by Justin Sloan
He’d taken no more than three paces in when Felix stepped into his path, arms wide, and said, “Speak of the devil?”
“Me?” Diego asked with a chuckle. “We were literally just talking about you.”
“All good, I hope?” the man said with an oversized shrug.
“Mostly that you’re the size of a mountain.”
Felix laughed. “Show me a mountain that’s my equal, and I’ll say you’re lying.”
Diego nodded to the coffee and Felix walked over with him. “What’s this I hear about some of the Weres being untrustworthy?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Felix said. “If it’s true, it ain’t my people we gotta worry about.”
“You golden boys are all under control?” Diego asked.
“Golden boys?” He raised an eyebrow. “Creative, I guess… but yeah, we’re good. It’s always been the girls I worried about. Harder for me to manipulate, you know.”
“How about Esmerelda and Presley hanging around Mr. Boss-man?”
“Wait, what?”
Diego cocked his head. “You don’t know?”
“I’ve been so busy training I haven’t had time to notice things like that.”
Diego poured his coffee. He wished there was something to use to make it not so bitter aside from sugar, but the best they’d been able to import from across the ocean was the coffee and some vanilla, and he wasn’t a fan of changing up the natural taste. The first sip made him cringe, but the second was a thing of beauty.
He turned back to Felix and noted the look of worry in the big man’s eyes. “That bad?”
“I don’t know those two so well, but, I mean, they were both up there in the main leadership rings, and by that, we can assume they aren’t as pure as one would hope.”
“And maybe they’re trying to reinstate themselves?”
Felix sucked in air from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s be clear that I’m not saying we assume that of women trying to get power.”
“Shut the fuck up, Felix,” Diego said with a laugh. “Nobody is saying that. We’re talking about these two specific Weres. Is this something I need to watch out for?”
Felix shrugged. “Might be. That’s all I can give ya.”
Diego nodded, considering this.
“Come on.” Felix nodded to the side area. “We got a few minutes to kill before heading out, right? Hit up the table hockey?”
“The what?”
“We put up this table and got two pucks. Some old dude used to go on about it in the Golden City, said it was this old game people would play. Figured we could use it here to ease the tension between missions. I’ll go easy on you.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” Diego said. “I’m a quick learner.”
They had a good game and Diego, though indeed a quick learner, had no shot at all at winning. Not that it mattered once they were on the road, weapons strapped over their shoulders, with Diego glancing back at the building where Sandra slept.
He had to be careful on this one—it was the first time he was heading off to a fight knowing that, if he never came back, he would leave behind a woman and their baby.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Isle of the Prince, Hotel
The Pirate Prince stared out at the revelry in his old hotel courtyard, men and women in each other’s arms, two nude in a corner where they must’ve thought no one could see. Or maybe they knew he could see, and were giving him a private show.
He laughed, raising a glass of homemade rum, the only kind available these days, and took a swig. Those in the room behind him followed suit, he knew, but continued to watch the two below. Damn, that was hot. He’d have to find himself one of the newer pirate wenches for himself, but only after a couple more drinks of this horrible rum.
It burned in his throat, but gave him the strength needed to act the part he’d taken on for himself. Leader of the pirates… their prince, the Prince, as it were. He’d taken the name from what a local had said the island was called, Prince something or other island. He didn’t really care about the history of it all, but thought it sounded cool.
A man who had lost his family to the whackos who roamed the night, he swore to never let anyone close again, and decided he would be surrounded by power at all times. If anyone was killing from now on, it was him and his.
He took another swig, shuddered as the vile liquid soaked into his innards and warmed his bones, and looked out at his small pirate army. Past the fucking, a team of them were tossing about some outsider they had found wandering too close to the island. They had likely dragged him back through the waters and, since he had somehow survived, taken to playing games with him. Games that involved dodging bullets and the pointy ends of their swords.
If the newcomer survived long enough and proved himself, he might even be invited to join the pirate ranks. To refuse meant death, to accept meant a lifetime of glory and riches.
It was like that here, with the groups he kept closest. Whatever the hell they wanted to do, he allowed, as long as they did it in his name. He would maintain order through terror.
There were groups among the pirates who lived normal lives, sure. He allowed it, in part because he believed some semblance of civilization gave what they were doing legitimacy, but also because he would look at those innocent eyes and see those of his son, before the whackos had ended his joy forever.
A glance into his cup told him it was empty, and he smiled.
When he turned, a room full of men and women paused their drinking and groping to await his orders.
“The fuck’s everyone so gloomy about?” he asked. “Did I say to stop enjoying yourselves?”
Nervous glances told him they were too cowardly to make assumptions, so he pulled out a pistol, shot a hole in the ceiling, and said, “Get back to partying, you group of melon-sucking rat shits.”
He didn’t care if the insult didn’t make sense, he figured it sounded pirate enough. Besides, the rum was making his head swim, and he was feeling good. He motioned to the nearest pirate woman, one named Jessabel, if he remembered correctly, and she practically leaped off of ol’ Kedrick’s lap.
