by ML Guida
“How can you be so sure this? You’ve not even given the man a chance.”
“You might as well know the truth. Pirates killed my mother. He went mad after my mother died. She was the love of his life. How do you think he’ll react when he discovers not only that his first grandchild is half human but the baby’s father is a pirate?”
Cold fear squeezed his heart. “He’ll not hurt you or the babe, will he?”
“If you’ll excuse me…”
He jumped out of the bed. “Where are you goin’?”
“To get some fresh air.”
“Why?”
“I need time to think.”
“Wait.” He seized his trousers. “I’ll go with you.”
“I don’t want you to come with me. Because if I’m with a child, I want to decide what I’m going to do. Not you.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Angelica, I didna…”
She finished tying up her gown and pulled her hair up into a loose bun. She opened and slammed the door shut.
“Damn it.” He stumbled out of the cabin shirtless and slid his sword in the sheath and his pistol in his belt.
Ewan greeted him in the corridor. “About time ye done came out of that cabin. Capt’n’s been out of sorts.”
“Grand,” Ronan mumbled. “D’ye see Angelica?”
He tilted his head. “She’s done headed for Mariah’s cabin.”
“Sails on the horizon,” someone called from above. “’Tis the Fiery Damsel.”
“Bloody hell,” Ronan grumbled. He raced up the stairs two at a time with Evan trailing behind him. Was he ready to have a babe raised on this ship? He was a vampire for heaven’s sake. At war with a demon and blood-thirsty vampires.
He didna want a babe raised on this ship. He wanted to have a parcel of land where he could raise horses like his pa had back in Ireland before the damn Irish Confederate War. A place he could protect, where there were no demons or vampires, where he and Angelica could grow a family together. Shite!
He took the stairs two at time with Ewan trailing behind him.
He ran over to Kane, who had his spyglass aimed on the approaching ship that was coming along the port side.
“The wind’s behind her, and she’s coming at a faster speed than is expected for a carrack,” he said to Sean Mallory. “Ewan?”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Roll out the guns.”
“Aye, capt’n.” He ran down the gangway, bellowing orders. “Men get to the guns, you scurvy bastards.”
Gunners flung open the ports, flattened out the wedges that blocked the wheels of the gun carriages, and hoisted on breaching tackle. Men pushed out the sixteen twenty-four-pounder demi-culverins out on the main deck. Below the twelve gun ports opened and all cannons were aimed at the Fiery Damsel’s hull. Ewan ran along the deck, rechecking the readiness of the guns and handing out glowing linstocks.
“Starboard ready!”
“Port side ready!”
Ewan lowered his arm. “Fire at will!”
Demi-culverins recoiled and thundered on the main deck and below, sending shot at the Fiery Damsel as she drew closer, but the heavy lead balls crashed into the sea, spraying water onto the passing ship or sailed over her.
“What the devil?” Kane growled.
Ronan ran as fast as he could, shoving startled crewmen out of his way. “Capt’n!” Breathing hard, he skidded to halt.
“Finally done with my cabin, Macmillan? Nice of you to join us for battle.” Kane lowered the spyglass, then raised it as if dismissing him.
Ronan cringed from the smart remark, knowing he’d disappointed his captain, but he had to make him listen. “Capt’n, they’re comin’, comin’ for Angelica.”
“How do you know? You’ve been in my cabin this whole time.” Kane’s tone could not be more patronizing, and he looked at Ronan as if he were some cockeyed greenhorn lad.
“Zuto came to me last night. He demanded I hand her over.” He gestured at the Fiery Damsel. “And he’s sent those bastards to take her.”
Kane shoved the spyglass into his belt. “Then—”
Ronan grabbed Kane’s arms and dug his fingers into his stubborn flesh, desperate for him to stop Palmer. “He said she’s with child. My child. We canna let him take her. He’ll hurt the babe.”
Kane broke free. “Calm down, man. Zuto wants you to lose your head. You need to keep your wits.”
Ronan quickly released him. “I’m sorry, capt’n.” He hung his head, stunned he’d shaken Kane. When it came to Angelica, all sense of the mighty pirate he’d become vanished.
