by K. R. Conway
She stood in Kian’s robe, her arms crossed over her chest. “I can’t believe you two are going hunting now. Can’t you just wait until we dock at Polaris in two days?” she asked, playing with a throw pillow from the parlor couch. The yachts nearby had all fallen dark and we had shut down most of our lights as well, so as not to attract attention.
Kian pulled a switchblade from his black bag and tucked it into his belt as I removed my necklace, placing it on the bar. Rillin had insisted we start arming ourselves, since the other Mortis had attacked with weapons, but I still felt uncomfortable with the idea. Kian, however, took to the plan with ease.
We were both dressed in dark colors, though our ability to pull the shadows over our body was the ultimate camouflage.
My partner in crime looked to Ana, “We need to go tonight, Pix. Rillin says Polaris has no large game to hunt, except for those with dorsal fins and loads of teeth, and quite frankly, hunting sharks is not fun.”
“This hit will last us for a solid week, Ana,” I said as MJ came in from the aft deck. He pulled the glass door shut behind him as he entered the parlor.
“So, how long you think?” asked MJ. He was going to be with the girls while we hunted, but we didn’t foresee any issues. We were docked at a marina that was fairly remote.
“The Pink Crab is about 10 minutes away by foot. If we locate Garrett and his nephew right away, we can be back in under an hour,” I said, tying my black boots as I calculated how long it would take to efficiently murder two men.
“What do you want me to tell Eila if she wakes up?” asked MJ.
“Just tell her the truth – Kian and I went hunting.”
“Want me to tell her you went to kill an older man who gave her a pretty flower? Want me to tell her that part, Raef?” asked Ana.
I stopped what I was doing and took a deep breath. “Look, I get you don’t approve of me sneaking out like this, but she didn’t take it too well when she learned we were hunting people. We’ve had a great trip so far and I don’t want to ruin it for her. As for Garrett, Rillin says he is selling a lot more than drinks and fried conch out of his establishment.”
“What exactly landed him and his nephew on Rillin’s list?” asked MJ.
“Drug smuggling, though his nephew dabbles in the skin trade and high-end theft as well,” said Kian. “I’ve got no qualms removing these two scumbags from the land of the living.”
The skin trade, selling people for profit, made me ill. It was almost always young people, usually females, who were bought and sold like animals. Kidnapped from their families, never to be heard from again.
“I want the nephew,” I said, thinking of Eila safely tucked into my bed.
“Fine by me,” said Kian, starting for the door. He looked to MJ. “You keep an eye out for anything weird, got me? Where’s the gun?” MJ pushed up his t-shirt and revealed Dalca’s handgun tucked into his waistband.
“You sure you don’t want to phase, MJ?” I asked, still not thrilled we were leaving the girls alone with him.
MJ shook his head, “Not this time. I wouldn’t get around too good as Marsh in the layout of the yacht. Two feet are better than four inside here. Don’t worry, Raef. I got your girl. She’s safe with me – Ana too.”
Ana snorted, “I can kick your butt when you are in human form, MJ, and you know it.”
Kian walked over to Ana and pulled the sea glass necklace over his head. “I can completely see that happening, Pix, but try not to damage MJ while I’m gone.” He placed his necklace over Ana’s head and it rested against her own piece of the ocean, “Keep my present safe, will ya?” Ana, unable to reply, simply gave a small nod.
We left, heading down the dock silently, and I glanced back at Cerberus. MJ stood on the flydeck watching the night.
I had one hour to kill a man.
One hour to be a monster.
51 Eila
Something jolted me awake and I blinked into the darkness, listening for a moment.
I rolled over to tell Raef I thought I heard something weird, but was surprised to see he was not in bed. But then I heard the doorknob turn and I smiled, knowing it had to be Raef, returning to bed. It took less than two seconds to realize the tall, slim shape entering the room was not the boy I loved.
The figure lunged at me just as I went to scream, and he pinned me to the bed pressing something over my mouth.
“Shut up,” he hissed, yanking me onto my stomach.
Terror was flying through my body as I heard tape ripping and felt my wrists being bound behind my back. I screamed through the tape across my lips, knowing that no one could hear me.
