Pirate's Persuasion (Sentinels of Savannah)

by Lisa Kessler

  David ground his teeth, his jaw clenching against the wave of nausea as he stood up. The screeching intensified with each step closer to Ashley’s house. In spite of the sweat stinging his eyes, he kept his focus forward, fixated on his singular goal. One step at a time, each more difficult than the last.

  By the time he reached her door, his breathing was labored and his gut tied in knots. He drew his Glock, unable to keep it from shaking. With his other hand he twisted the knob. Locked. He smashed the gun through the side window and stretched his arm inside to unfasten the deadbolt. Somewhere in the depths of his tortured mind it registered this was against rules, against the law, but he didn’t slow. Survival was more important.

  He stumbled through the door, wincing as the volume ramped up in his head. Ashley was on the couch. Or what used to be Ashley. He blinked, lifting his weapon in her direction. She didn’t move. Her eyes were pure red and unblinking, her mouth shaped in a perfect O, and although she was indoors with all the windows and doors closed, her hair…floated. Like she was underwater.

  He rubbed his arm across his forehead, fighting for coherent thought. It was an impossible errand against the shrieks in his head. Even so, he couldn’t shake the idea that maybe…Ashley was the figurehead.

  Suddenly she blinked, her eyes once again human. Her mouth snapped shut, silencing the banshee in his head. Before he could squeeze his trigger finger, the world went dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Stay inside your circles,” Heather cautioned the crew from her own circle of salt. She turned to Drake. “Ashley needs something meaningful to you in order for the spirits to locate you. I noticed my grandmother’s ring was missing tonight. Ashley must be using it to attack me.” She glanced at the others. “What could she have taken from all of you?”

  Colton and John shared a look before the quartermaster answered, “The ship’s colors.”

  “The pirate flag?” Heather wasn’t so sure. “Why wouldn’t her spell have affected the entire crew? Drake, One-Eyed Bob, and Caleb were spared.”

  The cook spoke first. “The three of us have never raised the colors. I’m always in the galley, Drake is making repairs to the ship, and Caleb stays busy with his navigation charts. I can’t remember the last time I touched the fabric of that old flag.”

  “He’s right,” Drake replied. “I can see it in my sleep, but I’ve never laid a finger on it.”

  Caleb gave a ponderous nod. “Me neither.”

  “Everyone else has raised the flag?” Heather scanned the nodding crew members. “All right. It won’t be safe for any of you to sail tonight. The ring of salt is the only thing keeping the spirits away.”

  Drake’s attention shifted from the elderly pirate cook to their bookish navigator and then turned toward Heather. “We can’t sail the Sea Dog back to port with only three men. There aren’t enough of us to tack into the wind. The ship’s too damn big.”

  Heather’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Goose bumps rose on her arms as she withdrew the cell. Her sister’s name lit up the screen.

  She cleared her throat and accepted the call. “Ash?”

  “I have your ex tied up in my basement. You have until tomorrow morning to meet me at my house. Bring Drake. Anyone else tags along and you’re all dead.”

  “Since you just attacked the entire Sea Dog crew tonight, I’m guessing you already know we’re out to sea. We’ll never make it back to Savannah by morning unless you stop the spirits from tormenting the crew.”

  “Done.” Ashley’s voice morphed into a feral snarl. “I’ll see you and Drake at my door in the morning, or pretty Agent Bale’s blood is all over your snow-white hands.”

  The call ended and Heather got to her feet. Whatever her sister was planning, it wasn’t good. But she couldn’t let her kill David. Heather’s hands trembled. Her twin sister was threatening to kill someone, and for the first time, Heather truly believed Ashley would follow through on her threat.

  She took a deep breath and stepped over the salt barrier.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Drake rushed to her side.

  “I told Ashley she had to call off her spirits so we can sail back to port. I’m just checking to see if she did.”

