Devil's Own

Page 53

“I know just the thing,” she said brightly, heading straight for Fraser’s suitcase and his grim cargo. She pulled out a pair of steel cuffs, dangling them. “Shall we throw away the key?”
He laughed again. “You’re full of surprises. I only regret that the Endeavor has left port.” He knelt to shackle Fraser’s hands. “I’ve half a mind to put this one in the hold so he can spend the rest of his days laboring on some other man’s plantation.”
She sighed, regretful of one thing. “I’m sorry you couldn’t get Captain Will.”
“You’ll get your chance,” a voice announced from the doorway.
She startled, but Aidan only froze, as though turned to stone. Standing in the doorway was the man with the black pearl, and he was seething.
Above that normal body, those normal clothes, his face was distorted into a mask of rage. Elspeth’s eyes were drawn downward, and her flesh crawled to see the weapon dangling from his hand. He held a large ax—a sailor’s boarding ax—its flat head tapering into a lethally sharp spike. She knew such a thing was used as both tool and weapon, to hack through rigging, to hook and drag timber across deck, to climb and board another ship. And, of course, to slaughter men.
“So happy you could join us,” Aidan said. He rose, unsheathing his sword. “I’ve been dreaming of this for thirteen long years.”
But the captain ignored him, glaring only at Elspeth. “I believe you took something of mine. I’ll not leave without it.” He strolled toward her, swinging that gruesome weapon. “And I’ve had second thoughts. I think I might take you with me after all.”
“No.” Aidan stepped in front of her. “You won’t.”
The captain peered at him, as though seeing him for the first time. His lips peeled into a slow smile. “I see the little chimney rat has grown up.” He scanned up and down Aidan’s body, sneering at the sword in his hand. “You overreach, boy.”
With a feral growl, Aidan attacked, slashing his sword down hard, but the captain grabbed his ax in both hands—one gripping the base, one the head—stopping the blade with its handle.
Aidan pressed forward, feinting and thrusting. “And you’re overmatched,” he said, slashing diagonally again and again.
“You won’t beat me, chimney boy.” The captain bobbed back, blocking the onslaught with the handle of his weapon. “You’re naught but chattel to sell at market.”
“And you’re naught but an aging cur.” Aidan had him pinned in the corner, and Elspeth inched as close as possible to watch.
“Well suited, we are. Both men without homes.” The captain edged along the wall, and spun free of the trap. Suddenly it was Aidan who found himself in the corner, his sword useless at so close a range. “The difference is, you’re a man without options.”
Elspeth gasped then clamped her hand over her mouth. She dared not create a distraction. Her eyes flitted across the room, looking for some weapon, some way to help. Her head buzzed with energy, her body quivering with the need to act.
The captain switched his ax to one hand and hauled back for the kill. “But now it’s time for you to die.”
Captain Will swung, and though the ax was lethal, it was clumsy, too, and Aidan managed to duck out of its path. The captain swung again, and again Aidan managed to dodge him.
But with no shield for blocking, Aidan would soon tire of hopping to and fro. Soon the blow would come that he’d be unable to evade.
She scanned the room again, and this time her eyes lit on the bellows. Not a shield, but better than nothing. “Here,” she called, tossing it to him.
The captain laughed, swatting the ax leisurely in the flat of his palm. “A bellows? Think you to gust and puff me to death?” Face freezing into a grimace, he exploded to action, and this time when he swung, the bellows stopped his blow.
“To death? You misunderstand me.” Aidan pried his impromptu shield free and darted around the captain. A quick glance showed that though it was edged in metal, the bellows had been hacked halfway through. “I won’t kill you. I’ll see you suffer as I have.”
Aidan prowled toward the captain, a cold smile on his face, and at the last minute, threw the bellows at him. The pirate was momentarily distracted, and Aidan slashed his sword deeply across the man’s torso.
Captain Will looked in disbelieving horror at his belly.
“Gutted like a fish,” he said with eerie calm. He raised his ax to strike, but his swing was awkward.
Aidan blocked, then knocked the ax from the pirate’s hand. He shoved the man to his knees. “And caught like one.”
Aidan glanced at Fraser’s suitcase, and Elspeth understood at once. She retrieved a second pair of shackles, this one more elaborate, with four cuffs connected by long lengths of chain suited for hands and feet. “But don’t you want to kill him?” she asked quietly.
