A Pirate's Obsession (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix Book 4)

by ML Guida

  “Ronan is important to me.” How important, she couldn’t say or too scared to admit. Ronan had defended her every time she was threatened, something Ty had never done. He only cared about himself. Her feelings were all jumbled into a tangled ball of seaweed. Ronan was a pirate, and pirates had killed her mother. She should loathe him. Isabella would, but she wasn’t Isabella. She cared enough about Ronan to sacrifice herself to protect him. Tears blurred her eyes.

  Hannah hugged her tight, and Angelica held her, trying to keep from crying again.

  Mariah caressed Angelica’s back. “Come on,” she said, her voice faltering. “Let’s get you into that tub.”

  Hannah released her. “Yes, before ’tis too cold.” She and Mariah helped rip the hated dress off.

  Angelica seized the gown and shredded it into strips, buttons flying off and lace falling at her feet. “I hate yellow.” Another split, and she tore it in two. “I hate this dress. Hate it.” She threw it across the room. “Burn it.”

  “Mon pauvre chou.” Mariah threaded her fingers through Angelica’s hair and caressed her back. “Ready to get in?”

  Angelica nodded. Her fingers were numb, and her arms tired.

  “When we reach land, I promise we will burn the dress.” Hannah wrapped her arm around Angelica’s shaking shoulders. “I promise.”

  “S’il te plaît, let’s get you into the tub, oui?” Mariah rubbed her shaking arm.

  “I thought the ocean would wash away Palmer’s stench, but I can still smell him.” Angelica tried to laugh but only managed a slight gasp. She was an empty shell. Palmer had stolen so much more from her than the use of her body.

  “Bien sûr pas,” Mariah said. “You’re so tense and hurt. The lavender will soothe your aching muscles.”

  Angelica nodded and rested her head on Hannah’s shoulder. She was much shorter than Angelica but strong, and now, they had a bond—one intertwined with nightmares and love.

  The women helped Angelica into the tub. Mariah retrieved the other vial from the desk. “This is an elixir I made. It’ll help cleanse and purify you. You’ll drink it, oui?”

  Angelica stared at the swirling purple potion inside the small glass. “What’s in it?”

  “Some magical charged stones and herbs. They will help strengthen your own power. S’il vous plaît. Trust me.”

  “You can see his energy on me?”

  “No, the water is erasing his aura.”

  “Good.” Angelica bit her lip. “Promise me you won’t tell Ronan about what Palmer and his men did.”

  Mariah wiped a tear falling down Angelica’s cheek. “Why don’t you want him to know?”

  “He’ll blame himself. There was no choice. He couldn’t stop the men from hurting me. He was in constant chains. It could have been worse, much worse. Promise?”

  “We promise we will not tell Ronan,” Hannah said. “Would you like me to wash your hair?”

  Warmth spread over Angelica at the attention these two women gave her. She smiled. “Yes, thank you.”

  Hannah washed her hair, and Mariah gently lathered her back. Angelica’s tense muscles unwound, and she could sleep for a thousand years.

  “We’ll give you time to soak.” Hannah combed out Angelica’s hair with her fingers. “You need something for those injuries. I’ll get some of Doc’s salve.”

  Angelica leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and put her arms on the edge of the tub. She sank lower in the tub, refusing to look at the deep purple and blue bruises on her flesh. The water warmed her body, and she thought of her sisters, frolicking with the sea creatures, lying on the sand, where only beauty existed. Where she didn’t know pain. Didn’t know hate. Didn’t know fear.

  When she was sad, ever since her mother had died, Isabella had been there. She’d sing her sweet melody and cheer her up, then hug her. Her sadness would melt away. But Isabella wasn’t here. She’d warned her about humans and how they’d bring only misery and pain.

  Angelica rubbed her temples, thinking of that terrible day when her mother died. How her father went mad, blaming Isabella, and tearing their family apart forever. If she chose to be with Ronan, she’d not only lose Isabella, but her father as well.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Water filled Ronan’s lungs. He treaded his arms and kicked his way to the surface as fast as he could. Where was Angelica? How’d he get back into the sea? His efforts failed. He sank lower and lower. Dizziness swam in his head. Darkness consumed him.

