by ML Guida
He dropped his hands. “Palmer will find you.”
“Oui, he will. I shall be prepared to deal with him.”
William ran his hand through his hair. “No, you won’t. Palmer’s a devil. You have no idea what he’ll do to you.”
“He is torturing my brother. After Grand-mère and Grand-père, Lark is the only family I have left. I will not let him die. Not if I can help him. I am powerful, William. You will have to trust me.” She edged away from him. “If you do not mind, I need to pack.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “There’s nothing I can do or say to change your mind?”
“No, there is not.”
“Fine.” He glowered. “Then, I shan’t let you out of my sight. Pack.”
She avoided his angry prison guard stare and grabbed her velvet bag off the floor. She glanced around her room then focused on the three porcelain dolls sitting on her top shelf. Once she left this room, she would be facing a demon without Grand-mère, without her brother. Alone.
She grabbed the black-haired porcelain doll, stroking the soft hair and inhaling the lavender scent before she placed it in the bag.
“Why the doll?”
Mariah cleared her throat. “My parents made me it.”
“And?”
“My father carved it into my mother’s image, and she has my mother’s real hair. I just want to bring it. Do you have a problem with this, monsieur?”
He clasped her chin. “No, I don’t. How old were you when your mother died?”
“Twelve.”
“I was ten when I lost mine,” his voice was hushed and pained.
He obviously had loved his mother as much as she’d loved hers, and her anger toward him melted. He leaned closer, and his warm breath brushed over her face. He kissed her. Closing her eyes, she leaned into him again, feeling his strength. His kiss deepened, and strong arms wrapped around her. She clutched him tighter, wanting him to believe that she was strong enough to face Zuto, needing him to believe in her before her self-doubt crushed her.
“William, we’ve got to be moving. Now.”
Kane.
William released her. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and Mariah stepped away, hiding behind William’s tall frame.
“She’s still packing.”
“Then have her pack. Now.”
She rushed to her dresser and quickly packed her bag, making sure the doll was always on top. She grabbed her leather journal and her oak wand.
“What is that?”
“A wand. Oui, my father made it for me.”
He snorted. “You think a wand is going to stop Zuto?”
How could she be attracted to him one minute and the next want to dump a bucket of water over his skeptical head? She put her hands on hips. “Wands are powerful. Mandrake is inside the wand, and it will enhance any spell I use. The amethyst quartz at the tip heightens the energy in the ritual.”
He folded his arms across his chest and cocked his eyebrow.
She wanted to grab her wand and turn him into a bullfrog, but she was not that powerful. Rash emotions led to evil incantations, and she could not afford to make any mistakes. She took a cleansing breath to wash away the frustration pooling inside her and walked back to the dresser to grab her silver chalice and matching silver athame.
“Why the dagger?”
“’Tis an athame. Not a dagger. I need it for my spells.” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but he was baiting her.
He shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. Her rope of patience was sizzling, and her anger threatened to burst through. She seized the black, leather, spell book off her top shelf and shoved it into her bag. William lifted his eyebrow, and she stomped over to her shelf to snag her silver bell. She wanted to ring it in front of his ear to drive him mad like he was driving her insane. She snatched her altar pentacle and hurried to her bag. Having had enough of his smirking, she headed for the hallway. “Coming?”
William blocked her. “You’re a fool if you think those talismans can fight against the dark forces of the underworld.”
She swallowed hard and met his hard stare. “William, I have lost both of my parents, my Grand-mère is dying, and my brother is in danger of becoming a warlock, someone who I might be forced to destroy.” Her voice choked. “I know what I am up against. Do you?”
“Aye, I do.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hallway. “A stubborn witch determined to march to her own death.”
She glanced into Lark’s room and pushed on William’s hand. “Stop. Wait.”
William grumbled, “Jaaysus.”
But he released her. Mariah rushed into Lark’s room and grabbed his wand and his spell book. She placed both items in the bag.
William leaned against the door. “More foolishness.”
Mariah hardened her face, hiding the hurt brewing inside her and marched past him, refusing to defend her craft.
