Page 24 of Bloody Black

T he newly named Queen Anne’s Revenge cuts through the swell effortlessly, the hull slicing through the waves like a knife through butter. Her glorious sails fill with the wind, pristine and white, and edged in gilt. Not a patch to be seen.

William’s prize ship, officially stolen by the pirate Blackbeard.

A laugh bubbles from my lips.

I can hardly imagine William’s face. Would he wonder if I was alive?

Would he think that Blackbeard knows the truth?

Does he think of me at all? Or does he, like everyone else, assume my body still lies in that trunk, resting on the bottom of the harbor?

The need to hurt him, plague him, is the drumbeat of my heart, the course of my blood.

I want him to suffer. Fiercely. These specific desires burn in me like an unquenchable fire.

“She is beauty… She is grace.” Samson pats the mast.

“She will put you in your place,” says Holly .

Prudence does a little dance, waving her hands around. “She will shoot you in the face.”

“You’re the prey she loves to chase,” I sing out.

“And then she shall dance upon your grave,” Teach retorts.

“Grave doesn’t rhyme with face,” Domino announces. “You lose.”

Xandretta looks at Teach with pity. “There are hundreds of words that rhyme with grace.”

Teach curses and frowns. “That’s funny, I thought you were a djinn, not a dictionary.”

We all laugh. Having a new ship, and such a decisive victory, has put us in a fantastic mood. I haven’t been this happy in years.

“You’re enjoying this too much.” Robb’s voice is rough, accusing, as he tests the ropes at his wrists. “Ever hear the phrase, won the battle, lost the war ?”

“No.” I smile and take another swig of Runner’s Rum.

One wrong move, and I’d string him up alongside Roger. One wrong move, and we’d make him walk the plank. Out here in the middle of the ocean, with high winds and rough seas, he’d most certainly drown.

“Damn it, that hurts!” Teach curses, causing us both to startle.

He’s leaning on a sugarcane barrel, and Xandretta is carving a new tattoo into his arm.

A massive rose, in memory of the ship we left behind.

It’s flawless, every petal is perfect, because Xandretta can draw anything.

She spends most of her days perched on the rail, documenting our lives, charcoal flying across the parchment.

She can draw a full landscape, with mermaids, whales, and fish, in strong seas.

As such, her hands are perfectly steady.

“Don’t be a baby,” she hisses at him, her needle-like teeth gleaming in the sunlight. “Hold still.”

Across the deck, Samson is reading.

Roger, mercifully, has gone quiet. Sunlight glances off the swells in sharp, dazzling shards, the water shifting from deep blue to green as we cut north through gentle seas. It’s a beautiful day, with glorious weather for sailing, and I swear that nothing can ruin my good mood… until he speaks.

“So. You’re the scourge Blackbeard? A pirate?”

“I already confirmed that.”

“Sorry, I’m just having trouble believing it.” Maynard glances around the ship, his gaze skimming the quarterdeck, the mast. Roger’s corpse swaying in the wind. “Do you always steal ships?”

“Only when I want them very badly. Otherwise, I can’t be bothered.”

His eyes narrow. “They say you’ve killed hundreds of men. Why?”

“They deserved it.”

He shakes his head. “So, it isn’t a lie?”

My eyebrow lifts. “Why would it be?”

“I’m… just in disbelief.”

Because I’m a woman. Supposedly sweet. Interested only in delicate things.

Annoyed, I stand, approach, and I lift his chin with the dagger’s point, making sure that he can feel how sharp it is.

“I want you to tell me William’s plans, Lieutenant.

” I might have said more, but the lieutenant gives me a slow, crafty smile, which momentarily distracts me from the rest of it.

“Oh. So that’s why you’ve kept me alive. ”

“I apologize. I should have been more obvious.” My gaze searches his face, taking in the broad plane of his jaw, his nose, his eyes.

He waits patiently, his anticipation apparent.

Irritation bubbles in my breast. Everything I know about William is outdated by weeks, maybe months. None of my spies have anything new.

“Be useful to me, Maynard. Give me what I need, or here you’ll remain, tied to the mast. If you don’t, I’ll tie an anchor to your leg, toss you in the sea, and let you sink.”

“Forewarned is forearmed, I suppose.”

Robb squints in the bright sunlight. “They say you have fourteen wives.”

“Not that I recall.” I drag the dagger down from his chin in a slow, taunting line, then sheath it. Putting some distance between us, I sit on the rail, crossing one booted ankle over another. “Have you ever met a man named Soren?”

He pauses just long enough to make me suspicious. “Not that I recall.”

