Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
HOOK
“ W hat the hell,” I sighed, dragging my stump down my forehead as I grabbed the subpar wheel of the shitty little boat I’d managed to acquire, “do you think you’re doing?”
Vea didn’t pause in her act of boarding, just swung her other leg over until both feet were planted on the old wooden boards. “I’m coming with you. Honestly, sir, you’re a little dim-witted.”
I pointed the sharp edge of a dagger I’d won back from her last night directly at her throat. “Get off my fucking ship.”
“All respect, sir, this isn’t even your ship. It’s Ol’ Jimmy Campbell’s ship, and I’d hesitate to even call it that. Shanty’s a more accurate term.”
“Give me one good reason not to slit your throat,” I hissed, my hand tightening around the dagger, my knuckles whitening.
“I bribed the harbour guard to look elsewhere while we make our dashing escape,” she informed me, dropping her ass on the board that served as a seat, stretching her shapely legs in front of her and looking unlikely to move. I’d watched her distract a man with those shapely legs last night. She slid three gold coins off his table and into her hand. Scavenger my ass.
“Those legs won’t work on me,” I informed her with a scowl, stashing the knife to resume my preparations, yanking out the ties holding up the sail until it unfurled in a snap of canvas. I gritted my teeth when it dumped rainwater on my head. I still hadn’t got a hat. I planned to take back my own, right before I plunged my sword into Wendy.
My metal sword. The sword I’d bought from a blacksmith on the Princess Isle. Not any other sword. Not the one in my new leather trousers that thickened at the mere thought of that vicious little villain.
“What legs?” Vea asked, tilting them until her skirts fell up to her knees. “These legs, sir?”
“I will cut them off,” I growled, yanking the sail into place, the motions familiar even if this shitty little ship was nothing compared to the Banshee.
“Ah, don’t be a misery guts, sir. I know they’re not Wendy’s legs, but they can part like any other.”
I speared Vea with a look of pure, heated loathing. “You can sit there if you keep your mouth shut, or keep running it if you’re content to be thrown to the monsters that lurk out there.” I stabbed my arm at the ocean. “And do not speak about Wendy.”
“Why, sir?” Vea asked, all innocence and batting lashes. “You talk about her for hours in your sleep.”
I ground my teeth and ignored her preposterous comment as I made quick work of getting us out of the harbour and into deeper waters. There were no storms due this week, but enough winds that the seas should be favourable for a small boat such as this. It didn’t even have a name, that was how pathetic my new vessel was.
But not to worry. I’d reclaim the Banshee soon enough. Wendy didn’t strike me as an experienced sailor, so she’d rely on the crew to man the ship. And that covetous look I saw in her blue eyes told me she’d keep to our plan and sail to the Cracked Shark the second she heard of the caves of crystal and gold.
My hat, my ship, my crew—was there anything that blighted woman hadn’t stolen?
“You’re doing it again,” Vea remarked, stretching out like a cat beneath the sunlight.
“Doing what?” I snapped, whipping around, my body as tight as a bowstring. I was almost shaking.
“Well, you’re grinding your teeth, your back’s as stiff as a board, and you keep muttering under your breath, so my guess is you’re thinking about Wendy.”
My eyes flashed with lethal warning. I breathed deeper, heavier, rage like a fire in my chest. “I’m going to hunt her, torture her until she breaks, and then kill her.”
“Is that why you’ve got a boner?” Vea asked very seriously.
I exhaled through my nose, clenching my hand into a fist.
“Hey, I’m not judging,” she said when I turned back to the helm. “Hate makes for great sex.”
“One more word,” I rumbled, blood pumping in my ears. “One more fucking word, Vea.”
She helped herself to a saltfish fritter from the bags I packed, taking a noisy bite. “I’m just saying, for someone you’re planning to murder, you sure do spend a lot of time heavy breathing, glazed-eyed, and adjusting your dick in your pants.”
I moved so fast she had no hope of avoiding me, ripping the fritter from her hand and tossing her cleanly overboard. I popped the last of the fritter in my mouth and faced the helm again, banishing thoughts of storm-blue eyes, wicked smiles, and the hot lance of pain as she ran me through with my own sword.
My dick throbbed, pressing against leather, frantic to escape.
This was a fucking nightmare. Even thinking about her stabbing me, killing me, refused to calm my libido. Probably because I’d never met anyone like her before, with a complete absence of fear in her eyes and a smile so quick it was reckless. And that silver tongue, that smart mouth… god. I groaned and ran my hand down my face.
Since the curse and the bargain, I’d never met anyone who wasn’t afraid of me. It was a drug I had no idea how to fight. But I needed to figure it out because Wendy wasn’t destined to be moaning on the end of my cock; she would bleed and sob at the end of my blade. She’d made an enemy of me, and there was no undoing that.
A wet slap came from behind me, followed by huffing, puffing, and coarse swearing. It brought a smirk to my mouth. Vea swore so colourfully she’d make some of my crew blush.
“You’re a piss poor excuse for a captain,” she hissed, wringing out her dress. I turned, crossing my arms over my chest. At least I still had my coat, the familiar brown leather. It was the first thing I’d bought with my own money when I escaped.
“But a captain nonetheless,” I retorted, still smirking. “When you’re done pouting, I’ll show you how to hoist and lower the sails.”
Vea’s eyes were dark as she levelled a glare on my face. “How generous of you, sir.”
I snorted. She wouldn’t use the word generous when she was done.