Page 47 of Bloody Black

“ A ll this time, you could have picked the lock?” Robb sounds pissed. “Seriously?”

“Would you have preferred I’d used it sooner?”

Robb yanks me by one arm, pulls me against his chest. “No. I wouldn’t. But fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, tread carefully.”

He’s even better looking when he’s angry. All that tanned skin and black hair, his eyes the color of the sea. He’s flushed, and his hand still smells like sex . Like me.

My tongue wets my lips. “If you expected honesty, you’re talking to the wrong woman. Now kindly release me, Lieutenant , or I will gut you like a tuna.”

He glances down between our bodies to find my dagger just under his ribs. He blinks slowly, clearly surprised.

I’m full of those.

“Where’d you get that knife?” he asks .

We’re so close I feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of his shirt, watching his chest rise with slow, controlled fury. “My boot. You might consider thanking me, by the way.”

Robb leans in, pressing me against the bars of the cell, his muscular thigh between my legs. He kisses me. Kisses me, his mouth hot and demanding. When I gasp, his tongue touches mine, and I’m so surprised that I drop the dagger. It clatters between our feet.

“Thank you,” he breathes, bending his head to nuzzle my neck, to suck my earlobe.

Damn, he feels amazing. I’m getting distracted all over again, and we have yet to even leave the room. I swallow hard. Twice. “Robb?”

“Mmm. Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can you stop calling me that?”

“Do I have to?”

Argh . I groan, suddenly grumpy. “If we’re going to take back our ship and get out of here, I need you to be focused.”

Robb grumbles, the vibration tingling against my chest. After a brief pause, he steps back, releasing me. He reaches down and adjusts himself, grimacing.

I set about picking the lock, but I can’t help noticing that there’s an absolutely massive bulge tenting Robb’s pants. The temptation to reach out and touch, to examine it, is mind-bending. “I can’t believe you’re turned on again,” I say instead, shoving the cell door open.

“It’s a constant problem, whenever you’re around. ”

“Really?” I feel a burst of feminine pride, completely foreign, and grin at him stupidly. Then I look down at his cock again, because I cannot help it.

He chuckles. “While I’m profoundly flattered by the expression on your face, now is not the time to play.”

I’m about to say something else, some snide remark about his pride, when Holly strolls around the corner and draws up short.

“Out so soon?” She doesn’t reach for her weapon, even though I expect her to. The flintlock remains in her belt, polished silver and untouched.

“It would have been thirty seconds, but we got to talking.” Robb lies easily, as if he were born to do it.

I can’t decide whether to be impressed or bothered by that.

Holly smirks at the two of us. “I’ll bet you did.”

I fight the urge to smile back. She did, after all, allow a mutiny to happen. “How many voted against me?” I say instead, needing to know exactly just how narrow Prudence’s majority actually was.

“102.”

One hundred and two. That’s how many of my crew chose her leadership over mine. The Queen Anne’s Revenge is currently crewed by 182, which means that just eighty voted for me. All of them were my sailors, people I’d fought for, slept beside, laughed with.

“All of his men were with you,” she says, winking at Robb.

“Do you have names? A written account?” Because I’d really like to know who I’ll have to get rid of, and who might stab me in the back again.

Holly shakes her head emphatically. “Of course not.”

I don’t believe her. Not really. She knows exactly who voted against me, and the only reason she won’t say it is because she knows what I’ll do to them.

“You know, Teach and I fought for you. We tried to convince them.”

“I’ll find out eventually,” I tell her. “Traitors must die. That is the code.”

“If you’d only been here, it never would have happened. It was because you were on land, away.”

At Soren’s townhouse. In his study. The knife and his hand wrapped around mine. I shudder, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that grips me.

Robb clears his throat. The look he gives me clearly says: You really want to do this now?

He’s right. If we don’t hurry, Prudence and the crew will leave this rock, take the Queen Anne , and steer my ship away from this island. This is not the right place nor the time to be tallying up the betrayers.

I draw a deep breath. Later. Later.