“And spare others the pleasure of watching him swing from the gallows?” He used the butt of his sword to knock the man onto his haunches. “Nor would I rob him of the many pleasures he has in store. First, I’m going to sell that pretty pearl, and rather than use it to pay for his burial, I’ve a mind to split the money among the men in his hold.”
The captain’s head was lolling now, and he looked ready to topple.
Aidan clicked the first metal cuff around the man’s wrist. “Extra tight, aye? Don’t fret—the bleeding will stop in a few weeks’ time, and the skin will toughen nicely. Trust me. Eventually, you won’t feel pain through the scars. If you evade the noose for that long.”
As Aidan opened the second cuff, Captain Will sprang up.
Elspeth shrieked.
Despite his bloody belly, there was fire in the captain’s eyes, and he leaped onto Aidan, winding the metal chain about his neck. “I’ll teach you pain.”
“You’ve already taught me.” He kneed the pirate in the gut, and his breeches came back bloodied. “It’s a lesson I’ve mastered,” he managed to say through gritted teeth.
Aidan kneed again, and again, but the man remained standing, his face flushed crimson with the effort of keeping the chain coiled tightly around Aidan’s neck.
Elspeth watched in horror as the captain merely stood there, clinging to the chain, refusing to fall. Aidan’s lips were a ghastly shade of blue, his skin mottled white and red. There was something strange about his body, and she realized he wasn’t breathing.
Fight. She willed him to fight, and knew she needed to fight too. She ran for the damaged bellows, but Aidan took action before she could.
He butted his head forward, slamming his forehead into the pirate’s nose. The man’s grip on the chain slackened, and Aidan pounced toward him. He snatched the captain’s head at the jaw and forehead, and with a quick yank, snapped his neck. Captain Will’s body crashed to the floor, its deadweight making an ungainly, thundering sound, like firewood tumbling from a stack.
Aidan unwound the chain from his throat, coughing and gasping for air. He nudged the man’s body with his foot. “I’ve mastered the lesson, but now it’s time for me to move on.”
His eyes sought hers, and seeing Elspeth’s trauma, he ran to her, cradling her in his arms. He swallowed hard, and it looked painful. “I’m all right. I’ve suffered far worse.”
She chafed freezing hands along his arms. “You must lie down,” she insisted, tugging him to the settee.
“I’ll do no such thing.” His hoarse chuckle turned into another round of coughing. “I told you, luvvie, the only place I’m going is to fetch the minister.”
He spun her to face him, his eyes glittering with intensity. “Your father can hunt me, he can challenge me all he dares. But I will claim you, Beth. I’ve voice enough to speak vows, and I will wed you before the sun goes down.”
The words were more exhilarating than any she could’ve imagined from any storybook. His eyes sparked with intent, his desire only for her. All she could do was manage a nod in answer.
He swept her into his arms, pulling her from her feet in a kiss. She tasted salt on his lips, and for a moment, she was his pirate bride, and the sea their kingdom.
Too soon he pulled from her. “I will make you mine. But first, I must go and do one more thing.”
She knew instantly what he was about. “You’re going to free the slaves.” At his nod, she told him, “I’m coming with you. We’ll do it together.”
“I hoped you’d say that,” he said, taking her hand in his. His grip was warm and sure.
She began to speak. “Because from now on—”
“We do everything together,” Aidan said, completing her thought as surely as he’d completed her.
Epilogue
Aidan sat with Elspeth, nestled cozily on a bed of hay, in the makeshift barn Angus had helped him build.
Elspeth. His wife.
When he returned from the Indies, he thought he’d suffered all a man could suffer. Had lost all there was a man could lose. Until he’d met and almost lost her.
She held a baby lamb in her lap, carefully clearing the animal’s eyes. “It seems a peculiar flaw to be born with one’s eyelashes poking into one’s eyes.”
The creatures were tiny and helpless, but like many lambs, they’d been born with their lashes in their eyes. And, piteous as it was, Aidan adored watching her care for them.
He brushed a hand along its downy white wool. “They don’t seem to suffer for it. And besides, what creature wouldn’t want your kindly ministrations?”
Elspeth looked up at him with a smile. She’d donned her spectacles, and they were slipping down the bridge of her nose. The sight of her rumpled and bookish appearance stabbed his heart through with tenderness.
He gently pushed her glasses up for her and cleared the hair from her brow. “If only we had a real barn for such work.”
“The new place will be finished soon enough,” she said. “You’ve been working so hard—too hard. I regret that my father can’t find it in his heart to share any of his newfound riches.”