Pirate's Passion

by Lisa Kessler

  Other than his crew and the government agent, Char was the only person in the world who knew his secret.

  Honesty scared the shit out of him. But instead of walking away, he ached to please her, to discover what made her smile. Apparently, immortality hadn’t made him any more intelligent. Fuck.

  Ignoring his better judgment, he asked, “Got a request for the shanty at the end of the show tonight?”

  He took a swig of his beer, trying to remind himself he’d be leaving soon, and attachments to mortals led to madness when time lay before you like an endless desert.

  She took another sip of her drink. “How about ‘Row Bullies Row’?”

  “I’m impressed.” He grinned. “Char appreciates the classics.”

  “She’s also sitting right next to you.” She smirked and leaned back on her stool as the bartender placed her plate in front of her. Her dark eyes met Keegan’s. “Did you ask me to come by early to make a song request or…?”

  Damn, he’d almost forgotten. He leaned a little closer, keeping his voice hushed. “One of my crew got a lead about two men trying to buy the cup. They were wearing serpent rings.”

  He didn’t mention the “lead” was actually a psychic’s vision. Char was a historian. She believed facts came from books, not visions in crystal balls. It was a small miracle she accepted he was much older than he looked.

  She picked up a fry from her plate, a crease forming between her brows. “That’s the second time I’ve heard about a serpent ring today. Were the rings antiques?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Short version, there used to be a group that fancied themselves descendants of Eden. In my day, they hunted for holy relics, leaving death and destruction in their wake until they had their prize.”

  “The serpent was the villain of that story.” Her gaze wandered over his face, and again an unfamiliar fear swelled in his gut. She wasn’t eyeing him like a fan or a woman looking for a night of bedsheet bliss. This was altogether new for him. Outside of his crew, he didn’t piece together plots with mortals. To an outsider, he was a carefree musician, nothing more.

  But Char seemed to know better.

  He shifted on his stool, suddenly uncomfortable sharing more secrets, but they needed her help. After another swallow of his beer, he met her eyes. “They used to stick to the shadows and snap up relics like birds picking the meat off sun-bleached bones. We thought they died out, but if they’re still around, any history you could dig up on them here in Savannah might give us a place we can start searching for their nest.”

  “Like old title deeds.” She took a bite of her hamburger.

  “That might work, although I’m not sure they’d mention the Serpent Society.”

  She dipped a fry in ketchup. “And you don’t want Agent Bale to know about this side research?”

  “Aye.” He nodded slowly. “If we get the chance, we’ll reclaim our booty without the government looking over our shoulder.”

  She swallowed her food, her gaze lifting to his face. “I did do some digging into your crew just to help wrap my brain around all this. I found a deed for Samuel Keegan. That’s you, right?”

  Centuries had passed since anyone called him by the name his mother had given him, and now this woman had used it twice.

  “Samuel is gone just like my ship.” Keegan finished off the rest of his beer in a single swallow and stood up. “See you after the show.”

  …

  Charlotte waited for him to turn back, but Keegan vanished behind the backdrop without so much as a glance over his shoulder. Apparently she’d struck a sore spot, but was he more upset that she knew his real first name or that she must’ve found the deed to the orphanage?

  Samuel Keegan had been alive since the 1700s. She had so many questions. Did he still get sick? Did injuries heal faster? Had he been married before?

  Where had the final question come from? She blinked. There were more important things to discover. Had he owned businesses? How did he transfer his money when it was time to start over with a new identity? And how much of Savannah had changed since he came ashore?

  She finished her drink and poked at the cherry in the bottom of the glass with the plastic buccaneer sword. Music came to life from the stage, pulling her attention. Cheers echoed through the bar as Keegan reached for the mic.

  “Hey, Savannah! The Scallywags are here, ready to rock your night, so keep the rum flowing and the ladies close.” He counted off, and the band launched into their cover of “So Into You,” but unlike the other times she’d seen them perform the song, Keegan’s gaze locked on hers, like no one else in the bar existed.

