Page 29

Twenty-Nine

“M ortas,” I groaned. Could his timing be any worse? “I thought you were on the Lark ?”

“Could this be the famous Sasha everyone is searching for?” His eyes, laser-focused on the stone she held, disregarded me.

Sasha closed her hand over the relic. “Who is he?”

“Give me the eye.” Mortas stepped toward her from the shadows of the hold.

Sasha’s face contorted in surprise before her eyes turned cold. Obvious recognition crossed her face. “Bastard!” Sasha’s free hand dropped to the knife in her belt. “You killed my mother.”

Mortas looked stunned. Was I wrong? Had I put the wrong piece in the puzzle? I stood frozen, waiting for a miracle.

“It wasn’t me,” Mortas finally said.

“Liar!” Sasha was beyond mad, she was seething. The knife now pointed at Mortas. I was a smidge in the way, unsure if I should step aside and let the two of them go at it.

Mortas held up his hands. “Your mother stole something from my father, and I’m here to get it back. Along with the eye, of course.”

His grandfather’s piece of the map. Now in the hands of Charles Vane.

They stared at each other. Sasha with murder in her eyes. Mortas with pretentious regard.

“If you kill him, you’ll die too,” I warned.

Mortas rolled his eyes. As if a young girl would be his demise. “Your mother loved my father. She would want you to join me in my quest for the King’s key. Give me the stone.”

Sasha’s mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed. Before she could respond, footsteps echoed outside of the hold.

Ned and Logan burst through the open door. “Here ye are, Captain Crunch,” Logan said. “The cap’n needs ye on deck.”

Ned spotted me. His lips twisted into a suspicious pucker. “What are ye doin’ in ’ere, healer?”

“I…” I glanced over at Sasha, but she was gone. The bilge hatch clicked closed. Damn. My inner voice snapped her fingers and mouthed Curses, foiled again . I reminded her we were not in a classic cartoon and returned my gaze to the men. “Captain Crunch needed me to check his privates. He’s got the itch.”

Both men looked at Mortas, then their eyes dropped to crotch level.

“I think we’re all done here.” I brushed my palms together and held them out in front of me. “I must wash.”

The two men gave me a wide berth as I sashayed out the door.

* * *

Climbing up the ladders, I stumbled onto the upper deck. A crosswind blew, bringing with it a creepy, cold chill. The bright, round moon hung high in the dark sky, mirrored on the emblem on the Sea Storm ’s flag. Not a pirate flag with skeletons and swords, but a full moon with a spooky fog of clouds.

I found a spot near the railing to watch what would become one of the most talked about pirate escapes in history. Under the cover of darkness, the Lark moved into position behind a shield of ships. The Sea Storm ’s crew hung onto the masts above me waiting for the signal to drop sails.

I didn’t know what lies Vane had told the other pirates in the cove. Did they think he had a change of heart? That he was sending the Lark to accept the pardon? I shrugged off my useless assumptions. My concern was the safety of the captain and crew of the Sea Storm , Ace and Marco and Caiyan. The men I’d risk my life to bring home.

Inky black water smacked against the Lark as she pulled forward, cutting a wake into the pitch. Only moonlight illuminated the white flag hanging from her mast.

This had to work. It was written in the history books.

Rogers’ ships didn’t move, but their cannon flaps opened. He wasn’t a fool, he’d prepared for any shenanigans. I rubbed the spot on my forehead where Sasha smacked me with the broom. I had to admit, she had good aim.

“I hope your plan works since you ruined mine.” Mortas balanced a hip on the railing beside me.

“Are you referring to keeping Vane on schedule to preserve the past or telling Sasha your father ruined her life?”

“You play hardball. I respect that.” Mortas shifted, leaned toward me. “It wasn’t my father who ruined Sasha. He knows nothing of our gifts. He only followed orders from my grandfather. Adhered to the family code, like he always does. Elma stole Lidiya away. She would have become one of us.”

“I doubt that.”

“My plan to keep Vane in port would have saved valuable time.”

“Your plan changed history. Mine keeps us on the correct timeline.”

“The correct timeline.” Mortas huffed. “My grandfather was always afraid of myths and legends. Don’t mess up the timeline. Go back and do my bidding. Steal the keys for me.”

“Careful, you shouldn’t speak of the dead with such bitterness.” It sounded harsh, but I knew there was no love lost between Gian-Carlo Mafuso and his eldest grandson.

“I’m the better choice to lead my family. My father is weak and my sister is, well, a woman.”