“Prince?” she asked, eyes hopeful.
“You’ll do,” he said, and started walking to his chambers—an old converted suite in the hotel.
Gun shots went off outside, followed by hooting and hollering, and he smiled to himself. He fucking loved this little oasis of debauchery he’d created here. It was almost enough to make him forget the pain.
Almost.
He glanced back at the woman’s large breasts, already exposed as she dropped her dress to the floor before the door was even closed. She turned to close the door, revealing the backside he now vaguely remembered slapping while going at her once or twice in the past, or, hell, who knows—maybe it’d been a few dozen times.
His eyes were rolling as she started to undo the lace that held up his britches, and he ran a hand through her wavy brown hair, preparing to pull her head in. Control. That’s what it was all about, and he meant to remind himself of that tonight.
Which was why his anger flared when the door burst open and Captain Bairne came barging in, dripping blood on his new rug that he’d stolen from one of the supply ships.
“Prince, sir, I…” Captain Bairne’s eyes darted down to the woman, then up to the Prince, and his face went pale. “Fuck me, I’m sorry, I…”
The Prince swatted Jessabel’s hand aside and pulled his pants back up to cover himself, not sure if he should be more upset or less because he hadn’t been fully aroused yet.
“You already interrupted,” the Prince said, glaring. “Spit it out.”
Bairne glanced down at the woman, waiting.
“Not her, you donkey-brained fuck,” the Prince said, only finding a moment’s humor in the situation. At least rum gave him that, sometimes. A reason to smile. “Bairne, why the hell are you bleeding on my rug, and what could be so important that you burst in on me like this?”
“Sorry again, Sir. Your highness.” Captain Bairne hobbled forward, dreadlocks hanging around his head as the light from above cast a shadow that gave him the look of a demon coming to deliver the devil’s message. “There’s a newcomer… the one we’ve heard tales of from down south. She’s here.”
The Prince cocked his head at that, waved Jessabel away without a second glance, and then smiled.
“Well, hell boy.” He aimed his pistol at Bairne, ran his tongue along his teeth to taste the remnants of rum still lingering there, and cocked the pistol. “Why isn’t she dead?”
“The stories… they’re true.”
There was a moment where the Prince nearly pissed himself, thinking of the devil incarnate coming to his door step. He had his pirates hunting more than just whackos—creatures of the night were extra prized, their killers given extra reward. And now the ultimate of them, from the stories he had heard, was here at his home.
Well, good.
He had the chance now to prove himself once and for all. And if not? Well, at least his suffering would come to an end. An idea hit him, causing him to stand up tall and proud.
“Captain Kaine will deal with her,” the Prince said. “We have nothing to worry about.”
“Kaine is powerful,” the captain admitted, glancing back into the other room nervously, where his followers had joined the others to see what was happening. “But he hasn’t returned yet.”
“Well, fuck a duck,” the Prince replied with a chuckle. “Do we have to do all the hard work ourselves? Ready my air ship, and we’ll see how many holes we can put into this she-devil before she collapses.”
“And the settlement, your highness?” Bairne asked.
“They can’t expect to live forever,” the Prince said with a chuckle, then felt a surge of warmth downstairs and a bulge pressing against his pants and glanced around, looking for Jessabel. He saw her at the far end of the room, nearly dressed. “Not so fast, you.”
She smiled and bit her lip, letting the dress fall again.
Bairne cleared his throat nervously, and the Prince turned to get some pre-slaughter enjoyment.
“I’ll just… ready the air ship then,” Bairne said, slowly backing out of the room.
“You don’t have her ready by the time I’m finished here, I’ll see that you’re this she-devil’s first victim,” the Prince said, pulling Jessabel close. He pressed his mouth to hers and tasted sweet cherry tobacco, ignoring whatever Bairne was saying about how there’d already been a first. He didn’t care, right now he was lost in the moment, lost in the flesh, and amped up with the thought of the oncoming slaughter.
Something had snapped in him that day long ago, the day he’d gone pirate. He knew it in a blurred way, like watching someone you know through a stained glass window, or like hearing someone call your name from far away. The knowledge was there, but it wasn’t.
And at this point, he’d done enough evil to not want to remember who he had once been. At this point, it was all or nothing, and if he was being honest with himself, nothing sounded just great.
But until someone brought him to that point, he’d damn sure take all. He meant to start with Jessabel, and then move on to this she-devil.
Maybe she would learn to worship him like the rest of these peons, he thought, if he was merciful enough to let her live.
Prince Edwards Island, Tunnels
Shouting carried through the tunnels as Valerie approached, with one side shouting that there was no way in hell they were going to attack the Prince of Pirates until sunrise, when they suspected any dark powers he had vanished.
Robin, for her part was yelling about how they had delayed enough, and that if they didn’t get moving on this soon, she would just leave them to do it on their own. Cammie and Royland took up her side of the argument, but were focusing on the point that Royland, too, would lose his advantage in the daylight.
