Shipwreck Souls

by Kendra Moreno

  "Yes. Sometimes we have passengers, ones who pay for the privilege . . ."

  "Hmm," I hummed noncommittally.

  "It's not pleasant down there, Gia," Kesia warned.

  Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, my eyes swept over her face. She was worried about how I'd handle what I'd see when I visited the captives. It was sweet but unnecessary. I licked my lips and made my way up the steps, and she sighed and followed closely behind me. When we emerged on deck, the sun had sunk almost completely into the sea. My bare feet padded across the weathered planks of wood. Johns leaned against the mast, cutting a piece of fruit with a knife. He waved in my direction, gesturing me over. I sighed and walked over to him, leaving Kesia behind.

  "Yes?" I quipped.

  "Captain's been waiting for you."

  "I was getting ready," I replied, raking my fingers through my freshly combed hair. "Women have things to tend to before they go to dinner, don't you know, Johns?"

  Johns narrowed his eyes on me, slicing another piece of the fruit before popping it into his mouth with the knife. He leaned away from the mast and wiped his blade on his shirt before he leaned close.

  "Haven't been able to stop thinking about you," he murmured.

  "Oh?" I smiled and turned away, making a beeline for the captain's quarters.

  "Don't think I'll be able to, 'til I know exactly what's under that dress."

  The promise in his voice sent shivers down my spine. I wasn't afraid of Johns; I couldn't wait for him to try to attack me. I couldn't wait for an excuse to kill the idiot. My steps slowed as I came to the captain’s simple wooden door. My fingers traced the carvings in the wood—names carved with a knife and then scratched out.

  Rogers

  Loxley

  Donovan

  I paused on the familiar name, my fingers sweeping over the deep etchings. These were the names of all the captains of this ship. I needed to remember to ask Kesia about them later. This ship clearly attracted the worst sorts—she belonged at the bottom of the sea. I pushed on the door and it slid open with a creak.

  "Ah, Miss Gia, come," a voice called from inside.

  I smoothed my hair away from my face and stepped into the dimly lit cabin. Donovan sat on a sheet-covered crate at a small table. Another crate sat on the opposite side—clearly, they were serving as chairs. The room was small and cramped, but bigger than I'd seen on this ship so far. A large bed took up the majority of the cabin, leaving room only for a mirror and the dining table.

  Donovan's hat rested on the bed, his salt and pepper hair on full display in the candlelight. I sighed as I made my way to the table, surveying the things mounted on the walls. A spear decorated in colorful twine and several long, exotic looking feathers was pinned above the headboard. Various masks lined the walls, and their empty eyes stared at me as I took a seat on the crate-chair across from the captain.

  "Good evening," he murmured.

  "Good evening," I replied in kind.

  I glanced down at the plate of food. Fish—of course—and some kind of vegetable. I wrinkled my nose as I reached for my fork. The fish would be fine, but the vegetables would be left to the humans. I wasn't particularly interested in their leafy diet.

  "How are you feeling? You've been through quite the ordeal." Captain Donovan crammed a large bite of fish into his maw.

  "Tired, but otherwise alright, captain. I think I may have been in shock this morning." I laid my hand over my breast and wondered if he knew exactly how easy he was to manipulate.

  "Well, that's good news then!" He raised a mug of deep, burgundy liquid to his lips.

  "Is that wine?" I asked, curious.

  I'd heard people speak of it, I'd even seen the bottles in the wreckage surrounding the sunken city, but I'd never experienced it. Alcohol apparently dulled the human mind and helped them lose their inhibitions.

  Donovan nodded, pushing my cup toward me. I lifted it and sniffed the red liquid. It smelled heavy somehow. He tore a piece of bread from a loaf and chewed it slowly as he watched me.

  "It's not poisoned," he laughed, loose bread crumbs flying from his lips as he did.

  "I didn't think it was." I rolled my eyes and pressed the cup to my lips. I sipped the strange liquid and set the cup down as it rolled over my tongue. It was sweet! I smiled at the captain and popped a bite of fish into my mouth.

  "Are you enjoying your stay aboard The Lady Rose, Miss Gia?" His voice dripped with sarcasm as he set his hand on the table.