In the hallway, Grand-mère gripped her cane. “You are right, ma petite. Lark’s going to need his wand and spell book. ’Twas fate that he did not have his wand on him when he was taken, or Natasa would have contaminated it and used it to control him. I have something else you need.” She coughed hard. When she stopped, she stuck her hand inside her dress and pulled out a chain with a white quartz shaped into a heart.
Grand-père came up behind her, clasping her quaking shoulders. “Rest, Morgana. You need to sit down.”
“I am well, you old fool. Let me be.” She waved her hand. Grand-père stepped back. Dread filled his eyes. Mariah knew death was seeking Grand-mère. She had to hurry. Despite Grand-mère’s insistence she could do this on her own, Mariah knew in her soul that before this mess was ended, she would need Grand-mère.
“I shall rest when this is done,” Grand-mère said.
Mariah prayed she meant she would rest in a chair after they left and not dying.
“Now take this necklace. This represents Lark’s heart. It will remain white, but as he slowly turns, the color of the quartz will change.”
Mariah examined it closely, rubbing her thumb over the smooth stone, and frowned.
“Oui,” Grand-mère said. “’Tisn’t white. The color is darker, not pure.”
“What happens—” Mariah asked.
“When it turns black, you will know he has turned, and it will take all your strength and love to change him back to the brother you remember. Hurry, cheriè. Time is now your enemy.”
Mariah looped the necklace around her neck, and the smooth stone lay between her breasts.
“Wait,” Grand-père said. “You will need to be armed.”
William lifted one eyebrow as if he doubted what he heard. “Armed?”
“Magic is not the only talent she has. She’s a deadly shot. I taught her myself.” He disappeared and returned with a bag. “Packed it myself. It has shot and powder. You be careful, chérie.”
Mariah nodded. “Je promets.”
Grand-mère hacked again. Her eyes dulled, and her lips pinched tight. Mariah did not know if she should leave since Grand-père depended on her to help care for his wife.
“Do not worry about me, chérie. I shall not perish until I see Lark again.”
Mariah hoped she was not lying, just to convince her to leave.
“Listen to me, mon chou,” Grand-mère said, her voice tired. “You must give Lark his wand and spell book when the sun hides behind the moon.”
Mariah frowned. “But what if—”
“Silence! Together, you and the dragon must combine powers with Lark to defeat the demon.”
William aimed his frosty stare at Grand-mère. “Her? What of Zuto?”
But unlike Mariah, Grand-mère’s seemed unaffected by his intimidating glare. She laughed, but her laugh was short lived as a coughing spasm gripped her. Grand-père rushed to her and patted her back. “Morgana.”
Grand-mère shook her head. “I am well,” she whispered, her eyes watering. “Zuto’s part shall surprise
you.”
William gritted his teeth, “Surprise me how?”
“You will have to trust him, garçon,” Morgana said. “Or Natasa wins.”
Chapter Six
William walked alongside Mariah, trying to ignore her lavender scent that teased his nose. Solstice herded them, running up with the others and then back. Why had Kane allowed the dog to accompany them, he couldn’t fathom. She was Mariah’s familiar. More magic. Magic he didn’t trust.
After she almost fell in the river, he insisted on carrying her bag. More than once he thought about tying her to a tree. But he wouldn’t go against his brother’s orders. Kane wanted her aboard the Phoenix, regardless of the looming danger.
The trees thinned, and Tortuga’s tall buildings loomed ahead. He caressed the hilt of his sword, ready to unleash it if angry townspeople ambushed him. Men repaired the broken window at the Green Parrot Inn; the hammering banged on his tense nerves. Women bustled along the busy street, and some stared at him curiously.
Men stopped talking and tilted their hats at Mariah. Some even gave her appreciative gazes. He pushed back the urge to slit their throats. Why was he acting this way? Were the people agitating the dragon? For the unsuspecting townspeople, ’twas dangerous, way too dangerous.
