Chapter 19 Birds of a Feather #2
“Miss Starr…Desiree, do come in. Sit.” Rising, he set Patches on the desk and gestured toward the chair. He wore his usual cream-colored shirt, open at the collar with his silver cross dangling from his neck. Without his leather vest, she could see the bandage wrapped around his shoulder.
“Just Desi is fine.”
“I prefer Desiree. It suits you better. Or perhaps my little sea nymph?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “How is your wound?” The wound he received while protecting her.
“Better. Seems the Lord had mercy on me and healed me.”
Desi nibbled her bottom lip, not knowing what to say. Had she witnessed a real miracle? From God? She glanced up at the verse carved into the bulkhead.
With God, all things are possible
Caleb had been on the brink of death, and yet here he stood not a day later, healthy and strong.
“Alden told me you tended me through two long nights.” He brought her gaze back to him.
Desi eased onto the chair, swallowing a burst of emotions she could not name. “I came above deck last night, but you had just left.”
Circling his desk, he leaned back against it, gripping the sides. Patches sidled up to him and nudged his arm. “Aye, I needed to clear my mind.”
“I heard about the lanterns breaking.”
He lowered his gaze, his jaw bunching. “Odd, to be sure.”
She glanced at his fingers, but the Ring was not there. “I wanted to thank you for your thoughtful gifts. I was…” How could she tell him what they’d meant to her? Thoughtful and beyond anything anyone had given her. “Surprised and very grateful.”
He smiled. “I am pleased you like them.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin, his eyes never leaving hers.
Why was he looking at her like that? Like they’d known each other forever? Uncomfortable, she stood and averted her gaze. “I had a dream.” She hesitated. “About my sister. Her name is Daria.”
He said nothing, merely stared at her as Patches headed toward her on the desk.
“She’s very sick, Caleb.” She took a step towards him, wanting him to understand. “I’m the only one who takes care of her.”
His brow wrinkled and concern burned in his gaze. “I’m sorry, Desi.”
“I have to get home.”
“What ails her?”
She shook her head. “A deadly disease.”
He reached for her hand.
Against everything within her, she took it, trying not to show how his touch affected her.
“As much as the thought of you leaving pains me, and it does.” He rubbed his thumb over her fingers, shooting a pulsating charge down to her toes. “I will do all in my power to return you to your sister. I simply do not have a clue how to do that.”
His gaze dropped to her lips, and she knew he thought of their kiss.
Retrieving her hand, she stepped back. One more kiss like the one they’d shared and she might lose all rational thought and never want to return home.
“’Twas like none other,” his sultry tone, deep and passionate spun around her heart.
Her breath hitched and she took Patches in her arms, if only to keep from dashing into his. Yes it was! But she must get his mind on something else, anything else, or she feared from the look in his eyes, he’d kiss her again.
A pink ribbon enclosed in glass caught her eye. No doubt a gift from a lover. “What is this? A macho guy like you has a pink ribbon on his desk?”
“Macho?” He frowned, and the spell between them shattered. “’Twas my sister, Esther’s.”
Crud. She felt like a heel for making him relive that night.
“’Tis a reminder of my failings and what I owe her.” He glanced at the ribbon, a haunted look in his eyes.
Hoisting Patches in one arm, Desi picked up a small frame from beside the ribbon. “I’m sure she has forgiven you.” A beautiful young woman with honey-blonde hair stared back at her from the smallest painting she’d ever seen. “Is this her?”
“Aye.” He approached, his scent of salted leather and bay rum bringing all her senses to life. Staring down at the miniature, he smiled. “She’s beautiful like her mother.” Then pivoting, he moved away as if the sight of her was far too painful. “She is scarred for life.”
A lump formed in Desi’s throat. This man carried a heavy burden, and more than anything, she wished she could take it from him, comfort him in some way.
But a strange clamor pounded the ship, like thunder, but different. The hammering above them ceased, followed by shouts and the thumping of bare feet on the deck.
“Stay here,” Caleb commanded before he shot out the door.
?
Caleb burst up the companionway to a piercing chorus of squawks and screeches and a massive, dark shadow gobbling up the sun.
His crew, shock written on their sweaty faces, squinted upward.
The sky churned with wings—gulls, terns, frigate birds, and crows all circling in a frenzy above the Sentinel.
Without warning, they shot down like lightning, diving at rigging, clawing at tarred ropes, pecking at sailcloth.