  By the time he finally broke eye contact and started working the rest of the crowd, heat flooded her veins like a wildfire. Holy crap. She’d spent her life with her nose buried in books. She’d had a couple of boyfriends, but none of them could handle her commitment to her career.

  Being around Keegan made her forget everything. She became keenly aware she was a woman. And he was most definitely a man.

  She ordered another drink.

  They closed their set with a cover of “And When I Die.” Keegan blew a mean harmonica. She loved their version, swaying to the beat on the barstool. When he got to the final chorus, Keegan slowed the tempo, closing his eyes as he belted out the words. He gripped the mic in both hands, the stage lights sparkling on the rings on his fingers, and Charlotte’s vision blurred as the words took on a whole new meaning.

  What if there was no death and no one to carry on your legacy? You watched the world move on, leaving you behind in the history books. For Keegan, while he might not experience death firsthand, he’d be surrounded by it, suffocated in its embrace with no escape in sight. No final rest, no afterlife with loved ones. Just forever losing them.

  The crowd roared as he opened his eyes and took a bow with the rest of the band. He introduced all of them, then jogged offstage. A minute later, he returned in his leather frock coat and his guitar in hand. Hooking the strap over his shoulder, he leaned into the mic. “It’s a Scallywags tradition to finish the night with a sea shanty for all the pirates out there.” He put his hand to his ear as everyone—Charlotte included—let out their best pirate “Argh!”

  Keegan chuckled with a sexy sparkle in his eyes as he scanned the crowd. Charlotte’s pulse raced when he smiled at her and let his pirate swagger out for all to see. “This one be for all the buccaneers out there. Weigh anchor and hoist the sails, ‘Row Bullies Row’!”

  He finished the song, and the crowd rewarded him with a standing ovation. Charlotte ordered one more drink while the band packed up. It was half gone by the time Keegan slid onto the stool beside her.

  He leaned on the bar with a crooked smile. “Enjoy the show?”

  “Very much.” She nodded.

  He glanced at the stage with a wistful sigh. “Too bad I don’t have a dressing room here.”

  “That is too bad.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I had rum and everything.”

  “Poor planning on my part, lass.” He glanced at her drink. “Need a ride home?”

  She started to say no when her phone buzzed. She took it out of her bag and frowned at the screen. Three missed calls from a number she didn’t recognize. She plugged one ear and clicked on her voicemail.

  Dr. Sinclair, it’s Agent Bale. I need to speak with you right away. Call me back, even if it’s late. It’s about the Grail. You could be in danger.

  Adrenaline killed her buzz, leaving her jumpy and on edge. She spent most of her time digging into the past, so the biggest danger was missing a step on her way down to the basement admin offices at the maritime museum.

  Keegan’s smile faded. “What’s wrong? You’re white as the Sea Dog’s sails.”

  “It had black sails.”

  He shook his head. “We had both.” He glanced around the bar. “Did someone threaten you?”

  “No.” She waited for him to meet her eyes. “Agent Bale left me a voicemail to call right away.
He thinks I may be in danger.”

  A muscle jumped in Keegan’s cheek as he reached for her hand, leading her out the back exit. The seductive rock star who had been onstage a few minutes before was gone, leaving her alone with…a pirate.

  He opened the passenger side of his truck and helped her inside without a word. Once he was behind the wheel, he finally looked over at her. “Call him back. Tell him we’ll wait for him on the Sea Dog.”

  “The ship?”

  He didn’t respond. She pressed the callback number, and Agent Bale answered on the first ring. “Dr. Sinclair, thanks for calling back. Have you found anything?”

  She glanced at Keegan’s profile as she spoke. “Not about a pirate crew and the Grail, but I did find notes on the Santa Maria. When the ghost ship was located, the story spread that the holy treasure was missing, and the crew was dead, but there was something else.”

  His steps echoed through the phone. “Where are you? We should talk in person.”

  “I’m with Keegan.”

  Keegan’s grip tightened on the wheel. “Tell him where to meet us.”

