by ML Guida
Two long, hairy, spindly legs stabbed the sand. The white time spider emerged out of the sea like a ghosty apparition. Water dripped off its bulbous body. Moonlight glistened off eight glossy eyes, and saliva dripped from its clomping fangs to splatter onto the sand.
He froze, and his breath caught. The thought of that creature biting him or Penelope sent terror rushing through his veins. Could he actually let its fangs tear into his flesh? Would he even survive? There’d be no way the waif of a girl would survive such a foul fate.
Penelope screamed.
He put his hand over her mouth and pulled her trembling body against his as he pressed his back against the building. She struggled to get free, and he tightened his arm around her waist.
“Shhh,” he whispered into her ear. “It hasn’t seen us yet.”
The creature spewed strands onto the hull of the hapless schooner, covering half its side. Wood splintered and cracked. The mast teetered, sails billowed. Men ran along the deck, trying to brace the lanyards, but their efforts were in vain. The mast crashed into the water, propelling a fierce wave that smashed onto the beach and sprayed droplets high into the air.
Ewan edged along the wooden building, trying to avoid the spider’s path. Penelope’s heart pounded as hard and as fast as his. The spider was searching for her, and thanks to Zuto’s dark magic, it would recognize her on sight.
“If I move my hand away from your mouth, d’ye promise not to scream?” he whispered in her ear. He couldn’t help but inhale her feminine scent. It reminded him of the aromatic heather of Scotland.
She nodded her head.
Hoping he wasn’t making a deathly mistake, he slowly released his hand. She sucked in a deep breath, then pushed her lips together as if trying to muffle the terror brewing inside her.
He took her trembling hand and led her down the alley. He reached the cobblestone street and looked over his shoulder.
The spider shrieked then crashed one of its legs into the tavern. Stone and wood cracked and caved inward, sending dust flying into the air. Another leg split a wagon in half. Eight eyes full of hate scanned the street, looking for them.
He melted back into the darkness, dragging Penelope with him. A thousand thoughts of where to go flashed in his mind—the mountains, the jungle, the town. But there was only one place he knew would be safe—the sea.
He tilted his head. “Move or die.”
Chapter Six
The overbearing gun master of the Soaring Phoenix Ewan Kelley had issued an order for Penelope to move or die. He was a warrior, but instead of casting hope like her father, he dashed her soul with gloom. His whip pressed against her hip. At her sister’s wedding, she’d seen him flick a fly off a horse’s ear without leaving a nick. Rumors had it that he was the one who doled out the punishment on board the Phoenix. His voice had been hard and sharp, as if she was one of the crew, and like the crew, if she disobeyed, she’d feel the lash on her back.
She didn’t want to die, but cold fear seized every muscle in her body, and she froze as the whale-sized spider circled, and its bulbous abdomen knocked down the brothel’s wall. Dust, stones, and wood collapsed on half-dressed people running out of the building. Her thumping panic threatened to break her icy heart. Penelope gripped Ewan’s hand tight, terrified he’d let go.
Pity flashed in his eyes, as if her incompetent reputation had even reached his pirates ears. “I promise I willna let anything happen to ye, lass.”
Penelope nodded, unable to speak, not just from the spider, but the shame that she needed protecting once more. She wished she had Angelica’s bravery and Isabella’s determination, but she possessed neither.
He squeezed her shaking hand, and his calloused one gave her the strength to move. Angelica had said that the spider was enormous, but Penelope had doubted her, fool that she was. She’d even hinted that Angelica was exaggerating. She’d never doubt her again.
The creature lifted a long leg then pierced a fallen man, pinning him to the ground. Crimson spurted through his mouth like a gushing fountain. She couldn’t move. Not even a hungry great white shark sent freezing fear icing down her spine.
Shouts and screams stilled her thundering heart.
“Hurry!” he urged.
She tripped over her gown and landed on one knee. Pain swept up her leg.
“Get up!” He hauled her up as if she was a small child.
