Page 40 of Bloody Black

“ I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day,” Xandretta ropes the helm in place, due north. “Next island, let’s put in.”

“Agreed. Storm’s over! Back to work,” Teach shouts at the crew.

Subdued, they shuffle back to their places, occasionally darting glances over their shoulders at me. No one, young or old, missed the red mist and violet magic show. And of course, they’re all attributing both of those to me, the legendary Blackbeard.

“You should get some sleep, Captain,” Xandretta orders, nudging me with an elbow. “Go, tuck in.”

I need to talk to Prudence, to thank her for saving him, but I don’t argue. I don’t have it in me. The exhaustion is bone-deep, a weight dragging at my limbs. I give a brief nod, relinquishing control of the ship, and head below deck.

I don’t make it halfway to the ladder before I hear his footsteps .

“Piss off, Lieutenant,” I say it without ire. The last thing I want is to be around him again. I have zero energy to explain, to relive, to let him dissect the things I barely understand myself.

I hop down the last few rungs and stride toward the stateroom. His— no, my —room. The door has a lock. That should keep him out.

I shut the door firmly and press my back against it, exhaling a slow, uneven breath. My pulse is a storm in my veins, a crackling, restless thing that refuses to settle. I won’t think about him, how it felt to watch him fall, how terror gripped my heart…

No, I definitely do not want to think about that.

His bed calls to me, the promise of sleep too strong to ignore.

Just a few hours. A few hours of oblivion.

Some peace, quiet, and a feather pillow will put things right.

The lantern above swings gently with the ship’s motion, spilling shifting shadows across the walls like restless ghosts.

The velvet curtains are drawn, so the entire room is bathed in darkness.

The soft click of the handle shatters that hope. Robb enters the bedroom, shutting the door behind himself.

“I locked that.”

“It jams. Hasn’t worked in years.”

He holds up both palms when I turn toward him, ready to draw my dagger. “I just need five minutes.”

Instead of throwing myself onto the bed, dragging a pillow over my face, as I would truly like to do, I lean back against his desk. Feigning boredom. “Fine. Speak.”

“Do you bark orders to keep people in line or to keep them away?”

Goddammit. I tried to save his life, humiliated myself, and this is the thanks I receive. I tilt my head back and stare at the wood-beamed ceiling. “I’m giving you one question before I throw you out. Is that the one you really want to ask?”

“Tell me about that crimson mist.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know what I saw.”

“You’re confused. Hit your head pretty hard when you landed.”

“You sent red mist after me. But you’re human. Non-magical. The witch, I can understand. The djinn, the demon, the Fae… but not you. How did you do that?”

“How soon can I persuade you to leave?”

He’s silent, waiting for a better answer, one I’m unwilling to give.

“Can’t you just forget about it?” I say at last.

“Not until you answer me.”

I push off the desk, shaking my head. “I’ll answer your questions when hell freezes over, Lieutenant .”

His expression doesn’t change, but something shifts in his eyes. They’re suddenly sharper. Calculating. “How did you become a pirate? After the attack, what happened?”

“That’s none of your concern.” I don’t want to talk about the crew, the ship. I don’t want to talk, period. I want him to leave. Immediately.

“So far, you’re not answering any of my questions. Why would you rescue me?”

“Because I’m full of surprises. Now, can you kindly go? ”

My arms cover my chest as we stare each other down. I cannot bear being in a room with him right now. Robb Maynard, William’s humble servant, unsettles me. Makes me uneasy. Nervous in a way I’ve never been before.

With a groan, I scrub a hand down my face. “I’m tired, Robb.”

“Then sleep.”

I huff a bitter laugh. “With you breathing down my neck? In my room?”

“It is my room,” he reminds me. “Which you are currently in.”

His gaze flicks to the right, to the feather mattress and rumpled silk sheets. “Sleeping in my bed.” He glances down at the floor. “Wearing my clothes.”

For some unfathomable reason, his voice seems lower. “Why would you wear my shirts, Blackbeard?”

My pulse trips. Almost immediately, I lecture myself internally.

You knew you shouldn ’ t have done that. Of course, you didn ’ t realize he ’ d find out. It ’ s not my fault they ’ re such high quality. And they remind me of home. Which I cannot possibly admit, because that would mean talking about my background. And who I really am.

“You know what? If you’re going to stay, I’ll go.” I shake my head angrily, striding past him toward the door, and behind me I hear Robb getting to his feet.

“Where are you going to go? We’re on a boat in the middle of the ocean.”

He’s right; he’ll be on my mind no matter what I do.

