by Bella Falls
“Daniel, no! You cannot! You promised!” Ann bellowed.
Nicholas Vane’s toad-like tongue flickered out, and he licked his lips in greed. “Her fervor against it means it must hold some enormous value.”
“I doubt there is anything you could offer that would dissuade me from discharging my duty,” Roger proclaimed.
Daniel acknowledged Ann’s pleas with a grimace but pushed harder. “I suspect that you do not wish for her life to end any more than I do, Captain. For her life, I will trade you this item that could bring you riches far beyond any you have ever imagined. I offer you the true Rose of Neptune.” He let the object drop from his grip and dangle at the end of a long gold chain. The unearthly medallion flashed a green blue in the light of the nearby torches. “It belonged to Jack Rackham and was said to have been enchanted with the ability to find that which he desired. If you are searching for riches, gentlemen, then I offer you a way to find more than you could ever dream of. In exchange for Ann’s freedom.”
The captain attempted to approach to inspect it, but Daniel took a cautious step away from the other four men. “Neptune’s Rose was the name of the ship she scarpered off with, not some silly necklace. How can you bargain with something if we cannot ascertain its true value?” Roger scoffed.
Thomas Gandry cleared his throat, daring to interject, “While Master Jewell has refused to join our numbers within our burgeoning coven, I can attest to his ability to obtain, er, items that hold special properties.”
“It is a fool’s trick,” St. John taunted Daniel with a haughty sneer. “I myself possess special abilities to seek out what other’s want. That power cannot be held in one single object.”
“Are you threatened by it, sir?” Daniel asked. “That they may no longer need to pay you your fee if they possess this?” He held the amulet high in the air.
Roger brandished his sword. “I shall achieve that which I desire at whatever costs. And if this simple item holds that much value, then I say there is no need to bargain for her life as I can end yours just as easily and take it for myself.”
Those who stood on the perimeter watching the exchanges of words muttered in discontent. Some shouted protests at the collapse of the proceedings. Thomas waved his hands in front of him. “There is no need for further violence. As we are on my land, I will not allow more blood to be shed.”
“Need I remind you that I am the acting arm of His Majesty’s command? The soil upon which we stand belongs to the Crown, not to you,” countered Captain Moreton. “You can be stripped of it as easy as it was given unto you.”
While Daniel watched the squabbling, he found a thin blade pointed in his face. “Perhaps I should take the thing for my own use,” Nicholas Vane uttered with fiendish boldness. “If it has the ability to find treasures, then perhaps I shall possess it.”
“You will have to wait your turn, Vane,” threatened the witch hunter, coming closer. “Let me inspect it to see if it is worth what he claims.”
Nicholas turned his blade on the man in the dark cloak and sneered, his attention split between the amulet and his supposed colleague. “Why should I trust you? Once it is within your grasp, I have no faith of it ever coming to me. In addition, what can you do to examine it to prove whether or not it holds any particular powers?”
“Ah, you poor, simpleton.” St. John Hopkins cast a glance at Daniel. “Even though you are one of two mortals involved in this endeavor, neither you nor the ambitious captain have ever been wary enough of the world that exists right under your nose.” St. John Hopkins closed the distance between them, removing his glove one finger at a time. “However, I would be happy to teach you the lesson.” Once unsheathed, his right hand illuminated with the glow of magical energy.
Daniel’s heart beat a heavy rhythm. He had sown the seeds of discord to give Ann time to release herself from her bondage, and yet, he could not discern if she had freed herself. But the close proximity of the two different power struggles prevented more than furtive glances in her direction.
“Enough!” The ropes around Ann’s body exploded away from her. She held up her hands in front of her, and the air stirred to life. An unnatural wind picked up from out of nowhere.
Hope bloomed in Daniel’s chest, but no matter his attempts, he could not move forward to save her. He shouted at her over the din, “Run, Ann! Run!”