Blood drained from her face. She squared her jaw, and ignoring the pain, limped down the beach.
He led her down to the deserted shore, and the water meant home. Silky strands dangled from a broken mast, and the sail drifted on the ocean. A schooner’s stern bobbed in the harbor like a piece of driftwood. Torn carcasses of men fluttered in the water; their faces frozen in horror. She couldn’t breathe as her lungs squeezed in terror.
She nodded and followed him. Something sticky whizzed over her head, ripping out her hair. She winced and put her hand on the top of her head.
“Get down!”
Ewan slammed his arm on her back, and she fell on her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Sand flew into her mouth. A white strand hit Ewan in the shoulder and spun him around, then he crumbled.
The spider hurried toward them, its ugly fangs chomping back and forth. Poseidon! They were both going to die unless she did something fast. She got on her knees. The creature stuck a leg into a stream. Not knowing if it would work or not, Penelope drew on her power and thrust her hand, hoping to create a wave to push the spider back.
But instead, the water turned to white and froze. Pure luck saved her. The creature moved, but its leg was frozen in the ice.
The spider shrieked with rage as it pulled on its leg. Bits of ice popped into the air. Any minute it would be free.
Ewan moaned and groaned. Blood trickled down his massive shoulder, and his red hair covered his handsome, rugged face. She put her hands underneath his arm. “Please get up. My magic isn’t strong. Put your arm around my neck.”
Sticky strands dangled from his shoulder, and she sucked in her tummy. The web had sliced through his shoulder as if it had been sword. It wasn’t just his shoulder. Lacerations rippled down his arm. “Ewan, can you hear me?”
“Aye, help me, lass.” His face turned pale, and his eyes fluttered. “I canna die. The demon will kill me wee daughter. He knows where she is.”
“Your daughter?”
He gripped her arm tight. “Please. She’s blind and all I have left. Without me, she’ll die.”
She thought she saw tears in his eyes. She’d never known the fierce gun master of the Soaring Phoenix had a daughter nor that he was capable of such caring. His desperation touched her. She’d always thought he was hard as nails and callous.
She pulled on his arm. “I will not leave you. Get up.” She couldn’t abandon him and let an innocent child die.
“Thank ye.” His voice was raspy, as if each gasp was his last.
The ice snapped. The creature pulled on its leg.
“Please. The beast will be free soon.” She couldn’t take her eyes off its fangs, and the thought of it tearing into her flesh made her want to run into the sea for freedom. She had little doubt that it would attack Ewan and rip him apart. Angelica had warned her that not even vampire pirates could withstand this monster.
She huddled her body against his. Ewan shook his head, but he gritted his teeth, then clutched her arm as he stood. He leaned his massive frame against her small one. She silenced a muffled groan and braced her legs.
He tilted his head. “There’s a dinghy tied to the wharf. ’Tis not much of a chance, but ’tis better than fighting the beastie.”
Like he did his men, he commanded a presence that made her trust him. She didn’t answer him and concentrated on the dinghy that seemed to be a million miles away. The going was at a snail’s pace. She put one foot forward, sinking into the sand while bracing her heel behind her. Ewan would drag his feet slowly, then take a breath. His body crushed her, and she labored to brea
the. Sweat trickled down her face.
Behind them, the creature shrieked. She closed her eyes, waiting for unbearable rippling through her flesh as it sank its fangs into her muscle.
“Just keep moving,” Ewan whispered. His head hung down onto his chest. He collapsed onto one knee and dropped his arm.
Strands of Penelope’s hair hung in her face. She gasped for breath. Her muscles strained with pain. She looked up. The dinghy was less than ten feet. “Ewan, we are almost there. Please.”
She clasped her hands underneath his large bicep. “Now! Move!”
Ewan lifted his head up and down, but didn’t answer. In one big leap or fall, they made it into the dinghy, limbs tangled. The small boat rocked back and forth, the boon swinging and creaking.