Where was Raef? What had this monster done to my friends?
The man was working at the tape, when the training Raef had put me through kicked in and my fear was replaced by a need to fight – and beat the tar out of this man.
I arched backward quickly, knocking the back of my head into the man’s forehead as hard as I could. He hissed out a swear, and his weight eased from my back just enough for me to flip over. I brought my knees up hard and fast, and nailed the bastard right between the legs and he let out a holler, falling over sideways.
I somersaulted off the bed, hitting the floor hard on my knees as my attacker staggered to his feet, still partially doubled over. I scrambled to get my bound hands under my butt and past my legs, so that I at least had the use of my clasped fists.
Just as he stood, I launched myself at him, landing on his back and slinging my arms over his head in the most messed-up piggyback ride ever. I pulled with all my might on his throat and he began gagging, his own hands clamping down on my wrists, trying to release the pressure.
He suddenly pushed backward, hard and fast, slamming me up against the edge of the porthole, and my shoulder screamed in pain as I groaned. He pulled forward to bash me against the wall again just as Ana came flying into the room with a fire extinguisher in her hands, screaming like a banshee dressed in a black t-shirt and hot pink boyshorts.
She jumped onto the bed just as she swung the canister, connecting the heavy red bottle with the jaw of my attacker. The resounding clang spun the man’s head to the side and he staggered, falling to the floor. With my hands still trapped around his neck, I crashed down with him, slamming my already painful shoulder into the ground, nearly knocking the wind out of me.
Ana scrambled off the bed to me, her make-shift bat still in her hands. “What the HELL?” she yelled, shaking.
I was still catching my breath and my body twitched from the adrenaline in my veins. I managed to pry my hands from around the unconscious man’s head and peel the silver tape from my lips, hissing as I did so.
“Thanks” I breathed.
“THANKS? THANKS! Screw thanks - who is this dirtbag?” she demanded, kicking the man hard in the side. He moaned. “Welcome aboard Cerberus, scumbag!”
“I have no clue what just happened,” I replied, trying to twist my wrists out of the makeshift cuffs, but the tape only clung to my skin more tightly. “Where’s Raef and Kian? Where’s MJ?” I asked.
Damn, my shoulder hurt.
Ana notched the tape and managed to tear it free from my hands. “Key and Raef went Blacklist hunting about a half-hour ago, but MJ . . . MJ should be here,” she replied. I scrambled to my feet and headed for the door, yelling for MJ.
Ana dropped to her knees next to my attacker and yanked him over to his back. Blood poured from his broken nose, and a massive bump was forming on his head from Ana’s killer aim. She placed her hands on his forehead and closed her eyes.
I nearly asked what she was doing, desperate to search for MJ, when I realized she was trying to read him. Her eyes flew open and she looked at me, terrified as I heard the engine roar to life. “Pirates,” she breathed.
My eyes grew huge, “OF THE CARIBBEAN?”
52 Raef
“We are looking for Mr. Garrett,” I said to the over-sized bouncer at The Pink Crab’s backdoor. What was the worth of this guy? That
he could squash someone with his two-tons of fat? Humans could be so stupid when it came to security. We had already been frisked by the first idiot and passed the “no-weapons” test with flying colors. Little did they know we didn’t need weapons, though Kian was hiding a nice blade.
“Mr. Garrett is busy,” said the lump of meat.
“Mr. Garrett knows us.” My stomach turned as I recalled him kissing Eila’s hand and giving her the flower.
“Trust me – we are the type of clients that Mr. Garrett enjoys doing business with,” said Kian, channeling his rich-kid-drug-addict slant. The bouncer eyed us a moment longer and then brought a walkie talkie to his mouth, relaying our request.
The lock behind the bouncer made a double clicking sound and he pulled the large wooden door open for us. “First door on the right, boys,” he said with a sneer.
We stepped inside and I quickly realized that the door on the right was the only door in the hallway. I didn’t point this out for the bouncer, since I was sure he couldn’t count anyway. I opened the door, taking a fast inventory of the room, Kian close behind me. Mr. Garrett sat behind an ornate, cherry desk with a box of Cuban cigars. The smell of the rolled tobacco helped to mask the smell of weed.