  Charlotte faced forward. “Meet us on the deck of the Sea Dog.”

  “On my way. Stay with Keegan.”

  The call ended before she could respond. She pushed her cell back into her purse. “Why are we going to the tourist ship?”

  “It’s more than that.” He made a right-hand turn, his expression grim in the yellow light of the streetlamp.

  “You know what’s going on.” She cleared her throat, wishing she could command her pulse to slow. “Does this have something to do with the Serpent people you were telling me about?”

  He shrugged and parked along the edge of River Street. “I can’t say it doesn’t, and until I know for sure, we’re not taking any chances.”

  After killing the engine, he reached underneath the driver’s seat and pulled out a zippered pouch. He unzipped it and took out a Glock.

  Charlotte’s eyes widened. “That’s a gun.”

  “Aye.” He met her eyes, a hint of a smile teasing his lips as his true accent bled into his voice. “Did ye really think I’d still be firing a flintlock pistol, lass?”

  He lifted his pants leg, exposing a jewel-handled dagger in a worn leather sheath. “But I do still keep this one. She bore me through many battles.”

  Charlotte struggled to stop herself from reaching out to touch it. Even in the faint light, the workmanship was unmistakable. Eighteenth century. Maybe even earlier. “Do you still have a cutlass, too?”

  A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Aye, but it’s too big to hide, and people today frown on me wearing it hanging off my belt in public.” Keegan sobered as he slid a clip of ammo into the gun. “Let’s get on board.”

  Chapter Five

  With Char safely on the deck, Keegan withdrew his cell and called Colton. If they were followed, he didn’t want to risk shouting, and a phone call would be faster than searching the ship for the quartermaster.

  Keegan scanned the shoreline for any sign of movement. The moment danger set its eye on Char, an unwelcome specter materialized inside him. A protective, possessive, dangerous part of himself he’d buried lifetimes ago suddenly stepped forward into the center of his consciousness.

  Colton finally answered the damn phone. “Keegan?”

  “Are you on board the Sea Dog?”

  “No, I’m at Skye’s shop. Is everything okay?”

  Keegan shook his head, eyeing Char beside him. “I think our historian has found a connection between the Grail and the Serpent Society. Agent Bale is on his way to the ship now. Can you meet us here?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

  Keegan lowered his voice. “Come armed.”

  There was a pause, then Colton replied. “The armory below deck is stocked if you need it. Be careful.”

  “Aye.” Keegan ended the call and stuffed his phone in his pocket.

  The moonlight shone in her dark eyes as she looked up at him. “I’ve never been on board this ship before. It’s much bigger than I realized.”

  Keegan raised a brow. “The pirate historian has never been on the deck of the Sea Dog?”

  “No. It’s a replica for tourists.” She shook her head. “Or at least that’s what I thought.”

  “She was Colton’s labor of love.” He lowered the Glock to his side and reached for her with his other hand. “For years we laughed at him for his attachment to a sunken ship, but after we sailed this replica out into open water, we were the first to thank him. A pirate can’t stay away from the sea for too long.”

  A car parked on River Street, and he tensed, reaching for his gun as he whispered, “Take cover.”

  Without hesitation, Char crouched behind an oak barrel. He caught himself admiring her instincts. Not that he was expecting her to cry or panic, but he hadn’t anticipated a bookworm historian would keep a cool head when danger came calling.

  He pulled back the slide on the Glock, jogging to the railing. A man got out of the car, his pace brisk, without breaking into a run. Keegan stayed low, waiting for the interloper to walk through the yellow light from the streetlamp.

  Agent Bale.

  Keegan straightened, lowering his weapon. The agent came up the ramp and on board like a man on a mission. He glanced around the deck and frowned. “Where’s Dr. Sinclair?”

  “She’s safe.” Keegan holstered his gun. “What makes you think she’s in danger?”

  Agent Bale’s gaze landed on Keegan. “My informant witnessed two men dressed in monk robes meeting at the fountain in Forsyth Park today. They were wearing serpent rings and discussing the Grail.”