There were oars at the bottom of the boat. She clamored over his large body but couldn’t help inhaling his masculine scent, which reminded her of salt and oil––such a different combination. Her fingers trembling, she managed to untie the bow line securing the boat to the pier. The rope fell into the water. She snatched the oars out of the bottom of the boat.
Ewan reached for an oar with a shaking hand. “Give it to me. I’ll do it.”
She whipped out of his reach. “Don’t be silly. You’re hurt.” She pushed him, and he landed on his arse.
He released a groan and held his shoulder. Blood leaked through his fingers. “Yer not strong enough, lass. The creature will overtake us.” He labored to say each word.
“I am not helpless.” She avoided looking in his eyes, afraid he’d look at her as a failure.
But he gave her a small grin. “I never said ye were.” He grimaced and arched his back.
“Ewan, please don’t pass out.”
“I am sorry, lass, but I…have…to…disappoint…ye. Stay to the…shadows,” he gasped. His eyes fluttered shut.
She wiped his hair off his sweaty face. He must be in so much pain, and all she could think about was saving herself. “I won’t let the spider get us.” At least she hoped that was true.
She sat back on the boat, trying to understand why Ewan had come here to save her. At Angelica’s wedding, she’d danced with him only once and got to see a part of him she’d hadn’t seen before. The hard lines on his face had softened and when he laughed––she liked the sound of his Scottish burr. His thick red hair had flared over his muscular shoulders, and she couldn’t help but notice his chiseled chest that peeked through his white shirt he’d opened to the navel. For a few minutes, she’d felt happy and protected in his arms, but then the dance ended. She’d hoped he would asked her for another dance, but he never did, and she was forced to dance with men who didn’t tickle her fancy.
The dreaded spider shrieked. It spurred her to sink the oar into the water. Once more, the thought of diving into the water and swimming to safety flashed through her mind, but Ewan had passed out. Blood spread across his shoulder. She had to get him away from here. Even grimacing in pain and passed out, he was ruggedly handsome and uncommonly brave.
Her father had said that mercy was one of the greatest assets of being a queen, and since she was about to be the next queen, she’d not leave a wounded man to die.
“You’re not going to get us, you son of bitch,” she whispered under breath. Her vow gave her strength. She edged the dinghy away from the shore and kept her focus on the darkness.
Angry shouts made her glance over her shoulder. Fiery arrows lit up the sky and pierced the spider’s skin. Its hair caught on fire, and a loud, terrified shriek made her heart stop. The spider yanked its leg, and drops of blood flew into the air. It spun around and around and around as a blaze lit up its back. A crack split open on the beach, and the spider slipped inside.
She dipped the oars slowly into the water and rowed through the blackness, ignoring the temptation to swim to her father. But Morgana had warned that the spider would follow, putting everyone she cared about in danger.
She twisted, searching for the creature. The sea was calm, and waves lazily rolled onto the shore. She studied the water, desperately looking for bubbles or ripples or a whirlwind.
Nothing. Why wasn’t it looking for her?
She ripped a piece of her gown and hurried over to Ewan. Her hands trembling, she carefully tied the material around his shoulder. He moaned but didn’t open his eyes. Her work wasn’t very good, but at least, it stopped the blood flow. She wiped her stained hands on her gown. She wanted to do more, but she didn’t have time.
She shoved the oars into the water and paddled as fast as she could, putting as much distance between them and Tortuga. She had to get Ewan to safety and stop the blood leaking from her dirty bandage and dress it properly.
The spider would be back and would be determined to hunt them down.
Her father had always warned her that nothing was worse than a wounded, furious, vengeful monster.
Chapter Seven
Moonlight flickered off the calm, empty sea that made Penelope feel utterly alone. A gentle breeze cooled the sweat sticking to her hot skin. She panted harder and harder. Her muscles throbbed, and each time she dipped the oars into the black water, her arms, shoulders, and wrists twitched in protest. She was growing numb as she tried to stay awake, listening to the steady rhythm of the water slapping against the sides of the longboat. She’d never worked so hard in her life, but she couldn’t stop. She’d had to put as much distance between them and Tortuga in hopes the time spider would lose their trail.
