I growled right back at him. Under my hood and hat I was certain he only saw my gnashing teeth, but my crazed reaction seemed to pay off well enough. For with a flimsy wave of his hand, he staggered away from me.
“How about that, Feather,” I whispered as I clutched him tight. “We scared that stupid drunkard away. Now, let’s get a room for the night.”
Finding no vacancy at the West Wind Inn, I quickly set out to seek something comparably nice. But there was no such luck. Not a one of the crumbling buildings looked like a desirable place to stay, but the crummy rooms had to be better than these rancid walkways. The damp ground smelled of human excrement, the musty air reeked of mold, and the disgusting men looked like demons in the mist. The whores who were having sex with the nasty men in the alleyways were no better. I would certainly have to leave this place as soon as I could.
Finding myself in front of Lacy Jane’s Inn, I decided to stay there for the night.
“Can I help you, sir?” the busty woman behind the counter purred.
“Oh, uh, I’d like a room for the night.”
Strutting around the counter, she tickled at my collar. “All my girls are busy, but I could give you a handy behind the counter if you’d like a quick fix.”
My jaw dropped in horror. “No. Sink me, no.” I backed out and away from her, cursing under my breath.
“What? You don’t like girls? For the right price I could find you a man.”
“No! God, no. I just want a room all to myself for a night.”
“All to yourself, eh?” She looked at me suspiciously. “Well, my place is full, as I already mentioned. Why don’t you head down to The Fluffy Feather and tell Bermuda Jo that Lacy Jane sent you. Everyone knows me here,” she boasted.
Not at all impressed, I offered a grumbled thank you and wandered towards The Fluffy Feather, hoping the omen of the name would offer me a better chance.
Along the way I saw a few men from Mason’s crew. Doing my best to keep my face covered, I happened to hear the familiar laughter of my friend Shark, but there was no comfort in the sight of him sloppily hanging all over a pox-faced harlot. Looking away from the terrible sight, I happened to see Gilroy having sex with a wench over a barrel in the alleyway. Disgusted to no end, I hurried into the entrance of The Fluffy Feather. I liked it better right away.
The entryway was well lit, the walls—though dilapidated—were coated in fine blue and gold striped wallpaper, and the counter was plated in solid gold. I rang the bell.
A well-dressed wench strutted towards me. “Well, hello there, Handsome.”
“Hello. I’m looking for Bermuda Jo. Lacy Jane sent me.”
“That would be me.” She giggled and stopped right in front of me. I turned away, but she wrapped her arms around me and shoved my face into her bosom, knocking my hat off. “What can I do for you?” she purred, completely ignoring the way I tried to break free from her lavender scented chest.
Finally able to pull away, I swooped up my hat and snarled, “I just want a room to myself.”
“Alone?” She licked her red lips.
“Yes. Alone. I will pay you well. I am very tired and…” I was fully ready to argue my point, but unlike Lacy Jane, Bermuda Jo happily offered me a room. I am sure the gold piece I handed her helped.
When she handed me the key to room Three, I realized how easy it would be for Mason to find me.
“Here.” I offered her a pearl necklace. “If anyone comes looking for me, you never saw me. I’ll give you another for each day that passes without me being found. Even if Lacy Jane asks, tell her I never found you.”
Bermuda Jo smiled wickedly. “I do not know your name, and I’ve hardly seen your face. Nor will anyone else.”
Finally making it to my room, I lit a candle and looked around. It was nowhere near as nice as the lobby. The bed was small, and though the blankets were surprisingly clean and nice, the nightstand was falling apart and the chair and desk looked like they had hardly survived a shipwreck.
Letting Feather out of my bag, I said, “Well, how about that? We made it, Feather. All on our own. The Ocean Eyed Witch and her Feather Tailed Cat have conquered their first feat of independence in this big ugly world.”
Hearing a fistfight break out on the street below my window, I shook my head. “Though this is not the kind of place I’d ever want to call home, it is better than being somebody’s whore. I have more to offer the world than my body, and with my own wit and skill I will get us off of this godforsaken island.”
Chapter 7
Dead Men Tell No Tales
Another night has passed, my friend.” I sat with Feather on the floor, breaking up small pieces of salted pork for him to eat. “That market is a terrible place.” I thought back on the way I’d been sneaking out in the night to forage for our meals. “I think we need to get off of this island before we have to go back there.”
I still had no idea how I was going to do that. I had hoped that a merchant ship would show up, but for now the harbor was only full of buccaneer ships, and I was beginning to feel trapped. But there was no turning back now. This was it. And one way or another I’d find my way to London.
