I swallow.
“None of us were there, so let’s see how much you remember, Whitley. Do you remember the pirates coming?”
I nod. “I remember the ball. And then the screams. Then...” I close my eyes. There are breaks in the memory. The pantry. Jumping from the window. Running down the street barefoot. The pirate ship. I tell them of the scattered images, some without context.
“What do you remember of the ship? Because I was there for this part,” Rosemera says.
“I remember... a pirate with a bull-like nose ring.”
She smiles. “Daddy.”
I raise my eyebrows. Right, the captain was her father. “Then”—I pause—“the sirens.”
“Already?” Knick says. “Didn’t you come back to New York before that?”
Rosemera shakes her head. “This was... more of an introduction. They came by to say hello and show their fangs.” She rolls her eyes, her disgust obvious.
“But if I do recall, you spent the night with Bluff in the captain’s quarter’s that first night. Do you remember that at all?”
My cheeks grow red, and the boys shoot quick glances at me. “Oh yes, do tell.” Knick says, sipping more of his drink.
“We weren’t... nothing happened.” I think back and try to remember specifics. “He didn’t even like me. He was annoyed with me but had to keep up the ruse that we were together.”
“Why?” Robert asks.
“Because of the prophecy.” Rosemera says. “Stede was after Whitley, and he didn’t want to crew to know it. So they had to tell another tale as to why he had her aboard. I didn’t know the whole story at the time, wasn’t sure if there was something between you or not.”
“You couldn’t tell he didn’t like me?”
She takes in a breath. “I could tell he didn’t want to like you. He was holding a lot back. Not that that’s out of the ordinary for him. He was drawn to you. Unsurprisingly.” She winks.
My stomach squirms. Right. That.
“Do you remember the first time he kissed you?” Knick asks, and Rosemera shoots him a glare. “Surely he kissed you? You didn’t fall totally in love without at least—”
The room is quiet while I think. “We spent the second night in the crow’s nest. It was nice. But he didn’t kiss me. Wouldn’t. He held me at arm’s length. But the next morning, just after docking in New York City, he came to me in Jeb’s body.”
“Whoa. What do you mean?”
“He can shapeshift into anyone he wants. He chose Jeb’s body, I don’t know why... to trick me? Test me? I didn’t really care why the moment his lips touched mine, because I just knew he was kissing me.” The feeling sweeps over me. Bitter and sweet. Stomach flipping both pleasantly and unpleasantly. I assume it’s just good to feel at all. “But he didn’t know I knew it was him. I could feel him. I didn’t have even the slightest doubt it wasn’t Jeb. He wouldn’t have kissed me like that, anyway.”
“That’s why he was so upset that day. I’d assumed it was just because you were gone, but he was mad at you.”
I nod and my stomach sinks.
“Then you came to New York. Do you remember the ball?” Rosemera asks.
I shake my head. I don’t. Well, that must have been when Mr. Robinson confronted me. An image of my mother’s ring flashes in my mind.
“I do,” Robert says with a side eye to Rosemera, who blushes.
“This is her story,” Knick says, jerking a thumb towards me. “Not yours.”
Robert rolls his eyes.
“You came to see me soon after,” Knick prompts.
Rosemera nods. “And you betrayed them,” she says, with a sharp tilt of her head and purse of her lips.
“Yeah, and sold them to your father,” he bounces back.
She rolls her eyes. “Whitley?” she says, turning her attention back to me. “Do you remember any of this?”
“Only bits and pieces,” I whisper. As they speak it, I do remember some scattered images that fit the story. So I hold onto their words.
Knick goes on to tell me about our negotiations. That Bluff was pretty stubborn about his feelings for me, which were obvious even to Knick’s pint-sized crew. He tells me about the emerald ring, which makes my stomach twist.
“That was my mother’s ring,” I say.
He shrugs. “You said you didn’t want it.”