  Drake gave her a little space, but not much. Not since her grandmother passed away had she had someone in her corner, supporting her and believing in her. It would be so easy to love him. Setting him free would be another story.

  She pushed the thought from her mind and listened for any screeching banshees.

  He took her hand, his jaw tight with worry. “Hear anything?”

  “Not yet.” She looked over at Colton. “You next.”

  He got up, wiping his brow before stepping across the barrier. “Nothing.”

  “Good. We have to get back to Savannah as soon as possible.” Heather squeezed Drake’s hand. “Then we need to talk.”

  “Fair enough. They’re going to need my help turning around.” He paused and added, “Your sister needs to be stopped, love. She’s beyond your saving now.”

  “I know.” Heather nodded slowly, the image of her father’s decaying face filling her memory. He had lifted his finger, pointing at her chest. His waterlogged voice gurgled, This is all your fault.

  Drake leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Stay with Bob in the galley. I’ll be back after we get the ship sailing for shore.”

  Heather did her best to shake off the memories of the attack, but seeing her father again ripped open a wound that had never really healed. They had argued the day he took Ashley out in the boat.

  And this was not the closure she’d always longed for.

  She found Bob inside, frying a pan of shrimp. He looked over at her with a gentle smile. “You look lost, lass.”

  Heather sighed. “That’s a good way to put it, I think.”

  He patted a stool next to him. “I’ve still got two good ears.”

  Heather took the offered seat and folded her hands in her lap. “I know the figurehead allows Ashley to control the spirits. Drake’s nephew told me she makes them lie and hurt you. Even so…I wasn’t prepared.”

  “Any idea why your sister is targeting you and the crew?”

  “I have a hunch.” She lifted her gaze. “She’s always been jealous of me because my grandmother and I were both mediums. It kept us from being very close. She said something to me earlier today. I was so shocked to hear her claim to be my online friend that I hadn’t given it much thought. She claimed I was her only hope now. What could that mean?”

  Bob stopped stirring the shrimp. “Then why attack the whole crew?”

  “I think she wanted to be sure I couldn’t back out of meeting her tomorrow morning. The crew got caught in the crossfire. I don’t know.”

  “Was Drake caught in the crossfire too?”

  Heather stared at her hands. She’d been wondering the same thing. After Ashley’s admission about being Queenie, she couldn’t hide from the truth any longer. “She knew about Drake protecting me in the cemetery. I confided all my feelings to her.” She lifted her gaze. “Maybe hurting him was really to get to me?”

  “Sorry, lass.” One-Eyed Bob poured the sautéed shrimp onto a platter and glanced her way. “Are ye going to meet her? If tonight is any indication, she means to hurt you.”

  Heather stared down at her hands. “My father kept telling me tonight that this is my fault. He said I drove my sister to this, and that I doom every person who cares about me to a lifetime of torment.”

  “That’s what she wants you to think. Your father was under the figurehead’s spell.”

  “I argued with my dad the day he died.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “His mother’s spirit came through to me that morning, urgent to stop him from going out on the water that day. I tried. I gave him the message but…” Memories of that day flooded her until her voice cracked
with emotion. “He didn’t believe me. He accused me of making it up so that my sister couldn’t go fishing. I begged him to wait another day, and when that didn’t work, I threatened that I’d never forgive him if he left.” Tears stung her eyes. “His last words to me before he was lost at sea were to grow up and stop being so selfish.”

  Over the years since, she’d convinced herself that he must’ve known she didn’t mean it. Her anger had fizzled the second he closed the door. Seeing him tonight and hearing his voice again shook her to the core.

  “What if he was right? If I don’t drink from the Grail, I’m dooming Drake to pain and torment. He’d have to watch me grow old and die, without the hope of ever being reunited.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I am selfish.”

  “No.” Bob set the platter of shrimp aside and took both of her hands in his, forcing her to focus on him. “Those weren’t your pappy’s words, lass. It was your sister talking, putting words in his mouth. I had never seen Drake grin, or heard him laugh, since the original Sea Dog sank. You gave him that. You reminded him what living is all about.” A gentle smile curved on his lips. “Love is the most unselfish gift you could give.”

