I knock, leaning my weight onto the frame. No one comes.
I knock again. I knock harder.
Again.
It’s several more minutes until the door swings open, and a shocked but familiar face meets my gaze.
“Whitley?” he asks.
Bluff
Panic covers the captain’s face as he rises to see the legendary captain Stede aboard his ship. The majority of his crew is surrounded, threatened by pirates with readied weapons.
His bottom lip trembles. His eyes dart around the ship, looking for any way out of this. Any hope they can still come out on top. Before he finally shouts. “Stop!” his shoulders sag in defeat. “Surrender!” he tells his crew.
I can’t help but roll my eyes. Captain Stede is not known for his mercy. Throwing down their weapons will only ensure a quick death.
I’m surprised though when the sailors toss their weapons to the ground with a clank, and the pirates don’t immediately shove their blades into the flesh of their newly disarmed opponents. They wait. I narrow my eyes. What’s he after?
Stede’s eyes turn up towards the helm, towards the captain, Rosemera, and me. It’s only then that I realize I’m the only sailor left holding a sword. Well, me and Rosemera.
I drop my sword with a clank. Anything I do to stand out now will put me in more danger.
After a quick annoyed glance at my delayed sword drop, Stede’s only visible bloodshot eye settles on the captain, then passes us both and settles on a certain brunette. I clench my fists.
“Well, well,” he says, stepping slowly towards her. “Isn’t that a pretty dress,” his speech is slow, almost slurred. Most definitely mocking.
The captain steps in front of Rosemera. “I’m willing to surrender, but I won’t let you touch the lass.”
Stede tilts his head, examining the captain of the little tobacco shipping vessel, his hands and lips shaking in pure terror. His eyes stay pinned on the most notorious pirate of our time, and his boots don't budge.
“Won’t you?” Stede says.
The captain’s breathe hitches.
“Which wench did you steal that pretty thing from anyway, Rosemera?”
Rose crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “It was a gift.”
Now the tobacco captain’s gaze shoots between the two. Between her impressive sword skills and the clear recognition, he must know something isn’t quite what it appeared. Rose isn’t exactly the high-class lass he thought.
“Lady Rose?” he asks her.
I try to catch her attention. Our best bet is going to be in the depths with the sirens. I’ll do whatever I must to keep her safe. Even if it’s a long shot, it’s better than this.
But she doesn’t look to me. I don’t want to give my identity away until I’m half way to the water, out of reach, if I can help it.
“Don’t worry, Captain,” Stede winks, “I won’t hurt her. I just have one condition.”
I narrow my eyes. He’s not one to tease mercy or give hope of survival. He’d rather see his victims squirm. So something is definitely... different, this time around.
“What’s that?” Rose asks for him.
Stede’s smile grows, and my stomach turns. I want to claw his face apart.
“I’m looking for someone in particular. Someone of great worth—perhaps you know who I seek?” He winks.
“Whitley isn’t here, moron,” Rose answers with an eye roll.
“No? Well that’s too bad.” He looks down at his fingernails, casually. “Luckily for you I already knew that. I’m looking for someone else. Someone who was at port with you in Saint Petersburg but didn’t reboard The Freedom. Someone I very much suspect would be nearby a pretty little thing like you.”
Rose narrows her eyes, lifting her lip in disgust. “Bluff isn’t here either. Just pretty little me. Worthless.” She spits at his boots.
“You’re right about that. The worthless part, I mean. Not so much the rest of it.”
His eyes turn to the tobacco ship’s captain, eyeing him. He flicks out a folded blade from inside his jacket. “If you won’t expose yourself, I suppose we must let the games begin.”
He steps towards the trembling Captain Moore, blade forward. “Are you Bluff? He very much likes to impersonate captains.”
Captain Moore shakes his head frantically, stepping away, arms up, begging for mercy. My stomach clenches. I feel awful for the man. It’s my fault he’s face to face with death.
“Leave him alone,” Rosemera calls, still with her arms crossed. Annoyed but not afraid.
Stede begins laughing heartily, and I turn to see a dark spot forming between Captain Moore’s legs. I groan as Stede’s laugh grows into hysterics. “Well, that’s one way to know for sure you’re not who I’m seeking.” He bends over laughing, and I use the moment to catch Rosemera’s gaze. I nod towards the railing, towards the water. Her eyebrows pull down in confusion.
Stede turns to her, then to me. I flinch, the first time his attention is really on me. He considers me for a few long seconds.
Then he straightens, wipes tears from beneath his eyes. “The fat one?” he muses to himself. “That would be an interesting choice.” But his sight turns back to Rosemera—the last person aboard, aside from the invaders, still holding a sword. She narrows her eyes. “I could threaten this coward of a captain to force a reaction. But it crosses my mind that there’s a much better way.”
He takes one step towards Rosemera before I blurt out. “Wait.”
Stede smiles. “You’re so achingly predictable, Bluff.” He turns to me. “Won’t even let me have a little fun before surrendering? At least this pathetic crew did that much.”
“And you don’t think half the casualties you sustained weren’t by my blade?” I wink at him.
