by Minda Webber
In other words, they were in deep barnacles.
Eve frowned. "It's just us, then? Us against Hook and his whole debauched crew? Blister it all!" Sparing a glance at her butler, she reorganized her thoughts, planning the rescue operation. "Teeter, you're tall and strong. You come too—and Pavlov." She nodded to the housekeeper. "Mrs. Fawlty and Collins will be in charge here." And so saying, she hurried out the door with the captain right behind.
Totter had to duck his head as he followed them into the carriage. Teeter and Pavlov soon appeared, while Fester swung himself up on top to ride by the driver.
"Put 'em to it," Bluebeard shouted, and the horses clattered off. Eve looked back to see all her patients standing and staring, not realizing they were plotting mutiny.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hook and All
The light of a dozen lanterns lit the deck of the Tiger Lily and the bruised and bloody man tied to one of the ship's masts. A crew of bloodthirsty pirates surrounded him. The night was windy and his shirt fluttered in the breeze. Again, Adam jerked as the cat-o'-nine-tails bit into his skin. The whip drew blood, and he bit his lip to keep from making a noise. He wouldn't give Captain Hook the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt.
The pain eased after a moment, and Adam breathed better. He had been in hundreds of tight spots before, and had always gotten away. This time, however, he felt he was in too deep. Behind him he heard Captain Hook raise the whip.
"Eve's mine! She'll always be, you misbegotten cur. You dared touch her, but now I've got you in my hands and you'll rue the day," Hook ranted, his expression filled with loathing.
Lifting his head to judge the moon's ascent, Adam bided his time. Soon he would be able to transform. Then there would be hell to pay.
"Eve's mine. She loves me," he replied.
The taunt infuriated Hook further. Growling, the captain struck with his whip again, the lash biting into Adam's back. Adam cringed in pain. He was weak now, as he had only barely survived the keelhauling this afternoon. Only his supernatural strength and stamina had kept him alive, but survive he had, because he now had a life to live for, complete with his true love and a family. Okay, an odd sort of family, but a family just the same, where he was needed and respected.
He groaned, waiting for the whip to fall again. The full, round moon was creeping ever closer to the midpoint in the sky, when all shape-shifters would shift into their secondary forms. He wished it would move faster. Captain Hook was in for a big surprise.
"I love Eve Bluebeard. I've always loved her. When you're dead she'll marry me, and together we'll sail the oceans and spend her father's fortune." Hook was laughing maniacally as his nose began to twitch, catching the scent of all that lovely blood on Adam's back. His fingers elongated as claws burst through the skin. He snapped his cat-o'-nine-tails. "I intend to eat most of you, but I'll leave your head so that people will know you're dead."
"Over my dead body," Adam replied. The pain in his back was amplifying, causing him some dizziness. Yet beyond the pain he could feel the moon's power tightening his muscles and making his blood hum. He could feel the change coming upon him, which meant that the wererats aboard ship were feeling the moon's call as well. He hoped he could overcome them.
"Precisely!" Hook replied, laughing demonically.
Adam started to protest, but a sudden sound of scrambling and noise on wooden planks had him lifting his head off his chest. He couldn't believe his eyes.
"Well, laddie, I'm afraid you'll have more to eat than you bargained for. You'll have to add me own fine carcass to the mix." It was Captain Bluebeard, who snarled as he stepped into the lantern light, clutching a pistol in each hand.
"And mine," Eve shouted, appearing from behind a stack of barrels. "You dirty rat!"
"And mine," Sir Loring cried, the glow of the lanterns shining red in his eyes, making his sharp fangs glint.
"And mine," came a chorus of the Towers' patients. They stepped up behind the Bluebeards, along with two of Captain Bluebeard's original crew and Junger.
"You rotten rodent! You stole me gold! A pox upon yer blighted head!" Fester was hopping mad, and what little hair was upon his baldpate stuck straight up as he shouted at Hook.
"Ye double-crossed me, laddie, and ye know how I feel about mutiny. I can't let it go," Bluebeard chimed in again.
Whip still in hand, ratlike claws extending, Hook froze, his dark eye showing astonishment. "How did you get here? We're two miles out to sea. How could ye find us?"
