Treacherous Love
Pirate's Bluff, Volume 3
Stacey Trombley
Published by Stacey Trombley, 2019.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
TREACHEROUS LOVE
First edition. September 5, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 Stacey Trombley.
Written by Stacey Trombley.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Whitley
Bluff
Whitley
Bluff
Whitley
Bluff
Whitley
Bluff
Whitley
Bluff
Whitley
Bluff
Whitley
Bluff
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Author Note
Sam
Lilah
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Whitley
A violent wind crashes against our tiny ship. Waves pummel the rickety wood, sending a ricochet through the entire vessel.
I grip the railing tightly as we tip one way, then the other. My hair is plastered to my face from salt water. The water feels good, in a way, but I don’t have much time to dwell on these small pleasures when panic is coursing through my veins.
I’ve never been in a sea storm before.
Something about it feels...unnatural.
The sky is dark and heavy. The waves large and irritated.
It’s like the sea is angry with me.
The salty air tosses my hair wildly as I carefully cross the main deck towards the bow, watching the waters as I go. Black waves crest and crash as our tiny vessel battles to carve through them. My stomach churns at every shift and shadow, and I’m unsure if it’s the very creatures I’m fleeing from or just another normal, nonthreatening, part of the wondrous sea.
I stop at very front of the ship and press my eyes closed as more water thrashes against my face. Another massive wave hits the ship, and wood shudders beneath me. My teeth are chattering as I adjust my thick pants. I’m not yet used to this kind of attire, but I am thankful I don’t have to wrestle a full skirt in this wind.
Something shifts in the water and I freeze.
“Come!”
I jump at the voice and turn to see Rosemera, water streaming over her face as she holds to the main mast. She doesn’t look me in the eye as she shouts over the storm. “You should come inside!”
I don’t respond, because the truth is I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m terrified the moment I let down my guard will be the moment the Siren Queen comes for me—again.
Between jostles, Rosemera pushes forwards towards the railing beside me.
“Come inside,” she says again.
I heave a sigh and concede, if only for Rosemera’s safety. I nod and she leads me below deck.
“Is this normal?” I ask, as soon as the door slams behind us. It’s dark below deck. The wooden planks that surround us creak in the violent winds. The water crashing against our small ship is only barely muted here.
“Yes. Without Bluff... well the weather isn’t always on our side. Storms happen.”
“And this ship can handle it?”
She nods. “So long as it doesn’t get worse.”
I swallow. “I should stay out there,” I say, looking over her shoulder and listening to groans of the ship, the roar of the waves.
Her muscles tense as I step towards her.
“It’s not going to help,” she says.
She’s anxious about much more than the storm. It’s been like this since we boarded.
She doesn’t like to be around me now that she knows what I am. I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t either, if I had a choice. But I don’t.
What happened to me wasn’t my choice.
“What?” I ask, voice soft in an attempt at sounding unthreatening, but she still winces. Perhaps soft and sweet is not unthreatening coming from a siren. Would harsher, louder, faster be better? Or perhaps there is no way I could speak that would ease her nerves.
“Watching for them. It won’t calm you, it’ll only work you up.”
“I suppose,” I say. I bite my lip. “What does it matter to you?” I ask as easily as I can manage. It’s an honest question. “You don’t like me.”
Her mouth parts, shoulders easing. “I don’t not like you.”
“Are you certain?”
Now her mouth twists in annoyance. At me or herself, I’m unsure. “I have had... bad experiences with sirens. It’s nothing personal. I liked you before.”
“But now you don’t.”
She takes a long breath, her deep brown eyes widening. “You just make me nervous. I don’t know that I can trust you. Bluff does... I think. Or at least he trusted me to take care of you. So I’m going to. I care about him. And so, I am bound to care about you, being as linked as you are.”
“In what way?” I ask suddenly.
She stands up straighter. “In what way what?”
“In what way do you care about him?” I tilt my head, taking in every change in her body language, subtle shifts in her heart rate and breathing, even sweat developing on her palms—things only a siren could detect this easily.
I quickly realize I don’t need such subtle clues. Her expression tells me everything I need to know. “He’s like a brother,” she stammers.
I tap my hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry,” I say, and then turn and head deeper into the ship. It doesn’t take long to reach the small crew’s quarters, the same room as the galley and storage. This ship is a quarter of the size of The Freedom.