He clenches his jaw. “Show yourself,” he says, all amusement gone from his voice.
I consider refusing. But there’s no question he’ll uncover the truth one way or another, and I’m not intent on giving him the opportunity to harm Rosemera. The more his attention is on me, the better.
My skin ripples with magic, and in a moment, I’ve shrunk down to my usual size, with my usual silver hair and eyes. “Happy?” I ask, feeling as if I’ve shed an uncomfortably heavy coat.
“Not one bit,” he says, his eyes boring into mine. Clearly, I have an effect on him. He’s irrational and angry. I quite like the change. It illustrates how much power I have over him.
“We have unfinished business,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. “My revenge is coming, boy. Don’t you dare think otherwise. It won’t come in this form, though. I have something much better in store.”
I hold in my breath, eyes steady, knowing exactly what he intends.
He won’t physically hurt me. He’ll hurt Whitley. Then he’ll use her to hurt me.
It didn’t work out in his favor last time, what with the whole destroyed ship and all, but I doubt he’ll make that mistake again. Their mistake was obvious—my mother let her pride get the better of her when she allowed me to hold Whitley as her transformation was still taking place—in shallow water at that. She didn’t finish the job before celebrating. Fool.
I’m certain my mother will find a way to force Whitley back under her control—firmly, this time. The last time, our love and passion were too close to the surface. If I weren’t an absolute moron, it still would be.
I can still undo what I’ve done. I have to believe I can pull her back. My stomach twists.
“Fall back!” Stede shouts suddenly. The pirates below relax their stances and immediately retreat back to their shiny new ship. “Until then.” He bows to me, sword and eyes glinting.
I swallow as they retreat, without even so much as a scratch on us. Rosemera silently steps up next to me. We stand shoulder to shoulder, watching them sail away.
“What the hell just happened?” she asks.
“I’ve got no clue.”
Bluff
The crew of Captain M
oore’s tobacco ship spends several silent minutes watching in awe as the black sails glide away. More than a few shiver in corners, still not intent on coming out from their hiding. Finally, a select few begin aiding the injured.
I turn back to the captain. “Go, get changed quickly. Most of the crew didn’t see. Then come out as the leader you are,” I tell him, noting the still obvious wet spot between his legs.
“Who the hell are you?”
I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“You’re the reason they came! I should toss you to the sharks now and be done with it!”
I take in a long annoyed breath.
Rosemera steps forward, “Listen, Charles—”
“And you!” he shouts, pointing into her face. “I don’t even want to know the truth about you. Are you one of them? You have to be, don’t you? And to think I was going to...”
Rosemera’s face falls in an instant. I grit my teeth. His coward behind is going to take our generous help and like it. And he’s certainly not going to take away Rosemera’s hope at love.
I pull the captain to his feet by his collar. “Shut the hell up,” I tell him. His eyes grow wide, his mouth hanging open. He’s certainly not over his shock. “Did you already forget that she saved you? How easy would it have been for her to let them snuff out your pathetic life before acting? It would have been easier for her if you died. She chose to save your sorry ass.”
A few of the crew below have turned to watch the argument.
The captain’s breathing hitches, hands back to shaking. “She and I could take over this ship easier than you can steer a ship into port. But we won’t. We are sparing your lives over and over and over again, and you’re going to be grateful for it.” I spit the words, anger and determination laced into every word.
He nods.
“Good. Now go change your clothes and be the captain you’re supposed to be.”
He swallows and works to catch his breath.
I lean in and whisper into his ear, “You saw my ability, right?”
He nods rapidly.
I stand him up and wipe his shoulders. “Do you wonder why Stede assumed you were me?” I say the words slow and casually. “Imagine how easy it would be for me to kill you”—I look him right in the eye—“dump your body and take your place.”
He stops breathing.
“Remember that, and in less than two days, we’ll be in New York. You’ll have your cargo, your ship, your life, and you mustn’t see us again.”
I lean back, pat him on the back and push him on his way.
Whitley
My limbs shiver and teeth chatter as I step into the hot soapy water.
“The master is quite worried about you, lamb.”
I don’t respond to the maid helping me into the bath. All I can think is how much I am certainly not a lamb. A wolf, if anything. That thought sends a jolt of pain through my body. Anxiety curls in my stomach as I think through all the things I’ve done. Every memory of the last few days is a flash of an image, a boom of pain, a rush of fear or hope and desire. I swallow.
I killed men and I liked it.
I think that makes it worse.
Jeb was shocked to find me at his doorstep. I was fairly surprised myself.
How I made my way back here of all places... I’m not even sure. It’s hard to focus. Hard to remember why I shouldn’t be here, but somehow I know it’s true. Where should I be? I wonder. Home with father?
No, he betrayed me.
I shake my head, unable to work it all out. All I know is that when I saw Jeb’s face, my body relaxed and I didn’t even know why. His arms wrapped around me so protectively even though I could hardly remember who he was. I felt safe, for the first time in days, at least.
I know I know him. I know I know this place. But the memories are scattered. Bits and pieces come to the front of my mind, in between these urges I can hardly control.
The pain is heaviest.
“Are you sure you don’t need a doctor, milady?”