We crouch just beyond the door, breath shallow, tucked against the stones like children playing at war. In the next room, there is the rhythmic lull of conversation, the occasional barked order.

Robb leans close, his voice low. “Go slow. Blend in. If we’re lucky, we reach her before anyone realizes we’re loose.”

“And if not?” I whisper.

“Improvise.”

Holly gives me the smallest nod. “Surprise them if you can. If you go too early—”

“Then Prudence will shoot us where we stand,” I finish grimly. “I know.”

“Wait for my signal,” I mutter, resolving not to look at him again. I rise, inch the door open just enough to peer through.

And I lock eyes with a man standing two feet away.

“Oi! They’re out!” shouts another. “Blackbeard’s loose!”

“So much for the plan,” Robb says, leaping from the shadows.

Everything explodes into action as we swarm into their meeting. As if we’d planned a coordinated attack, half the crew draws weapons, vicious and unrestrained, as if they’ve been counting the days until they could kill us.

Sailors flood the area, surrounding us on all sides.

Robb disarms someone readily, stealing their sword.

“Blackbeard!” Teach’s roar cuts through the chaos.

A flash of silver whistles past my ear, so close it slices a strand of hair from my head.

I spin just in time to see the blade bury itself in the bulging eye of a man lunging for me, his teeth bared in a mad snarl.

He goes down hard, twitching once before falling still.

Teach doesn’t even break stride, already reaching for another blade, lips pulled back in a murderous grin.

Off to my right, Robb fights like a man possessed, cutting down three men as if they are made of paper. Completely focused, maddeningly calm, his form is near flawless.

If I wasn’t fighting off multiple people trying to kill me, I’d kiss him.

Some use swords. Knives. Every now and then, there’s the crack of gunfire and a puff of acrid smoke, but luckily, most of the crew don’t want to waste their bullets .

One of the sailors turns toward me, eyes wide, blade trembling at his side. For half a second, I think he might lower it. I don’t wait to find out. My sword finds his throat before he even raises his.

Quick. Painless. Efficient. A good death. I don’t need them to suffer.

The tide turns. We’re winning. I feel it in the crew’s shouts, in the crack of steel against steel. The Queen Anne is my ship again; my name floats on the wind, my blade in command.

I’m halfway across the room, the floor is slick with blood, and I nearly lose my footing as I pivot, blade arcing upward to parry a wild overhead strike.

My attacker stumbles, off balance, and I ram my elbow into his throat before slashing low across his thigh.

He crumples, howling, and another rushes me—a skinny old man with terror in his eyes and a blade far too big for his grip.

I almost hesitate. Almost. My sword flashes again. He drops. No time to think.

Strike left. Parry right. Duck. Slash. Spin. I fend off attackers from all sides.

Meanwhile Robb fights his way through the crowd, a knife through butter.

Here and there, I catch a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye.

He’s ruthless, efficient—I’ve never seen someone fight like him.

If I had to compare, he seems most like Prudence.

Theirs is a quick, cold brutality, unhesitating and unfeeling.

This, too, does not match what I know of him.

Even as I watch, he fells man after man, slitting their throat and moving on to the next.

He clearly does not intend to leave anyone standing.

Somewhat irritated by the revelation, I am nevertheless relieved that he doesn’t seem to need my help .

Now I can focus on my own battling.

But when I hear a wounded shout, thinking it’s Robb, I turn, worried…only to see Holly collapse.

When I scream, Robb is instantly at my side, reaching for me, but I run for Holly like a mad bull, hacking and cutting and stabbing. I’m blind with rage as I shove through the sea of moving bodies.

“Holly! Holly!” I can’t even see her anymore, because there are so many men fighting.

Someone grabs at my arm—I don’t look to see who it is. I wrench free, slicing my blade backward and feeling the satisfying slip of metal through body. Blood sprays my cheek, hot and copper-smelling, but I keep going. I don’t have time to care. The only thing I can think of is her.

Holly.

Her scream is still ringing in my ears, shrill and terrified, swallowed by the bellowing cries of dying men.

