by ML Guida
“No, I am not, William. My parents sacrificed themselves to save Lark and I. They were burned at the stakes. Oui, I am quite familiar with war, with torture, so do not presume I am some innocent farm girl. My innocence was robbed from me long ago.”
William stood in shock, his anger doused. Mariah’s lower trembled, but her fierce eyes met his gaze.
“Bloody hell, Mariah. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that’s how they died.”
She hugged her arms around her waist. “I try not to think about it.”
“You…” He hesitated. “You…didn’t see it.” He couldn’t imagine the terror, the helplessness, the screams.
“No, my parents left us with Grand-mère and Grand-père. They met our pursuers alone. ’Twas only later—” Her voice cracked. “That…”
William took her in his arms, wishing he could wipe the memory from her. He still had nightmares about seeing his mother shot then dying in his arms, but if she had been burned alive, he didn’t think he’d have the strength to cope. He’d be drowning in rum everyday to block the horror.
He kissed the top of Mariah’s head, inhaling her fragrant scent. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you. If you face Zuto…” He couldn’t say the rest, afraid of what the shrewd demon would do to her.
“I know what I am doing,” she murmured against his chest.
He put both his hands on her wet cheeks and forced her to look at him. “Do you want to end up like Lark?”
She pushed on his chest. “I will not lose my brother like I did my parents.”
She was so small and petite, a beautiful rose determined to weather the upcoming storm of evil. He picked up the stone lying between her breasts. “Your grandmother is right. Even since we left the cottage, the stone has changed. Lark is falling under Zuto’s control. Don’t you see? This could be you. Something evil and vile.” He released the stone.
“You already think I am something evil and vile, no?”
“I never said you were evil or vile.”
“No, you just think all witches are.”
“I didn’t say you.”
She folded her arms. “How chivalrous of you.”
He stepped closer. “Do not belittle my honor. Do you know what Palmer would do with a woman aboard his ship?”
She lifted her chin; fire blazed in those angry eyes. “Oui, I do. I need you to leave.”
“Leave? Leave why?”
“I need to be alone.”
Suspicion grew in his mind. Was she planning on casting a spell? Something she didn’t want anyone to know about. “Why?”
“I need some privacy.”
He raised his eyebrow. “To put away your things?”
She opened her bag, pulled out a dress, and folded it. “If you must know, I need to do a spell.”
“To do what?”
“Lark and I have always had a bond, and I want to see if I can reach him. I need to concentrate, and your disbelief rattles me.” She continued folding her dresses neatly into the chest. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to unpack.”
William followed her every delicate movement. She was so different than Hannah. Hannah detested wearing dresses, preferring to wear Kane’s shirt and pants. She enjoyed the rambunctiousness of the crew’s company, and she swore like them, too. Mariah was so feminine, from her flowing dresses to the porcelain doll she unpacked.
The porcelain doll her father made possessed the same violet eyes, the same pouty lips, and the same black hair as Mariah. She and her mother must have been twins.
Mariah caressed the doll’s hair before she placed it on top of the trunk. “Why are you still here?”
“I like watching you.”
She rolled her eyes and laid her spell books, candles, wand, and athame on the floor. “I am preparing to do a spell. Go bother someone else.”
“Why? Is the spell evil?”
“No. You think all spells are evil.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Why do you not run and tell your brother I practice the dark arts? Then Kane can condemn me, too.”
“Condemn? Never.” He lifted her chin and rubbed his thumb over her pliable lips. “Protect? Always.”
“William—”
Before she could protest, he kissed her. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, indulging in her mouth, wanting to memorize her female essence. Soft fingers clasped his shirt. Her breasts swelled against his chest. Bloody hell, he wanted this lass.
His hands moved down her back and cupped her buttocks, massaging them, eliciting a groan from her. Her lavender scent inflamed his senses, and he wanted to see the little witch naked, panting beneath him, begging him to take her.