I bite my lip. I didn’t, at that moment. But I wish I had it now.
“That’s when you sold us back to the Freedom so they could trade us for Rosemera’s life,” I say, one part reiterating their version of the story, one-part piecing together the broken shards into something that almost makes sense.
Rosemera rolls her eyes. “Stede never even touched me.”
“I made sure of that,” Robert winks. Rosemera smiles back at him.
“What about the ring?” Knick asks. “There was a story behind that I never got entirely.”
“It was my mother’s but it went missing when we fled from the mob. Mr. Robinson gave it back to me at that ball. He told me he’d made a deal with my father for my hand.”
“I thought you were to marry Jeb?”
I shake my head. “That was the plan, but it was never official. Apparently, Mr. Robinson helped us flee the city when the mob came with intentions on finding us a few weeks later, where... the transaction would take place. Though I wonder if that was all even true.”
“What do you mean?”
“The mob,” I say, looking down at my dirty fingernails. “We fled because of the mob, But Mr. Robinson is the secret head of the mob, so why would he chase us then help us flee?”
“He orchestrated the attack to push you out? Push you away from Jeb?”
I nod, gritting my teeth. “I’d be willing to bet my father knew the whole time.”
“You father is awful.”
I swallow. “Yeah,” I whisper.
“Very well, back to The Freedom. I want to know more about this anyway. What happened when you got back with my father’s crew?”
“They kept us tied up on the main mast so they could keep a close eye on Bluff.”
My mind darkens as I think through this memory. I remember the soft ache I’d felt, being near him. The confusion because he’d been keeping things from me. He didn’t trust me.
A loud noise grabs my attention, and my eyes fly open.
“What was that?” Rosemera asks.
Knick stands, a blade suddenly in his hand.
The ship rumbles below my feet, and now I can feel it. The magic. The whisper of a song.
“They’re here,” I whisper.
Bluff
My eyes fly open to a dark room as I hear footsteps approaching my door. I’m at another random inn, somewhere near Philadelphia, still playing the same part—family man travelling south to help my mother-in-law. Traveling so slowly it pains me.
But perhaps even that wasn’t enough, given the number of men now standing outside my door. I’d suppose at least ten. I struggle to find any other reason that many men would stomp into an inn in the middle of the night other than to apprehend a fugitive.
I grab my dagger and pretend to be asleep. Actually, how about another shock? I transform into a child. A little girl, this time with fair skin, freckles, and curly pig tails. It doesn’t matter how much these men have been told about me and my power—no one wouldn’t hesitate when told to apprehend a grown man and then finding a little girl in his stead.
This might be the end of my journey, but it’ll be a fun one.
The door shudders before I hear the explosion of a large man’s foot slamming into wooden frame. Wooden splinters cascade across the room and the doors is shoved open.
I curl up under the covers, shivering in terror as the blanket is ripped off of me.
“What the hell?”
I can’t help but grin, and I act before one of these mobsters is wise enough to grab me regardless of their shock. I leap from the bed, slice my blade into the closest man’s thro
at, twisting through the legs of the next. Gurgles of death, splattered blood, and shouts of shock fill the room.
I transform into my go-to large form and shove the pile of men back through the hall. They stumble into one another, bumping and falling and shouting. It’s chaos, and I love it.
Hands grip me from behind, and I whip around, throwing a punch square in his face. He sends one to my gut. His eyes are green, his face clean shaven, making him stand out from the rest of the motley crew.
“Greetings, Bluff,” he snarls.
As much as I’d love a formal introduction, time is not on my side. So instead, I respond to his greeting with a swift kick between his legs. “Nice to meet you,” I say as I turn and flee into the mess of limbs in the hall. More hands grab me, but this time, I allow it.
Time for my signature move.
Funny that folk always assume the more people they send to apprehend me the better. When really, I thrive on the chaos of a large group. So much easier to blend in.