Man, I hated this guy.

“I’ll find the King’s key and my family will step aside, respect me.”

Whoa. I doubted his family would respect him after he booted his father out of the Don’s seat at the mafia table, exposed his sister’s lies, and treated his youngest brother the same way his grandfather had treated him.

“How exactly are you going to do that?” My unimpressed tone leaked sarcasm.

“I have a map.”

“I know about the map.” He didn’t look shocked that I knew about the secret map. “You don’t have any of the pieces.”

“Wrong again. I believe all the pieces of the map are here.” His eyes studied mine as if questioning if I knew about Elma’s map. If I held the final piece in his search of the King’s key.

Mortas glanced across the dark water at the Lark . “McGregor and Ferrari know those maps like their own birthmarks. That is, providing McGregor lives to rescue you. Which he will. The guy’s been a blister on my backside since he was born.”

“Once you have Vane’s piece, do you think they’re going to just draw out theirs for you?” I gave an “I don’t believe it” snicker.

“I’ll take the King’s eye from Sasha. Marco can have his girlfriend. Vane can have his treasure. McGregor can have his identity. And you?” He paused and turned curious eyes at me. “What do you want?”

I thought about that for a minute. What did I want? Indoor plumbing, silky panties, a caramel macchiato, my Tempur-Pedic mattress, a mani-pedi, a wax, a hot bath?—

“Well?” He interrupted my mental list-making.

I’d never give him my map. “My life to return to normal.”

Mortas threw his head back and laughed. “You’re a time traveler. Your life will never be normal. Perhaps I can lure you away from the Scot, become your lover. We’d make a good team.”

Eesh. “Never gonna happen.”

He shrugged. “Stay with your Scot, then. That is, if he makes it out of 1718 alive.”

“Oh, he will. And I’ll get the King’s key before you ever lay eyes on it.”

Another laugh, but it wasn’t as confident. “I accept the challenge of tangling with you in future adventures. It will make my life…interesting.” He walked away, leaving me shivering in the warm tropical breeze.

The Lark moved closer to the target. I squinted at the figure of a man on the top deck of the naval ship. Woodes Rogers, I presumed. He stood like Christopher Columbus, spyglass to his eye, watching the Lark .

Closer. Closer. Closer.

Fire ignited from below decks and worked its way upward, snaking up the masts and catching the sails. I recognized Vane as he dove from the Lark into the water, followed by a figure I knew well. Caiyan. Another with Ace’s build jumped cannonball style, holding his nose.

My heart gave a swift beat, and I heaved out a sigh of relief.

A bell sounded from Woodes Rogers’ flagship. Shadows of men rushed around the deck, illuminated by lanterns and the crackling burn of the fast-catching decoy.

In one fabulous Kaboom! the Lark burst into a fireball. I flinched at the sudden explosion and covered my face with my arm to protect it from raining embers.

Rogers’ guns opened fire. Cannonballs rocketed at the Lark , first splashing into the water, then correcting and splitting its foremast. The Lark continued sailing toward Rogers’ flagship.

“Blow me down!” A mate near me stared wide-eyed at the fire. I didn’t think they actually said that, but he proved me wrong.

The crew waited for Max’s signal. I scouted the harbor, searching for the rowboat, watching for Caiyan and Ace to board the Ranger . The smoke thickened the air, making the ships anchored nearby appear and disappear like ghosts in the night.

Rowan stood next to Max on the upper deck. Jacob, the helmsman, had his hands on the wheel. Ready for Max’s orders to steer the ship to safety. The entire scenario resembled a scene from the Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I crossed my fingers and hoped for an easy escape, like Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl .

I spotted Mortas standing near the bow. A crewman was moving toward him, skimming the lines overhead. Inching his way down. The crewman moved with the stealth of a panther. A panther I’d tousled with personally. Sasha. She motioned toward another pirate. The man angled his body, blocking Mortas from the front.

I speed-walked toward them as best I could on a swaying ship. A man climbed over the railing, intersecting my progression and giving me the fright of my life. I reared back, grabbed my chest and squelched a scream when I realized it was Caiyan.

He had climbed aboard the Sea Storm instead of the Ranger as planned. He shoved wet hair off his brow, saw me, and frowned. “I told ye to go home.”

“Not now, Caiyan.” I pushed forward to reach Mortas.

“What are ye doing here?” He grabbed my arm and wrenched me toward him, dripping seawater on my dress.

“I’m on a mission.”

“Yer no on a mission. Ye should be back at headquarters.”