She pushed on his chest and squirmed. “Please stop.”
He released her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should leave.” He pushed a lock of hair away from her rosy cheek. “What’s this spell you want to do?”
“I told you. To contact Lark.”
“Haven’t you tried to contact him before?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Oui, but I haven’t been successful. I have not…” She stopped, and her eyes glimmered with hope. “I think I know why the spell did not work.”
“Why?”
She didn’t answer and lit several candles, setting them around them as if in a diamond.
Uneasiness stirred inside him. “What are you doing?”
“You want to watch me do a spell?” she asked, her voice wary.
He wasn’t sure, but he thought he detected eagerness, too, as if she wanted him to say that he wasn’t afraid of magic.
“Aye,” he said. Her face brightened, but then his mouth engaged before he could stop it. “Well, no. I don’t believe your magic will be able to contact your brother. You admitted that earlier.”
“Oui, but I have an idea.” She motioned to the floor. “Please sit.”
“Why?
Together they lowered to the floor. She picked up a small bowl and set it between them. “You are going to have to trust me.”
“Trust you?”
She clasped his hand and ran her thumb over his fingers, and then moved down his index finger. “Oui.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Tingles swept over him, and closing his eyes, he bent his head to kiss her again to taste her sweetness one more time. Something sharp sliced his finger.
“Ow!”
Mariah held the athame in one hand and squeezed his finger with the other until blood dripped into the bowl.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She cut her own finger, blood streaming down her hand.
“Are you mad?” He caught her wrist.
“Release me, and I will show you.”
“Are you going to stab me again?”
“No. Please, William. I have to try to contact Lark.”
Mariah pinched her finger and blood pooled into the dish with his.
“I still don’t see what you are doing.”
“Grand-mère said that I needed a dragon to help me defeat the demons. My spell did not work on the island because I did not have you.”
William sucked on his finger and couldn’t help but admire that single-minded determination.
She chanted some words he didn’t understand, lifted the bowl high over her head. The candles flickered, the cabin darkened. Long black shadows with spindly arms and legs formed on the wall. Red eyes glared. He couldn’t tell how many there were or whether the things were male or female. They surrounded them and shrieked.
He placed his hand on his sword. “Mariah.”
She swayed back and forth, and her voice changed to a whisper. Wind blew around them, whistling. The shadows moved off the wall, and malice glowed in their eyes. Fingers tipped with jagged nails stretched out. Through the wind, a female voice hissed.
I’m going to kill you.
Natasa.
He jumped to his feet and swung his sword, slicing through one of the black mists. “Mariah, stop,” he said, in a no-nonsense ton
e.
Mariah tilted her head back. “Show me my brother.”
Her commanding voice took him by surprise. The candlelight flared high and flames shot out of the bowl. Lord, she was going to catch the Phoenix on fire, and they’d all drown.
“Mariah, you fool.” He reached for her.
Out of the blaze, a man’s haggard face formed. Dark stringy hair hung in front of his violet eyes, the same eyes as Mariah’s. Was this Lark? Then the image changed. The same man was in the belly of a ship, hanging in chains, suspended off the ground. Bruises and cuts marred his body. He raised his head, and he seemed to be staring at William.
“Natasa needs dragon’s blood to turn me,” Lark whispered. “Do not give in to anger. She needs you angry.”
William couldn’t move, stunned by Lark speaking to him. The black shadows lunged at Mariah, gnarled hands ripped at her stomach and back. She screamed, her hands fumbling with the bowl.
Lark’s image disappeared.
William swung his sword through the shadows, slicing through air. He swore he heard fabric rip, but Mariah’s dress remained whole. What had happened?
“The bowl, William,” she cried. “Take it from me and turn it upside down. The shadows are holding my arms. I can’t move.”
“I’ll burn the ship!”
“No, ’tis an illusion. Hurry.”
