TheSummonswould be safe in the shelter of the island. But not the Venetian Frigate. Too big to seek safety in the bay, it would surely be driven into rocks and reefs and damaged beyond repair. Unless they raised sails and scudded out to sea before the wind. Which was exactly what Blake counted on.
Saber still raised, Della Morte glanced up at the angry sky, now black and churning like a witch’s cauldron. The wind grew fiercer. Sand spun in cyclones, buffeting Jesuits and pirates alike, both of whom had ceased fighting and were bumbling about.
Della Morte made one more attempt to slice Blake, but the wind plucked his saber from his grip as if it were made of parchment. His desperate eyes latched upon the Ring on Blake’s finger. He struggled to reach it, wrestling against wind and sand, but both shoved him back.
With a mighty growl, the black clouds above them released bucketfuls of rain, drenching everything in sight.
“Back to theGuerrieri Della Croce!” Della Morte howled above the torrent.
Straining to stand upright, Blake could barely distinguish the Jesuits’ blurry figures fading into the sand.
“Take cover, men!” Struggling to walk, he finally found the boulder and dropped behind it. Emeline lay curled in a ball, and he covered her with his body against the raging wind and rain.
b
Emeline had wanted to watch the battle. Had wanted to make a dash for it into the jungle should it appear the Jesuits were winning. But the storm Blake had unleashed with the Ring not only forbade her to move, it ripped the breath from her lungs. She covered her head with her hands and did her best to shield herself from the sand that stung like grapeshot and the wind punching her from every side.
When Blake covered her with his body, an odd stillness settled on her heart. She felt protected, not merely from wind and rain, but from other dangers as well. Which of course made no sense, for the man had proven himself naught but a depraved pirate. Yet his warmth and unique scent soothed her, giving her a reprieve from the storm raging from within and the one from without. No doubt this strange sensation was only because his presence meant he and his men had been victorious over the Jesuit band. Whether that was a good thing for her, she could not know. Though if given the choice, she’d much rather be in the company of these pirates than Jesuits, for she’d sensed an evil, an insidious darkness about them that was absent even from the bloodthirsty buccaneers.
Raindrops bounced off the boulder, then poured down in rivulets, forming a puddle beneath her, soaking her skirts. To her right, a thousand drops pummeled the sand like the deafening march of a demonic army. Sand became silt. The pounding turned to splashing as a surge of seawater crashed over them. Waves were overtaking the tiny island!
In an instant, Blake’s warmth was gone. Strong hands gripped her arms and hauled her to her feet. Flinging an arm around her waist, he dove into the wind and dragged her to a band of trees. Others joined them, blurry, shifting figures. Somewhere she heard Bandit screeching.
In moments, her gown grew heavy with rain, dragging behind her. She tried to open her eyes, but the rain and sand forced them shut again.
“You are safe!” She thought she heard Blake shout, but it seemed a mere figment of her imagination. Shefelt,rather than saw the trees swaying around her, giant monsters coming to life by the power of the storm. Their creak and groan reminded her of a ship at sea, the clamor of their buffeted leaves near deafening. Still, their towering presence offered a limited fortress against the elements. Finally, she was able to open her eyes. The first thing she saw was Blake’s concerned expression as he lowered her to sit beside the sturdy trunk of a calabash tree. Water dripped from strands of his dark hair as it billowed about him. Rain glistened over his neck and chest and glued his shirt to muscle and sinew. The cross and sun emblem dangled before him.
“Stay here,” he shouted. Then gripping the Ring still around his finger, he struggled to stand against the wind and peered toward the shore.
Several of his crew surrounded them, hunching against the storm as Bandit leapt into her lap and clung to her for dear life.
What was Blake waiting for? Why did he not use the Ring to stop this madness before they were all swept away?Lord, please help us!
The eerie whine of the wind lessened. The trees slowed their raucous dance. The torrent of rain became droplets. ’Twas as if the storm had spent its fury, satisfied its anger, and now drifted off to lick its wounds. Within moments, golden daggers of sunlight cleaved through dark clouds and speared the canopy.
Emeline wiped water from her eyes and glanced up at Blake standing before her, rubbing the Ring. He shook his head, scattering rainwater over her before uttering a yelp of victory.
His men rose like sodden skeletons from their graves, shaking off moisture and grinning with exhilaration at simply being alive. A few bore bloody gashes, but most looked well enough.
Sweeping off his tricorn, Maston tipped it and chuckled at the stream pouring from it to the ground. Finn fished out his pipe from inside his waistcoat and sniffed the sodden tobacco with a scowl. Shoving it back into his pocket, he tugged off his gray bandana and wrung it out, his bald head glistening in a shaft of sunlight. Rummy drew a flask from his drenched coat, uncorked it, and took a sip.
Bandit finally released Emeline, but instead of skittering away, he wrapped his hairy arms around her neck and hugged her. At least she had one friend she could count on in this mad adventure. Still, he made it difficult for her to stand, especially with her heavy skirts that were now hopelessly tangled around her legs.
Waterplip-ploppedfrom leaves onto muddy puddles, but thank God the wind had lessened into a light breeze. She attempted to stand again.
A hand appeared in her vision—a large hand with the Ring on one finger. She followed it to find Blake’s handsome face smiling at her from within a frame of wet dark hair.
Smiling?
He had rescued her. At great risk to his ship and crew.Andto the Ring. When there was no need, no reason to take such a gamble. Why?
For a moment she allowed herself to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a bit of gallantry lurking beneath the surface of the shallow, vainglorious pirate—that perhaps he was the hero she’d sought all her life.
Clinging to Bandit with one hand, she gripped Blake’s with her other, and he swooped her to her feet. Unfortunately, her saturated web of skirts upset her balance, and she fell against him. His torso was rock-hard, his shirt cold, his breath warm, and his smile salacious.
Shoving from him, she looked away, confused at her body’s reaction.
“Yer plan worked.” Finn was the first to speak up, drawing Blake’s gaze. “Leastwise wit’ a little ’elp from a storm.”