Someone crashes into me from the side, knocking the breath from my lungs. I slam my dagger into his neck, and he gurgles, slumping to the ground. Another figure barrels past, shoulder-checking me, but I don’t stop. I can’t. My legs are burning, my heart pounding like a war drum.

“Holly!” I shout again, more like a plea this time. There’s blood in my mouth, maybe mine, maybe not. I stumble into a gap in the melee, eyes scanning frantically. There, a flicker of crimson hair, caught in a tangle of armored limbs. She’s on the floor. Not moving.

“Move,” I snarl, forcing my way through bodies, blade first .

When I finally—finally—reach her, I am on my knees. “Holly.”

Her wide brown eyes blink up at me. Doe’s eyes. My freckle-faced friend.

I press my hands to her wound, crimson already soaking her shirt. It’s warm beneath my fingers, spreading across her pale chest. Her blood is everywhere, pooling beneath my feet.

I press my palm to her chest like it’ll matter, like I can stop the tide.

“Please.” Forehead against hers, my breath comes in ragged sobs.

The fight roars on behind me, yet all I can hear is the thunder of my own heartbeat. Together, we are the center of the chaos, cradling the silence between us like it’s sacred.

Too late. Too late . Oh gods, I’m…

Teach drops beside me. “Holly?”

“I’m fine,” she says weakly.

He sees the moment something in me calcifies. The exact second the grief turns into something colder, heavier. Not sorrow. Vengeance. My hands are soaked in her blood, and I don’t even wipe them clean.

“Get her back to the ship,” I say hoarsely.

“I will.”

“Get her a doctor , Teach.” I’m begging him. “Take her to Tremaine.”

“I’ve got her , ” he assures me, scooping Holly up into his arms. Her body is like a child’s broken doll, limp and wrong, her head lolling against his shoulder.

My teeth clench so hard my jaw aches. “Tell Rokhur to save her. That I’ll do anything.”

“Don’t take on another debt.” There’s no mockery in his voice. No lecture. He doesn’t even seem sad. Likely, he’s feeling as numb and shocked as I am.

“I’m going to kill her,” I say.

He doesn’t ask who. Doesn’t need to.

Prudence, with her continual grasping to be captain. She never cared for Holly. Always thought her soft ways and mothering were silly. Furious, I scramble to my feet.

“Where is she?” I demand of the sailors around us. “Where’s Prudence?”

Robb grabs my arm. “I say we sail away and leave. You have the ship. Let’s get help for Holly, then pull up the anchor and go.”

For a moment, I want to. I imagine pulling away from the island, the sea swallowing this day whole. But such treason cannot go unpunished. Surely he knows that. “Prudence betrayed us. She’s the reason Holly is hurt, and her treason must be rooted out—”

“For gods’ sake! Everything cannot be about revenge!” Teach clutches Holly to his chest.

“Are you still here?” I shout at him, incredulous. “Go! Do you want her to die?”

With a shake of his head, Teach leaves, Holly nestled against his chest.

I turn on Robb. “You want me to forgive this?” I gesture around the room with bloodied hands, “and leave Prudence amongst the swaying palms, sipping on coconut juice? Is that what you want?”

“No, but…”

“You want me to let it go that my husband had me murdered? That they held me down and beat me and raped me? ”

Robb flinches. Gapes.

“People talk about justice, but they don’t want to get their hands dirty. They want to fight for what is right, but they’re too afraid to pick up a sword.”

“But not me.” I point to myself. “I have nothing to lose, because it was all taken. So here I am, trying to make it right the only way I know how, which is to do what’s fair. To give them the same pain they gave me.”

I tug away from Robb, grimacing. “If you want to leave, leave. Xandretta can captain the ship. I’m sure you could do the same. Do whatever the hell you want, Robb. Some of us have scores to settle.”

I can tell he’s trying to work out what to say, what to do next. Making a plan to convince me otherwise. That isn’t going to happen, so I give him a sharp nod.

Then I go in search of Prudence.