Kane, Ronan, and Doc quickened their pace, but Mariah lagged behind. Had reasoning finally hit her and she regretted her decision? He was about to ask when a woman with graying hair pulled high into a bun stepped out of a shop. She shoved a pair of scissors into her apron and spread her arms wide. “Mariah, dearie.”
“Lydia.” Mariah smiled.
The two women hugged.
Solstice wagged her white tail.
Lydia held Mariah’s arms and rubbed them with her palms. “How is your Grand-mère feeling? The last time I saw her, she was a little peaked.”
Mariah gave her a small smile. “She is still not feeling well, but I am sure she shall get better.”
“I’m sorry.” She tilted her head and arched her eyebrow. “Hello, Solstice,” the woman said, rubbing the dog’s head. “And, who’s this?”
“Lydia, this is William O’Brien,” Mariah said. “William, Lydia is one of Grand-mère’s oldest and dearest friends.”
William bowed his head in greeting.
“Mmm, a stranger, eh?” She led Mariah a few feet away and spoke to her in a hushed voice. Normally, William would not be able to hear, but oddly, he heard every word. Another of the dragon’s abilities?
“You need to be wary, my dear. Yesterday, a dragon attacked us. Ate poor McGovern’s horse. The man’s still in shock. Something right out of Armageddon. Flew right out of the Green Parrot’s Inn.” She clicked her tongue. “No one saw the thing downstairs.” She tilted her head toward the dock. “I think it has something to do with that dreadful ship, the Soaring Phoenix. Every time she drops anchor, strange things happen. People get sick. And now a dragon.”
Mariah glanced at William, trying to hide a smile. She was enjoying this.
“How dreadful,” Mariah said. “Where did the dragon go?”
Solstice walked around William as if to say, “Here he is.” William pushed Solstice away. Damn familiar!
Lydia pointed west. “To the mountains.” She gripped Mariah’s shoulder. “You and your family be careful, dearie. ’Tis up there lurking, waiting.” She raised a closed fist toward the mountain as if challenging the dragon. “But next time, we’ll be ready. The militia’s armed.” She lowered her fist. “Don’t you worry. We shall kill the beast,” she said, her voice cheery.
Sweat trickled down William’s back, and he ran his hand through his hair. He was about to be a dead dragon. His head mounted over a fireplace. “Mariah.” He clasped her arm and moved her closer. “We need to get to the ship.”
Lydia looked between William and Mariah. “What ship?”
“The Soaring Phoenix.” He dragged Mariah away, leaving Lydia with a gaping mouth.
Mariah patted his hand. “William, you must forgive Lydia. She did not mean any harm. Since she’s aged, she speaks her mind and does not realize she is offending people.”
He snorted. Solstice ran around them again as if to slow William down, but he ignored the furry animal.
“You knew I could hear what she was saying?”
“Dragons do have superior hearing.”
“Were you enjoying yourself, lass?”
She rubbed her arm. “Lydia happens to be a good friend.”
“She’s a meddling fool,” he muttered. “Ready to have my head blown off.”
She covered her mouth, trying to hide a smirk. “You are afraid of Lydia, oui?”
“No,” he snapped. “Just her ability to summon the militia. I don’t relish having their weapons fired at me. When I’m a dragon, I can’t control it. Can you imagine what an angry dragon would do to this town? Now, let’s get to the ship.”
“Je suis désolé.”
He flinched as she cupped his cheek.
“Truly sorry.” Her hand trailed down his arm, sending chills tingling through him. “I sense the dragon is asleep, so we have time.”
He sighed, wishing she would touch him one more time. “Time? Time for what?”
“Time for me to teach you how to control your powers.” She tilted her head and smiled. “Trust me.”
He snorted. “You’re daft.”
Solstice growled.
She braced her shoulders and marched down the street toward the harbor. “Come on, Solstice.”
He stared at her stiff back as she flounced down the street, fists clenched. Beautiful, but foolish. Very foolish.
“Mariah.” He hurried beside her. “Do you even know where you’re going?”
She pointed straight ahead. “To the docks.”
William walked alongside her, surprised at how fast she could move, being a foot smaller than him. He wanted to say something, but didn’t know what.
