bodice and pinched a nipple, his long fingernails scratching her. She slapped him across the face.
He released her. “For that, the slave will pay.”
Ignoring the pulsing pain, she spat. “I hope Zuto cuts out your black heart.”
His face blanched. “Shall we?”
Angelica wiped away her hated tears and allowed Palmer to escort her on deck. At the sight of Ronan tied to the mast and hanging a like a battered piece of beef, she choked back a sob. What were they going to do to him?
***
The sun beat down on Ronan, sweat rolling down his body. His overstretched arms were tied high over his head, and he faced the mast. But none of this mattered. The only thing that mattered was Angelica and what that bastard was doing to her.
Footsteps approached. He glanced over his shoulder. Palmer strolled with Angelica, his arm looped through hers. She was clothed in a yellow dress with a heart-shaped neckline lined with pearls, her breasts straining to peek out. He shuddered to think of the poor lass who’d owned the gown and hoped to God Angelica wouldn’t suffer the same fate.
Her hair was swept behind her, and tears mirrored her large eyes. He gave her a wink to try to calm her.
Johnson strolled past her and held a whip in his hand. Ronan clamped his jaw tight. Pain, gawd awful pain. Again.
Palmer waved his hand. “When you’re ready, Johnson.”
Johnson walked over to Ronan and yanked his hair. He shoved the leather whip underneath Ronan’s nose, forcing him to inhale. He gagged on the stench of gore and sweat soaking into the leather.
“Good to have you back,” Johnson said. “Ready for your first lesson?”
Ronan jerked his head and broke free of Johnson grasp. Johnson only laughed and walked behind him.
The crack of a whip sent terror into Ronan’s gut, and he gritted his teeth. The first strike lashed into his flesh, and he jolted.
Angelica released a sob. He wanted to tell her not to cry, to be brave, but at the second lash, if he said anything, it would be more of a howl.
Ronan clenched his fist and counted backward...One hundred, ninety-nine..ninety-eight... A fourth lash sliced deeper, making him lose count. Johnson beat him again.
Ronan arched his back, pulling on his restraints. Ignoring the searing pain, he struggled to breathe, but at the sixth lash, he shook, and his legs faltered.
“Stop it,” Angelica cried. “Please.”
“Again,” Palmer ordered.
Johnson thrashed again and again, and Ronan released a muffled a groan. He stood on his wobbling legs, but he crumpled, the weight of his body pulling on his arms. Agony blinded him.
“’Tis enough,” Palmer said. “Take him below. Take the woman to my chambers.”
Fear pulsed through him. “No,” Ronan hissed between his teeth. Despite his quaking legs, he tilted his chin and pushed his shoulders back. “She stays with me.”
Palmer turned his lips into a thin sneer. “Take him below. I have some sweetness to sample.”
Two men untied Ronan. Not caring if they whipped him to the bone, he rushed toward Palmer, his fist clenched, but he was as fast as a hatched turtle.
Leif grabbed him and slammed his fist into his gut, doubling him over. He fell onto his knees, gasping for breath.
“Angelica.”
“Is no longer your concern.” Leif hauled him to his feet and dragged him along the deck.
Terror bore into Ronan’s gut as Palmer wrapped his arm around Angelica. With one more surge, Ronan pulled on his arm and slammed his other fist into Leif’s jaw, but Leif gripped him tightly.
“Damn you.” He motioned for another pirate to help him.
Together, they hauled him down to the dreaded pit of the Fiery Damsel. The dampness and stench turned his stomach. Leif and the other man strapped his arms and legs to the dreaded rack, the manacles biting into his flesh. Pulsing agony swept over him. If he could drink human blood, he’d heal, but there were no humans on board this ship, and until he fed, he’d be in misery.
The bastards left. Lanterns glowed and cast eerie shadows on Palmer’s many torture devices that he knew all too well. Palmer had delighted introducing him to each painful device, including a chair with thumb screws. Empty now, it had once been where Palmer had tortured Hannah’s father, Captain Justin Knight. His pitiful screams had turned Ronan’s stomach.
At least, he wasn’t alone, selfish as that may be. Still unconscious, William dangled from the wall, his wrists high over his head. His matted hair clung to his face. He groaned. A chain with a black stone shaped like a heart hung around his neck. No light glistened off it. Foreboding sunk into Ronan’s bones. It had to be from Zuto.
“William?” His voice was harsh and low, and he barely heard his own words. He cleared his throat. “William, wake up.”
William raised his head, his stricken face ashen.
“O’Brien, can you hear me?”
“Spell,” William muttered. “Can’t change. Trapped. Hurts.”
“’Tis the stone necklace you wear around your neck?”
“Aye.”
“Zuto.”
William grumbled, but Ronan couldn’t understand him. Poor bastard. Whatever ’twas around his neck, it came with pain. Palmer never let anyone stay down here unpunished.
Angelica. What was happening to her? Was he pawing her? Palmer had said he couldn’t ravish Angelica, but there were other means of punishment. He pulled on his chains, sending pain drumming through him. Where the devil were Kane and the Phoenix?
The ship rocked back and forth. Despite the throbbing misery in his back and the gloomy chill gripping him, his eyelids grew heavy. He closed his eyes, and sleep swept over him, but he didn’t dream of Angelica...
Ronan’s pain and coldness faded. He wasn’t in the bowels of the Fiery Damsel but on a white sandy beach with the sun shining brightly, warming his clammy skin. A crab scattered sideways in front of his feet, holding up its claws, and its eyes staring unblinking at him. He stepped back, and waves washed around his bare feet. He was still naked. At first he didn’t recognize where he was, then a memory stirred. Holy hell. ’Twas Zuto’s island.