“Why, because I’m not as good as you at catching a brigand?”

“Yer reckless. Ye dinnae think before ye act.” His eyes focused on the red welt on my forehead. “What happened to yer head?”

I jerked my arm away and pointed at Sasha spider-walking down the ropes. “I’m saving Mortas.”

“From whom?” His gaze followed my pointed finger. Sasha jumped Mortas from the lines. Blade in her hand, she plunged it into his back.

“Shite.”

We rushed to Mortas, who lay face down, bleeding. Sasha kneeled on top of him, his arms pinned to the deck by her knees. She yanked her knife out of his back. Raised it overhead to strike again.

“Sasha stop!” Jeez, she took stabbing someone in the back to a whole new level. “You can’t kill him.”

“I know that, you stupid bitch. I’m going to gut him up the middle like the pig he is, but O’Malley here will give the final stab through the heart.”

I glanced at O’Malley. He was the carpenter, I think. Or maybe the sailmaker. He looked purposeful and excited about a kill.

Mortas raised his head. “Get her off me.”

I bit my lower lip. She was living out one of my fantasies.

“For fuck’s sake, get her off.” Mortas bucked and kicked, but Sasha held firm.

A small crowd gathered. Most of the crew kept to their tasks, sneaking looks at the brawl on deck. I glanced up at Max. He and Rowan stood at the helm concentrating on getting the ship the hell out of here.

“Sails,” Max shouted. Yards of fabric dropped above me, caught the wind, and popped into perfect sheets. The Sea Storm turned slightly to follow the Ranger as it headed out to sea, sneaking past the Royal Navy.

A cannonball hit the water too close to our ship as Rogers’ ships continued firing on the Lark . I lost my balance and fell to one knee. “You don’t want to kill him,” I said to Sasha again.

Caiyan swung around behind O’Malley. “Jen’s right, ye cannae kill him.”

“Watch me.” Sasha ripped her blade through Mortas.

He screamed, then glared at Caiyan. “Do something.”

“Now,” Sasha commanded.

Logan drew his sword and lunged at Mortas. Caiyan disarmed him in one swift move.

“No!” I stepped forward, speaking at Sasha with such force that her mouth fell open. “You can’t kill Mortas because…uhm…because he’s Max’s brother and because Max is your brother, too.”

Mortas and Sasha looked at me in horror. Even Caiyan’s face held a rarely seen glimpse of shock.

“Who’s Max?” Sasha asked, narrowing her eyes into suspicious slits.

“Captain Smith.” I yelled above the battle noise and pointed toward the helm.

Mumbling among the crew made me realize what I’d done. I felt sick. I’d stated facts without proof. If the crew knew Max’s father wasn’t the captain of the Sea Storm , he’d lose his ship. His way of life. I destroyed him while saving my most hated enemy.

Caiyan accused me of being reckless.

Maybe he was right.

The sails billowed overhead. We picked up speed, but we were heading straight toward Rogers’ ship, in the wake of the fire ship.

A cannonball contacted the Lark’s hull and she slowed, blocking our exit. We were going to crash into the ship. The men didn’t seem alarmed. They worked the sails, the lines.

Pulling. Pushing. Turning.

“We’re going to hit it.” I grabbed the railing, holding tight. I caught sight of Caiyan doing the same, a grim look on his face. He turned, saw me, and yelled, “Hold on.”

Mortas lay in a pool of blood. Sasha sat paralyzed by my poorly timed delivery of a sneaky suspicion.

The heat of the fire from the Lark burned my face. Nausea swirled like a maelstrom in my gut at the sudden rocking of the ship in tempestuous waves, or the conjunctive vulnerability of the crew. I wasn’t sure.

Closer, closer, closer we sailed until I could see the wood grain of the aft end of the Lark .

Cannons fired from Rogers’ ship missed us by inches. I held my breath to avoid filling my lungs with smoke. A tremble rumbled through the ship. Wood splintered on the Lark as it took a direct hit in the stern. The main topmast, its sails a fiery inferno, snapped and fell. I closed my eyes and gripped the railing, waiting for the impact.

My head spun.

My lungs burned.

My stomach churned like it did when I jumped.

I blinked open my eyes. Caiyan had been thrown to the deck. “Jen, what are ye…” his voice lost in the loud whooshing in my ears.

Through bleary eyes, I located the stern. Max, eyes closed, as if concentrating. Why wasn’t he steering us to freedom?

Rowan looked down at me and our eyes locked. A sucker punch in the gut.

All my assumptions were dead on.

Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!