My lips purse. I cannot tell if he’s lying. Is he? “Don’t toy with me, Maynard.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Unless you asked me to. Obviously.”

My lips twitch. He’s quick-witted, this one.

Robb appraises me again. “If I give you information, will you let me go?”

“If it’s good information, sure. Where William keeps his fleet. Which ports he favors. What ship he’s most afraid to lose.” I smile amiably. “Seems like an even trade.”

“And you ask so nicely.” His mask of charm is as thin as a flounder; he’s radiating animosity. Robb leans his head back against the mast. “As much as I’m a sucker for a woman in leather, what makes you think I’ll tell you anything?”

I glance sidelong, aware of the crew watching us. Xandretta’s tattoo needle has stilled; Teach is frowning. They don’t trust him. I don’t either. That’s why he’ll stay tied up, here on the quarterdeck.

Prudence and Domino stroll over, then stand beside me. Their posture is relaxed, loose. The lieutenant is not our first captive, and he certainly won’t be our last.

“How long have you known William?” Prudence asks abruptly, and I can tell the question surprises him.

“ King William.” Robb is nothing if not proper. “I’ve sailed for him for about six months.”

“As his lieutenant, you should know where his other ships are at all times.”

“Are you planning to steal those, too?” He’s clearly unwilling to sell his king’s secrets. Too bad. For him, that is.

“Possibly.”

A quiet challenge lies hidden in the curve of his mouth. I can feel the heat of his gaze, studying me like I’m a pile of puzzle pieces. He barely looks at Prudence or Domino, despite the fact that both are much more scantily clad.

“Let’s be clear,” Prudence picks her fingernails with a dagger’s point. “As long as you provide information, you get to live. So you’d better make it interesting.”

“I like you,” Domino announces suddenly, giving Lieutenant Maynard a winning smile. “You have kind eyes. ”

“That is the first time anyone has ever said that to me.” He replies to her, but his green eyes remain on me. Questioning.

“Don’t be flattered. She also likes knives. Men and knives.” Prudence slings an arm around Domino’s shoulders.

“Think about what I said, Lieutenant.” I stroll away without a backward glance. Once I’m out of sight and downstairs on the main deck, I let out a slow breath, rolling my shoulders as I join the larger group of sailors. A strange tightness grips my chest, and I rub at it absently.

“Handsome, isn’t he?” Holly’s tone is light, but her interest is obvious.

Several heads pivot to glance over at us. Which, of course, is annoying. I can’t have my crew having romantic fantasies about our captive.

“He’d be better looking with my blade in his gullet.”

I climb up onto the railing, swing my feet over the side of the ship, and take a seat.

Xandretta and Domino stand behind us, holding teak and iron rods, hoping to catch enough fish for dinner. A line sails out over the ocean, sinks into the depths, then Domino places the fishing pole into one of the iron loops screwed into the railing.

“He’s a liability.” Rokhur’s red mist cascades over the deck. The demon looks well–she’s scraped through several corpses, and since those were fresh, she has more meat than normal across her bones. Her eyes glow red, though, and I have to repress a shudder.

“I can handle them. And if I can’t, you can.” Prudence makes a show of drawing her knife across her neck, and we all laugh .

“I don’t know. A good fucking might keep them in line,” Domino drawls, wiggling her eyebrows as she settles in next to me.

“Glad to hear you’re volunteering.” I thread a line into a fishing hook with a scowl.

“If we keep—keep—keeping alive—” Mercy is obviously aggravated by our guests; her stutter is worse than it’s ever been.

Prudence puts an arm around her. “If one of those bastards even smiles at you, I’ll cut them into small pieces. Feet first.”

On that, at least, we agree. The last thing we need is Mercy having a panic attack and another emotional breakdown. She has no control of her magic in the best of circumstances, and we don’t need her sinking us.

Once the fishing rod is settled in its place, I tug a piece of wood out of my pocket and then start carving on it with an ivory-handled knife.

“What will you do, after you’ve burned it all down?” Xandretta asks, swinging her feet.

“Dance in the ashes. That’s what I’d do.” Domino blows a smoke ring into the air.

I take a long swig of rum, then cough. “I’d build my own ship. One with no leaks.” I think of The Flying Rose , abandoned behind us. “Hopefully.”

Prudence scoffs. “Why build one when you could steal one?”

“I like it. A new ship for your new life.” Xandretta inspects her long black nails, picking pieces of fish from under them. “Though you’ll be too busy being queen to use it, I would think. ”

Prudence is trying to light a cigarette, near impossible in the strong breeze. “It always seemed to me that royalty wear chains. Just like the djinn, they can neither do nor go where they please.”