A Pirate's Bane (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix Book 5)

by ML Guida

  Pounding footsteps rushed down the stairs. William O’Brien, the dreaded dragon-shifter, and his woman the witch, Mariah Fey, rushed over toward him.

  Mariah studied Leif with her violet eyes. “’Tis happening.”

  “What’s happenin’?” Leif panted.

  But neither of them answered. Leif leaned his forehead on the cool bars. There was no hope in convincing William, the dragon-changer, to help him, but maybe Mariah would be different. Up close, he was surprised by how petite she was. The tales of his native Scotland wove witches as being ugly and evil, but Mariah Fey was none of these things. And she was powerful. Powerful enough to make Zuto think twice about how to defeat her. “You’re Mariah, the witch? Get me out of here.”

  Sorrow filled her eyes. “Je suis désolé. I cannot. This dark magic is beyond me.”

  Her blue-black hair blended in with the darkness, and her smooth white skin made him want to caress the back of his hand on her flesh. It had been so long since he’d been with a proper woman. His only release had been with whores. “Not from what I’ve seen.”

  William tilted his head toward the doorway. “The hunger’s upon him. Tell Kane. We need to drag him to the island.”

  She patted his arm. “Be careful.”

  He bent over to kiss her on those pouty red lips. “I will.”

  She whisked away, her long green dress swooshing.

  “I donna need food, ye huddy. I need blood.”

  “No, you don’t. Before you change, we’ll chain you on the island. We can’t risk you burning the ship.” He picked up manacles dangling from the walls. “These are enchanted, so you can’t escape.”

  “Are you tellin’ me you’ve never seen a man transform into a vampire? Vampires donna burn down ships.”

  William smirked. “Aye, I know.” He took a key off the wall, then unlocked the door.

  Leif rushed him, but agony ripping down his spine like an arrow dropped him to his knees. He stretched out his arms, arching his back. Something moved along his back as if something was moving inside him. “What’s...what’s happenin’ to me?”

  William didn’t blink. His mouth was set tight, and a vein in his temple trembled. He had no mercy.

  “Then, what—” Hunger pains tore up Leif’s gut. He couldn’t breathe. “Help me.”

  William sighed and leaned against a post. His green eyes changed to golden irises. Vampires didn’t have gold eyes—they had red ones.

  Another wave of agony overtook Leif, spreading down his legs, and he could care less about William’s damn eyes. He kicked off his boots and stripped off his pants, needing to feel cool air on his burning skin. Panting hard, he collapsed onto his hands and knees. Sweat drenched him as if he’d caught a jungle fever, scalding his insides, blurring his brain. “Get...Doc.”

  Footsteps rushed down the stairwell. Leif looked up, hoping to see Doc, but Captain Kane O’Brien and Ewan MacGregor walked into the brig with Mariah close behind. Ewan was taller and more muscular than Kane, but Kane’s fierceness of a captain would make the stoutest pirate cower. Kane still bore a thin scar on his left cheek that Palmer had given him when he was a young man, avenging his father’s death. He stared at Leif with merciless green eyes.

  “We need to hurry,” William said. “The transformation’s coming on fast.”

  “Transformation?” Leif gasped.

  The three men clamped manacles on Leif’s wrists; throbbing pain soared up his arms. He cried out, hating himself for showing weakness to his enemies. A pounding headache turned into stabbing agony. He tossed his head back and forth. Something pierced through his skull as if someone had shot arrows from inside. They dragged him out of the brig and up the stairs. He stumbled over a step, but strong arms kept him from falling. Fresh air drifted down the stairwell, but it did nothing to ease the hot-as-hell sweat drenching him. Bright sunlight hit him in the face, and he winced.

  “Blimey,” a pale pirate said. “He’s the devil himself. Look at ’em bloody horns.”

  Men made a wide berth; frightened and wary faces looked at him as if he were Lucifer.

  “Kill ’im, Capt’n,” a lanky man said, drawing out his sword, his hand shaking.

  “One flying lizard’s enough,” another grumbled.

  Leif shook his head, trying to figure out what the man was saying. He wasn’t sure he’d heard right. William was the only dragon in the Caribbean. He was possessed by a dragon spirit brought back from Coaybay. More pain pierced his temples. Dizziness blocked out rational thought.