I throw my weight into the crowd as I’m pulled, and soon, I’m as entangled in the mess of bumbling fools that they are. That’s when I shift.
If there were only three or four men after me, they’d be able to tell when I pretend to be one of them. When there are ten or more? Just a generic mob-ish looking fellow and they can’t tell me from the rest. All of a sudden, Bluff has mysteriously disappeared.
I violently grab another attacker. “Come here, demon boy!” I shout at him.
“Ow! I’m not him, you fool!” he shouts.
A hand grips my upper arm tightly and pulls. “Well I’m not either!” I yell in a gruff voice.
“Where is he?” another asks.
We attempt to pull our bodies from pile, and I make sure to move my head around frequently so no one gets a good look. “Where’d he go?”
“Someone just ran that way!” I say and step on some fellow’s leg as I move to follow the imaginary target.
“Get him!”
The pile of mobsters manages to get to their feet and rush down the hall. I’m not even head of the pack as we make chase. I almost laugh. Now I’ll just need to find a way to slip away before all things settle.
We pile out into the barely lit street and the men look around in confusion. Darkness is certainly on my side, so I move to slip into a nearby alley.
“Nice try.” The clean-shaven man’s hand grips my neck and shoves me against the stone wall.
Whitley
I can’t stop pacing and wringing my hands.
“You need to sleep,” Rosemera says tiredly. Again, standing ten feet away, arms crossed as she watches. Haven’t I proven I’m not a threat? If I were going to snap and eat her, drown her, or whatever she fears—I would have done it by now.
“I can’t sleep.”
“This isn’t going to help anything.”
“Sure, it is!” I say, stopping to face her. “If they’re here—and I know they are—then any moment I let my guard down is a risk.”
Our panic last night was apparently unnecessary. We all heard something, but when we came above deck, we saw nothing out of the ordinary. The others explained it away as the ship scraping a sudden reef—a narrow miss. Natural. Normal. Nothing to worry about now.
Except they didn’t hear the singing. They didn’t feel the magic.
I know the sirens were here. And if they were here last night, they’re here now.
“If they found us, why wouldn’t they have attacked?” she asks.
“I don’t know. They’re waiting. They want to follow us, see where we’re going? They’re waiting for me to fall asleep so I won’t be able to fight back? I’m sure I could think of other rational reasons.”
Sirens have tried to drown me more than once, nearly succeeding in destroying everything that I am. I won’t let them do it again. They can’t have me.
They’ll take away my memories. My soul. My free will.
I’m already half monster because of their magic. It’s their fault.
Suddenly a cool and gentle hand is on my clenched fist, and I freeze. Rosemera came close enough to touch me. Close enough to look me in the eye. “I’ll protect you. You need to calm down.”
My breath shutters as it releases. “You’re afraid of them for a reason,” I say. The implication clear. What can she do against them? I have power they want. Power they fear. I can fight if I need to. But I’m the only one.
“Staying on your guard is one thing. Freaking yourself out so badly you’re out of control is another.”
I swallow. Am I out of control? I allow my shoulders to relax, and my eyes flick to a literal dark cloud above me—inside the captain’s quarters. I breathe deep, and it dissipates. Had I done that? My panic pulled a black cloud inside the ship?
I still don’t understand this power of mine. It’s supposed to be connected with Bluff’s. I can only use the full power with him, but I’m far from him now, and that doesn’t seem to limit me very much at all.
Or perhaps controlling a storm isn’t the fullness implied. Perhaps there is more. If this is only half my power—I shake my head.
There’s another shudder under the ship, and my hands begin to shake. “What was that?” My mind spins. Panic rises in my throat, making it hard to breath.
“Another reef?” she says, but she’s clearly unsure. She rushes to the window, her long brown hair swaying in the wind as she leans over to examine the waves. She stays there too long, eyes frozen on the waves below. Shoulders tense.
I already know what she sees. I don’t need to look for myself. Or ask.