"We rowed," Bluebeard replied, a brutal grin on his bearded face. "And ye forget yourself, boy. Remember, I've werewolf blood flowing through me veins. I sniffed ye out, you and your ratty crew."
"I didn't hear you come aboard," Hook said, his tone one of cold curiosity.
"We were quiet as mice." Bluebeard laughed. "Didn't think ye'd be setting out cheese plates in welcome."
Hook snarled, his beady eye dark with fury. "It's a shame. All this folderol over a nobody."
"Not a nobody anymore," Eve cried. "He's somebody, and the only anybody I ever want. He's Adam Griffin, my cherished husband." Eve stared at her beloved, processing the bloody welts on Adam's back. How she hated Hook. Thank goodness there was a plank nearby.
Staring hard at Hook, Bluebeard shook his head. What a waste, what a tragedy. Men would die tonight—good men, bad men, and many, many rats.
"Ye didn't think I'd let ye kill me son-in-law," he said. "Not when he's just shown up and hasn't had time to get me daughter with child—did you? Especially not when I handpicked him meself."
Dropping the whip, Hook began to snarl, his mouth protruding slightly as his canines finished their transformation. They looked extremely sharp. His shoulders hunched slightly, and a scattering of coarse fur began to grow upon his body. Behind Hook, the sound of clothes ripping and shredding filled the night, along with the squeals of men becoming giant mice-men.
Rats, thought Eve.
"You think to stop us, Edward? I don't think so. Maybe you and this mangy crew might have had a chance on another night, but tonight the moon is full, and you aren't a full shape-shifter. Most of my crew are full-bloods. Tonight you are food for us rats." Hook paused. "Leave now, Bluebeard, and I'll let you live. If not, I'll have your liver for supper while your daughter watches."
"Not full shape-shifters?" Mr. Pryce called out, stepping to the front of Bluebeard's band. "I am." Everyone gave a gasp of surprise, except Mrs. Monkfort, who remarked with adoration, "My hero."
Jack the Rip growled and stepped forward, red fur sprouting on his foxy face, and revealing sharp little teeth and pointed ears. "I'm looking forward to a little snack," he said.
Hook's laugh was razor-sharp. "I have thirty crew members, and twenty-three are wererats," he said. The sounds of claws and paws filled the air. Time was up. Hook's crew had finished their transformations, and their heads had reshaped into those of giant rats. Long tails protruded from their hairy buttocks, and extremely wicked-looking teeth were bared in anger.
Suddenly Major Gallant charged out of nowhere, in Bonaparte style, an imaginary sword in his hand. The mutt Junger was nipping at his heels and barking frenziedly. Eve gasped, then watched in stunned disbelief as the nimble Hugo also appeared, leaping from the rigging to the crow's nest. From there he swung across the yardarm, his little face twisted in gleeful madness. He pelted the pirats with marbles, causing them to slip and slide as if they were learning a new kind of jig.
Jack the Rip charged forward, caught sight of one crewman's tattoo—a rose—and, just as the pirate drew his blade, exposed himself. "Take that!" he yelled to the stunned pirate. Before the man could reply, he was knocked overboard by Hugo. The splash he made started the battle.
Adam stared in astonishment, for Eve's patients were out in full force, the whole mad lot. And this time, it was to his benefit! He loved the whole scurvy lot. He would have laughed at the absurdity of it all if Hook weren't leering at Eve.
"Soon you'll be min
e," the wererat captain snarled, then he turned to attack Adam.
"Never!" Eve retorted.
Adam saw dark figures sneaking up behind her, and he yelled, "Darling, there!" He pointed.
Grabbing her pistol, she spun and fired. The shot hit one rat bastard right in the eye. He fell and did not rise.
Adam grinned, admiring his wife's deadly aim as she dodged another wererat and fired at close range, blowing out its brains. Fester jumped upon a nearby pi-rat's back with a shout of rage, his little face red. "I want me gold!" he cried. And two more of Hook's crew jumped overboard to avoid his maniacal charge.
As Hugo sailed past on a rope, Adam admitted, Yes, the lunatics were in full swing. And those like Gallant and Fester were in charge.
He turned to find Eve, sniffing, intending to use his keen sense of smell. She had disappeared far into the maddening crowd. The foolish woman had risked her life to save him, and surprisingly so had Captain Bluebeard. He had to save her. He had to break free before Hook returned.
