Chapter 30 The Wages of Witchcraft
Desi’s insides spun in a cyclone of ever-changing emotions. To be expected, she supposed, after being tossed back and forth through time like a ping-pong ball.
What she didn’t expect was the way Caleb’s nearness made her feel—more than the usual exhilaration—no, it was as if a deep empty space inside her soul had been filled at last.
He sat back on his desk, boots crossed at his ankle, giving her a look that sent heat spiraling through her. Not just passion, but reverence, devotion, the promise of forever in a single glance.
No one had ever looked at her that way.
Wet breeches clung to strong thighs while his damp shirt molded perfectly around every muscle.
The mesmerizing sight was only interrupted by the crossing of the leather strap that housed his cutlass by his side.
Hair as dark as the night dripped onto his shoulders, matching the stubble shadowing his jaw.
And those eyes, stormy, ungovernable, and utterly alive.
Was she really here again in this time with this pirate-preacher who made every cell within her come alive?
“I thought you’d left me forever,” he said, rising from the desk.
And suddenly she felt nervous in his presence, like a teen on her first date with the school’s heartthrob.
The room heated around her. “I didn’t mean to leave.” She drew the shawl from her shoulders and cleared her throat. “When I began to feel myself slipping away,” She swallowed hard and slowly rose, “I wanted to die. I didn’t want to lose you, Caleb.”
Smiling, he moved toward her, slipping his hand into hers.
She had to say it. He had to know.
“I couldn’t leave without telling you.” Moisture filled her eyes, and she hated her weakness, hated that this man made her feel so out of control. And worse, she was unable to do anything about it. “That I love you, Caleb Hyde. I think I always have.”
Delight softened his features, though a teasing glint kindled in his eyes. “And you traveled across centuries just to tell me that?”
She raised a brow. “You may not believe me, but I’ve never said that to a man before.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it reverently. “Then you do me a great honor.”
Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she tried to withdraw her hand, but he held fast. No doubt Caleb had declared his love for many women before, particularly Geneviève.
He must have read the mistrust in her eyes.
“I have never felt this way about anyone, Desi. When you left, you took a part of my heart with you.” Sorrow darkened his gaze.
“I didn’t think I could go on.” He squeezed her hand.
“I prayed and prayed for the Lord to bring you back to me. And He did.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, warm, tender, achingly gentle.
When his lips touched hers, the world fell away.
Heat surged to her toes. A wave of pleasure swept over her, fierce and inescapable.
He drew her close, fingers threading through her hair, his chest an unyielding shield against all harm.
“I love you, Desi,” he whispered in her ear. “Stay with me…forever.”
His lips moved to hers again, drowning her in love, searching, caressing, uniting them in a bond that went beyond time…until ship, sea, and century dissolved around them.
By the time he pulled back, Desi wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t do anything he asked. Her breath came fast. Her blood rushed madly. She blinked to clear her mind, her vision, her heart.
Caleb’s eyes smoldered like the horizon after a storm. “You enchant me, Desi. To the depths of my being.”
She stepped closer, wanting more of him, wanting to lose herself in his arms. She’d never known real love, never believed it was possible. Never felt such sensations storming through her.
But he raised a palm. “Nay, my little sea nymph. A man can only endure so much temptation.”
Disappointed, but smiling, she saw him as he was—honorable, moral, God-fearing. So unlike any man she’d known.
He stroked her chin with his thumb. “Promise you won’t leave me again.”
How she longed to.
But she couldn’t.
Instead, she opened her palm, revealing the Ring. It was his, by right, but also her ticket home. Should she hold onto it? A tremor passed through her as she looked at it. It had the power to whisk her away against her will, rip her from this man she loved.
She dropped it in his hand.
The amber gem pulsed like living flame. Caleb turned it over. “How does it send you back? By whim or will?”
She stepped away from it, fearing even touching it. “Do you know what a portal is?”
Caleb scratched his stubble, his brow wrinkling. “A doorway to another place?”
“Yes, and in this case, another time. I saw a map in Montverre’s library. Seven red circles marked points across the world. I believe they are the locations of these doorways.”
He frowned. “And you’re certain they weren’t his ships or targets for invasion?”
“There were too many strange places.” Nibbling on her lip, she moved to the window, seeking distance from the cursed artifact. Patches batted at sunbeams along the sill as Desi continued. “One circle marked the site where your ship sank, where I found the Ring. Another was ?le Du Crane.”