“Good to see you boys again,” said Garrett, not attempting to stand or shake our hands. He didn’t have any guards in his room with him, which meant that he didn’t see us as a threat.
“Good to see you, too,” said Kian. “We heard you have some outstanding goods for those with discerning tastes, and we were hoping to possibly purchase some of your fine . . . cigars.”
Mr. Garrett’s mouth twisted into a small grin, believing we were looking to score some cocaine, not cigars – or his life. “Hmmm – you know, boys, I’d like to do business with you. I would. But I am thinking that you might be in over your head, purchasing such high end products from me. Boys like you need to be careful in places like this.”
“I think we can handle ourselves, but thanks for the concern,” said Kian. “Name your price.”
Garrett gave a small chuckle, “So cocky for so young. I suspect Mum and Dad may not be too pleased to learn their sons are throwing away their trust fund money on cigars and pretty young things. Speaking of which, where are those lovely girls anyway?”
I stepped forward, “The girls are none of your concern. Leave them out of this.” Unease was beginning to flow through me and I could tell Kian was feeling it as well. Something was not right. Something about the way Garrett was dealing with us. Playing with us.
“You know, beautiful things go missing, even in a paradise such as this. Perhaps you should be more concerned about what you have, or rather did have, than what you want.”
All right, I was done. I strode over to the desk and Garrett got to his feet, pulling a gun from under the desk and aiming it at my chest. “Your first mistake was thinking I would deal with snot-nosed brats like you two,” said Garrett.
I leaned more forward and the gun pressed against my chest. Yeah, a bullet would hurt, but it certainly wouldn’t kill me. “Actually, Mr. Garrett, your first mistake was letting us inside,” I growled.
“You’re mighty confident, considering I could put a hole through your chest. I bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you understood the true price of doing business with me.”
Tired of his rambling, I lunged, easily disarming Garrett and pinning him by the neck to the wall. He looked momentarily shocked, but irritatingly sure of himself. Kian sauntered over beside me. “I don’t know, Mr. Garrett. I think we are getting quite a bargain.”
Garrett’s face twisted into a perverse sort of grin that chilled me to the bone. “I don’t think so. You see, my nephew just left to collect a very nice yacht as payment for your evening in my bar. The girls will just be a bonus.”
I glared at Garrett. “What have you done?” I snarled through my teeth as Kian yanked his phone from his pocket and dialed MJ. It rang and rang, then went to voicemail.
Garrett offered a perverse smile. “There are pirates in the Caribbean, and my nephew’s crew is hunting some very beautiful treasures tonight.”
Kian roared at Garrett, “Call him off!”
“Or what, you little shit?” snapped Garrett. “You’re playing a game that you have no business being in. You don’t have it in you to kill someone like me. You’re just a kid!”
Rage consumed me, and all of Rillin’s rules about making a hit look like an accident disintegrated as I grabbed Garrett by the neck . . . and removed his head from his body.
53 Eila
Cerberus lurched once again to starboard and Ana and I tumbled sideways in the hall, banging against the bathroom door.
“We need to get upstairs,” I yelled over the roaring engine as I tried to get to my feet and steady myself. The floor of the yacht slanted towards the stern, and dishware slid from the counters, crashing to the floor and scattering down the hall towards our feet. Ana scrambled back as a chef’s knife pinwheeled its way past her toes and struck the back wall.
“Go find MJ! I’m going to try and shut her down from the engine room!” yelled Ana. The floor tilted the other way and Ana grabbed hold of the bathroom doorknob, keeping herself from sliding across the hall. The knife came back towards me and I slammed my hand down on the handle, grabbing the sharp kitchen tool from the tile floor.
Now I had a weapon and I was dying to use it on whoever was trying to steal our yacht. They might be pirates, but steering wasn’t their strong suit. If they had done something to MJ, I would beat the piss out of their booty.
“Be careful!” I yelled to Ana as more stuff smashed to the floor. She nodded and pushed off the wall, heading for the back of the shuddering yacht and the engine room door.