  I raised my eyebrow and placed my fork down on my plate. “I’m very grateful for you taking me in,” I murmured.

  I watched his eyes drift down my body. I didn't blame him, not really. My form was designed to entice men, to lure them to their deaths. My lips twitched into a smile as I waited for his eyes to return to mine.

  "It's my pleasure, I assure ya." His voice had gone husky; his accent slipped through, thicker than when we’d previously spoken.

  I traced my finger around the rim of my cup and held his gaze. An ache had been growing between my thighs since I came through the whirlie, but I wouldn't give this man the pleasure. He'd driven that woman—Zuri—to kill herself. My heart gave a pang at the lost life, the lost beauty. I silently hoped that her soul found peace in the sea, and maybe the sea would take pity on her and I'd see her again someday.

  I abandoned my cup and leaned forward, coming face-to-face with the captain, and ran my finger up his throat to his chin. A wicked smile greeted me. I batted my lashes as magic swirled through my fingertips and into him.

  "Who was Zuri?"

  "Zuri?" His lids hooded with lust even as his fists clenched beside his plate. Donovan's knuckles glowed white from the strain in the candlelight. "A whore I enjoyed," he muttered, leaning forward.

  "A whore?" I pressed my finger to his lips, halting his obvious plan for a kiss. "I thought she was a captive."

  "All captives are whores, love." His lips moved against my finger with his words, and I shuddered at the meaning of them.

  "You take every woman aboard this ship?"

  "Your eyes are the color of sea glass, so beautiful," he groaned, gripping the tablecloth.

  I narrowed my eyes on him and moved around the makeshift table. I sank into his lap without care, bumping the flimsy thing. Dishes crashed to the floor, shattering as they met the wood. Donovan’s erection pressed against my core where I straddled him, and I held his gaze as my heart rate skyrocketed.

  "You beat your captives and rape the rest? Answer me, Captain Donovan," I purred, slipping my hand around his neck.

  He shuddered at my touch; the spell made everything feel seductive. "I have rights as the captain."

  I released him from the spell, tightening my grip around his throat. Images of Zuri flashed through my mind—the young woman floating, adrift in the sea, alone in death. I leaned forward, kissing the wretched man. It wasn't a gentle kiss. This was hatred set on fire. My teeth sank into his bottom lip, drawing blood even as his tongue caressed me.

  The captain jumped back, his hand flying to his injured mouth. "The fuck is this?" He wiped the blood from his mouth only for more to drip down his chin.

  I laid my hands on my thighs, kneeling on the table where he'd dropped me. My lips parted and I began to sing. No words accompanied the tune, only the sound of sorrow. The rage boiling in my chest was my own, but I pressed it down as Donovan's eyes clouded.

  Tears streamed down his face. He didn't move to wipe them away; he didn't sniffle or sob. His eyes were locked on mine, but I knew he couldn't see me clearly at the moment. He saw Zuri. The woman he had driven to kill herself.

  "Women are the strongest creatures in creation, captain," I hissed as I rose to my feet. "How bad you must have treated Zuri for her to prefer death to your affections." I stepped closer to the man, running my hand down his face as I resumed my song. Now it was a song of guilt.

  "I'm so sorry . . . just a savage . . ."

  I ignored the ramblings accompanying his tears as
my song spun from my lips. The song that lived inside me wanted justice for this human woman as much as I did—or maybe it just wanted to feed the sea. It didn't matter. We were both going to get our way. I drew back my hand and watched as Donovan turned toward the door. I wiped the blood from my lips and sucked it slowly off my fingers one at a time.

  He ripped the door open and strode through, not bothering to close it behind him. I followed him, pausing at the door. The captain walked across the deck to the starboard side. He leaned over the edge. My pulse pounded in my ears in anticipation.

  "Cap'n!" shouted a familiar voice.

  I whipped my head around in time to see Johns running toward the captain. He skidded to a stop a few feet away, his hands held out as if he were calming a shark. I cocked an eyebrow and continued cleaning my fingers. Humans tasted delicious . . .