He seized the burning bowl, hoping to God he wasn’t going to set fire to the Phoenix and send all of them to a soggy grave. He slammed the bowl on the floor upside down. The shadows shrieked and faded.
“See I did it,” she panted.
He slid his sword back into the sheath. “You little fool. You almost caught the ship on fire and got yourself killed. What were those damn things?”
“We were supposed to think they were demons.” Her voice tired, she wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her palm.
“They weren’t?”
“No. They were part of a fear spell. I am sure Natasa sent it as a warning. Real demons would have done more than just scratch me.”
“I don’t see any scratches.”
“They’re under—” She stood and winced. “Never mind. I am fine.”
“You’re lying. You’re not fine.”
“He’s fighting them. He told us how to save him. I could feel the demon’s fear. They did not want me to see Lark. They are afraid, afraid I will be able to free him.”
“How?”
“By getting you to control your temper.”
“I don’t have a temper.”
“Oui, you do. We need to keep Natasa unsteady. She will make a mistake.”
“Fear leads to desperation and can be dangerous. What you did doesn’t change the fact that your magic isn’t as strong as the demons.”
“You do not trust me, no?”
He clutched her arm tight and pulled her against his chest. “I trust that you’re foolish.”
“I am not foolish. Will. You. Release. Me?”
He could not leave her alone. She’d more than likely conjure another spell and be ripped to shreds. How could he convince her to be reasonable and accept she wasn’t strong enough to beat the demons no matter what her deranged Grand-mère thought? Not knowing what else to do, he kissed her again.
“William,” Sean called. “Capt’n wants the lass up on deck. Now.”
William growled. “We’ll be up there in a minute.”
Strong footsteps thumped louder, and he released Mariah. The canvas wall opened, and Sean stood there scowling. “’Twas not a request.”
Mariah wiped her bruised lips and avoided Sean’s glowering gaze. William stepped in front of her. “We heard you, Sean. Leave.”
Sean shook his head and took his leave, grumbling underneath his breath.
“We should go.” Mariah darted in front of William.
He grabbed her arm. “Look at me.”
She raised her eyes and swept a wayward strand of hair behind her ears. “William, we need…”
Her dress was wrinkled, and her breasts threatened to fall out of her bodice. “Kane can wait. You need a minute to get yourself together.”
“What? Mon Dieu,” she whispered, straightening her dress.
He turned to give her a sense of privacy. Damn! How could he forget that only a thin piece of fabric sheltered them from a ship full of men?
“Since you’re determined to take on demons, I want to see how well you shoot.”
“Are you challenging me to a shooting contest?”
He turned around. She tucked a pearl-handled pistol inside a leather belt. How quickly she could access it and not shoot her graceful thigh needed to be tested. Her Grand-père had bragged about her ability, but shooting at targets on a quiet farm was different than going into battle with fierce vampires and two wicked demons.
He snorted. “Aye, something like that.”
She rolled her eyes and marched past him. “Bon.”
Annoyed by Kane’s order, he stomped after Mariah and her dog. Her swaying hips eased his frustration, and he wanted to slip his hands underneath her dress and explore her silky skin.
Topside, Kane gave orders to his crew. “Weigh anchor,” he yelled. “Spread her sails.”
Men grabbed the lanyards and hoisted the sails while others hauled up the anchor. Sean scowled and gripped the wheel and stared straight ahead.
Kane stood at the end of the bow, staring through his spyglass, Ronan and Hannah on either side. William guided Mariah around the busy men, refusing to have anyone even step on her boots.
Hannah peered over her shoulder and smiled. “Mariah.” Her smile disappeared. “Anything wrong?”
“No, why?”
“You look angry.”
“An angry witch?” His voice cautious, Kane put his spyglass down and studied her. Distrust flashed in his eyes. “Bloody hell.”
“Kane,” William warned.
“We’ve had enough curses, brother. What ails you lass?”