The Damsel fired, followed by clouds of smoke swirling around the muzzles, masking the cool sea air with the stench of sulfur and cordite. Cannons screeched through the air and smashed on to the main deck and blew holes through the topsail, shaking the mast. Orange and red flames rose into the blue sky, and men screamed as they were blown off the deck and fell into the sea.
Ewan ordered, “Ready the guns!”
Men swabbed the barrels with sponges and water while others stood waiting with charges of powder and ladles. Usually, the crew had expert timing, but they seemed to be going in slow motion. Tingles of fear ran down the back of Ronan’s neck. ’Twas a black spell.
William transformed into a dragon and flew toward the Fiery Damsel. More cannons fired, and three cannons balls sailed at William and exploded. Through the smoke, a net covered him, and he shrieked, crashing to the sea. The dragon bobbed up and down in the ocean and changed into William, the nets weighing him underwater.
“Zuto, you bastard!” Kane yelled. “Lower the long boat and fetch my brother.”
Hannah ran to the edge of the railing and faced her palms toward William who struggled to not sink back into the waves.
Kane hurried toward her. “Hannah, get below deck!”
“I can help, you stubborn arse!”
Unconscious, William rose out of the water, the net still tangled in a black web. Hannah twisted her waist, moving her palms, and lowered him on to the Phoenix’s burning cloudy deck. Men rushed with buckets of water, trying to put out the fires.
The Fiery Damsel sailed alongside the Phoenix. Men held grappling hooks in their hands and jeered while others wielded pistols and swords.
Fear pooled in Ronan’s gut, and he grabbed a mooring line. “Prepare to be boarded.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Angelica leaned against the wall in the crew’s quarters. Unfortunately, Mariah’s makeshift cabin was empty and the little witch wasn’t here. Right now, she could use a friend. She missed her sisters so much—Isabella’s comforting, controlling nature and Penelope’s childlike laugh—but they weren’t here. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her tears. She stared at the doorway, wishing that Ronan would burst through and apologize, saying he wouldn’t send her to her father. Father blamed Isabella for their mother’s death and rejected her. Angelica was too afraid to think about what he’d do to her. She’d always been his favorite. She’d be lucky if he only banished her.
The ship rocked, and the hammocks swayed. A cannon blast shook her. She maneuvered through the swinging hammocks, and at another blast, fell into the door jamb. Men bellowed up on deck, but she couldn’t make out the words.
“Ronan!” she called.
Thunder blocked out her voice. Her heart pounded, and fear shook her. Closing her eyes, she put her hand over her tummy to see if she felt a baby move, but all she felt was the blood rushing through her. Maybe she should leave. Go find her sisters. Forget about the Soaring Phoenix, Zuto, Ronan.
Ignoring the emptiness swelling inside her, she ran down the corridor. She needed to swim in the clean and free ocean.
Up on deck, men raced around each other, swords drawn. Black smoke plumed around the deck. Another boom sent splinters of fiery wood and burning sails crashing in front of her. The smell of ash and sulfur permeated the air, and Angelica covered her mouth, choking. She stepped out on to the deck, her eyes stinging.
A monumental, ear-splitting thunder knocked her backward, and she screamed. She fell onto her back and slid down the hard stairs. Dazed, she lay at the bottom of the stairs, gasping for breath. Pain gripped her, and she rolled onto her side, crawling to a sitting position.
Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs. Doc knelt next to her. “Lassie, are you hurt? I saw you done fall down da stairs.”
“I’m well, thank you. What’s happening? Is the Fiery Damsel pursuing us?”
“Aye, there’s somepun different about her. An evil wind pushes her faster, an’ her guns are hitting us while ours miss her. Mariah says ’tis black magic.”
She swallowed. Zuto. They were coming, coming for her.
“Can you stand?”
She nodded, trying to catch her breath, her legs wobbly.
“You’re trembling. You should stay down below.”
She shook her head. “No!” Not down below with Palmer. What if black magic set him free? She clutched his arm tight. “Ronan?”
“He’d want you safe here, lass.”
“Doc,” she found her voice. “I can’t stay below here. Please take me to him. I need to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye? Where da hell d’ye think you’re goin’, lass?”
“The sea. If I leave, I’ll draw the ship away.”
“Are ye daft?”