  He was vaguely aware of being shackled to a rock. Hot sand burned his feet, but ’twas nothing compared to the fever rising inside him. His lips tingled, growing longer. He rolled his tongue over needlepoint jagged teeth, more than he’d ever possessed as a vampire. His nose extended longer than an alligator’s snout. He tossed his head back, screaming.

  Fingers and toes lengthened, turning into razor sharp claws. His cheeks extended, and he gasped for air, unable to suck in the tiniest snippet. Please, oh mighty God, make it stop. His rough skin changed into red and orange scales. Stabbing pain burst out of his back, and something flapped air, cooling his sweltering body. He glanced over his shoulder. Jaaysus, he had wings. There were sharp spines down his back, and he had a long tail. He wasn’t a vampire—he was a red dragon.

  The hunger intensified. He licked his lips, but ’twas not just hunger tormenting him. Anger surged through him. He wanted to hurt, maim, kill. He pulled hard on the manacles, but the manacles didn’t even inch apart. He was bound tight.

  No, a low voice said.

  None of the men standing a short distance away had opened their mouths. He scanned the beach, but they were alone. The men looking on from the Phoenix were too far away to have said anything. He strained to hear the slightest movement in the lush jungle, but he only heard the rustle of leaves and birds cawing. Something was different. He stilled. ’Twas not just the birds he heard. He could hear the scurrying of a lizard, the buzzing of bumble bees, the hissing of a snake. Instinctively, he knew these creatures were deep in the jungle. His heart banged against his ribs. Not even as a vampire could he make out such precise sounds.

  But it wasn’t just sounds...

  He detected the distinctive smell of each of the men standing in front of him—Kane was spicy, but not just spicy, he smelled of cinnamon while William smelled like a smothering fire. Beautiful Mariah smelled of sweet lavender. The other men hinted of leather, salt, citrus. How could he make this out? A breeze washed over him, inundating him with the sweet scent of exotic flowers, pineapples, bananas, and coconuts. Not just floral perfumes, but the smells of a pond with geckos, frogs, a cave with the droppings of bats. ’Twas too much. Panic seized his chest.

  William approached him. “You need to listen to your dragon.”

  Leif opened his mouth to speak, but a stream of fire spewed out, flashing over William. The men and Mariah backed away, shielding their faces with their palms. But William didn’t retreat. He walked out of the flames, his clothes blackened and smoking, but his flesh and hair unblemished.

  William’s eyes glowed gold. “Hello, Dracul.” His voice was deeper, more of a growl.

  “Drakon,” the same unrecognizable voice said.

  Spinning around desperately, Leif hunted for whatever was whispering in his ear, but he got tangled in the chains, metal cutting into his flesh, and fell over on his arse.

  “The voice you hear.” William stood over him, his shadow blanketing Leif. “’Tis coming from inside you. You’re possessed by a dragon spirit. According to my dragon, his name is Dracul—Drakon’s brother.” His voice was strangely calm as if people had dragon spirits taking over their bodies every day.

  Leif shook his head. Gritting his teeth, he pulled on the chains, straining his muscles. Blood trickled from the links, but he didn’t even get a satisfied clink.

  Are you ready to listen? Take a deep breath. I’ll tell you everything, but first you need to eat.

  He stopped jiggl
ing the manacles, too tired to pull. The chains had rubbed his flesh raw. Licking his dry and cracked lips, he longed for a sip of fresh water to ease the scratchiness in his throat. His stomach growled pitifully, needing fresh meat. Food and water was all he could think about. He looked at Kane, Ewan, Mariah, and William, wanting to tear out their flesh, and satisfy the consuming hunger.

  William glanced over his shoulder. “Tell Cook to bring the fish and a jug of water. I suggest some of the men go hunting for wild boar. The fish will only push his hunger back so far. He needs meat.”

  Yes, I need meat. ’Tis been so long since I’ve filled my belly with real food.

