The brig rolled over a wave, and Finn gripped the railing and leaned closer to Blake, his gaze landing on the Ring. “Jist be careful, Cap’n,” he whispered over the wind. “If word got out ’bout the power o’ that Ring, I wouldn’t put it past ’hem to pry it off yer dead finger.” He shrugged. “Even if it don’t work that way.”
The sinister tone in his quartermaster’s voice gave Blake pause. Spreading his boots out for balance, he crossed arms over his chest, uneasy at the look of desire in Finn’s eyes as he stared at the Ring. “They are welcome to try. Now, back to work.”
Tearing his gaze from the Ring, Finn ambled away as theSummonscompleted its tack.
Thus far, only Maston and Finn had a clue about the Ring’s power. And Blake intended to keep it that way.
“Sheet home and belay!” Maston shouted.
“Steady as she goes,” Blake added. If only he could order his life to continue on a steady path as easily. But as he glanced over Maston, Finn, Charlie, Rummy, and the rest of his crew, he wondered if he could trust any of them. Nay. There was no one in this world he could trust. Not even himself, for he could not deny he’d felt something stir within him when he’d rescued Emeline…when she’d looked at him with hope and perhaps a bit of admiration?
Hang it! He must not fall for her womanly tricks! He’d learned the hard way with Josephine Arnaud that no woman could be trusted. Not even comely ones with hearts of gold.
When the sun sank beneath the horizon in a glorious array of maroons, tangerines, and gold, Blake relinquished command of the helm and retreated to his cabin. Soon a supper of salted pork, ship biscuits, and peas was brought in, but he took little pleasure in dining with his officers, most of whom overindulged in drink, save Charlie and Pedro. And all of whom inquired as to why he’d not invited Emeline.
In truth, he had no idea, except he preferred not to address the discordant emotions she caused whenever she was near. Which made no sense. Hadn’t he brought her on board to chase away his demons? She couldn’t very well do that locked up in a cabin down the hall.
Thus the reason he poured himself another glass of rum, hoping to settle his mind. All it did was increase his confusion. Instead, he dismissed his officers, ordered the crewmen to clean up the mess, and waited for the door to slam, granting him silence at last.
Outside the stern windows, a myriad of stars lit the ebony sky, some clustered together, others alone yet just as bright as their grouped companions. Much like Blake. He needed no one. ’Twas those with power who ruled the world, the taskmasters, not the workers, the decision-makers not the order-takers, those who were outside the reach of the world’s heartaches, betrayals, and disasters. Blake twisted the Ring on his finger. With this relic, he was well on his way to achieving such power.
Indeed, he needed no one. Especially not a woman. Tossing the last of his rum into his mouth, he stumbled to his cot, tore off his shirt, and lay down. A good night’s sleep would certainly erase all his uncertainty and set him back on course.
“Blake….Blake…” The oily voice, distant yet vibrating like a band of insects, emerged from another world. Blake waved it away, mumbling, ignoring…
More voices joined, prodding, jabbing, poking at his consciousness. Grabbing the long knife he kept by his bed, he jerked to sit, stabbing the air before him.
The dark shadows returned. Only this time, they were larger, thicker, swaying with the movement of the ship…yet not with any worldly movement. Their bodies twisted, breaking in half, shrinking, growing, and then coming together again like no human’s could.
“Get rid of the woman. Get rid of the woman. Kill her. Kill her...” the voices chanted.
Blake heard his father’s distinct tone before the man even appeared, that harsh cadence that had always sent Blake cowering as a boy. Shoving through the specters, he limped, holding his belly. Blood bubbled between his fingers. “Why? Why, son?”
Nay!He could not face him again!
Leaping from his bed, he raced out of his cabin and down the hall, grabbing the first crewman he saw and handed him a key. “Get the woman and bring her to my cabin at once!”
Then making his way back, he left the door open and paced through the misty shadows, covering his ears. Air, cold and frosty bit his skin. “Kill her. Kill her.”
He knew the moment Emeline entered the room. The soothing sounds of water gushing against the hull and the creak of timbers replaced the hellish howls. He opened his eyes.
The demons were gone.
b
The door to Emeline’s cabin swung open, striking the bulkhead. She leapt from her cot, heart thundering. “Who is it?” she yelped, peering into the darkness. A shadow approached, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the hallway. ’Twas one of the crew she’d not met.
“Cap’n wants ye,” was all he said as his foul stench stung her nose.
Her blood froze. So, this was it. The moment she feared most of all. A quickLord, help?was all she managed to pray before the pirate shoved her through the captain’s door and slammed it behind her.
Moonlight trickled in through the windows, shifting over the captain’s desk to the deck and back again. She heard rather than saw the captain standing not three feet from her. His breath came loud and fast. An unusual chill gripped her, and she hugged herself.
“Are you ill?” she dared ask, wondering why he stood in the dark and why she sensed naught but turmoil surrounding him.
Perhaps because he knew what he was about to do.
“Nay,” he finally said, moving to the desk where he struck flint to steel and lit a lantern.