Lieutenant Robb Maynard haunts me in my sleep, in the silence of my thoughts, in the nooks and crannies where I’ve locked such things away.

He’s so deep inside my brain, I cannot pluck him out.

Like his gaze, like his damnable scent, this unbearable anxiety trails after me like a ghost.

“Wait.” He’s following me. “Don’t leave.”

“Why not?” My hand is on the knob, but I hesitate. It feels like he’ll do something. Grab my wrist, demand answers I won’t give, something. Yet, he doesn’t. A frustrating heat curls in my stomach. I grit my teeth, trying to breathe through it.

“Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?” I press my forehead to the door.

“Yes. My mother, actually.”

A sharp laugh escapes before I can stop it. Real, unguarded, and dangerous. Robb places his palm next to my head, standing far too close for comfort. And now I’ve stupidly saved his life, in front of my crew, and he’s in my bedroom.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

What I really mean is we shouldn’t be here. Together. Alone. Again. Because I’m suddenly thinking of that interlude in the galley, of the taste of his lips.

Desire thrums in my veins. I turn to face him. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

“I’m a rebel.”

With a laugh, I shake my head softly. “I shouldn’t have let you live.”

“Indeed. It was very irresponsible.”

Another laugh tumbles from my lips. Too fast for me to stop it.

“I must say, when William sent me to kill Blackbeard, this…” His green eyes scan mine. “…was not what I imagined. ”

He means female.

“Yes, well. The sight of a woman’s breasts does tend to make men into beasts.”

“I’m not looking at those. Although, they are lovely.”

It’s true. He isn’t. He’s looking at my eyes. Even though they are only hazel-brown. And my mouth, as if he’s thinking about kissing it again. A terrible thing, since I am most certainly thinking of kissing him. My gaze is pulled to that divot in his lower lip, how soft it appears.

Pirate’s Code: Don’t swim in shark-filled waters. Especially not with your heart on your sleeve.

That thought makes me twinge uncomfortably, so I look away, toward the wall of glass panes where the sun glints on the sea. “I’ve cut men like you apart. Chopped them up and sent them to your king.”

“Congratulations. You’re an accomplished murderer. Fearless in the face of storms. Yet, you run from me.”

My throat works, struggles to swallow. “I’m not running from you.”

Robb shifts a step closer, leaning further in. “Perhaps it was the word bed .” He enunciates it perfectly. “The idea of not being alone in one.”

Something inside me writhes uncomfortably. “Tell me what it is you are hoping to get from me, and get out.”

He reaches forward and wraps one of my dark curls around his finger, as if he’s fascinated by how untamed they are. Like they are the missing piece to a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “I don’t sleep well tied to a wooden beam. I miss my pillow. I miss my sheets. I miss lovely, soft things.”

His words seize my bones. Am I that? Am I a lovely, soft thing? Maybe some part of me remains, buried underneath? Is that what he sees?

Tension tightens in my belly, my mouth goes dry. “You just want to fuck me.” I chew my bottom lip, unsure if I’m more pissed off or turned on, my eyes glued to the sea outside.

“Half pound here, half pound there.” His thumb trails over my jaw. “But you can’t blame me. Not when something so deadly is this beautiful.”

“A gentleman would court me first. Woo me.” To my absolute horror, my voice sounds breathless. Feminine. Interested. Weak.

“I’ll do both, if you’ll agree.”

“What am I agreeing to, precisely?”

The air between us is thick and hot, and his mouth is mere breaths from mine. He’s unbound, looming over me, and yet I haven’t begun panicking. I feel tempted, somehow, even though he’s my enemy. He’s fishing with a pretty lure, hoping I’ll gobble up his hook. Like an idiot, I’m still interested.

The old me would have thrown herself in his arms immediately. And the new me apparently isn’t lasting much longer.

I grumble internally. If nothing else, being a pirate has taught me men’s games. How they steal, cheat, and kill. Pirates know never to show their hand, not until they’ve won.

Blackbeard would be able to seduce him. Hell, even the most untrained spy could manage that. Blackbeard would find a path, wouldn’t she ?

I shift my eyes back to him, gaze up at him through lowered lashes. “We do this my way, Lieutenant.”

His face is pure surprise. He has no idea what my way even means, but he nods decisively. “If your way means I get to touch you, taste you, kiss you again… I am yours to command. However you like. Whatever you want.”

If I overthink it, I’ll back down. If I think about it at all, I’ll panic. But I am Blackbeard. I’m the captain, I’m in control, I’m deciding what happens. I am completely in charge of the situation. If I don’t like it, I’ll kill him. Easily.