I bolted for the stairs and managed to get up five steps before the yacht lurched hard and I lost my footing, tossing the knife. I hung on to the handrail, but my body slammed against the wall and my injured shoulder gave a sickening pop as I cried out in pain. I forced myself to my feet, knowing I needed to get to the bridge and stop whoever was controlling the boat before Cerberus fell on her side completely. Before she sank, taking us with her.
The boat leveled, and I pinned my injured arm to my side and dashed to the top of the stairs and the parlor. Standing by the inner controls was MJ, pale with blood streaming down from a slice in his forehead, hanging with all his might onto the steering wheel.
“MJ!” I yelled just as he pulled hard on the wheel and Cerberus leaned sharply to port. I stumbled forward and MJ grabbed me just as I was about to slam into him, and my hand slapped into the stereo system. A rock song began blaring from the speakers at a deafening level
“Eila! Are you okay? Where’s Ana?” he yelled over Steven Tyler’s screaming voice.
“She is trying to shut down the engine. What the hell is going on?” I yelled back, but the wheel came to life and yanked the other way out of MJ’s grip and we fell to the floor together. I screamed as my shoulder took the brunt of the fall, but my pain powered my anger and shut down any trace of fear.
I wanted justice. I wanted control. The Lunaterra side of my DNA cranked my inner fatal female to life, and I was ready to unleash the crazy on Black Beard’s idiots.
MJ tried to pull himself up to the controls, locking his hand over the throttle, and Cerberus let out a screaming growl as the engine battled against itself. “Some guys knocked me out! When I came to, we were underway, headed god knows where. I’ve been fighting with whoever is on the flydeck for control of the boat. I’m trying to keep us close to the island,” said MJ. “If I keep fighting the guy above us, we are going to tear Cerberus apart!”
“They’re pirates!” I yelled. MJ glared at me as if I’d lost my mind.
I managed a glance out the parlor windows and realized we were pretty far from shore. “Raef and Kian are still on the island?” I yelled, pissed that we had left them behind. MJ nodded, his jaw hard. “Where’s Dalca’s gun, MJ?”
“I don’t know. I got hit in the hea
d and when I came to, I no longer had it,” he yelled, trying to be heard over the music. From my vantage point on the floor I could see the SOS kit secured under the cabinet. I yanked the red box from its spot and pulled out the flare gun, loading it.
“Eila – the flares aren’t going to help us!” yelled MJ over the music.
“Got a better plan?” I argued, scrambling to my feet. “Hold her steady if you can!”
“Where are you going?” demanded MJ, hanging onto the wheel with all his might while the boat lobbed one way, then the other. I staggered back and forth, trying to maintain my balance.
“To get our boat back, captain!” I yelled. Dang – I was actually high on the rush of what was happening. Any clear, shy thoughts I should have been entertaining had disappeared to another dimension.
I was entirely fearless.
MJ swore, “Be careful, Eila!”
I ran in spurts through the parlor, balancing on a couch or chair until I reached the glass doors. I pulled them open and managed to make my way to the ladder that led to the flybridge, my heart pounding. With only one working arm, I held the flare gun in my teeth and started climbing the ladder, hanging on for dear life when Cerberus would jolt. She was tearing up the ocean, tossing up waves and foam that sprayed the side of her ruby hull and slicked the ladder rungs.
Finally reaching the top, I peeked over and saw a man dressed in black, dreadlocks hanging down his back. I leveled the flare gun at his back and fired, but the shot went wide and struck the instrument panel.
The man spun, his green eyes immediately finding me. Crap.
He pulled a gun from his waistband and aimed for me just as Cerberus lurched hard to starboard once again. The man staggered, losing his balance, and his arms flailed. I ducked as he hit the deck hard, his gun firing.
Cerberus’ engine moaned one last time and then fell silent.
I hugged the ladder with my one good arm, my eyes still closed, breathing hard as the remaining waves slapped against the hull and Aerosmith abruptly silenced. Then I heard MJ, screaming my name. I snapped out of my frozen mind and realized I wasn’t dead. I called back to him that I was alright and I peeked my head up and over the ladder.