Inching up to the door between their chambers, Emeline listened for the sound of a female voice, a murmur, a lover’s whisper. Nothing aside from a groan and the creak of a bed made its way to her ears. If Blake was alone, it wouldn’t take long for the demons to begin their torment and him to require her presence. Pah. She’d have to wait a while longer.
b
“You wish me to seduce him?” Josephine set the lantern on a table in her chamber—the one where Blake had imprisoned her with a single guard outside. A single guard! Pff! An insult.
It hadn’t taken Maston long to find her, send the guard off on some duty, and enter the room.
Drawing her close, the popinjay kissed her neck, inhaling her perfume with an intoxicating groan. “That should be no trouble. I see the way he looks at you. The way every man looks at you.”
Josephine smiled at the compliment. “But I only want you,mon amour.”
Maston wrapped his arms around her. “After this, we will be together forever.”
Or until she grew weary of him, which was fast approaching now that he’d served his usefulness. How fortuitous to have run into the fool, Maston, on Basseterre. Even more fortuitous had been to lure him to her bed and discover he was the bosun on board Blake’s ship, theSummons. Imagine her surprise at hearing that the young cockerel had survived being deserted on an island, and even more surprising was his success, his island, and the tale Maston told about a mysterious Ring Blake had gone to great lengths to acquire in a card game. All information the French fop happily conveyed in the throes of passion.Solomon’s Ring! The ancient artifact coveted by all who dabbled in the mystical arts. It must be the one. Rumors had circulated throughout the Caribbean that it had been found. And though her powers as a witch were great, she must possess it. She must!
Thus, she expressed her undying love for Maston, along with her interest in the Ring, and he leapt and yapped and groveled at her feet like a puppy willing to do her every bidding.
Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and caressed his hair. “How am I to get it from him?”
“Do you have the laudanum I gave you?” he asked.
“Oui, in my pocket.” Little did the fool know she’d added a potion of her own.
Excitement with a hint of desire sparked in his dark eyes. “Put it in his rum. Insist he drink it before he beds you. Then, wait until he drifts off to sleep, and you’ll have your chance.”
With a feminine sigh, she pushed from him, turned, and sashayed away, a move she’d made dozens of times with dozens of admirers. She must never appear too eager, too forward. Men like Maston enjoyed a challenge. His strong arms curled around her waist from behind, and he leaned to kiss her neck once again.
“I’m mad with love for you, Josephine.”
“Then let us get the Ring and rule the world together.”
b
Hot! Why was it so hot? The crackle of flames pressed against Blake’s ears as searing tongues licked his skin. His eyes popped open. He stood on the edge of a jagged cliff. A black cloak blanketed the sky where nary a star could be seen. One peek over the side revealed yellow and red flames leaping and cavorting into the night from a molten lake bubbling like a boiling pot of crimson stew.
Horrified, he backed away. Into something solid. Reaching for his cutlass, he spun. No hilt met his fingers. No human met his gaze. At least not a living one. A black skeleton stared at him from hollow gaping holes where eyes once had been. Flesh began to grow over bone, slowly at first, like tar over oakum, then faster, filling in gaps with muscle and veins.
Blake started to dash around the horrifying figure. Dozens of gray shifting specters appeared, moaning obscenities, forcing him back. Behind him, the molten lake, before him loathsome ghouls. More flesh took form over the bones, eyes filled sockets, nails on fingers, and finally hair appeared.
“Hello, little mongrel.” His father smiled wickedly.
“Leave me alone!” Blake roared, charging past the man toward the demons. Better them than his father. Or the lake of fire.
His father clutched his arm, digging nails into his skin. “You sent me to hell! Now you will join me!” He dragged Blake to the edge of the cliff. Fighting with all his strength, Blake punched, kicked, and clawed, but to no avail against his father’s otherworldly power. One final push sent Blake careening over the side…falling…falling toward the searing flames.
“Nay!”
Blake sat up in bed. Sweat moistened his forehead and neck. Breathing hard, he swung his legs over the side and dropped his head into his hands.
He needed Emeline. Hang it. He needed her!
Pushing to his feet, he raked back his hair and started for her chamber when his own door creaked open. With lightning speed, he plucked his cutlass from the table and charged forward. “Who goes there?”
“Only me,mon amour.” The feminine French accent scraped over him. A sour taste rose in his mouth.
His door shut, and the curvaceous figure slithered his way. “Do put down your blade, Blake. I have not come to fight. Quite the opposite.”
Groaning, Blake set down his sword and lit a lantern. Josephine stepped into the light, a tiger on the prowl, a rather scantily dressed tiger wearing naught but a sheer night dress that left little to his imagination.