I swallow and look down at the wound in my shoulder. Its red all around with stretches of uneven skin, but it’s closed. Not gaping the way it was before. The muscle is still weak, I can feel that much. Torn from the inside.
“No, no doctor necessary,” I say through a wince.
She nods and grabs a sponge and soap and begins a soft scrubbing of my scum-covered skin. I close my eyes, letting the warmth of the water seep into my body. Soon, it’s musky brown.
The maid servant leaves the room to let me soak for a while, and minutes later she returns. “Master Jeb is quite worried. He hasn’t stopped pacing outside the door the whole time. Are you ready to talk to him yet, miss?”
I sigh. “You can let him in.”
Her eyes grow wide. “In here? While you’re bathing? I meant...”
“Is there something wrong?” I ask, not even bothering to care about her concerns.
“Why don’t we get you dressed first?” she says cheerily, politely prompting the proper course of action.
I shake my head. “There’s nothing to see,” I say, realizing she’s worried about my nakedness. I’d forgotten the rules of this society. They seem so silly now. “I am no longer concerned with my reputation. That ship has sailed, I’m afraid.” Or relieved, whichever. Besides, the water is so thick with muck and blood he couldn’t see a thing over than my bare shoulders. I suppose even that’s too much for these people.
She swallows and nods nervously.
A moment later, Jeb pushes through the door like a horse at a starting gate. He rushes in and then freezes. “Whitley?” he says again. I hold back a chuckle. He’s been so eager to see me and that’s all he can think to say?
“Jeb,” I say, much more coherent than our last conversation, in which I could only manage to mutter.
“What happened to you? I’ve been so worried.” He looks me over, and his cheeks turn bright red as he realizes I’m completely naked.
His eyes settle on the uneven reddened skin of my shoulder. “Are you all right? What happened?” Finally, his panic seems to dissipate, and he kneels down beside me.
“Too much,” I say bitterly. Images flash through my mind. Here, in this place, the older memories are more vivid, and the most recent seem... impossible. I’m not sure I could answer his questions if I wanted to. What few truths I do have—like how most of this blood is not my own—I do not intend to divulge to him of all people.
I look up to intricate design on the ceiling, gaze drifting down to the clean marble stone along the floor and walls. How did I go from this life, future wife to Jeb Harrison, to murdering scumbag criminals in the slums? Then retreating to the water like some kind of half-beast? What am I?
Siren, the answer washes through me.
I close my eyes, trying to achieve the impossible task of putting the scattered pieces of this puzzle together.
A ship sails through clear blue water.
A storm rises over the horizon.
A beautiful silver-haired boy smiles at me while a warm comforting wind blows through his hair.
Water and magic suffocate me. Rage and terror filling every limb.
Power. So much power.
I open my eyes, realizing I’m digging myself deeper into the depths of my own mind. I cannot possibly navigate it. I’ll only lose myself more.
“I don’t remember much,” I admit.
“Do you remember me?” he whispers. I look up into his big brown eyes. The kindness is overwhelming. He was once my only friend.
“Yes,” I say. Though it’s a half truth. I don’t remember details. None of them.
“Do you remember the last time you saw me?”
I squint my face, concentrating. “No,” I whisper, desperately.
He brushes my wet hair back gently. “We were at a ball. We danced, and that was the last time I saw you.”
I grit my teeth. I don’t remember it.
“I can tell you what I know, if you’d li
ke to hear it.”
I nod, resting my head against the cold porcelain and looking up at him.
“It was after your father had taken you away, fled New York to some southern town without my knowledge. I was scared for you. He apparently owed debts to the mob, who intended to collect.” He looks down at his hands. “You were gone for over a week, but you somehow managed to come back on a ship. “He looks up, meeting my eye with a sad smile. “We announced our engagement just before my father’s ball that weekend, but there were some... unwelcome guests. They came looking for you. I never saw you again, so I couldn’t be sure whether they’d found you or not.”
I suck in a breath. Trying to picture it.
“Do you know who they were?” he prompts gently.
“I remember the mob chasing father and me out of the city.” I swallow. “The rest is fuzzy. You say I came back on a ship?” Is that the ship from my memory fragment?
He nods.
Engagement. Ball. Unwelcomed guests. “What did they look like?” I ask. “The ‘unwelcomed guests’?”
He pursues his lips. “Like I might image the mob to look. Unkempt hair, dirty skin and clothes. Tattoos. A few of them had golden earrings. One man had a long velvet jacket with golden buttons and black feathered hat.”
“Stede,” I whisper.
“You know him?”
I breathe in deeply.
They weren’t the mob. They were pirates.
Bluff
By the morning the deck is cleared of the bodies, sails are reset, and the ship is moving towards its destination with a new fervor. The captain seems intent on reaching port and being rid of us as quickly as possible.
This pleases me greatly.
I have much to be eager for myself.
The captain doesn’t speak to either of us for the rest of the trip. Though Rosemera attempts to keep some semblance of her reputation as a lady, rather than a pirate. I watch her eyeing the crow’s nest and consider telling her she could go now. No one would stop her.
Bound by the Depths Page 8