  "I'm so sorry," Donovan mumbled as he flung himself over the side of the ship.

  A wicked smile curved my lips. The pink and orange light of the setting sun danced across the choppy waters around us. The sea had been calm when I first joined them, but the wind had been strong all day since, pushing the ship along at speed. Johns rushed to the side of the ship, searching the water for the man. I had a sneaking suspicion my shark friend wouldn't let him drown. I smoothed my hair away from my face before I ran onto the deck and into Johns’ arms.

  "What happened?" he shouted in my face.

  I blinked, thinking of an appropriate reaction. Fear was probably the most appropriate emotion given the circumstances. I sobbed into Johns’ chest, my shoulders heaving with every sniff.

  "What happened, woman?" he asked again, softer this time.

  "Nothing! We were eating, and he started talking about some girl, and then he got up and left. I came out just in time to see—" I strangled the last word on a sob. Tears flowed down my cheeks as easily as lies tumbled from my lips.

  Johns tugged a length of rope from a pile and began looping it around his shoulders. My eyes widened, and my heart thundered in my chest. Was he going to actually try to save the captain? I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me once again and hummed quietly by his ear, a soft song just for Johns.

  More crew had made their way on deck to see what the shouting was about. I sang quietly to Johns, a soft sound that brought his eyes to mine when I leaned away.

  "The captain is gone, you saw his head smash the hull before he went under," I whispered.

  "I saw his head hit the hull before he went under," he repeated in a hazy tone.

  "No one is to blame but the captain."

  "He was a troubled man," he nodded, stepping away from me.

  All around, men scurried, pulling at ropes, tying lines, and adjusting sails. They were pulling the ship to a halt, trying to turn it into water so it would come to a stop. It was useless, of course.

  I bit my knuckle as Johns strode to the center of the men gathering on deck. I walked to the edge, bracing my hands on the wood, and gazed out at the waves. The water called to me. I longed to dive in and feel it glide past my scales. I couldn't wait to spend my newfound freedom exploring the seas; I couldn't wait to see where the seas would take me, what adventures I'd find for myself. The ocean dipped and rose beneath the ship, cresting in waves. My fingers traced tiny patterns in the wood, ignoring the voices behind me for the most part until one, in particular, rang out clear as a bell.

  "It's that girl! She's a witch!"

  I turned to face the accusation with a look of horror on my face. My hands folded neatly in front of me, I stared into the face of an elderly man with curly white hair.

  "There's no such thing as witches," Johns spat.

  "But there are mermaids!" The older man pointed a finger at me, and I cocked an eyebrow.

  "You think I'm a mermaid? Where's my tail?" I gestured down to my legs.

  "Well, some folks say merfolk can take on legs when they want," he scoffed and looked around at his shipmates. "I'm tellin' ya, that girl shows up and now all of a sudden the captain's gone and killed hisself? Something's fishy and it's her!"

  I rolled my eyes and walked to Johns’ side. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder protectively and glared at the older man. "Watch yourself, Decker."

  The older man wiped at his brow, turning to the younger sailors. "Don't you see? She came from nowhere!"

  "Mermaids aren't real!"

  "Aye, mermaids are real, so are sirens," a voice called out from the throng.

  My head snapped in that direction.

  "Sirens?" Johns’ grip on my shoulder tightened as a man pushed to the front of the crowd.

  "Yessir," he mumbled. The man was short and round, and not much older than me. "Sirens are just like the mermaids everyone's yacking about, just a tad more murdery."

  A snort slipped out; I couldn't help it. Murdery mermaids. I shook my head and laughed.

  "Murdery mermaids? Have you lost your mind, son? Get off my deck unless you're workin’ these sails. There's a strong wind pushing us. I'll be below deck, studying the charts the captain left in his quarters."

  Johns tugged my hand along behind him toward the captain's quarters and slammed the door behind us.

  "What happened in here?" His voice was harsh as he spun to face me.

  "I told you, he got up and left—"

  Johns slammed me into the wall, my head cracking back against the wood. My head spun for a second, and I laughed when his hands came around my throat.

  "What are you doing to me, woman?" he demanded.

