Iron Pirate (The Deviant Future Book 5)

by Eve Langlais

  “If,” he repeated, also moving to an upright position. “You are talking about risking your life on a maybe.”

  “My life,” she reminded. “My body, meaning it’s my choice.”

  “What about this thing that’s happening between us?” He swirled a hand to encompass them both. “I care about you. Doesn’t my opinion count?”

  Her expression softened. “Of course, it does. But at the same time, I need to do what I think is best for me.”

  Which he could understand. He wouldn’t like anyone telling him what he should do.

  “I don’t want to lose you.” The scary, honest truth.

  And the right thing to say apparently, because she threw herself at him and kissed him with a furious passion.

  The sex proved explosive. Tiring, too. He fell asleep, and when he woke a short while later, Shereen was gone.

  The ship rocked. Thunder quaked.

  A storm of epic size was brewing, and he had a feeling he knew why.

  Chapter 17

  Leaving Darius proved hard. Looking at him, his eyes closed in repose, his features relaxed, Shereen wanted nothing more than to snuggle close to him. To ignore the Lazuli offer, forget the power stolen from her—the betrayal by her own father—and sail away from here. Find a nice place. A safe place where she and Darius could make love, over and over.

  It sounded like paradise, but epic sex couldn’t be the only thing she did with the rest of her life. She had been raised with a sense of responsibility. Raised to, one day, rule the citizens fairly and wisely.

  She’d hoped she’d be much older when that happened. Hadn’t wanted to ever imagine a world without her father.

  And now… She was so conflicted.

  The man she’d loved and idolized had been the one to hurt her, to handicap her and cause her to grow up feeling less than everyone else. Never mind her father’s reasoning behind it. He could have told her. Could have reversed the damage at any time. But he’d kept silent.

  Why?

  She already knew why. Because he was king.

  Her father used to have this habit of dispensing nuggets of wisdom, not too many of them, but there was one in particular that kept repeating itself in her head. Being a fair ruler doesn’t mean you can be a weak one. The hard choices are what separate the good leaders from the bad.

  She didn’t doubt it was hard for him to ask the Lazuli for help. Yet, at the same time, she recognized her father had chosen to let his emotions rule him. He’d let his fear and love for this last living child cloud his judgment. How could he have drugged her so that she would show no sign of psionic power?

  It angered her knowing what she’d been denied. Recalling how she’d been taunted and treated. Amidst the rage, there were tears. Father had loved her so much. He’d wanted to protect her in the only way he knew how. She could understand why he did it, but now it was time to rectify the wrong.

  And she couldn’t let anyone stop her. Not even a sexy pirate.

  Easing from the bed, Darius mumbled, “Where you going?”

  “I have to use the privy,” she lied.

  She quietly snared clothing before slipping through the door to the small chamber. It held the basics. She had to straddle the toilet in order to bathe. There was barely enough room to wiggle into her clothes. She exited from the second door.

  Emerging onto the deck, she immediately noticed the quietness of the night, a strange stillness that brought a shiver to her skin. She hugged her sweater closer. Her bare feet protested the chill in the metal. A stray breeze tugged at her hair. She made her way to the side of the boat, expecting at any moment for someone to yell at her, or even for Darius to appear on deck, ready to drag her back inside.

  Not a single sound broke the unnatural quiet. Even the rattle of the ladder appeared muted. She made it to the dock and began to walk, the nightlamps lining the streets in a soft glow that bounced off the square and barren buildings.

  Hearing a splash, she glanced behind to see the water around the gate slightly agitated. No signs of pursuit. Still, she quickened her pace.

  She had a vague idea of where to go. Very vague. Which meant she was quite happy when a door opened and Pomme stepped out. He waited for her to near before saying, “I take it you’ve come to a decision.”

  Shereen lifted her chin. “I want you to reverse what you and my father did.”

  “It would be my pleasure. If the princess would be so kind as to follow me, we can begin the treatment immediately.”