A hearty breeze whipped around the crowd until a roaring maelstrom surrounded them all. The force of the gales wrenched the torches from the hands holding them and extinguished every fire save one. Reaching out, Ann captured the handle of the final blaze.
Daniel fought harder to make his way to her, but a gust forced him down to his knees along with everyone else. Although he had guessed at the strength that lay inside of the woman who had bewitched him from the moment he had clapped eyes on her, no amount of time in the world would have been enough to discover all of her hidden depths.
“Do something!” Captain Moreton demanded of the lanky coven leader.
Thomas Gandry shook his head in refusal, shading his eyes from the debris flying around him. When he looked behind for the support of the coven, he found himself cut off by the whirlwind of her powers.
Movement to Daniel’s right caught his attention. A bright flash of light blinded him for a brief moment before his eyes could adjust to find Nicholas Vane lying on the ground with his dead eyes staring up to the heavens. The witch hunter had dared to use his power to take the life of a mortal, an offense that would cost him his life if he were ever brought to justice.
Daniel stopped staring at the dead body in time to find St. John with his hand raised again, the faint glow emanating from it brighter than before. His aim was trained on the woman in the middle of it all.
“Ann!” Daniel warned, his throat hurting from the effort.
A solitary strike of lightning burst from the sky above and crackled at the feet of the witch hunter. The explosion knocked him a few feet away onto his back, his dark cloak covering his still body.
Daniel crawled forward. “Ann, you must stop this. You cannot keep it up forever.”
“I do not intend to.” Although she created a pocket of calm solely for him, her use of such wild unleashed magic wore her down. “Do not come any closer for I know not how long I might maintain this.”
“Then stop and let us fight together,” the brokenhearted man insisted.
“In order to protect what is mine, my life is already forfeit,” Ann proclaimed. “However, there are two things I need you to do.”
A tear cleared a path down his dirty cheek. “Anything.”
Relief washed over her. “One, you must keep your promise to me. You have come dangerously close to breaking it tonight.”
“I could not let you go in silence.” Daniel reached out as if he were close enough to touch her one last time.
“And the second,” she continued, dropping the torch from her hand. It fell at her feet, embedding itself into the dead branches and kindling stronger flames. “When this ends, you do what it takes to survive and fulfill your duties. Many lives will be owed to your good works.”
“Ann,” he pleaded, the crackle of the wood on fire around her drowning out his cries.
With every inch the flames grew, the wind died a little more. Eventually, Captain Moreton broke free and stared with awe and regret at the woman embracing her fate. Caught in a rare moment of indecisiveness, his sword dropped from his hand. “Annie,” he uttered.
After a fit of coughing, she held up her head and spoke in a clear tone that cut through the last melee of her magic. “Hear me.” Her arms outstretched as if she prepared to embrace the flames licking ever closer to her body. “For acts committed against me, I swear the following. Thomas Gandry, your involvement will create a stain that will only be washed away by righting this terrible wrong. Witch hunter Hopkins’ actions against his own kind will bring about his end far quicker than any spell I could cast. And Roger Phillip Moreton, you and generations of your
bloodline will waste away while you seek and yet never find. A curse upon all who finds what is mine.”
Daniel stayed on his knees, waiting for a proclamation against him that never came. Unsaid apologies reflected in her eyes. He mouthed words from the very core of his heart that he could not lend voice to.
She nodded once in acceptance and leaned her head back, smiling. “I leave this world a free woman not bound to any man nor imprisoned against my will. And thus, I shall have my revenge.”
Her last word echoed around those who stood in watch of her death. Letting her arms down, the last of the wind fanned the flames at her feet until the fire engulfed her completely and the ashes of her body floated into the sky.
Chapter One
Present Day
Waterfront Harbor, Bellfort, NC
A seagull dive-bombed over our heads to gobble up a piece of funnel cake the kid in front of us threw into the air. Before too long, more than a few of the bird’s friends hovered around the child and her mom, who tried desperately to shoo them away with one hand while extracting the rest of the sugary treat from the little girl’s clutches.