  “If I back off now, he could find someone else. Maybe he’d find someone more willing to take a drink.”

  “Now is that really what you want?” One-Eyed Bob shook his head slowly with a knowing wink.

  Heather laughed as a tear broke free from her lashes. “No. But if I loved him, I would want him to find happiness, not cause him pain. Walking away is the only way to give him a chance at that.”

  …

  Drake entered the galley of the ship and stopped as he heard Heather’s words. Pain lanced through his heart, draining the hope she’d ignited and leaving behind anger and bitterness.

  These were emotions he understood.

  “Really?” He stepped forward, interrupting Heather and the cook. “How noble did it feel when Bale walked out on you?”

  Heather gasped and spun around on the stool. “How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough.” Seeing her look up at him with regret in her eyes only stoked the fire in his chest. She didn’t regret her choice, only that he overheard her decision. “Was I going to have any say in this plan of yours? I respected your wishes about not taking a drink from that cup. That doesn’t change how I feel about you. Do you doubt I understand what it means for us if you choose not to drink? I’ve known death, Heather.” He sighed and glanced at Bob. “Can we get a minute?”

  One-Eyed Bob nodded and carried the trays of food out to the open deck, leaving them in silence.

  “The last thing I want is to hurt you.” Heather got to her feet, standing in front of him. “My father’s spirit came to me tonight, and not everything he said was a lie. Everyone who cares about me always ends up miserable. That’s why I live alone in that big house and my only friend was online. You deserve a partner forever, Drake. I want that for you.”

  “That’s utter bullshit.” He understood now. This was from the attack. His tone softened. “She made the ghosts tell you that, love.”

  Her eyes had been haunted after the figurehead’s spell. His experiences had left him unable to sleep and jumping at every shadow. How much worse would it have been for a woman with her psychic abilities?

  “Actually, I’ve been struggling with this all day, not just because of the ghosts.” She searched his eyes, and he fought to keep his expression stoic as she carved his beating heart from his chest with her words. “After we find the figurehead, I think we should…stop seeing each other.”

  His entire body tensed. He bottled up the emotions. He’d be alone again. This was familiar territory. He’d been stupid to let her in. He knew better.

  Drake whispered, “I don’t need you or anyone else to protect me from facing forever. I know damned well how to go on living. I’ll honor your decision if it makes you happy. That’s all I’ve ever wished for you. But know this…this is not what I want.”

  She studied his face, her eyes shining with tears that made him ache to comfort her. There was no way in hell he was going to reassure her. This decision would be the end of him, if death were a possibility anymore.

  “I’m so sorry.” Heather took a step back, putting more space between them as she wiped her nose. “When my sister called earlier, it was to arrange a trade. Ashley has David. You and I need to go to her house tomorrow morning, or she’ll kill him.”

  “No.” Drake answered instinctively. He pulled his hair back from his forehead, part of him grateful to be able to focus on a new problem. Anything to distract him from the pain of losing her. “Agent Bale is immortal like us. She’ll figure that out soon enough.”

  “If she found his satchel of healing herbs, then he’s every bit as mortal as I am.” Her eyes pleaded with him, twisting his already wounded heart. “I know I have no right to ask this of you, but if he dies and I could have saved him, I won’t be able to live with myself.”

  “So you’ll let her have you instead.” He took her hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles before he could stop himself. Soothing her was like breathing. “There’s got to be another way. Bale has probably already called reinforcements.”

  “If she used that figurehead against him, I can promise you, there’s no way he called the office. Even David has limits to his self-control.”

  Drake ignored the spike of jealousy that pinged at her intimate knowledge about the government agent. “Fine. But we’re not going in there alone.”