She sees the green glow. The shadows beneath the surf.
My teeth begin to chatter. I don’t want to do this. I’m not ready.
Slowly, her terror-filled eyes turn to me. I close mine.
Nothing happens. We stand there, still, waiting. For what feels like an hour. The song doesn’t come, though I can hear the dim hum under the surface.
“They’re waiting,” I tell her, finally. “They’re here, but waiting.”
She nods, the tension not leaving her expression. “We need a new plan.”
Bluff
Mr. smooth-face has me cornered, his rank breath smothering me. His form is larger than my current one, and even though I could shift, I’m not so sure it’s going to help me at the moment. He has the backup of a dozen men. Men I’d be hard pressed to fool again.
Whenever I don’t have an immediate recourse, I go with plan B—pretend to panic. My face crumples, and I cower before the cruel man strangling me. As soon as men feel in control, they relax. They leave an opening.
I need an opening right now.
“Tell me your name?” he says, leaning in closer.
I blubber out some indistinguishable noises, tears leaking onto my cheeks—have I ever mentioned I’m a good actor?
“What?” he asks harshly.
I blubber again, not even sure of what I’m saying.
He smacks me. “Pull yourself together, fool, and talk to me.”
I shake my head. “What did I do? What did I do?” I ask, still crying.
He pulls out a blade and my crying stops. “This is either an act,” he tells me quietly. “Or you’re a complete moron. Either way, I’d enjoy carving you up a bit, so let’s play a game, shall we?”
I swallow and calm the sobs, but allow a whimper or two to escape. “Tell me what your name is, or I’ll carve your eye from the socket.”
Clever game, I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I, I, Emer-son,” I stammer.
“Emerson?”
I nod.
He turns to the confused mob behind him. “Anyone know an Emerson?” he asks. They all shake their heads.
Cover blown for good, then. That’s fine. On to plan C. Or is it D? Just before his gaze turns back to me, I decide to go as low as I can and hit him where I know it will hurt most.
A pirate, he’ll learn quickly, knows no honor. Doesn’t care to, if I’m honest.
Not for the f
irst time today, I shove my knee into his groin with every ounce of force I can manage.
We’re going to be best friends, I’m sure of it.
I don’t have time to enjoy his blood red face, full of inconceivable agony, before I pull away from his loosened grip and sprint into the dark night.
I send him a silent apology, but considering my choice was between my life or his pain, my regret is minimal.
I’m ahead of the mob chasing after me by several paces, so I throw myself into an alley, shifting into the smallest form I can think of, and roll quickly into a convenient crevice under the building’s foundation. Their feet pound past me and into the darkness where they will find no one.
Sorry about your luck, boys.
Whitley
Rosemera sits down beside me in the middle of the main deck. Knick and Bingo approach slowly.
“What’s going on?” Bingo asks, sitting down, his knee brushing mine as he does. I smile at him. He’s so small, his clothing still soiled from his time in sewage-filled New York Canals, but his smile is warm and his skin clearer—saltwater splashes and rain are likely the closest thing to a bath he’s had in a long while. I can now see clearly that he’s darker than the rest of our group. I wonder what kind of difficulties he’s faced, due simply to the color of his skin.
Bingo is still the only human being to treat me with true warmth since I was turned, and I couldn’t appreciate it more. I wish more than nothing than to make his life better than it was before he met me. I hope to God I don’t do the opposite.
“We think... well, we think we need a new plan,” I tell him.
“We’re not at the bottom of the ocean yet, so I can’t imagine it’s all that bad,” Knick says.
“They’re following us,” I tell him. “They haven’t attacked—yet.”
“So what do we do?” Robert asks. I spin to find him standing just feet away.
“We can’t go to the rendezvous point or we’ll be leading them right to Bluff,” Rosemera says.
“But if we don’t go there, how will Bluff ever find us?” I ask.
Treacherous Love Page 3