“You can regenerate!” Martha said as Valerie entered. The woman’s back was to her, but she sensed everyone else silencing, so she paused, and then turned. “Oh, you’re back. Good. Everything settled out there?”
“His wife is buried, and he’s with his friends.” She joined Robin to lean against the wall, folding her arms across her chest. “Though there’re more dead pirates out there now.”
“What’d you do?” Toiya asked, her voice harsh.
“Helped a man in need. A man who’d been the victim of injustice.”
“And that meant more killing?”
Valerie nodded. “That’s what happens when people come at me or one of mine with the intention of seeing us harmed.”
Toiya rubbed her temples, then said, “Well, I’m glad we’re on your side.”
“Great. Oh, and we attack immediately.” Several mouths opened to protest, but Valerie continued, “The longer we wait, the greater the chance is that this bastard has hurt more people. That, and we have slavers to stop out west. Anyone who’s scared can stay, but the rest of us make our move now. Got it?”
Nobody protested.
“You have a plan then?” Robin asked.
“Sure do. I’m going to walk up to his door, say I’m here for him, then commence to end his life on this glorious planet. Sweet and simple.”
“Except that he’ll take to the blimp the moment you make your move,” Martha said. “And no other blimp can stand against his. So, unless you can fly…”
“If he sees her coming, that’s true,” River said, thoughtful.
“He’ll have eyes everywhere at this point,” Martha protested. “Sure, maybe that fast vampire movement thing she does might help, but other than that, I’m at a loss.”
“What about the canals?”
Everyone turned to River with interest.
“Go on,” Martha said.
River’s eyes lit up. “We use the canals to get out to the ships. Then we just have to find an incoming one, and Valerie can make her way from the ship as it’s unloading as if she were simply one of the crew. There happens to be a ship due tonight, and it’s running late.”
“It’ll add the element of surprise,” Martha said, nodding. “I don’t care how tough you are, charging into a Gatling gun and an arsenal of pirates can’t be fun.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Robin said with a distracted gaze.
“I’ve done worse,” Valerie said in agreement. “But the difference there was that my goal was to kill the CEOs of Old Manhattan. My aim here is to overthrow a pirate Prince and, at the same time, win people to my side.”
She thought about it for a moment, then said, “What if we intercepted the crew and convinced them to go along with us… then we all make as if we were delivering his cargo.”
“We take a little schooner out there while they’re doing the inventory,” Martha leaned in, seemingly into the plan now, “and no one’s the wiser.”
“Whose vessel is it?” River asked.
“That’s the problem,” Toiya said. “Captain Kaine.”
The room fell silent.
“And why’s that a problem?” Cammie asked. “It seems we’ve missed something.”
“Captain Kaine’s probably the most vile of ‘em all,” River said. “He’s brought in more plunder than the rest of the nine captains combined, and who knows how many heads he’s had to take to get him there.”
“We kill him and take his ship,” Cammie replied. “Easy.”
“He’s the reason I’m still alive,” Toiya replied, teeth clenched.
“Same goes for many here,” Martha offered. “Truth is, you make a move on him, you’ve lost the loyalty of most of the men and women on the island.”
“You have a better solution?” Valerie asked.
“Simply partner with him,” Martha replied, but Valerie sensed a change in the woman, a look in her eye that said she had more to offer on the subject.
“Fine,” Valerie said. “Everyone who’s with us, prepare. Since the four of us aren’t exactly experienced in taking boats�
�”
“Ships,” Toiya corrected her.
“Okay, ships… We can provide the muscle, but we’ll need your know-how.”
“Aye aye,” Toiya said, more mockingly than anything else, and turned to address her crew.
Martha stepped up next to Valerie and lowered her voice. “Shit happens.”
Valerie frowned, unsure where to go with that. “Yes… it does.”
“And if it happened to the captain while we were completing this mission,” Martha paused to wink, as if that was necessary, “well, I doubt there’d be too many questions asked.”
“Noted,” Valerie replied with a nod. She wasn’t sure she would judge this man by the word of a bunch of pirates, but so far, this group seemed better than the rest.
“I’ll get ready, we should head out soon.” Martha walked off to join Toiya and the others, who were changing into a stash of even more elaborate pirate clothes, complete with large hats, frills, and all.
Royland and Cammie had walked back up the hallway to have a chat, though Valerie wondered if it was more—those two were like dogs in heat. When it wasn’t disgusting, it was actually sweet.
Valerie joined Robin at the entryway, where she seemed to be standing guard.
“You sure you’re up for this?”
A flash of confusion creased Robin’s brow. “Of course. I was trained for this.”
“I mean, you’re not… distracted?”
Robin smiled. “I’m always distracted. That hasn’t stopped me in the past.”
“Yes, but have you actually done much of this in the past?”
“I was fighting right alongside you,” Robin said. “On more than one occasion, actually.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Oh my God, you’re worried about me!” Robin stared, mouth open, then said, “You’re actually worried about me.”