Chapter Twenty-One
An explosion rockedthe ship, jolting Celeste from slumber.
She reached behind her to where James had been all night, but the bed was empty, the sheets cold. Where in the devil was he?
Another explosion rattled the timbers. Throwing back the blanket, she climbed from the bed. Shouts echoed on the deck. Her heart raced. What was happening?
Quickly, she pulled on a tunic and trousers. She barely had her boots on when another bang echoed somewhere beyond the confines of the captain’s cabin. They were under attack.
She swore as she searched for weapons. Hook had taken the pistol she’d had at the castle along with her dagger. Damn him! Bracing herself, she raced for the door as another shout rang out.
“Raise the alarm!” Mr. Smee’s voice boomed over screams and shouts.
Celeste came up short at the sight on deck. The few men who had remained on the ship ran to and fro under the first mate’s orders. Mr. Smee stood at the railing, his gaze fixed on the shore.
Smoke billowed into the blue skies as flames consumed the small cluster of huts. Her heart stopped at the sight of battle upon the white sand beaches that had seemed so peaceful the night before.
They had been ambushed.
The uniforms of bright blue and crimson drew her attention. They were Nevarran.
Her throat closed as panic seized her. They’d hunted them down. After what she had done...what Hook had taken...
She rushed forward, searching for the captain, when she spied the familiar warship bearing the Nevarran flag blocking the entrance to the cove.
“Get the men back to the ship, Smee!”
“Aye, Captain!” Smee shouted, glancing up to the main mast.
James stood in the crow’s nest, high above the deck, overlooking the fray below.
Celeste rushed to Smee’s side. “Give me a weapon.”
“I cannot...”
“Henry. Give. Me. A. Weapon.” Determination laced every word. “Let me fight.”
He pulled a pistol from his hip and held it out. “One shot. Make it count.”
“Have you a blade?”
He swore before pulling a dagger from his boot and handing it to her.
“What are you doing?” James bellowed behind her.
They both spun to face the captain. His handsome face twisted with stubborn fury. Gone were the humor and teasing, replaced with the single-minded direction of a leader protecting his men.
“She needs a weapon, Captain.” Smee snapped his mouth shut at the responding glare from James.
“Secure the ship,” James growled. “If he wants a bloody war, he shall have it.”
“Wh—” Her question vanished in the air as he snatched her wrist and pulled her toward the hold. “Where are you taking me?”
“You will wait below deck.”
“I will do no such thing.” She ripped herself from his grasp.
James spun, and his eyes narrowed. “This is still my ship. I am still its captain. I have given you an order. Get. Below.”
“This may be your ship, Captain, but this is my war.” She brought herself boot to boot with him, ignoring the way her body warmed at his presence. “I shall make my stand with or without your permission.”
“Damned stubborn wench.” He grasped the back of her neck and pulled her in for a rough kiss. Its intensity left her breathless. When he drew back, his expression softened. “This is not the time for mercy, little star.”
With a stiff nod, she tightened her grip on the dagger.
A flurry of shouts and the pounding of boots rattled the boards beneath their feet. James turned toward the sound, pushing her behind him. The protective gesture was not lost on her. She peered over his shoulder to find a dozen soldiers surrounding them, weapons drawn and precisely aimed.
Celeste clutched James’s shoulder. Her nails bit into leather as a familiar face appeared in the midst of the chaos. Uncle Peter. Half of his face was shrouded in a bandage and cast in shadow by a tricorn hat. He stepped around the soldiers, stopping short at the sight of Celeste and James.
“Ah. I see you wasted no time in seducing the pirate.”
His vile grin and vulgar insinuation made her ill...and fueled an already simmering rage.
He shifted his gaze to James. “Tell me, what has she promised you in exchange for compliance?”
“Our bargain has nothing to do with you,” James replied, his voice as steady as sunrise, even as he stiffened beneath her touch.
“Ah, but it does.” He drew his pistol, aiming it directly at James’s heart. “As long as she lives, everything she does concerns me.”
Celeste stepped from behind James. “What do you want, traitor?”
“I only wish to finish what I have begun.” He turned the pistol to her. “Then there will be no question who the true ruler of Nevarro is.”
She swallowed the fear churning inside her and stared down the barrel of his gun. “You killed my father. Poisoned my sister and the people of Nevarro toward me. Banished me from my home. What more could you possibly take from me?”
“Everything.” Uncle Peter blinked his one wide eye. “Including your precious captain.”
Before she could react, James rushed forward. Her cry was drowned out by the soldier’s shouts. She screamed as James collided with Uncle Peter, knocking him against the railing, his hook pressed to her uncle’s throat.
A shot rang out, halting the chaos.
Both men straightened, their fists entangled in the other’s clothing. Smoke curled up from the pistol clenched in her uncle’s hand.
James staggered back, his hand clasped to his side. He pulled it away. Blood glistened in the morning light, spreading over his fingertips.
“James!” Celeste shouted. “No!”