  Suddenly, he woke. Waves washed over him, pulling the sand in between his hands and toes. His hair hung in his eyes like wet seaweed. He shook his head. He lay on a pristine beach with the full moon high in the sky. A raging thirst consumed him. He dug his fingers into the sand. “Angelica, run.”

  A long shadow covered him, and Ronan shivered.

  “She’s not here.”

  Shite. Zuto.

  He was dreaming again and back on Zuto’s cursed island. He scrambled to stand, but he wasn’t quick enough. Zuto grabbed his hair and hauled him to his feet. He released him too quickly, and Ronan staggered.

  He glared. “Why do you keep hauntin’ my dreams?”

  “Because I can.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I need you to turn into a vampire and drink from the undine.”

  Ronan glared, refusing to cower beneath Zuto’s dominating stare. “Why?”

  A cruel smile spread across Zuto’s face. “You’ve already gotten her with child and I need to see whether it’s a male or female.”

  This couldn’t be happening. He was a pirate and was determined not to have children and put their lives at risk, not with Palmer and his maggot crew wanting his hide. “How do you know this? We were only together once.”

  “I’m a demon, remember. I have my ways.”

  Ronan narrowed his eyes. “What difference does the babe’s sex make?”

  “Because I need a female for the spell.”

  Ronan hesitated, “What happens if the babe is not a lass?”

  “Then you’ll have to start again.”

  Ronan’s heart twisted. “What do you mean?”

  The demon opened up his palm and revealed a small red stone. “This has been coated with Belladonna root. Put this in her tea, and she’ll miscarry, then you can try again.”

  Anger quickened through Ronan, and he knocked Zuto’s hand aside, sending the stone flying into the rolling waves. “You’re a bloody monster. You’ll not hurt Angelica or my son.”

  The demon laughed. “Ah, but you will, if you don’t want to remain a cripple. D’ye forget? The full moon is in three days. This is just a taste of what you’ll feel, if you do not deliver her to me by that time. I’ll send a terrible thirst to you. Your mind will be ravaged, the thirst unbearable, and a hunger worse than any you’ve ever endured will consume you. No one will be able to stop you. And your first kill will be Hannah O’Brien.”

  Terror burned in Ronan’s gut. He’d not let that bastard hurt a wee innocent babe. His hand wasn’t worth it. He met the demon’s arrogant stare. “Go to hell.”

  Zuto shrugged. “The choice is yours, Macmillan. Bring me what I want, or be prepared to kill those who you love.”

  Ronan clenched his fist and slammed it into Zuto’s smug face. This time he didn’t miss.

  Zuto didn’t even flinch. His red eyes grew darker. “Not wise, vampire. Not wise at all.”

  He backhanded Ronan. Ronan flew several feet across the beach and landed on his back, the breath knocked out of him. The demon raised his hand. Sand, pebbles, and rock swirled into a whirling tornado, then the demon hurled it toward Ronan.

  The loud whine hurt his ears. Ronan rolled onto his side and wobbled to his feet. He hobbled down the beach. His hair blew around, strands slipping into his mouth. The roar grew louder, and he glanced over his shoulder. The whirlwind rushed over him, lifting him off the ground and twirling him around and around and around. Sand buried into his eyes, blinding him. It shot up his nose
and rushed down his mouth, gagging and whipped his body, tearing away flesh. He flailed in the air, trying to find anything solid to grab, but only air slipped through his fingers.

  He wanted to scream and beg Zuto to stop. The demon wanted to hear him beg for mercy, to declare to be his obedient slave, but he clamped his jaw shut. He’d fight the demon to his last dying breath. He’d protect Angelica, even if it meant pushing her out of his life. She should return to the sea where she’d be safe.

  The wind stopped wailing. He crashed onto the hard beach. He coughed up sand and vomited.

  “Zuto.” A female voice demanded.

  Hell, Ronan knew that voice. Could this nightmare get any worse?. Natasa, another demon, sauntered out of the jungle, her red eyes glowing in the night. When she walked, her tight-fitting red gown glittered.

  Ronan forced himself to sit up.

  She pointed at him. “What is that thing doing on our island?”