As they neared the docks, the ocean breeze grew stronger, along with the smell of fish. Mariah slowed as they rounded the last building. She studied each of the ships, obviously looking for the Phoenix. Several ships—frigates, schooner, ketches—were anchored in the harbor, but he stared at the Soaring Phoenix. She stood tall and proud. A square-rigged frigate, she carried forty-guns and had a keel length of ninety feet. She could out sail any ship in the harbor.
“She’s the frigate next to the schooner.”
She blinked. “Reading my mind?”
He tossed his head back and laughed. “No, lassie, not hardly.”
Her frown disappeared, replaced by a lovely smile. He couldn’t help running the back of his palm down her soft cheek. “You were frowning and gazing straight ahead. I presumed you were looking for the Soaring Phoenix. I thought you’d like to see which ship was leading you into danger.”
She lifted her eyebrow. “That is an interesting way to put it,” she said, her voice husky.
He dropped his hand and tilted his head. “The Soaring Phoenix is strong, stronger than the Fiery Damsel. She sunk her foe once, but Palmer’s got a new ship, and he’s bent on revenge.”
“Revenge?”
“Aye, Palmer won’t rest until the Soaring Phoenix lies next to the Fiery Damsel in a watery grave.”
“He has my brother,” she said, her voice low and menacing.
He could feel the hidden power in those words as if she cast a vengeful spell on Palmer. “I know.” He wanted to hold her and whisper everything would be well, but it would be a lie. She deserved the truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Her brother might be lost to her forever.
He put his hand on Mariah’s lower back. “Shall we?”
She flicked her hair behind her shoulder. “Oui. Come, Solstice.”
William led the way, maneuvering her down the dock with her silly dog trailing behind.
“Now, there’s a real beauty,” a man said, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Another man whistled and licked his lips, his gaze slowly apprecia
ting Mariah’s curves.
Mariah glanced at the man but didn’t even flinch. She strolled past him as if she were out on Sunday walk.
William glowered at the two men. “She’s a lady. Leave her alone.”
“Didn’t say she wasn’t, mate,” the man said.
The whistler shrugged his shoulders and went back to picking up barrels and carrying them up a plank to a schooner.
“You do not have to be so protective,” Mariah said. “I can handle a few whistlers. I’ve lived in Tortuga for sometime now and know how to handle a leering sailor.”
“Aye, but I don’t tolerate men harassing lasses.”
She flashed him a lopsided smile and laughed, dousing his anger.
Amadi leaned on a barrel as William approached with Mariah. “Trouble, lad?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said.
Mariah’s eyes widened as she stared at Amadi. He usually intimidated people with his giant size, and she barely came up to his elbow. He wore a cutlass on his hip and a pistol inside his belt. His shirtless ebony skin gleamed in the sun, and his long, beaded braids were pagan and wild. William expected Mariah to huddle by his side, but once again, she surprised him and slightly bowed her head. “Bonjour.”
“Bonjour to you,” Amadi said.
“Mariah, this is Amadi.” William clasped Amadi’s shoulder. “He looks meaner than he is.”
“Mariah.” Amadi’s smile replaced his frown. “Capt’n done told me you were comin’ aboard.” He waved his arm. “Climb aboard, woman.”
“Merci, Amadi,” she said. “’Twas nice to meet you.”
Solstice rushed up the stairs.
“What the hell?” Amadi scowled.
“Her familiar,” William answered.
“Her what?”
“Don’t ask.” William put out his elbow, took Mariah’s hand, and pulled it through the nook of his arm. “Shall we?”
She scowled but allowed him to escort her up the gangplank. She was brave and not easily frightened, but she was only meeting the crew. She had not come to face-to-face with Palmer and Zuto. Then she’d embrace true terror.
Men marched up and down the plank, hastening with supplies of food, water, and gunpowder. The Phoenix was going into battle again. William steered Mariah away from the bustling crewmen. She stared straight ahead, the wind blowing her hair, covering her face, but he glimpsed wetness glistening on her cheeks. He patted her hand. “Why are you crying?”