She gave him a moment to process the information, his expression pensive and stern.
“Don’t you see? I only travel through time when I’m at those places and in contact with it.”
“But you dropped it before vanishing—twice.”
“Yes. In the past, I have to drop it to return home. In my time, I only have to touch it.”
He smiled, tossed the Ring in the air and caught it. “Problem solved. I simply will not allow you to touch it ever again.”
“If only it were that simple.” Desi turned to stare out the stern windows, not wanting to look at him while she told him the truth.
Dark clouds retreated on the horizon, the last evidence of the storm, while waves glittered like scattered glass beneath the sun.
All looked peaceful. But peace was a lie.
His bootsteps thudded softly behind her. “Why can it not be?”
Desi clasped hands before her, refusing to turn around. “It’s my sister, Caleb. Remember I told you about her?”
“Aye. She is ill.”
“Yes. And dying.” She finally spun to face him. “Things got far worse when I returned. She’s in the hospital now. They say she only has weeks.”
Sorrow carved deep lines in his face as he squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Desi. ’Tis a grief too great to bear.”
“But there’s a way to save her life.”
A single strand of his hair slid across his jaw. “Tell me.”
“There’s a man—wealthy beyond measure—who will pay a fortune for the Ring.” She hesitated. Should she tell him the man was Montverre’s descendant? Would it make him less inclined to give it to her? Her thoughts twisted inside her. Along with her heart.
A slight narrowing of his eyes was the only indication of the conflict brewing in his mind.
“That money could pay for her surgery and her care for life. Without it…” Her voice broke. “She’ll die.”
Caleb turned away, pacing behind his desk. The air between them chilled. “Can no other surgeon perform it? Are there no physicians of skill?”
“That’s not how it works in my time.”
He grunted. “It is still about money, then. Some things never change.”
“Yes, unfortunately.” Her whisper carried both anger and resignation.
He faced her, every trace of joy gone. “And how will you return with the Ring?”
“All I need to do is drop it while standing within one of the portals.”
He flattened his lips and stared at the Ring. “Yet if you sell it to this man, you can never return.”
And there it was. The words struck like cannon fire, ripping her heart clean through.
Tears spilled as she turned to the window again, thankful when Brandt barged into the cabin, cane clapping on the deck.
“Forgive the intrusion, Captain.” His voice dragged with both exhaustion and defeat. “But five more men have fallen ill.”
?
The stench of sickness met them halfway down the companionway—an acrid mix of sweat, bile, and damp wood. Desi covered her nose with her sleeve as Caleb lifted a lantern, its wavering light spilling across the narrow passage.
Brandt trudged ahead, limping more than usual, his cane clacking against the planks. “They’re in the forecastle, Captain. I moved the worst of them together so we might better tend them.”
When they reached the cramped berth, Desi’s breath caught. Dozens of hammocks hung in uneven rows, each occupied by a man drenched in sweat, his skin slick and as gray as old parchment. Some shivered beneath thin blankets; others muttered incoherently, eyes rolling back in their sockets.
The air was thick, oppressive, heavy with despair.
Caleb’s face hardened as he surveyed his men. “Lord preserve us,” he murmured. “How many more?”
“Three this morning. Two since I left your cabin,” Brandt said, his voice frayed.
“It begins with a fever, then rashes. Some bleed from the nose. I’ve tried everything I know—leeches, bark, vinegar compresses—but the sickness only worsens.
” He gripped his cane with white-knuckled hands, his expression crumbling.
“I should have known. I should have seen the signs earlier. What use am I as a physician if I cannot save them?”
Caleb laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done all a man could, Doctor.”
But Brandt shook his head fiercely. “No, Captain. I’ve failed them.” His voice cracked. “I hear their cries at night. They call for mercy, and I can give none.” He pressed a hand to his eyes, struggling for composure.
Desi stepped beside him. “This isn’t your fault,” she said softly.
“Nay, it isn’t,” Caleb added. “You are the best doctor to ever sail the Caribbean. If you can’t cure them…” A sudden thought fired through his mind. If Brandt couldn’t cure them, then perhaps the illness was not natural as Alden had said.
At that moment, one of the sailors convulsed in his hammock, gasping for air. Desi rushed forward, taking his clammy hand. “His pulse is racing.”
Caleb leaned close. “Hold fast, lad.”