“No, please. Take me to him, or I’ll try and find him myself.”
He shook his head but clasped his arm around her waist, helping her up the stairs.
“She’s coming along the port side, Capt’n,” Sean Mallory yelled.
Through the choking smoke, Doc led her onto the main deck. Men wielded swords high over their heads and aimed pistols. Angelica gripped Doc’s arm. Grappling hooks flew through the air and snared the Phoenix’s railing, pulling her to their side.
“Get below.” Doc shoved her. “Now.” He whipped out his pistol and sword and joined the crew waiting to engage in a deadly battle with their foe.
Angelica’s eyes watered, and she coughed. Chills of dread raced over her, and she hugged her arms around her waist. Through the dark clouds covering the sun, a pair of red eyes formed, peering down at them. Lightning flashed, nearly hitting the Phoenix’s main sail.
Sean pointed. “’Tis Zuto,”
Terror seized her. She should rush and hide below in Kane’s cabin, locking the door, but Palmer was down there. What if his crew freed him and he found her? She trembled, her bravery fleeing. She didn’t know how to use a pistol or a sword like Hannah or possess magical powers like Mariah. She was not totally powerless. She rushed down the gangway, dodging men, heading for the bow. Maybe if she dove into the water, she could draw their enemies away.
“There she is!”
Angelica turned to her side. The crew of the Fiery Damsel ran along the deck, parallel to her.
Alfred ran to the railing and pointed. “Look! Grab her!”
Leif Black swung over on a mooring line with his cutlass. He landed in front of her. He cast her a demonic smile. “Someone wants a word with you, lass.” He stretched out his hand. “Come with me now.”
He’d saved her on the ship, and he now planned to hand her over to the demon, striking terror in her heart. “Stay away from me!”
“Get behind me, Angelica.” Ewan blocked Black’s approach and drew his sword. He lunged to block Black’s thrust, deflecting it with a powerful clash. “Run, lass. Find Ronan!”
The steel snapped at the hilt, but Black had a dagger in his other hand, and lightning fast, he plunged the weapon into Ewan’s shoulder, hilt-deep. Black jerked it out, then raised it high over his head. “Give it up, Ewan. Hand over the lass.”
Ewan clutched his shoulder and crowded Angelica behind him. “Never.”
Fear shook her all the way to her toes. She wanted to help Ewan and scanned the deck for a weapon, but there was nothing. They were both trapped.
Black flung the dagger, but ’twas foiled as a thin slash of steel came out of the smoke and hit Black’s dagger. It spun across the deck into the foray of men.
Ronan came out of smoke, a sword in his left hand.
Her joy quickly died as her worst nightmare thundered toward her—Palmer.
He tossed men out of his way. “Come back here, lassie. Someone wants a word with you.”
She was trapped between Black and Palmer, but she wasn’t going to give up without a fight. Black rushed toward her, his arms stretched out, but Ewan plowed into the brute, knocking him onto the deck, giving Angelica a chance to escape. Not hesitating, she grabbed her skirts and hiked them over her knees and bolted behind Ronan.
Ronan braced his feet and pointed his sword. “Get away from her, you bastard!”
Men jumped off the Fiery Damsel and swung on lines onto the deck. Some grabbed for her, but the crew of the Soaring Phoenix wouldn’t be denied. Swords clashed. Pistols fired.
Palmer faced Ronan. “You bloody codfish, out of my way.”
Angelica reached the bow, ready to dive into the water, calling to Isabella for help. She glanced over her shoulder one more time, and froze. Palmer had a cutlass in his hand, and he and Ronan engaged in a battle of swords. Palmer loomed over Ronan, a towering bulging muscle of terror, with his red matted hair sticking out around him. He sneered, revealing a mouth full of pointy, jagged teeth. Blood dripped down his chin and stained his torn clothes. He was a blood-thirsty demon out of hell and dwarfed Ronan by several inches. Palmer grinned and licked his ugly, thin lips. “I’ll have the bitch back in my cabin, flat on her back, where she belongs, Macmillan.”