  “’Tis not our land. ’Tis my island. Leave, Natasa,” Zuto ordered. “You’re supposed to be back with the witch.”

  “He’s not going anywhere in Salem. Locked up in a witch’s cell right now, waiting to be hanged. However, you’re not supposed to leave the island. Maketabori’s orders.”

  Ronan ignored his curling stomach. Lark? Where the hell was Salem?

  “Hush!” Zuto nodded over at Ronan.

  “Why? The helpless wretch can’t do anything to help his friend. Lark deserves what’s going to happen to him.” She squeezed Zuto’s cheeks. “You disobeyed Maketabori and left the island.”

  Zuto stretched his arms out wide. “Do I look like I’ve left this cursed island?”

  “You’re not even supposed to leave, even in dreams—slave. Our master will be disappointed.”

  Zuto jerked away from her fingers, red scratch marks on his cheeks. “Then tell him, bitch.”

  “Ah, you sound braver than you are. You’ll have to pay for your sin to keep my silence.”

  Fear reflected in Zuto’s eyes and then vanished. Had Ronan really seen that? Was Zuto actually afraid of Natasa?

  Natasa flicked her long red hair behind her shoulder. “Now, get rid of your pet. Or I call our master. ’Tis your choice. You can either pay for your flagrant disobedience with me or with him. Either way, you’ll be punished.”

  Zuto grumbled under his breath, but Ronan couldn’t hear him. Natasa laughed, walking back into the jungle.

  “I swear you’ll do as I say, Macmillan.” Zuto clutched Ronan’s hair, yanking his head back. “Or you’ll live to regret it.”

  The demon snapped his fingers. Ronan’s vision blurred. He spun around and around again. Warmth dissipated, dampness washing over him. Wetness chilled him. Salt stung the scratches and lashes on his flesh. He arched his back, falling through a dark hole, screaming.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Zuto paced back and forth on the beach. How dare Macmillan defy him? What if this plan failed? The sun peeked over the horizon, sending Natasa back to Salem. He wanted her to remain there permanently.

  His stomach revolted, and he shuddered. All night he’d had to please the wretched woman to keep her from telling Maketabori his disobedience. She’d return tonight, demanding he worship her. Each time he had to kiss her, endure her touch, thrust his cock inside her, he blamed Ronan Macmillan.

  The blasted man had too much honor in him. Zuto needed someone who lacked scruples, but he couldn’t think of anyone aboard the Soaring Phoenix. He stopped. Maybe that was his problem. This whole time he’d been trying to change honorable men aboard the Phoenix. What a fool he’d been!

  He curved his lips into a smile. He had a crew of lecherous men on board the Fiery Damsel. Anyone of them would gladly do his bidding, but that wasn’t good enough. He needed someone who not only feared him, but someone who was vulnerable. Palmer was the farthest thing from being vulnerable.

  Zuto took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He knew every one of the crew, but he had never delved deep into their souls. He’d only wanted to make sure they obeyed without question. This had been a mistake.

  Drawing on his demonic powers, he formed an image of each crew member in his head, then probed their soul. The man would stop what he was doing as if in a trance as Zuto peeled back the layers of his soul. Man after man had no real vulnerabilities for Zuto to exploit. Being slow-witted, greedy, and poor weren’t enough. He kicked sand repeatedly as frustration squeezed his heart tight. Damn it! Wasn’t there anyone on the damn ship with a secret he’d be desperate to protect?

  He’d gone through half the crew, thinking his perfect plan had just blown up until Leif Black’s face formed in his mind.

  Leif was just as cutthroat as any man on board, but he had a secret, actually two—two younger sisters. Unlike the rest of the crew, Leif had been forced to become one of the crew, but with the lure of riches, he couldn’t afford to try and escape. He sent money to his sisters, keeping them from living on the streets of London.

  This was too good to be true. The silly girls had wanted to be closer to their brother and had sailed to the Caribbean six months ago. They were living in a quaint cottage on the isle of Tortuga. His heart leaping, Zuto laughed.