Ewan made a small groan. Glad for the break, she put her oars down, and her arms shook violently. His eyes remained shut, and his head hung over his slowly rising and falling chest. She’d never seen such long eyelashes on a man, and she thought it made him even more handsome—the original knave pirate.
But she needed to resist him. Temptation would douse her powers and leave her people vulnerable. Best get him back to his ship and to his daughter. Where was the girl? Surely, not on board the Phoenix.
The moonlight made his face look even paler. She put her trembling hand on the side of his cheek. He was warm as if a fever burned inside him. Blood had spread across his bandage, forming a jagged star that had left a stream down his arm. She desperately needed to dress his wound, but there was nothing in the boat. She needed to find land so she could build a fire and keep him warm.
She wiped his hot face with the hem of her dress, wishing she had something cleaner. He was alive, but for how long? He hadn’t moved since he’d passed out. The beast’s thread must possess some kind of magic or poison that was deadly even to vampires.
She carefully checked around the boat for bubbles or a hairy leg, but so far, luck had been on their side. It had been three hours since they’d escaped the beach, and the spider hadn’t reappeared. But that meant nothing. It might be hiding or watching them, waiting for the right time to attack. From what Ewan had said, the spider could appear anytime at any place—including the vast ocean.
Being a hero had never been in her nature. She’d always been the sister no one paid attention to—they always thought she only cared about collecting pretty gems or gowns, but here she was trying to save a man’s life.
“Father!” she cried.
Not even a ripple from the sea answered her.
“Where are you?” She twisted around in the boat, hoping to see a soft glow in the ocean that signaled his approach, but nothing––only disappointment greeted her.
She put her finger in the water, hoping her slight touch would bring him to her like it had when she was a child.
Nothing happened.
In frustration, she slapped her palm on top of the water and immediately regretted it. Sea salt soaked into her blistered palm, and she winced. She shook her throbbing hand and mumbled under her breath. “Where are you, Father?” She called out again. “You’ve always come before.”
But only Ewan’s soft snores answered her.
Sensibility settled inside her. There was no sense screaming until her voice was hoarse. Something must be
amiss. Father would have come if he’d been able, but she couldn’t worry about that now.
She was on her own.
She sighed heavily and looked behind her. Tortuga’s lights had faded into the distance, reminding her of twinkling stars.
Dark clouds swirled overhead and grumbled, blocking out the glowing moonlight. The wind picked up and whistled, and the longboat moved up and down on the growing, angry waves. She shivered as goose flesh broke out on her skin. She rubbed her trembling arms. The boat could easily tip over, dumping them both into the sea. It wouldn’t be a problem for her. Warmth would fill her, but Ewan could drown. If a vampire could drown.
Waters sloshed up against the boat, splashing onto her arms and face. Rain plopped onto her forehead then ran down into her eyes. She wiped the water off with the back of her hand.
She picked up the oars and rowed long, strong strokes, but it was as if she were dipping them into molasses. The water was angry and rocked the dinghy, tossing them around like a strip of seaweed. She had to get them to safety.
Rain turned into sleet, stabbing the ocean and slicing into her skin. The boat bobbed up high. Ewan slipped toward the water, one arm and leg disappearing into blackness.
“Ewan!” The wind silenced her cry.
The boat slid upward, and Ewan rolled further toward the water.
“No!” She dropped one oar into the boat and lunged. She snagged his arm with one hand, and hung on tight. The wind swished around her and ripped the other oar out of her hand hard. She cried out.
The oar banged against the hull then sailed high into the air, never touching the water. Her hair flared around her face, blinding her. Poseidon, they were in a squall.
Ewan slipped through her fingers. Ignoring the pain in her wrist, she grabbed him under his arm pits, and with one big effort, hauled him into the boat. He landed with a thud and actually steadied them. She shielded her eyes, hunting for someplace to go––anywhere.