  The voice again. Leif wanted to block it out. Hunger ravaged through him, his stomach slowly digesting itself. Pain twirled in his gut. His muscles weakening, he lay on his side, panting, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

  Men carried barrels of fish. The smell teased his growling stomach. His gnashed his teeth and licked his lips. Leif didn’t know where they’d gotten the fish, didn’t care. He watched them warily approach, fear flickering in their eyes. Leif took a deep breath and rolled to his feet. The men hastily dumped the barrels of fish in front of Leif’s feet. Ignoring them, Leif gobbled the fish, gnashing bones, gills, and sweet flesh. The lush, fresh meat eased the pain throbbing in his gut, but he wanted more, so much more. As he feasted on his bounty, out of the corner of his eye, pirates filled a barrel with fresh water. He moved toward it.

  His eyes wide, a lanky man dropped a bucket. “Don’t burn me!” He fled, the others following him.

  Leif stuck his head into the barrel, and slurped the cool water, easing his parched throat. Water drizzling down his jaws, he sat back on his haunches.

  William flashed his gaze over him. “Feel better?”

  Yes, the voice answered. Drakon, can you hear me?

  Leif shook his head. Who was talking? Not only had he turned into a dragon, he was going daft.

  Close your eyes, the voice said.

  Suspicion crept down Leif’s spine. Crouching onto his haunches, his tail twitching, he stared at William’s sword, waiting for him to make any sudden moves.

  He hasn’t said anything, the voice said.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Leif. Even if I wanted to, my dragon spirit forbids it. You need to close your eyes and focus. You’ll see the dragon in your mind. He’ll guide you.”

  He’s telling the truth.

  Against his better judgment, Leif closed his eyes, his senses on alert. If someone stepped on the tiniest pebble, he’d hear.

  An image of a dragon formed in his mind, but ’twas not an image. He had long horns, glowing gold eyes, and red and orange scales. He was fiercer looking than William’s dragon with the spines running down his back and tail, but his eyes were full of sadness.

  I am Dracul, the dragon spirit possessing you. You do not need to speak because I can hear your thoughts, and you can hear mine. I’m afraid the demon Zuto has a deadly plan for us. He wants us to mate with an undine.

  Dread filled Leif’s gut. So that was the bastard’s plan. He wanted him to get the undine with child, his child, and take her blood. A burning protectiveness welled inside him, and he puffed smoke through his nostrils. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. How do you know this?

  Dragons all possess magical powers. Mine are different than my brother Drakon’s. Drakon is the spirit that possesses William. One of my powers is the ability to read minds, including Zuto’s. Not only does he want us to mate with the undine, but he plans to maim her to keep her from escaping.

  Terror struck Leif’s heart. No!

  Uncontrollable fury burned through Leif. He released a howl, sending fire jetting out of his mouth. The fire melted the chains binding him. Men screamed and dove into the sand. He flapped his wings, creating a blinding sand storm, and flew into the sky.

  “Leif, come back!” William screamed.

  The wind rolled over Leif’s back, blocking out William’s shrill cries. Leif didn’t care. He had a demon to kill.

  Chapter Three

  Zuto’s arms were stretched high over his head, and he dangled from the hut’s beam, his toes brushing against the dirt floor. He could easily break the bindings, but Natasa liked to play the dominance game. The rising sun threatened to peer over the horizon, but it wouldn’t come soon enough.

  Her breasts threatening to spill out of her red gown, Natasa tapped the handle of a whip in her palm. “Comfy, love?”

  He refused to answer her, hate brewing in his chest. Damn Maketabori, the God of Coaybay, for making him submit to this bitch. One day, Zuto would be free of her.

  “Refusing to talk, are we?” She ran her hand down his back. “So unblemished, but I’ll fix that. I don’t know what you’re planning, lover, but bringing Charybdis here was a mistake. I don’t like competition.”

  “I told you I’m not sleeping with her.” How could he, even if he wanted to? His nights were preoccupied with fulfilling the lusty demon’s appetite.

  “Perhaps.” She licked him as if he were her favorite cream.

  He shuddered, loathing her lying velvet tongue.

  “This is only a taste of what I’ll do to you if I find out different.”

  She walked away. He clenched his fists, ready for the first strike of pain. She didn’t disappoint. The lash cut into his flesh, tearing into muscle. Agony rippled through him. Natasa was a demon, possessing the strength of ten men.