  Her mouth went dry, but she took the steps to join him. “What does the treatment comprise of?”

  “Just a simple injection that should melt away the inhibitors.”

  “What do you mean should?” she asked, realizing just how little she knew.

  “Medical science is not an absolute. Some treatments work better on some patients than others.”

  “Implying I might be doing this for nothing,” she muttered.

  “There is no harm in trying, surely.” Pomme had a smooth reply for everything.

  He needn’t have bothered. She’d come too far to turn back.

  She followed the doctor to a sterile room, larger than she’d have expected. Two stories high and round, there was a bed in the very center shaped in a cross. Machinery on either side of it hummed and flashed with lights.

  “If you would lie down.” Pomme gestured.

  She could barely swallow. Her throat had thickened with fear, and her heart pounded fast enough to surely crack her ribs and escape her chest.

  The first step proved hard. The next no easier. Her steps got even slower the closer she got to the bed. Eventually, she arrived by its side, and she spent a moment staring at it.

  “If you would please drink this.”

  He handed her a small cup with water inside. But she doubted it was anything so simple.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “A mild sedative to relax you.”

  Or poison, her insidious mind whispered. Which made no sense. Why poison her? And if she thought him capable, why had she left the warm comfort of the pirate’s bed?

  She downed the fluid and noticed it had a slight metallic aftertaste. She immediately felt fuzzy. Her limbs heavy. So tired. She closed her eyes for a second and swayed on her feet. When she opened them again, the room seemed dingier than she recalled.

  “I don’t feel good,” she stated.

  “You should lie down,” Pomme stated.

  She stared at the bed rather than obey. Should she do this?

  It’s just an injection. Her pep talk moved her to sit on the bed and swing her legs until they rested on it. She lay down and spread her arms wide. It reminded her of being strapped to the pedestal in that pyramid. That feeling of helplessness. Of not being in control.

  A sacrifice, and for what?

  Feeling panic rising, she closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths. It occurred to her in that moment she never asked one crucial question.

  She turned her head to find the doctor. “Will this hurt?”

  Bland gray eyes looked into hers just as a bright light illuminated overhead, blinding. She heard him, though.

  “Most assuredly.”

  And that was when the manacles snapped shut.

  Suddenly her wrists were pinned. Her legs, too. A nightmare come to life.

  She struggled, and even more bands wrapped around her, so many she was immobilized.

  “Let me go. I’ve changed my mind,” she huffed, panic threading each syllable.

  “Now, now, there’s nothing to worry about, princess.” Coming into view by her side, Doctor Pomme held up a needle, the glass vial filled with a fluid the most noxious shade of orange.

  She didn’t want it in her body. Not with the way Pomme was finally grinning. The smile of a sadist about to hurt someone.

  “Don’t you dare poke me with that.”

  “It’s the only way to unlock the power you’re hiding inside.”

  “What if I don’t
want it?”

  “Of course, you want it,” Doctor Pomme scoffed. “You didn’t come all this way to turn coward at the crucial moment. This will finally give you what you’ve always wanted.”

  “Why do you care?” She talked to him in the hopes of delaying the inevitable.

  “I don’t, but I am curious. What did your father see in his daughter that made him so desperate?”

  “Don’t do this,” she begged softly, but Pomme didn’t listen.

  The tip of the needle pricked the skin of her arm where it met the shoulder. Before he could depress the plunger, the door to the room suddenly blew open. She gasped.

  Darius bounded in, his braided hair swinging, looking dashing with his sword in hand. “Unhand the princess!”

  The doctor actually cackled. “You’re too late.” He injected her with the potion.

  At first, she felt nothing, nothing but relief. Perhaps she’d gotten lucky. It didn’t hurt at all.

  But that didn’t release her from the table, meaning she could only watch as Darius charged the doctor, swinging his blade. Pomme proved more agile than expected and remained out of slicing reach.