Panic ripped through her, clawing free from deep inside her chest. Her heart ceased beating. She rushed forward, but one of the soldiers grasped her by the hair and pulled her back, then pinned her arms at her sides.
The captain turned to her, his eyes full of regret and pain. A lopsided smile curved his lips. “Little star...”
He tumbled over the railing and a loud splash followed as he plunged into the crystalline water.
“James!” Her scream echoed through the cove. “You bastard.” She turned her ire on her uncle, struggling to free herself from the soldier’s hold. “I will kill you for this.”
“Do your worst, child.” He motioned for the soldier to release her.
Celeste stumbled free and raised the dagger still grasped in her hand.
Uncle Peter handed his pistol to the nearest soldier and drew a cutlass. “We shall see if your father’s lessons will serve you as well as your wits.”
With such a difference in the size of their weapons, she knew she would have to draw him in close. A dagger required more intimacy than a cutlass but was easier to wield. All she had to do was lure him in...then strike. It would place him too near for her to be complacent. The risk would give her an advantage.
She inhaled deeply, slowly circling him. He watched her, keeping pace, one step after another. When he lunged forward, she knocked his blow aside, sending him off-balance, but he quickly regained his footing.
“You must think yourself fortunate, Celeste, to have escaped my grasp for so long.”
“Luck and fortune have given me nothing. I survived by my own merit.” She stepped around the rigging as he struck again. His blade deflected off of the wooden railing beside her.
“Perhaps I have been too hasty.” His smile left her uneasy. “What if I were to offer you an alternative? A bargain, if you will.”
“You have already taken all I have.” She stole his inattention and left a grazing cut upon his forearm.
He hissed in displeasure but ignored the blood running down his wrist to drip onto the hilt of his blade. “Aye, but I can restore you in due course. If you agree to obey me.”
“Is this how you swayed my sister to your cause? Fed her pretty promises and grand ideals, lies upon lies, to poison her against my father...against me.”
“I only promised her truth.” He followed her, step for step, keeping his blade level. “As I offer you.”
“You seduced her.” Celeste’s stomach churned at the words. “Not only with filthy lies, but you stole her innocence.”
His step faltered, but he righted himself, dropping the blade. She paused, but his subsequent laughter enraged her.
“You mock me?” she asked over his bellowing laugh.
Silence filled the air. His eyes narrowed as he rushed toward her, closing the gap between them. She stumbled back, but not before he gripped her arms, pinning her to the mast.
“Once again, you act out of rash desperation.”
His hot breath burned her cheek. She turned away, unable to bear it. He held her fast, unrelenting in his strength.
“You know nothing, child.”
“You defiled my sister. Seduced her with your words, with your body.” She spat in his face. “I hope you rot at the bottom of the sea.”
His expression shifted from stunned disbelief to rage, as quickly as the current beneath the waves. “For that alone, you will die a traitor’s death.”
“You first.” Celeste reared back, striking hard with her knee, landing a blow to his most sensitive area.
“You cursed bitch!” He screamed, doubling over with pain, knocking his hat free.
Celeste grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled until his vengeful gaze fell upon her. She placed her blade to his throat, letting the steel bite his skin.
“Stop!” he shouted.
The soldiers around them ceased moving.
“Tell them to return to your ship, weigh anchor, and never return.”
She pressed the blade deeper, and he hissed.
“You heard her. Back to the ship. Return to Nevarro.”
The men retreated, climbing over the side of the Raven. Mr. Smee came beside her, his pistol pointed at her uncle’s heart.
Slowly, the Raven’s crew refilled Hook’s ship. The men, covered in soot, ash, and blood took their place at her side. Their jeers and taunts filled the air. She spared them a glance, noting they’d lost fewer men than she’d anticipated. The moment the sails of her uncle’s ship filled and it left the cove, she allowed herself to breathe.
Celeste rounded on him, where he stood beneath the watchful eye of the first mate.
“You will tell me what I wish to know. Or you will die.”
“Kill me, then.” He growled, baring his teeth. “Finish what you started.”
A commotion rose behind her. She turned to see men hoist the captain on deck, his clothes dripping with seawater, his face pale. Her heart shattered at the sight.
“Is he...” She could not finish the question.
“If he is not dead, he soon will be,” Uncle Peter said, his tone mocking.
Instead of waiting for a response from the crewmen holding the captain’s body, she turned back to her uncle, vengeance rattling inside her like a cannonball loosed from a warship. She spun around and pinned him to the mast, her hand wrapped around his throat.
This man had ruined her life. Stolen everything she held dear, everyone she loved. He would pay the price for his treachery in spades.
“I have had enough.” She thrust the blade into his chest, angling it beneath his ribs so the tip would pierce his black heart. “To hell with you.”
“They will never again welcome you in Nevarro. You will never take the throne.” Choked laughter bubbled from his lips as blood escaped his cursed mouth. “My blood...prevails.” His eyes drifted closed as he slumped to the ground, darkness pooling beneath his body.
His last words left her trembling as the blade slipped from her grasp.