Rosemera follows quickly. Whatever is happening between Bluff and me is at least
partially supernatural. I wonder if it was always meant to be or if these destinies simply derailed whatever lives we would have lived otherwise. I must admit—mystical creatures hunting me aside—my life is likely better this way. I wasn’t happy as a “high society princess” as Bluff called me. I was trapped. Now I’m running, but at least free for the time being.
Rosemera grabs my arm just before I enter the galley. “No! It’s not like that. Never was.”
I raise my eyebrows.
She looks over my shoulder, where a few of our small crew are working to move barrels and crates away from the water trickling into the deck from above. I watch as her eyes linger on the young man struggling to lift one crate onto another. Robert was raised in high society like me—unlike Bluff and Rosemera who were raised to be sailors and scallywags.
Robert trips and grunts as he finally manages to tip the crate up and over. He’s not quite strong enough for this. Hard labor was not part of his upbringing.
I don’t press her, in part because I understand that she wouldn’t want Robert to know if she has feelings for someone else. Someone who will never be hers.
I ignore the tingle in my fingers at that thought. Rosemera isn’t a threat, but just the thought of someone else having Bluff—a hiss bubbles in my throat.
Strange, this instinctual possessiveness over a boy I’m not sure even thinks of me as a human anymore. I swallow and push the feelings down. Bluff isn’t here for me to fight over, and he isn’t here to push away these doubts.
You’re a monster.
My stomach sinks. Bluff loved me once, and he might love me still. But much the same as Rosemera, he doesn’t like sirens. He hates that that’s what I am now.
But he needs me. If I become lost to the sirens, so is he. They’ll use me and my strange ability to control him, to enslave him. I’ll be slave to her. He’ll be a slave to me.
If I am human enough to control my own will, I can save him from this fate.
That’s my value to him.
If there is one thing about my past life that I remember, it’s this harsh lesson—I am only important to people so long as I hold value. No matter how much you want to love someone, they’ll only love you back if you can give them something in return.
Sex. Money. Prestige. Leverage. Power.
Freedom.
It’s different for everyone, but there is always something.
There is always a way to lose them.
Bluff
The carriage rattles and bumps uncomfortably, but I work to ignore the strange metals sounds, grinding and clinking. So much different than a ship. So much more unnatural. But then again, just being miles from the sea feels unnatural to me.
I wonder if this is the reason no seems to be following me any longer. The mob is aware of at least some of my powers. Perhaps they also know that being half sirens means I feel uncomfortable away from the salt of the ocean so they’ve focused their search to the coast line.
That would be good news indeed.
They had the station surrounded before my departure, sifting into the crowds, searching. But I’ve played too many parts not to blend in seamlessly. They were looking for someone alone. They know about my ability to change my appearance, but finding people to play along and pretend to know you is not an easy endeavor. I always have the option of killing someone to take their place, but that is not something I am morally capable of, and hiding a body would complicate things greatly.
Instead, I managed to find a young woman and boy traveling alone. I then took the form of an old man—thin and frail enough to be unthreatening—and pretended to be shocked when I heard they were travelling to the same place as I—anywhere south would do, for now. The woman was relieved to have an escort, at least for a portion of her journey.
Once I made it through my first day of travel, seemingly undetected, I took my next carriage ride alone. The days are long and boring and uncomfortable, but every moment gets me closer to her.
I consider all the people I’ve passed just in the last two days. I imagine their lives and the freedom they have. To travel and dream.
Of course, I know it’s all a farce. Everyone has their vices. Everyone has their prisons. Some are just more obvious than others.
I am trapped by my connection with the sea. With my heritage as a siren.
I am trapped by desperation for a girl I shouldn’t love.
The only true freedom I’ve felt were in the moments I spent with her. When everything else just melts away and there is only her.
We should have never left that island. We could have lived there, barely surviving for the rest of our lives, and we’d have been happier than we are now—apart and running for our lives.
I’m not even sure she remembers the island anymore. Every time she uses her power, she loses more of her memories. She loses more of her soul—the thing that makes her her. And she used a lot of magic to escape the sirens and save me only days ago. Has she forgotten her own name by now? Has she forgotten me?
Is Rosemera safe on a ship with her? Will they make it to our rendezvous port? Or will Whitley be a full siren the next time I see her, evil and enjoying it as she tears my life apart?
My stomach twists. These are thoughts I’ve been actively avoiding. In only another four days, I should be with her. I tap my fingers on my knee. I hope.