  “You don’t want to kill me,” the doctor exclaimed.

  “Actually, I am pretty sure I do. And I’ll bet the princess isn’t feeling too kindly toward you either.” Darius jabbed and almost got the doctor.

  Pomme managed to evade the blow and slapped the wall. The spot turned red and began to pulse.

  “What did you do?” Darius growled, advancing on the doctor.

  “You’ll never leave this place alive.” The statement proved especially ominous given they moved out of sight.

  If only she could get loose. She heard the clang of metal hitting something hard. The grunts of exertion. A sharp cry of pain. Whose cry?

  Her breath came in short pants. Fear filled her. And frustration, too. She was tired of feeling useless. Tired of not being able to act.

  This was her father’s fault. Stifling her power. Making her weak. How could he think leaving her defenseless would save her?

  “Argh!” she yelled in frustration, the emotion feeding a pulse inside. An inner storm of whipping winds and violent potential.

  “Hold on, princess. I’m coming.”

  She tried to tilt her head. When she did see him, she gasped. “What happened?” Blood covered him, and he had one eye swollen shut.

  “Pomme is dead.” Grimly spoken. “We need to get out of here.”

  He grabbed at one manacle and tugged to no avail. “Fucking thing is bolted firmly. Hold on and let me see if I can short the mechanism.” He crouched, and she heard him cussing as he banged around.

  Bzzzt. She felt the electrical shock and tingled head to toe. Even better the bands holding her down retracted. Darius rose into view, still just as bloody. He held out a hand, and she grasped it as he helped her off the bed.

  “We should go. There’s a storm brewing,” he said.

  As he turned from her, his body went rigid, and he slumped to the side. Pomme, not dead after all, stood there holding a simple looking rod. Given how Darius jiggled, it wasn’t that benign.

  “What did you do?”

  “Electric charge. He’ll be fine in a bit. Come with me. We’re not done.” Pomme indicated the door with the zapping rod.

  “You can’t keep me here,” she stated.

  “Apparently, I can, or you’d stop me. Guess you weren’t a good candidate after all.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “That you’re not as strong genetically as we’d hoped.”

  She flinched. Would the power never manifest in her? The hot well inside her turned into the cold, bitter truth.

  “Maybe I need more time.”

  “You have no time,” Pomme declared. “Your kingdom is about to be lost to you. Your people need you.” Funny how he said the very thing that had been plaguing her. Did he read her mind?

  The despair of it filled her, and she could have sworn she heard thunder in this windowless place. “I can’t believe I did this for nothing.”

  She’d put Darius and the crew she’d come to care for in grave danger, and for what? So she could fail once more at being the Aunimaa she needed to be.

  “I wouldn’t say nothing. We have uses for someone of your bloodline. People who will buy the eggs in your womb.”

  The statement helped snap some of her self-pity. “I won’t be your prisoner.”

  “Then stop me,” Pomme dared her. “You won’t because you’re weak. Too weak to save your father. Too weak to save the kingdom. Too weak to even help your lover.”

  Each of those truths hit her like a slap. She seethed and charged the doctor, only to scream as he jabbed her with the rod. The electricity burned as it jolted its way through her. She hit the floor and shivered as her muscles tried to remember how to work.

  “Fucking bastard!” Darius yelled. With a waver to his movements, he rose to his feet and pulled a knife.

  Thunk.

  Given she recognized the sound, she knew better than to look. Then again, maybe she should so she could be sure evil was dead. Perhaps she’d spit on Pomme’s body on the way out the door.

  The pirate offered her a hand. “Let’s get out of here, princess.”

  She laced her fingers with his, and they left that awful room. As they ran down the hall, she began to feel hopeful again.

  Until the alarm sounded. It blared loudly and without pause.

  “That can’t be good,” Darius muttered as he dragged her into the stairwell. The door at the bottom suddenly opened. A pair of soldiers peeked their heads in, saw them poised in the stairwell, and popped back out.