Blood loss slowed Adam's shape changing, but finally he felt the tremors begin and the skin on his back and shoulders stretch. He fought, working hard not to transform completely; he wanted to be able to explain his shape to Eve. But his eyesight became sharper, and the raw, ravaged flesh on his back slit open for massive wings to emerge. Talonlike hooks burst through his toes and fingertips. He used those to rip free of his bonds.
Throwing back his head, he stretched, feeling strength course through him as the ropes fell away. Long, brownish-gray wings had erupted from his back. A dusting of feathers now covered his chest and arms, while a short beak had formed—a very sharp, slightly curved beak. A beak that he would soon use to good advantage, for he was immediately confronted by none other than Captain Hook himself.
"Damn you to hell! You're a werehawk," the head pirat hissed between his daggerlike teeth. He raised his hook to the sky and shook it, raging at heaven and hell and everything in between. Adam valiantly faced the monster.
In the process of reloading her pistol, Eve glanced over at Adam to see how he was faring. Gasping, she was shocked into stillness at the sight of her lover. Adam was a werehawk, and his wings were magnificent!
"Blast me to smithereens with a bottle of rum," she mumbled, appalled at the fact that she hadn't even known this part of his nature. He must be of a royal lineage to be able to blend into humanity so smoothly.
Off to her side, she heard Major Gallant charging up and down the deck, yelling, while she finished loading her pistols. She shook her head grimly. Major Gallant should show more fangs and less dash, and Adam shouldn't have kept his heritage a secret. But while she ought to be furious, she found she was not. He was such a splendid specimen, in the prime of life, and with such magnificent wings and glorious feathers… He was also battling for his very life.
As her two supernatural suitors clashed, Eve held her breath, praying that her beloved would prevail. Hook couldn't win. She winced as he clawed Adam across the chest, but Adam struck back and slashed Hook's face with a talon. Rivulets of blood filled the wererat's good eye. And though the fight turned bloodier from there, Eve was forced to turn her attention back to her own precarious situation. She was surrounded by three of Hook's goons.
She immediately shot one of them with a pistol, but her second shot was delayed as the firing pin jammed. She threw the pistol aside and reached for her cutlass, feeling the wererat's fetid breath on her shoulder. In the nick of time, she was saved by Teeter, who grabbed the rapacious rat and threw him over the side of the ship. The last rat attacking Eve saw that he was alone and turned to scurry away. But he lost the race as Mrs. Monkfort set him on fire with a torch, screeching, "Rats! Dirty, nasty little buggers! Off the ship, I say—off the ship!"
The wererat obeyed, jumping into the water with the smell of scorched hair trailing after. The intrepid Mrs. Monkfort was encouraged by the result, and began to shove her torch at two more nearby wererats.
Observing Mrs. Monkfort's success, Pavlov stepped up. He urged the others to pick up torches—with the exception of Sir Loring, Jack the Rip, and Mr. Pryce, who, being werecreatures, had a fear of fire. Rapidly Bluebeard's crew began forcing Hook's over the side. Soon only a small contingent remained, encircled by the Towers lunatic army.
"Deserting a sinking ship?" Eve called out to the fleeing wererats, and managed a shaky laugh. "Bravo! Bravo!" Then, feeling a whisper of wind behind her, she turned to find Adam. His chest was bleeding slightly, but behind him Hook lay dead.
Eve shook her head. Evil would always come to an end, and good would always triumph. Or so she wanted to believe.
Adam's breathing slowed as he saw that Eve was not injured. She might be a bit of a mess, what with her hair waving in the night breeze and gunpowder on her clothes and cheeks, but didn't she look lovely? He would never forget the way she looked tonight. The wind whipped through her hair, and the cool sea breeze brought a rosy hue to her cheeks. He wanted to enfold her in his arms—wings—forever. Yet, in spite of the almost irresistible urge to clasp her close, he remained motionless, trying to judge what she was feeling about his ancestry. His heart pounded in his chest. Her grandparents had been a mixed couple, and he hoped Eve had no prejudices.
"Eve?" he said.
His fears were swiftly displaced. She gave him a blinding smile and rushed into his arms, clasping her hands around his neck, holding on for all she was worth.