Fearful shouts and curses joined the shrieks as some of his crew drew blades, slashing this way and that, while others flailed arms and hats, anything they could find to scatter the feathered fiends.
“Saints preserve us!” Liam bellowed, slashing his knife at a gull that had bit his hand.
Alden raised his arms as a shield. “Hold steady, lads. They’ll be gone soon.”
But more birds came, dive-bombing buckets of pitch, splattering fresh canvas with droppings, and scraping talons over unprotected scalps.
Drawing his blade, Caleb hacked at the crazed vermin, his mind reeling in confusion at the demonic onslaught. Where had they come from and why? He’d never seen anything like it.
A crowd of merchants and sailors stared at them from the docks, mouths open and eyes bulging. The birds only attacked the Sentinel.
A gull dove at Caleb, beak open. Ducking, he flattened his cutlass against it, then flung it aside.
Pistol shots echoed through the humid air as some of his men fired into the manic horde.
Others beat birds with belaying pins, still others swung coats at the oncoming flocks.
More than a dozen men lay on the deck, scraped and bloody.
Leaping into the ratlines, Liam swept his blade at a group of terns pecking the foremast, scattering the birds, only to have more replace them. Alden, a bloody gash on his arm, gave Caleb a look of fear, but more than that, a look that urged him to do something.
The deck of the Sentinel was a battlefield, pieces of chopped wood, severed rope, spilled tar, torn canvas…and blood.
A black crow swooped toward Caleb. Ducking, he leapt aside and slammed the hilt of his sword against its head. It dropped to the deck.
These were not ordinary birds. They hailed from the underworld. Caleb should command them away in the name of Jesus, but if it didn’t work…? If the Lord no longer answered his prayers…? No time to waste, he plucked the Ring from his pocket, slipped it on his finger, and said, “Begone this instant!”
The eerie squawking ceased. Every bird vanished in a mist as dark as the night.
Rays of glorious sunlight broke through the haze even as a heavy coating of ash drifted down upon them like snowflakes on a winter’s day.
Coughing, the men batted it away, some lowering their swords, others gripping their wounds, all staring agape at the sight.
Alden’s eyes shifted toward Caleb, frowning when he saw the Ring on his finger.
But what other recourse did Caleb have? His ship and the lives of everyone aboard were at stake.
“Merciful hour!” Liam jumped to the deck and ran a sleeve over the cut on his forehead, his glance dropping to the Ring.
“Fire and flame!” Shorty said from the helm. “They came out of nowhere, Cap’n. Like they was sent straight from hell itself.”
Alden growled. “Exactly.”
“By me drowned soul,” another man cursed.
“Sink me, ne’er saw anythin’ like that.”
The crew continued shouting their flourishes even as they brushed ash from their clothing and shook it from their hair.
“Ash in me lungs, cuts on me arms,” Keg said, “better than losing an eye.”
Caleb spotted Brandt leaping on deck and was about to order him to tend the injured when Alden, wide-eyed, pointed to something in town.
The air thickened, heavy as if the heavens held their breath.
A single black funnel twisted down from the sky, shrieking as it spun.
Its roar grew like a thousand cannons fired all at once as it descended over one of the buildings near the dock, a warehouse.
The townsfolk who’d been watching the birds attack the Sentinel spun at the sight, staring aghast, like most of his crew were now doing.
Round and round, the mist spun, faster and faster, black, malevolent, a vortex of evil. A tornado? Caleb had only heard such clouds existed, but he’d never seen one. And shouldn’t there be a storm surrounding it? Yet naught but white clouds and a cerulean sky stretched to the horizon.
He rubbed his eyes. Another demonic assault? What is happening, Lord? When he opened them, he spotted Ayida standing at the railing, her gaze fixed on the funnel, a slight grin on her face. A grin?
The warehouse door flung open, and several people emerged, glanced at the cloud, and then bolted away.
Desi approached, her gaze also on the funnel.
A crackle whipped across the sky, loud and sharp.
The tornado struck the warehouse, shrouding the building in a black cloud that spun like a child’s toy.
Pieces of wood, chunks of brick, and other debris fired from within it toward the retreating crowd.
Then, as quickly as it had descended, the twister rose, hovering a second before it shot into the sky in a streak of black… and disappeared.
The building was gone.
“’Tis this ship!” One of the townsfolk pointed at the Sentinel. “She’s cursed, I tell you.”
“Cursed as the devil’s mother!” another man bellowed with spite.
“Leave us! Leave this town at once!” A third man shoved his fist at Caleb. “Before ye kill us all!”