“Besides you summoning me—” she jerked her thumb at William. “—him for one.”
“Mariah.” William touched her shoulder.
Mariah jerked and flashed him a don’t-touch-me scowl.
“Being charming as ever.” Hannah smirked.
William’s hand burned where Mariah had scorned him. He ignored Hannah and glared at Kane. “What do you need, brother?”
“I want answers.” He focused on Mariah. “I want to know how you plan on teaching my brother how to control his powers. And how you plan to get your brother under control.”
“You do not trust me, no?”
“Forgive me, but I don’t,” Kane said. “As captain, I can’t. My crew, my woman, their lives depend on my decision. I can’t afford to trust you.”
“Kane,” William and Hannah said at the same time.
“Not only am I supposed to prove my competence in shooting, I now must also prove my magic? Bon, I will show you, Capitaine, oui?” Mariah said.
“How?” Kane asked.
William resented the suspicion in his brother’s eyes and clenched his fists. “Give her some time, Kane. You never doubted Hannah.”
Hannah rubbed Kane’s arm, and the tension lessened in his face. “’Tis true, Kane.”
Ronan came up on the other side of Mariah. “Lass?”
Mariah turned to Ronan. “Before I can decide what magic to use, I need you to tell me about the yari.”
“’Tis a silver collar with six diamonds. Whenever Lark tried to use an unauthorized spell, the diamonds turned into glowin’ rubies, burrowin’ into his neck, the collar tightenin’.”
She frowned. “So, he could not perform any spells?”
Ronan sighed. “No.”
“Are you sure, monsieur? If he could perform the tiniest of magic, then this means there is a flaw in the incantation. It might be enough for me to break it down further and free my brother.”
His eyes turned dark and vacant, and a muscle shivered in his cheek as if he was reliving the a
nguish again.
Mariah kept silent, but William could see the eagerness in her eyes, willing Ronan to remember.
Ronan shook his head. “I don’t remember anything. I’m sorry. I was tortured on the rack, and the constant agony stripped me of any rational thought. I wish I could remember. I’d do anythin’ to help Lark. He was my friend.” His voice caught.
Mariah lowered her head. When she looked up, anger flashed in her eyes, and she balled her fists. William thought she was going to strike Ronan for not being able to remember. He knew the desperation of trying to find a way to save loved ones, only to be met with disappointment.
“But ’tis not true,” Hannah said. “Lark could do magic even with the yari around his neck.”
Mariah’s scowling features and hands relaxed. Her eyes widened, and those rosy lips curled into a broad smile. She looked like a little girl excited to find a missing piece to a puzzle.
William didn’t see how this bit of information could give her hope.
“What?” Ronan blinked. “You werena there, lass. You donna know what Palmer did to the poor lad.”
“I do too,” Hannah said. “The day I freed you and my father, you fed on me. Remember?”
Kane sighed heavily.
Ronan winced. “Hannah, I dinna…”
“Ronan, we have been through this. You didn’t have a choice. I didn’t have a choice. If you hadn’t fed on me, you wouldn’t have been able to walk out of the dungeon. I wasn’t strong enough to carry you, and William had to carry my father.” She stared across the deck, and a melancholy passed across her countenance.
William followed her gaze. Her father, Captain Justin Knight, sat on a wooden chair that was bolted to the side of the ship to keep it secured as the ship rocked on the seas. Salt and pepper hair was neatly pulled back into a queue. His shoulders were slumped, and he held a cane across his lap. The man wasn’t what he used to be. Once an arrogant oaf, now he rarely spoke, his gray eyes distant as if he lived in another world.
“Is that your father, Hannah?” Mariah asked.
Hannah nodded. “Doc crafted the chair for him. ’Tis difficult for him to get around the ship, and he tires easily.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Sometimes I think he’s given up the will to live.”
Mariah knelt next to Solstice and hugged her dog. “Solstice, heal and comfort Capitaine Knight.”