Chapter Twenty #2
The scent of tar and salt grew stronger with each hurried step as they darted between buildings. A gleam of sunlight reflected off the bay through a gap in the last row of warehouses. Relief surged through her. They’d made it.
“Mr. Moreau! Abigail!”
Her head snapped toward the clear and familiar voice echoing from the surrounding walls. Samantha stood on the street, her red hair trailing in the breeze as she waved at them.
Mr. Moreau froze. “Shit.” He didn’t hesitate, tugging Abigail close, and they crossed to her in long, quick strides.
Samantha saw his face, read the warning in it. Her smile faded and her hand dropped to the hilt of her rapier as he gestured for her to follow them.
“We need to get out of sight.” Mr. Moreau jerked his chin toward a narrow gap between two storehouses.
Abigail’s heart thundered as she followed, every nerve alive. Her grip tightened on his hand as she tried to match his urgent pace. They vaulted over fallen palm fronds and ducked into the shadows before he finally slowed enough for Samantha to catch up.
“Thorne’s here.” He scanned the street behind them as they pressed into the tight space.
Samantha’s brow furrowed. “That’s not possible. We’ve been keeping a sharp watch, and there’s been no sign of his frigate.”
“I don’t give a damn if it’s possible or not, he’s here. We both saw him with our own eyes.”
Her gaze flitted to Abigail, and she gave a grim nod of confirmation.
“If he finds us, we’ve no chance against him and his men. We need to get aboard the Siren.” Mr. Moreau snapped his head toward the harbor. “Hopefully, our presence was not noted.”
They slipped from the alley into the chaos of the docks, weaving between stacked wagons and shouting sailors, every footstep muffled against the wet cobblestones.
Gulls wheeled and shrieked overhead, their cries slicing through the air like warning bells.
Abigail’s heart pounded, each thrum echoing the fear tightening in her chest.
“There, by the cooper’s shop!” The shout tore through the din, close and unmistakably directed toward them.
Mr. Moreau’s eyes went dark. “Move!”
Samantha lunged toward the water, but he caught her arm. “It’s too open. No cover. We’ll never make it.”
They bolted, darting between barrels and stacks of cargo.
Sailors cursed as they shoved past, and startled cart horses threw their heads back with wide eyes and bared teeth.
Mr. Moreau’s hand clamped around Abigail’s wrist, dragging her alongside him as Samantha sprinted ahead.
They abandoned the open street for the maze of alleys, shadows swallowing them as they wound their way back into town.
Abigail’s skirts tangled around her legs as she launched herself over the numerous piles of debris. Blast it. She would gladly have paid good money for a pair of breeches right then.
“Faster.” Mr. Moreau dropped her hand, pressing instead against her lower back, urging her forward.
They cut through another street, twisting between several buildings half collapsed from the storm. Water dripped from broken eaves, pooling along the uneven ground. Abigail stumbled, her foot catching on a splintered beam, and went sprawling.
Before she could cry out, his hand caught her arm and he hauled her upright. “I’ve got you.”
She nodded, dizzy with fear and exhaustion.
They hurtled through a narrow passage, past shuttered doors and overturned barrels.
Shouts echoed behind them, closer now. Samantha gestured toward a recessed courtyard half hidden by vines, its wrought iron gate ajar.
Without hesitation, Mr. Moreau shoved Abigail inside, then followed, pushing her back against the wall as Samantha ducked in after them.
Abigail blinked at his nearness, his body practically pressed against hers. She swallowed hard, and he lifted a finger to her lips. Silence fell around them, thick and suffocating.
Outside, boots scraped over stone.
She held her breath. Mr. Moreau’s chest brushed her shoulder with every rise and fall of his labored breathing, the heat of him seeping through the thin muslin of her dress. Samantha crouched next to them, one hand on her rapier.
A shadow passed across the gate’s threshold, stopping just outside. Abigail’s pulse thundered in her head as spots began to form around the edge of her vision. Still, she refused to draw even the slightest intake of air.
Rough voices came from the other side of the gate. “They went this way. Quickly, to the street before we lose them.”
The footsteps moved on, fading as the pirates moved away from their hiding spot.
When the last echo of boots died, Abigail let out a shuddering exhale, sagging against the solid wall of Mr. Moreau’s chest. For the briefest moment, she allowed herself to sink into his protective presence, letting the terror of the past minutes wash from her.
Samantha straightened and began to pace the small space, eyes never leaving the gate.
“What do we do now?” Abigail whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding in her ears.
He shook his head, staring at the gate. “We can’t stay here. When they realize they’ve lost us, they’ll circle back.”
Samantha let out a soft growl. “We can’t go to the harbor. They’ll be waiting for us.”
“Agreed.” Mr. Moreau’s tone held steady, though a shadow of tension crossed his face. “We’ll need to move carefully, stay out of sight. Unfortunately, you two ladies are very memorable. Every pair of eyes in this city will remember you.”
Samantha met his gaze. “Then we get out of the city.”
He ran a hand along his jaw. “If we are able to cross the river, we could make our way down Pinto Island and signal your men.”
“Your evasive maneuvers are to be commended.” They all spun as a deep voice came from behind them.
Christian stood there, his hands raised in mock surrender. Samantha reacted instantly. Her rapier flashed free from its sheath, tip glinting in the dim light.
“Samantha…” Her husband’s voice rang with warning, but she set her jaw and leveled her blade at his chest.
Mr. Moreau caught Abigail’s arm, tugging her back until she pressed flush against his chest. Heat curled through her, even as she watched her friend stand off against her husband.
Samantha swung, but he sidestepped it with a fluid twist. She came at him again, a cry tearing from her lips as she raised her rapier high.
This time, he ducked beneath her blade and caught her in a rough embrace, his mouth swooping in to catch her startled cry.
Abigail’s cheeks burned as Christian kissed Samantha with a brutal, unrelenting force.
She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her racing pulse, the raw magnetism of the situation unfolding before them tingling through her like embers stoked by the wind.
“What is wrong with these two? One minute they want to kill each other, the next…” Mr. Moreau shifted his grip, his fingers tracing the edge of her hip.
A fresh wave of heat curled through her at the contact, and she willed herself to focus on the scene in front of her rather than the fire running through her.
Samantha yanked back, gasping, shoving against Christian. He held her firm for a heartbeat longer, then finally released her, letting her stumble back a step. Her rapier clattered to the cobbles, forgotten for the moment as she fought for breath and balance.
“Listen to me.” Christian’s voice carried a dangerous edge. “I’m trying to keep you, and your friends, alive. You can only push my father so far before he snaps.”
Samantha’s eyes narrowed. “And what if he makes you choose between him and me?”
His expression softened. “I will always choose you.”
“Then stop this.” Her voice snapped. “This… whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish by joining him on his deranged mission.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t. Not now at least.” Regret laced his words and Abigail’s chest tightened as he leveled his dark gaze on her friend. The courtyard fairly crackled with the gathering tension coiling between them. “Stay away from New Orleans. All of you. Until this is over.”
Samantha shook her head, her voice coming out in a growl. “How can you ask such a thing of me? How am I supposed to leave you with him?”
“I need you to trust me, Red.” He locked eyes with her. “Promise me.”
A shaky breath escaped her as he wiped a tear free with his thumb. “Very well. But this matter isn’t over.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He gave her a brittle smile, then stepped back. “I need to go. I’ll keep them distracted so you can make it back to the ship. Head east. Better yet, go back to Savannah and wait for me.”
Abigail’s hand closed over Mr. Moreau’s as Samantha called after his retreating form. “Christian, please don’t do this.”