He didn’t know which was worse—the Fiery Damsel or here.
Palm trees swayed, and flowery bushes rustled. Zuto walked out of the jungle and headed toward him. “There you are, lad.”
Ronan stiffened. He was hardly a lad, hadn’t been for the past thirty years, but he decided arguing the point with a demon would be mute. He turned to run, but his feet refused to move.
He waited for the pain, for the agony.
Zuto put his hands on his hips. “You’ve fucked the wench.”
“’Tis naught of your concern.”
Zuto lifted his eyebrow. “There you are wrong—slave.”
“I’ll not allow you to harm her.”
“Do you not listen, vampire? I didn’t say I’d hurt her. I just need something of hers... She’s with child. Your child. And soon, the child will be mine.”
Ronan looked at Zuto as if for the first time, recalling every foul conversation they’d had. Never once had he said anything about a child—not any child, his child.
“Yes, dear boy, the plan was always for you to get the wench with child, your child. That’s what mingling your blood means. A baby will possess both your bloods.”
Ronan staggered, not believing what he’d just heard. His lungs seized, and he gasped for breath. His stomach swirled as he tried to digest the shock, horror, and anger churning in his gut. The demon wanted his baby. This wasn’t happening.
“I need something of yours now.” Zuto reached behind him and pulled a dagger out of loincloth. “Your blood.”
Something snapped in Ronan. He didn’t care if the wretched demon cast him into hell, but he wasn’t going to sacrifice his child. He howled and rushed the demon, shoving him into the sea. The dagger flew out of Zuto’s hand. Ronan snatched the dagger and crouched, aiming the blade at the drenched demon coming out of the sea.
Zuto’s hair stuck to his head. Sand clung to his tan body. His red eyes blazed with fury. “You fool. You actually think you can best me.” He jerked his hand.
An invisible force yanked the dagger out of Ronan’s hand, and it zinged over to Zuto. Ronan tried to move, but he was paralyzed.
Zuto walked over to him.
“Please,” Ronan said. “Not my wee babe. I’ll do anything.”
“Silence.” Zuto seized Ronan’s right arm and stabbed his wrist where his hand had been, skewering agony into his stump. Zuto squeezed blood onto the sand. Ronan yanked hard, but Zuto’s fingers turned into claws, digging into his flesh.
Zuto cupped his hand underneath, filling his palm with blood. “That shall do. For now.” He released Ronan. “Until we meet again.”
Ronan jerked awake, sweating like he’d been out in the sun for too long. Surprisingly, tears stung his eyes. Freezing air gripped him, and he shivered. He stretched his neck and looked up at his right arm. A river of blood trickled down his arm and onto his shoulder. Dizziness swept over him—the brig spun around, sending his stomach swirling. ’Twas the black magic again. ’Twas stronger. More evil. Deadlier.
How could a wee babe survive something so malicious? His heart pumping faster, he leaned his head back. What was Zuto going to do with their baby? He yanked on the chains, rattling them, but no sooner finding a way to escape. There had to be way to get out of this foul place. He’d not let Zuto take his child or Angelica. He’d die protecting them.
***
Angelica put away the last of the dishes when meaty hands seized her arms and whirled her around. She stared into the leering eyes of Alfred Johnson. He bunched up her dress and ran his disgusting hand along her naked thigh. His breath was fouler than Palmer’s and he had three missing front teeth. He’d pressed his bulge against her, forcing her thighs apart.
She pushed on his hand. “Release me!”
“No, I don’t think so, lovely. One little tryst won’t hurt. Zuto will never know.” He kissed her hard, raping her mouth with his foul tongue.
Not having any other weapon, Angelica bit down hard. She tasted blood.
He yanked his head back, crimson running down the side of hi
s chin. “Bitch! You’ll pay for—”
Choking on his blood, she cringed, waiting for pain.
Surprisingly, Alfred flew off her and slammed onto the floor. Instead of Palmer, a tall, broad-shouldered pirate glared at Alfred. “What are you doin’, ye bloody fool?”
He had a British accent, and his long black hair hung in ringlets around his face. A giant of a man, he was the same pirate who had subdued Ronan earlier. He wasn’t as tall as Palmer, but he was a menacing presence.
Her heart thundering, Angelica flattened herself against the wall. Two men? She’d never fare well against two.
Alfred clamored to his feet and grabbed his crotch. “I was just havin’ a little fun, Black.”
Black drew his sword and stood in front of Angelica. “Do you want to bring down Zuto’s wrath? The chit’s not to be touched. Or are you dumber than you look, eejit?”
“He’d never know.” He took a step toward Angelica, who was trapped with nowhere to run.
Black put his sword under Alfred’s scrawny neck. “Aye, he would. I suggest you take your lust elsewhere. Or I’ll gut you.”
Fear flickering in Alfred’s eyes, he put his hands in the air. “Fine, I’ll leave her—for now.”
“Not until Zuto says he’s done with the wench.” He lifted the tip of his sword, forcing Alfred to stand on his tippy toes. “I’ll not have another curse put on me because of a leachin’ toad, savvy?”
“Aye, I hear ye.” Alfred swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
“Leave.” Black sheathed his sword.
Alfred lowered his arms and leered at Angelica. “When Zuto’s done, girl, I’ll finish what I started.” Wiping his arm across his bloody mouth, he strolled out of the galley.
Black turned to face her, and Angelica didn’t know whether she should thank him or scream. He’d be handsome if he’d trimmed his scraggy beard. He had angled features. His eyes were haunting, greener than the prettiest sea. “I’m Leif Black. Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“You’re lucky. Most whores do not fare well after he’s through with him.”