“Someone needs to teach her to toss her pieces of funnel cake in my mouth, not give it to those beggar gulls,” I exclaimed to Luke, who turned his nose up at the fried dough confection I waved in front of his face.
He captured my hand and licked a little stray sugar off my skin before kissing the back of it. “It’s all yours, cara. I think you’re sweet enough for me.”
I grinned with goofy glee and fluttered my eyelashes at him from behind my sunglasses. “And I think you’re just trying to tempt me because you’d rather I tossed this treat and demanded you take me back to your place instead of forcing you to enjoy a little salt air and sun at the annual Pirate Festival.”
He shielded his eyes to observe the throng of people partaking in the beautiful day and silly activities. “My recollection of those who partook in the act of piracy over several centuries ago is that none of them wore a gauzy skirt with sparkles.” Luke pointed at another little girl in tights wearing a pink tutu and sporting a hand painted butterfly on her face. The black hat with a hot pink feather on her head was the only thing that suggested a hint of pirate.
“I don’t suppose in all your long years that you ever sailed on a ship that flew under a Jolly Roger?” I nudged him with my elbow. “Ever worn tall boots, a ruffly shirt, eyeliner, and one of those black hats? Ooh, and used a sword to make an enemy walk the plank? You know, swash swash, buckle buckle.” I mimicked swinging a blade around at an invisible foe in front of me.
My vampire boyfriend exploded into a fit of laughter that shook his entire hot body. He stilled my arms with an embrace. “You would be deadly with a real sword. And if I told you yes, would that inspire you to leave the festivities faster?”
I pulled away from him and raised an eyebrow. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On your pirate name.” I pointed to a nearby board that helped people build their moniker based on the initials of their real name and birthdays. “According to the sign, I would be Rusty Scarlet Hornswoggle. Other than the Scarlet part, the rest is terrible,” I declared, shoving the last huge bite of funnel cake into my mouth.
Luke read through all the different options. “If I’m going by the chart, then I would be called…Booty Peg Leg Barnacle.” He wrinkled his nose.
“Whose booty has barnacles on it?” my friend Crystal asked while towing her big bear shifter of a husband Odie along by the hand to join us.
I failed at stifling my amused chuckles, and Luke grabbed me around my sides and dug his fingers in, tickling me until I ran out of breath. Squirming in his grasp, I begged my friends for assistance. “Help! Booty Barnacle’s got me.”
A small boy with an eyepatch and a hand-drawn curly mustache pointed his wooden sword at my boyfriend. “Let the pretty lady go,” he demanded with the cutest little frown he could muster.
Luke stopped and held up his hands. “As you command, Captain Kid,” he said, and added a crisp salute.
Pleased as punch, the boy’s frown turned into a great big grin. “I’m not a captain, so you don’t have to salute me. I’m just Mikey. Mikey Caine. But my dad’s a deputy, so maybe you can salute him,” the boy rambled before searching around for his father. When he didn’t spot him right away, he started to panic.
The mustache he sported should have reminded me who he was related to. While Deputy Sheriff Caine remained at the top of my list of people I didn’t particularly care for, my personal feelings wouldn’t squash the need to help out his innocent son.
Crouching down until I faced him at his level, I pulled off my sunglasses and perched them on top of my head so he could see my eyes. “I’m sure your father got a little lost, that’s all. How about my friend goes to look for him while you and I stay right where we are and figure out what your pirate name might be.”
Luke nodded once and disappeared. Odie and Crystal flanked either side of the sign and read out the rules to the little boy. I hugged him around his shoulders, trying not to squeeze him too hard for being so stinking cute with his tongue stuck out in concentration.
“My first name ends with an L, my middle name is Andrew like my Pop Pop,” he explained, his brow furrowed with serious intent.
“And your last name starts with a C,” I finished for him.
Odie went down the lists with his finger. “Then, you would be known as…Mad Stinky Breath Jones. Hey, that’s a pretty cool name, buster.” The big guy leaned down and offered his hand for a high five.