I worry about them both. I need them both to be safe.
But when I close my eyes, it’s Whitley I imagine. Her blue eyes looking down at me so softly. Innocent. Beautiful. Honest. Brave. Caring.
She’s still there. I haven’t lost her yet.
But we have a long way to go before we’re free.
Whitley
The storm calms just as the sun sets. After several uncomfortable hours below deck, the ship eases into gentle rock, and I finally venture back out onto the main deck.
Our crew is small, but then again so is our ship. Tim is from the original crew of this little fishing vessel. We found him below deck, unconscious, several hours after we commandeered it. Apparently, he was the drunk of the crew and that makes for an easy transition to piracy. He opted to join us rather than be tossed into the open ocean, where he’d have had no chance at all of swimming to safety.
Join us or die.
He takes the overnight duty, along with Knick’s second, Tops.
Only moments after I finally free myself from the stink of the galley, Rosemera nods for me to join her in the captain’s quarters.
I sigh, but I suppose it’s for the best. With darkness creeping on the edges of the horizon, I can only spend so much time in the open air before it’s time to sleep, anyway.
I’m surprised, though, when I enter the dingy little room and find not only Rosemera but also Robert and Knick waiting for me.
This ship is smaller than The Freedom. The captain’s quarters are only half the size of Captain Taj’s. The walls are smudged and dark, bare of any decoration. The bed is small and, well, hardly a bed at all. It’s a wooden platform with hay and sheets tossed over it haphazardly. Knick reclines on the makeshift bed as if he were a king, arms behind his head, legs crossed.
“So what’s the plan, pirate folk?” he asks. “This is new territory for me.”
Rosemera pulls out a few other chairs and a glass bottle of brown liquid. “Right now? We drink.” I raise my eyebrows. She brought us all in here to drink?
Knick grins and sits back up. “Yesss!” he hisses in excitement. “Or should I say ‘AYE!’”
Rosemera rolls her eyes.
“Arrgggghh!” He winks.
“You know she’s the only real pirate here?” I say, taking a seat in the wooden chair Rosemera set out for me.
Knick raises one brow, a glint in his eye as he watches her. “Oh, yes, I know.”
My eyes flick to Rosemera. I expect a blush, but she gives no reaction at all. Robert’s jaw, however, clenches, red seeping over his cheeks.
“We are meeting Bluff a few states south. Travel tim
e is three days from here, at least.”
“It only took us two to get to New York from that same town, and we’ve already been sailing a day.”
Rose nods. “Two and a half, and that was on a faster ship with Bluff on board. We won’t get such luck with our winds without him. This wind is no one’s friend.”
I purse my lips. Bluff gets friendly winds because of his heritage as a siren. He is drawn to the sea in supernatural ways—like the wind, pulling him farther out to sea. Shouldn’t the same be said for me now, as a siren?
Or perhaps the days of friendly winds are gone, no matter who I might be.
“In the meantime, every night we’ll meet here for a drink and a chat.”
I purse my lips.
“That sounds ominous,” Knick says casually. “What exactly are these nightly chats to be about, lassy?”
Rosemera stands, holding a blade I hadn’t even noticed her carrying in Knick’s arrogant face. “Don’t call me lassy.”
I chuckle.
He smirks. “What shall I call you then? My lady?” He gives a not-so-subtle glance towards Robert, who shifts uncomfortably.
“Captain. Call me Captain.”
Knicks smile spreads wider. “Very well,” he says, his eyes glistening in a way that makes it very clear he’s pleased with that answer.
Knick has been a mobster and river pirate in the roughest parts of New York City since he was a child. He was a childhood friend of mine, but we’ve lived entirely different lives. When he helped us escape our enemies in New York, he became part of our makeshift crew. But now I’m wondering if there’s something else I’ve missed.
He looks at Rosemera like she’s the most impressive thing he’s ever seen. Is there something there I hadn’t noticed before?
Robert looks uncomfortable, but he works to keep his head up and shoulders back. Like if he must fight, he’ll be ready.
“And these talks will mostly be for Whitley.”
“Me?”
“We’re going to talk about the past.”
I look down at my feet. So strange to see harsh leather boots instead of heeled shoes. Pants instead of skirts. “What about the past?”
“Nothing in particular. This new magic, I’m told, pulls your memories farther from your grasp. We’ll do what we can to counteract it.”
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