  She whipped him again and again, slicing into his lower back and thighs. He clamped his mouth shut, refusing to give her the satisfaction of hearing him cry out.

  “You’ll not touch her,” she said, as she slashed through his shoulder, cutting into bone.

  A stream of sunlight crept into the dark hut. Natasa screamed, “No!” Her voice faded.

  Panting hard, Zuto glanced over his bleeding shoulder. She was gone. He jerked the vines holding him and collapsed onto the dirt floor. He lay there, not thinking, unable to move. The slightest breath sent misery flowing through him. He couldn’t live like this. It had to stop.

  Ignoring the throbbing pain pulsing through him, Zuto clamored to sit. Red rope marks cut into his wrists, and he rubbed his numb hands. He caught his breath as he tried to think of what to do. His hatred for Natasa burned his gut. Did she really think he was attracted to Charybdis? She was just as evil and vile as Natasa.

  The fire flickered and crackled. The flames mesmerized Zuto as the weariness of the cat and mouse battles between the Phoenix and the Damsel weighed heavy on him. Charybdis’s shell necklace wasn’t enough. It might make Leif mate with the undine, but it did nothing to bring them together. He needed to get Isabella and Leif together now. The time spider was getting close to finishing spinning his web, but Zuto wasn’t any closer to trapping Natasa in Salem. She could still come to torment him at night. He wanted to get rid of both prodding women. Soon wasn’t soon enough.

  He looked at the clay pots on the bamboo shelves and knew what spell to cast. He stood, wincing at the pain. He’d heal by tonight, only to endure the torture all over again. Gritting his teeth, he limped over to the shelf and picked up two pots, one filled with purple wolfsbane flowers, the other deadly nightshade roots.

  He returned to the fire pit, then gingerly sat down and set the pots aside. He clapped his hands, sending pain up his overstretched arms. A golden chalice filled with mead appeared in front of the burning fire.

  He ground up deadly nightshade bulbs and poured it into the gold liquid. He smashed dried, purple wolfsbane flowers and added it to the brew, turning the barley smell to a pungent stench. Drawing on his demonic power, he held his hand over the cup. “Bara.”

  The mead bubbled, and black smoke swirled into the blue sky. The pungent odor evaporated, changing into a sweet smell. It was ready.

  He stretched out his arms wide. “Isabella, hear me. You need to sleep, go to sleep. I need to speak with you.”

  In the flames, he saw Isabella walking back and forth in her cell. Sh
e slowed her pace and put her hand on her forehead, her eyes fluttering shut. She slumped onto the filthy floor as if she’d fainted.

  Zuto picked up the chalice and entered her dreams....

  Chapter Four

  Warmth rolled over Isabella’s body, and she inhaled the salty breeze of her home. Sand cushioned her body, and she wanted to rest and block out the horrors of the last few days.

  “Isabella, wake up.”

  She groaned as she recognized the voice. ’Twas the demon Zuto. She wasn’t on a warm beach basking in the sun. She was still imprisoned on the dreaded pirate ship. Pretending not to hear him, she kept her eyes closed.

  “If you don’t wake up, I’ll drag you off the sand and shake you until you answer me.”

  Isabella didn’t want the demon touching her, let alone shaking her. She opened her eyes and sat crossed-legged on the beach. The demon’s shadow shaded her, chasing away the warmth of the sun. Refusing to look up at him, she stared at her beautiful ocean, wishing she could return home. “What do you want?”

  “Aren’t you thirsty?”

  That was a strange question. “Thirsty? No.”

  “Isn’t your throat drier than the sand you sit on? Can’t you feel your throat closing up? Your lips parched?”

  As he spoke, her throat swelled up. Her lips cracked. She touched them and winced. Her tongue was thick, and she couldn’t swallow. Pain scratched her dry throat. She gasped, unable to breathe. “What’s....happening?”

  Zuto grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet. He offered her a gold chalice. “Drink.”

  Fear pooled in her gut. There was something wrong with the chalice. She couldn’t smell anything bad, but it smelled too sweet, as if ’twas covering up something foul.