  “Shit, start climbing,” Darius ordered, reversing direction.

  She didn’t understand why until there was a deep bark.

  “Don’t look back,” Darius advised.

  She looked back. Her eyes widened in horror at the gigantic, slavering beast with two heads that came tearing up the stairs behind them. Darius, that brave idiot, shoved her ahead and faced off against the creature, raising a pistol he’d pulled from somewhere and aiming it. He got one of the giant heads, right between its eyes, which only served to anger the other one.

  “Run!” he yelled as he aimed once more, but his next shot missed the head and lodged in the leg, which was probably the only reason why they managed to make it to the rooftop in one unbitten piece.

  They emerged onto a flat surface, dirty with soot and bordered by a knee-high ledge. Nothing to hide behind except for a few rusted machine units that choked and belched smoke.

  Nowhere to go.

  Darius paced to the edge and cursed. “It’s too far to jump to the next building.”

  “Don’t you have that rope thingy?” she asked, recalling the pyramid.

  He shook his head.

  The two-headed beast emerged from the stairwell, dragging its wounded limb. The slavering mouth grinned as if the creature was pleased to see its prey cornered.

  “Stand behind me,” Darius stated, taking up a position as her shield.

  How many times would he come to her rescue? Or would this be the last time?

  He’d thrown his knife. The gun he’d tossed to the side was obviously empty of bullets. He had only his bare hands against the monster, and yet the idiot didn’t seem to care as he faced off with the beast.

  The situation had gone past dire to impossible. Unless she did something.

  She looked around, searching in vain for some kind of tool she could use. Anything.

  There was nothing.

  Not nothing. She looked down at the clenched fists by her sides. She had herself, but what good would that do? She had no power. Or did she? Perhaps it just needed some coaxing.

  As Darius stepped within reach of the monster, she took a deep breath. She could do this. She could find whatever kernel they’d suppressed and—

  The monster bit Darius in the middle and shook him.

  “No!” she wailed.

 
She ran for the thing, screaming, icy fury and hot fear scorching their way through her. The brewing storm within, the one that she sometimes saw in her dreams, swelled too big to be contained.

  It burst from her in a painful torrent, drawing a scream, a never-ending cry that ended up stolen by the hurricane force winds that slammed into the monster, startling it enough that it dropped Darius.

  But the wind wasn’t done. It pushed the beast toward the edge of the roof. When it planted its paws, lightning struck, and she smelled burning flesh. Thunder rolled, and the wind swirled all around. Another wild storm had risen that matched her mood.

  The “aha” moment hit her hard. Everything in that surreal moment paused.

  Another storm as if in response to her emotions. Could it be? Did she control the storm? Only one way to find out.

  Shereen glared with all her simmering rage at the still twitching beast.

  Flash. The bolt of light zagged from the clouds overhead, hit the monster, and sizzled flesh.

  She gaped. It worked. She had power.

  Shereen whirled to tell Darius in time to see the doctor, somehow still not dead, emerging from the stairwell, bearing a strange gun. Pomme aimed it at Darius, who had his back to him and never saw it coming.

  She’d barely screamed, “Duck!” when it was over. The energy beam hit the pirate and turned him into ash.

  Darius was gone. Tears poured from her cheeks as her heart broke.

  Chapter 18

  As Darius exited his room, he swayed at the rocking of his ship. Damned storm! Darius almost broke his neck climbing down the docks. The wind whipped at him, as if trying to convince him to stay on board.

  As if the violently brewing storm would stop him from tracking down Shereen. He wouldn’t let anyone harm her—even if she appeared determined to harm herself.

  He still couldn’t believe he’d woken to her gone. It didn’t help that he woke with a yell, his body tense. In his dream he was being eaten by a monster as she watched. The scream she’d uttered still echoed in his head, but who cared about a nightmare when Shereen had fled while he slept?