  Keegan frowned. “What does this have to do with our historian?”

  “My informant is dead. They attacked him.”

  Keegan’s fingers twitched on the handle of his gun. “You know it was them?”

  “They carved an S into his abdomen.” A muscle jumped in Bale’s cheek, and pain lined his eyes. This was more than an informant. Bale cared about this guy.

  Keegan went to the barrel and offered Char a hand, his voice hushed. “Did you hear?”

  She nodded, accompanying him back to face the government agent. Keegan didn’t release her hand when they stopped. He did enjoy touching her, but this had nothing to do with lust. Part of him wished he could blame it on that. Lust was simple and satiable.

  Deeper emotions weren’t so easily controlled.

  Shoving the thoughts aside, he focused on Agent Bale. “You think Dr. Sinclair’s digging for stories about the missing Grail could have brought her to their attention?”

  Before the agent could respond, Colton and Skye crossed the ramp onto the ship. The quartermaster and his lady stopped, Colton’s gaze locking on Char. “This is our historian?”

  Char dropped Keegan’s hand and offered it to the quartermaster. “You must be Colton Hayes.”

  “Aye. Quartermaster of the Sea Dog.” He shook Char’s hand, glancing at his woman. “And this is my fiancée, Skye. She’s been helping us in the search for the Grail.”

  Char took Skye’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Skye chuckled and stepped back, nudging her pirate. “It’s about time you got a little more estrogen on this ship.”

  Colton almost smiled as he turned to Char. “I assumed you would be a man.”

  Char shrugged. “You’re not the first to expect Dr. Sinclair to have more facial hair.”

  “Agent Bale lost a man tonight.” Keegan interrupted. “Seems the Serpent Society isn’t as dead as we thought.”

  The agent took over, sharing what little information he had. Skye’s vision of the men with serpent rings at the fountain in Forsyth Park had been accurate. Keegan caught Colton’s eye, tipping his head toward the captain’s quarters.

  Colton gave an imperceptible nod.

  Keegan waited for a pause in the conversation to interject. “The quartermaster and I need to check the tie down at the stern.” His eyes met Char’s.
“Stay right here.”

  “Aye,” she answered as if she were crew.

  And somewhere in the empty chasm of his chest, his heart thumped.

  …

  Keegan and Colton retreated to the shadows, their footsteps echoing as they headed for the stern of the big wooden ship. Charlotte faced Agent Bale again, unsure what to say. Keegan had mentioned the crew didn’t really trust him.

  And truthfully, Charlotte wasn’t sure who to trust at this point. She barely knew the crew, and as Keegan had reminded her earlier in the evening, he was a pirate.

  Rather than engaging the agent who brought her into this situation, she turned to Skye. “How long have you known Colton?”

  Charlotte shut her mouth before she could ask, Do you know he’s a couple centuries older than you?

  If Skye was going to marry Colton, surely she knew.

  But what if she didn’t? Charlotte had no idea how these men traversed through time without aging. Did they fake their deaths, leaving spouses to grieve them? Could they father children? Were they forced to abandon whole families?

  Skye smiled. “Not as long as I probably should, since I’m about to marry him, but what can I say? A pirate stole my heart.”

  Charlotte glanced at Agent Bale, who seemed to be focused on where the men had retreated. She turned to Skye again. “So you know he’s…”

  Skye nudged the agent, snapping his attention back to the conversation at hand. “Did you explain things when you brought Dr. Sinclair into this…situation?”

  Agent Bale nodded. “She’s aware of the Grail and the effect it had on the crew.”

  Skye faced Charlotte again. “Then, yes, I know Colton was the quartermaster of the original Sea Dog that went down in 1795.”

  Charlotte’s eyes widened, that addictive hunger for knowledge gnawing at her insides. “And you realize that while you’ll age, he won’t?”

  Skye’s smile faded, her eyes darting to the agent. “You didn’t tell her why the crew needs the Grail back?”

  Agent Bale cleared his throat. “All of this conversation is classified. Understood? No one outside of this ship can hear it.”