  Drake’s fingers slid free from hers as he paced the galley. There must be a way to contact Department 13. Maybe the government had some supernatural gadgets, or a spell, or something to shield them from Ashley’s magic. Then it hit him.

  “Char.” He reached for Heather’s hand but stopped himself. He cleared his throat. “Come on. We need to talk to Keegan. Char’s father works for Department 13. She must have his phone number.”

  On the open deck, Keegan gripped the pegs on the wheel until his knuckles were white with effort. No sign of his usual swagger. He nodded to Drake. “What’s up, mate?”

  Drake glanced at Heather, then answered Keegan. “Heather’s sister has Agent Bale. She wants us in trade.”

  Keegan smirked. “Suicide mission.”

  “Maybe not if we can contact his agents for backup.” Drake paused a moment before adding, “I need the number for Char’s father.”

  Agent Bale and Department 13 had Char on a list of citizens with potentially dangerous psychic abilities. Char’s father worked for them, so Keegan didn’t trust him. Keegan did his best to shield her and keep her off their radar.

  Keegan’s gaze cut over to Drake. “I don’t want Char getting tangled in this mess.”

  “And she won’t.” Drake gripped Keegan’s shoulder. “I swear this won’t touch her.”

  A muscle tensed in Keegan’s cheek, but he took out his cell and fired off a text. A few seconds later, with his eyes still on the horizon, he handed over his phone when it pinged. Drake entered the number for Kingsley Pratt into his cell.

  “Thanks, Keegan.” He turned to Heather. “I’ll make the call. You might as well eat before One-Eyed Bob’s food gets cold.”

  She nodded with a halfhearted smile and crossed to the railing of the ship. Her silver hair blew in the wind, almost glowing in the moonlight. Gods, she had an ethereal beauty he couldn’t put into words. Like an angel. His angel.

  Not his anymore.

  He clenched his fist. Whether she wanted him in her life or not, there was no way he’d allow her sister to harm her. Maybe Department 13 would be able to rescue Bale on their own tonight, and if that didn’t work, Miss Bianca’s special healing root would be his final card to play.

  This game would be much less treacherous if they could play it out on Heather’s computer. Or better yet, if he could lock Heather away in a secret room, far from Sav
annah.

  As long as Ashley had that figurehead and their grandmother’s ring, she could attack Heather anywhere. There was nowhere to hide. And tonight’s demonstration proved Ashley could take on multiple targets at once. She had an untold number of spirits at her fingertips.

  He pressed the number for Kingsley Pratt while keeping watch over Heather’s every move, memorizing every curve of her face, and loathing the wall being constructed between them.

  How could he walk away now? How could she ask him to?

  He ground his teeth. Fuck this plan. She was worth fighting for.

  And Drake had plenty of fight left in him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  David opened his eyes and winced at the overhead light. Too bright. What happened? How long had he been out? He scanned the windowless room. Block walls, a table, and stacks of boxes. He must be in a basement. He struggled to piece together his last conscious memories. Ashley. Shit. He needed to get out of here. Rolling onto his side, he flexed his hands behind his back, attempting to twist his bound wrists. Duct tape. His gaze wandered down his body. His knees and ankles were also wrapped in the silver tape. He wouldn’t get far if he had to hop. His head throbbed. At least the screeching had gone silent. He could think again.

  If he could get his hands free, he could call his team. No telling if there would be a cell signal down here, but it was a start. He wrenched his arms, fighting to stretch the binding while he struggled to form a plan. He couldn’t reach his gun or his healing herbs. Hell, for all he knew, she’d already taken them from him. The Trinity Stone was out of reach now, too.

  He closed his eyes and took a breath, commanding the panic to subside. Clear heads lived to fight another day. He ran through his options. Without being able to use his weapons or herbs, that left magic as his last resort. Most of the defensive spells in his wheelhouse required the use of his hands to make the corresponding symbols before the energy would flow.

  A door opened, and his eyes did the same.

  Footsteps padded down the stairs, and then Ashley came into view. “Comfy?”