  "Nothing, nothing at all," I sang as my hands came down his wrists, pushing him off me. "I can't do anything to you, can I?" I purred.

  Johns shook his head and stepped back, staring down at the trail of purple magic where our skin had touched. "You are a witch, aren't you?" His eyes went wide.

  I shook my head, smiling as I moved toward him again. I wrapped my arms around Johns’ neck and kissed him. I slid my tongue over his and moaned when I felt the magic stirring between us. It wasn't the only thing stirring. Johns chased my lips when I leaned back.

  "I'm just a woman, Mr. Johns," I murmured as I peeled myself away from his grasp.

  "Just a woman," he repeated with a nod. He was sufficiently spelled now. I didn't think he'd be questioning me more anytime soon. I released him from the spell, and he walked through the room gathering objects at random. There were maps, scrolls, and ledgers lying haphazardly on crates and on the floor. He took them all and bustled from the room. I walked to the door, peering out at the deck before I shut it firmly. I slid the lock in place then bounced toward the bed.

  At least I have a nice room for my stay, now.

  Chapter Three

  I lounged on the bed, watching my toes wiggle. The small window on the far wall let me know the sun had long since set and the moon was now high in the sky. My eyes dropped back to the wiggling appendages, and I yawned into my hand before I jumped off the bed. I eased toward the door, cracking it slowly to peer out onto the deck.

  Two sailors relaxed against the mast, but the deck seemed otherwise empty. I stepped out and pulled the door closed behind me, creeping in shadows at the edge of the deck so I wouldn’t be seen. I may have been a little hasty in killing the captain. The crew was going to spiral, I could feel it. Things were about to get interesting on The Lady Rose.

  “Who the hell does he think he is?”

  “Calm down, before you cause a scene—”

  “You think Johns is fit to be captain?”

  The voices were loud. It seemed that the two sailors on deck were having a disagreement about the new leadership. I sighed and shook my head.

  “He was the first mate, it’s the way of it! Now quit your whinin’ and help me with this.”

  I had no idea what this was, but it must have been important enough for the first man to get to work, because the voices no longer reached me. I slipped down the stairs and through the hall that led to the crew’s quarters.

  Several of the doors I passed were c
losed. It was quiet except for a muffled conversation I could barely hear coming from the end of the hall. I stopped in front of the closed door I knew was Kesia's. My hand was raised, ready to knock, when the door flew open.

  Kesia walked into me and stumbled back, obviously taken off guard. I reached out to her shoulders to steady her with a smirk. She tossed me an apologetic smile and pulled the door closed behind her.

  "Oh! Hi." Her smile was wide.

  "Where are you off to?" I asked as I fell in step beside her, heading down the passage. We turned at the end of the corridor, sidestepping barrels as we went.

  "I need to get the food ready, it's almost time to feed the captives."

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop in the middle of the hall, raising an eyebrow. She met my gaze then looked away. I couldn't be certain, but it looked like she was embarrassed. Pushing that thought aside for the moment, I laced my fingers through hers.

  "It's the middle of the night," I pointed out.

  "The captain said they can be fed when it doesn't interfere with his crew's schedule or his crew's meals." Kesia blinked; her eyes were full of emotion.

  I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed it, sighing against her skin.

  "At least we don't have to worry about him anymore." I nodded and started walking down the hall again, pulling her with me even though I wasn't exactly sure where we were going.

  "Did you do that?" she hissed in her native tongue.

  I side-eyed her, my face stretching with a wicked grin.

  "Gia!" Kesia pulled me into a room I soon realized was meant to be the galley.

  I shrugged off her concerns, taking in the room instead. Open cabinets were packed with bags of grains. Vegetables hung from the ceiling, though most of them looked to be just this side of rotten. I trailed my hand along the oversized pot Kesia was already filling with some kind of grainy powder.

  "What is that?" I scrunched my nose up and shuddered when she began pouring water into the already odd concoction. The water sank into the mixture and then bubbled up to the top.

  "It's meal. Once the burner heats it, it'll make gruel." She shook her head as she lit the strange fire beneath the pot. "You killed him?"