"Oh, Adam—you could have died!" she cried, breathless. "What would I have done without you?"
"Have an empty bed again." Mrs. Fawlty just had to put in her two guineas.
A few chuckles were heard, but Eve lovingly touched Adam's feathers. "My, my. I must say that you are a fine-feathered figure of a man. Adam, you're a werehawk! Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. "Mmm, soft."
"Darling girl, you could have been hurt!" Adam countered. He wrapped Eve in his wings. She was smiling up at him. Apparently his supernatural heritage hadn't shocked or repulsed her. And she didn't appear to be mad at him for keeping the secret.
Glancing around at the crowd of the dotty and dithering, he crowed. Above, Hugo swung from the crow's nest.
Junger and Jack the Rip began howling in unison, raising their voices—and fortunately, nothing else—in triumphant song. Major Gallant charged up the steps to the main deck, calling, "The scurvy rats, they jumped ship! Charge, me buckos—once more into the breach!"
All Eve wanted was once more into Adam's breeches.
On the lower deck, Mrs. Monkfort was already busy swabbing, and Fester was busy searching out his pilfered pots. Sir Loring was petting some dirt he had brought with him, while Mr. Pryce was relieving himself on a railing. Eve was glad he was acting more wolfish than flylike.
As his wife broke out of his embrace and doubled over laughing, Adam quickly followed. Life had never looked better to him. Even Captain Bluebeard was chortling, his dancing blue eyes merry with amusement—and victory.
Several moments passed with the golden glow of the full moon shining down on the deckfull of merrymakers. Congratulations and praise were uttered. Everyone was in a gay mood, even those who had been wounded.
Suddenly, Eve stopped chuckling and narrowed her eyes at her impossible husband. Yanking on Adam's feathered chest, she spoke fiercely. "I was so mad at you when I discovered Fester really had gold and that it was missing. I thought you'd taken it. I was miserable. I thought that you'd betrayed me. Oh, Adam, I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" She tugged again on the feathered chest. "How could you let me be so miserable? Next time you're kidnapped by a deranged rodent, leave a note."
"I will, my darling," he agreed, seeing how upset his dear wife was. He would promise her anything. And pulling her close to his side, he kissed the top of her forehead and chided her softly, "I don't know many women who would have risked their lives for me. You're a pearl, and the only treasure I'll ever again need. Your price is far above rubies. Now promise me you won't do anything so stupid again."
> "Stupid?" she shouted in outrage. "Shiver me timbers. I was worried sick about you! Stupid?"
Taking in the scene, Bluebeard knew when to interrupt. Using a father-in-law's prerogative, he spoke: "Now, Evie, Adam's just worried about your health—as all good husbands should be. But, Adam, me daughter ain't got a stupid bone in her body."
Both Adam and Eve glared at him.
Bluebeard glared back. "It's me right to counsel! What kind of father would I be if I didn't?"
Eve stamped her foot. "The way I see it, you don't need to be giving advice but an apology to Adam."
"Now, why should I be apologizing when my little trick has given him the best thing he's ever had?"
"Father," Eve threatened.
"What apology?" Adam asked, noting how Captain Bluebeard avoided his gaze.
"It weren't that awful. I don't know what me daughter is carrying on about." The pirate captain looked abashed. "I might have played both ye and Hook against each other in me plan to see Eve happily wed. I always wanted ye to be the one to stay and be a true husband to me lassie, but I feared ye would balk at being permanently wed. And though I admired some things about Hook, he would never have made a good husband."
The Captain's comments took Adam aback. "Eve, do you see any planks about?" he asked.
Eve gave a startled gasp, half-amused by her husband's comment. But placing her hand on his arm, she gave a squeeze. "I've traded my fascination with planks for family harmony."
His gaze flicked between the two Bluebeards, and Adam thought hard. Then he nodded in acceptance of both the apology and the knowledge that the captain considered him a fitting mate for his beloved daughter. "You did what you had to do. And the result is paradise found rather than lost."
An amused smile graced Eve's lovely features; then she turned to her father, shaking her head slightly. "I should box your ears. Or at least scold you. But I find I can't. You made a good move, Father. One worthy of the Bluebeard heritage. Aye, you old scalawag, we all discovered treasure far from where we buried it."