  He opened his eyes. Mating with an undine wasn’t going to be good enough. Leif needed to be more powerful. He curled his lips into a smile. Selkie’s blood was potent, but in case it didn’t work, he needed another creature. He smirked. What was more powerful than dragon’s blood? Absolutely, nothing. With an undine’s blood and a dragon’s blood, Natasa would never find a way to slip through the time traveler spider’s web again.

  He rubbed his palms together. Time to summon another one of Drakon’s relatives. If Leif failed to do what he’d asked, he’d wish his sisters had never been born.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ronan woke to the smell of dampness and salt. Bandages were wrapped neatly around his waist. Fogginess swirled in his brain. He put his hand on his forehead and swayed back and forth on a hammock.

  “How are you feeling?”

  He put his hand down. “Capt’n?”

  “Aye. Welcome back, Macmillan.” Kane stepped out of the shadows and smiled down at him.

  He didn’t want to tell Kane about the dream, that Hannah was in danger, or that Angelica was already pregnant. What if she carried his son? Or was Zuto playing games with his mind? He couldn’t discuss it. Not yet, not until he knew the truth. “How did I get here? The last I remembered was—drownin’.”

  “You were. But thanks to Angelica ye made it aboard.”

  “She’s well.”

  “Aye.”

  “And the Damsel?”

  Kane’s eyes darkened. “Gone.”

  “Where d’ye think she’s headed?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I suspect she’s headed to Zuto’s island or some other cove to make repairs.”

  “Why didna you finish her off?”

  He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

  “Mariah has a plan.”

  Ronan rubbed the crease between his eyes. “The witch?”

  “Aye, as soon as my wee brother is stronger she wants him to bring Palmer aboard the Phoenix.”

  Ronan slammed his arm down. “What the bloody hell for?”

  “She thinks she can get Palmer to tell us where Lark is.”

  “Not bloody likely. William could be captured again. I had a dream again.”

  Kane raised his eyebrow. “Zuto?”

  “Aye, the bastard. He and the demon bitch were arguing, and they mentioned Lark.”

  “And?” Eagerness dripped from Kane’s voice.

  “Lark is in Salem.”

  Confusion flickered in Kane’s eyes. “Salem, England?”

  “I donna know.”

  “Why would they banish him to England?”

  “I’m afraid he’s being held in a witch’s cell, waiting to be hung.”

  Kane shook his head. “Bloody hell.”

  Ronan studied Kane. The man w
as hiding something. He’d never come down here to check on the wounded, not after a battle. He’d be checking the ship, reviewing what went wrong, devising new plans to fight again. Doc would be tending the wounded, not the capt’n. This wasn’t normal. Ghostly chills ran down Ronan’s back, and the hair on the back of his neck stood straight. “Capt’n, why are you down here and not up on deck?”

  Kane crossed his arms over his chest and held his stare. “’Tis Angelica.” His voice was heavy.

  Dread froze Ronan’s bones. “I thought you said she was well.”

  “She’s safe now.”

  “What the devil are ye tryin’ to say?”

  “Palmer apparently held her captive in his cabin.”

  “I was there, remember?” He avoided Kane’s stern look. The captain would have found a way to escape, but he wasn’t crippled. “What did the bastard do to her?” Ronan slid his legs off the hammock and stumbled.

  “Calm down.” Kane clasped his arm. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to see her. Now.”

  “She’s sleeping.”

  Ronan put his hand on the stud to steady himself. “Donna play games with me, Capt’n. Did Palmer rape her?”

  Unnerving guilt slammed into his heart at what she must have endured while he was chained.

  “No, but he plans to ravish the poor lass after Zuto’s done with her.”

  Ronan howled with rage. Anger boiling in his blood, he clenched and closed his fist. He wanted to gut Palmer and rip out his insides and feed him to the bloody sharks. He edged around Kane

  The capt’n grabbed him. “You can’t go to her like this.”

  Ronan sucked air in out. “Get...Out...Of. My. Way. Capt’n.”

  Kane tightened his grip. “You’ll terrify her.”

  “I’ll na scare her. I need to see her. I shoulda have fought harder.”

  Kane sighed, releasing his arm. “I felt the same way when D’Aubigne hurt Hannah. Nothing’s worse than seeing the one you love tortured—”