He was baiting him, trying to get Ronan to make a deadly mistake. She wished Kane or another crewman would help, but they fought their own battles, trying to survive. Palmer lunged and struck Ronan’s sword, harder and harder, forcing him to be on the defensive. Ronan managed to hold off each powerful blow, deflecting every strike that would have sent a lesser man begging for surrender. Palmer swung his cutlass broader and wider, each time getting closer and closer to slicing through Ronan’s neck.
A pistol skidded across the deck toward the bow. Angelica had no idea whether it was loaded or fired. Palmer dodged Ronan’s swipe and swung, this time cutting through Ronan’s thigh. Blood seeped down Ronan’s trousers, and he collapsed onto his knee. Palmer raised his cutlass.
“No!” Angelica screamed. She seized the pistol and fired. Her arm jerked up and smoke twirled around the muzzle.
Palmer cried out and slammed the cutlass into two inches of the solid oak mast. Ronan grinned and lunged, but the sword flew out of his hand. “Bloody hell.”
Lightning flashed again. Palmer gazed up at the sky, and his face paled. He charged toward Angelica. She dropped the smoking pistol and ran to the bow, put her arms over her head and swan dived into the ocean, but rather than being able to swim deeper into the sea, she swallowed water and gasped for breath. Her gown weighed her down, pulling her below the flopping waves, and her arms and legs flailed around her. Water burned her lungs, and she couldn’t swim. What was happening? She was an undine, for God’s sake, and should be able to breathe underwater as easily as she could air, but something was terribly wrong.
Salt water stung her eyes, and she couldn’t see. Dizziness swept over her, and she closed her eyes. She tried to claw her way to through the water, but she sank deeper and deeper into the water depths. Oh, God! She wasn’t an undine anymore. She was pregnant and human. A human who couldn’t swim. She was drowning.
***
Palmer dove into the ocean after Angelica, disappearing under the water. Ronan’s heart thundered. Angelica was drowning. He couldna swim. Damn it!
Palmer’s red head appeared, his hair spreading around like an octopus, and he had an arm draped around an unconscious Angelica. He swam toward the Damsel and his men threw down a line to him. He wrapped the rope around Angelica’s waist, and the men hauled her onto the ship. Her arms and legs hung down, long wet blond hair hid her face.
The crew of the Fiery Damsel sw
ung back onto the ship and a man ran along, severing the grappling hooks. The ship pulled away. Fire burned on the Soaring Phoenix. Her sails were torn, and water spewed into the hull. She needed time to make repairs, time he didn’t have.
A woman screamed. Hannah O’Brien was slumped over a brute of a pirate’s shoulder. The man leapt back aboard the Damsel.
Kane held his sword and barreled his way between fighting men, ducking swords. “Hannah!”
The man vanished between the clashing swords, smoke, and panic on Palmer’s ship.
A man blocked Kane’s way, and Kane shot him, shoving him aside, and ran across a boarding plank onto the Fiery Damsel.
Ronan made a split decision—he climbed the mast to the crow’s nest, grabbed a buntline, and swung over onto the Fiery Damsel. His hand slipped, the rope cutting into his palm. He skidded down the rope and, ignoring the pain, grabbed the Damsel’s mainmast halyard and held on tight.
He hoped the smoke hid him from the running pirates below. He swung his foot up onto the mizzen topsail and hung onto the beam. Angelica lay on the deck, not moving. He didn’t know if the lass was alive or not, and fear swelled in his lungs. The Damsel sailed further and further away from the slumping and burning Phoenix. The flaming fires burned higher and brighter. Not yet realizing that their captain was aboard the Damsel, Kane’s crew fought hard to contain the flames, trying to keep her from burning into the sea. His face gray, William lay slumped against the bulkhead with Mariah holding his hand. Ewan raced up and down the gangway barking orders while Sean was at the wheel, trying to steer the crippled frigate.
Men pulled a sopping wet Palmer onto the deck. Rather than thanking his men, he knocked them to the ground and loomed over Angelica. Ronan wanted to pull out his pistol, but with only one hand, he’d lose his balance and crash below.
“Take her to my cabin,” he ordered. “Set a course for Zuto’s island.”
“Captain, Captain!” Two men held Kane’s arms while a third had a sword pressed up against Kane’s throat. “It appears we’ve a stowaway.”
Palmer laughed. “O’Brien. I’ve always wanted you as a guest on my ship. Take him to the brig.”