“Michael Andrew Caine,” the deputy shouted as he ran in our direction, attempting not to spill the cups of lemonade in his hands. “I asked you not to leave my side today. What have we had talks about when we’re out in big crowds? Your mother would kill me if you got lost or something.” A shadowed expression crossed his face, and I recognized it as one I’d witnessed on other police officers from their history with their jobs.
Oblivious to his dad’s worry, Mikey waved his sword, almost knocking the cups of lemonade to the ground. “That’s not my name. I’m…what was I called again? Something Stinky?” he looked up at Odie.
Crystal’s husband looked around at the rest of us adults. He cleared his throat to hide the awkwardness of the situation. “Uh, I think it was Mad Stinky Breath Jones.”
Mikey cut his sword through the air again, forcing us to take a step back. “See? I’m Stinky Breath just like you told me when you said I had to brush my teeth, which you know I hate to do and now I shouldn’t have to because that’s my pirate’s name. Yar!” he growled.
His dad’s face vacillated between exasperation and fierce protection. Despite my dislike of how the deputy executed his job, I couldn’t help but empathize with the father. In an attempt to help, I took the two cups from Deputy Caine with a nod. He dropped to his knees and grasped his son’s shoulders, opening his mouth to say something. When he saw his son’s eyes wide with surprise, he closed his mouth and yanked him into a big hug.
Mikey dropped his sword on the ground and patted his father on the back. “Somethin’ wrong, Daddy?” he asked, his bottom lip starting to tremble a little.
The deputy heaved a big sigh, and his shoulders relaxed a bit. He released his son and ruffled his hair. “No, not anymore. But can you try to keep your promise and be a bit more careful to stay by my side?”
Mikey dropped his chin to his chest in embarrassment. “Okay, Dad. I promise to try my best. I won’t let Mommy get angry at you.”
Deputy Caine’s mustache twitched under his nose as he sniffed. “I’m sorry I said that, Michael. That’s not on you.” He hugged him one more time before letting him go and standing up. “Now, I left your hot dog at the stand, so we’ll have to go back and fetch it.”
“I’ve got it right here,” Luke stated from behind the deputy. He handed off the boy’s snack and nodded his head in curt respect.
Waiting until Deputy Caine gave the hot dog to Mik
ey, I handed him back the two cups of lemonade. “Here you go.”
The flustered man took them from me, barely meeting my sympathetic gaze. “Thanks, Ms. Jewell. I’m sorry if he was any trouble.”
Crystal picked up the wooden sword from the ground. “A fearsome pirate like this little guy could never be that much trouble.” Since Mikey was occupied with demolishing his hot dog, she slipped the kid’s weapon under his father’s arm for safe keeping.
The deputy emitted a tired scoff, a hint of a smile spreading underneath his mustache. “I wish that were true.”
“I’m sure it can be tough being a single father with your job,” I stated with sincere sympathy, smiling at the glob of mustard at the corner of his son’s mouth.
Deputy Caine straightened into an authoritative stance. “Yes, well, I’m sure that is none of your business, Ms. Jewell.” He nodded with curt abruptness. “Thank you all for your help. We’ll be going now.”
Mikey waved at us as his little feet attempted to keep up with his dad’s big steps. I winced with regret, realizing my mouth had run far ahead of my brain when I spoke. “I guess that answers the question of whether or not his treatment at the wardens’ facility changed his personality. He still doesn’t care for me very much.”
“That’s right, I forgot he had to have his memories altered,” Crystal exclaimed in her usual boisterous tone until her husband shushed her.
Lieutenant Alwin, one of the deputy’s colleagues and a higher-ranking warden in our area, had taken a huge risk when she took Deputy Caine out of commission using magic, even though he was jeopardizing her operation to stop a dangerous witch gone rogue. The last news I’d heard about Tara Langston, who’d spellbound our friend Gloria into almost killing our longtime friend and new groom Harrison, she was being kept under magical psychiatric watch at one of the warden detention centers nearby.