After eating my meat, I sat down at the desk and started working on my drawing of the view. Through the lacy white curtains, I could see Gypsy Gem’s Tavern and Brothel, but with no mind to look upon the horrid festivities going on at that nasty place, I set my gaze on the harbor behind it. The masts of the ships stood tall above the buildings of town, and though Esmerelda was one of the first along the dock, there were plenty of other ships to focus on. So, I drew the others, doing my best to keep my eyes off of the cursed masts that I had led across the sea.
As of yet, I’d had no word from Mason. “Perhaps he is happy with his whores,” I said to Feather, rolling my eyes at the thought. As much as I wanted to pretend it didn’t hurt me, it did. “We’ll be better off one day, Feather. Soon enough, you’ll see.”
An hour easily passed as I worked on my drawing. Just as I determined the piece worthy to sell, I heard someone call his name outside. “Mason Bentley, you dirty ol’ chunk of driftwood! How the hell have you been?”
Jumping up as fast as I could, I covered my head with my black hood and peeked out of the window.
Shaking hands with the man who was so happy to see him, Mason smiled back and greeted him with similar joy. Though I wanted so badly to be angry with him, I was distracted by his terrible handsomeness. He was wearing a coat I had not seen. It was a deep dark red with an orange paisley print. His hair was nicely braided, and without a hat on to block my view of him, I nearly swooned when gazing into his rugged face.
“Damn him for being so gorgeous!” I cursed under my breath. “This would be much easier if he was ugly like that man he is talking to.”
Not looking the least bit troubled by the fact that I was missing, Mason carried on with his long lost friend. Just as I began to think that I would curse him from my window, I watched his ugly friend throw an arm over his shoulder and walk him into Gypsy Gem’s. Seeing a wench greet him in the doorway, and lead him in by hand, was enough for me to know that he was not worth my breath.
“A pox on him, Feather. I hope he gets the plague. Look at him smiling and laughing like he hasn’t a care in the world. How can he not be concerned about my whereabouts? He had to see that letter I left. Oh, even if he didn’t, he should be worried sick. You know what? It doesn’t matter. We are going to get out of here tonight. I can use this drawing to showcase my skills and get us on a damned pirate crew if we must. If Shark hasn’t figured me out as a woman, none of those stupid men will ever know. Hell, maybe we can even make some more money at sea before we settle down.”
X
Watching the sunset through the window and wishing I could paint the fiery colors reflecting off the furled sails of that stupid ship I hated, I chewed on a piece of salted pork and waited to make my move. Needing darkness as my advantage, I’d have to wait until night completely coated
the sky. And that seemed to be taking forever.
Yet…when it finally came, it seemed too soon.
“Here we go, Feather. This is it.” Putting Feather in my bag, I took a deep breath and headed out the door.
Reaching the poorly lit main street, I quickly slinked into the shadows. Even though I’d endured this routine for three nights in a row now, I had yet to acquire a tolerance for the god-awful place. The men were just as vile as the women were lewd, and everything smelled awful. But walking through the darkened alley that would take me around to the harbor, I came upon a scene that made the rest of this terrible world seem quaint.
Rape.
The girl—around my age—was crying and screaming just as I had when I’d been under the greasy clutches of the awful men who abused me. Her cries mirrored those that had been haunting my dreams, and his grunting echoed in the tortured recesses of my mind, igniting the fire of those hellish memories I had ever since been struggling to extinguish.
Though only a mere moment had passed, it seemed like time stood still as I watched her thin legs kicking and flailing around his fat back. When I watched him slap her across the face, it was as if I could feel the blow myself. But I no longer had to stand idle. I no longer had to cry in the shadows. Refusing to ever again be a victim, I chose to fight back.
In an attempt to save my own troubled spirit, I yanked him off of her.
The ugly man flew towards me, nearly knocking me over with his body weight. Catching my balance, I dropped my bag so Feather would not be hurt in the violence that was about to ensue. The victim ran away, and Feather leapt to high ground where he would be safe. Alone with the antagonist, I brandished my dagger as he came near. As he slowly slinked closer, my heart sank into my gut. I knew him. It was Gruff.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, little boy?” he growled as he grabbed a knife of his own, not bothering to fix his breeches.
“Getting you off of her.” I changed my accent to better shield my identity, which he had not yet recognized.
He laughed. “You jealous? Does the wee little laddie want some of the old Gruff, too?”
With Mason’s mention of men who liked men flashing through my mind, I tried to back away as Gruff lunged at me. Much stronger than me, he easily forced me down. With his heavy body landing on top of mine, thrashing and bashing me around, all of my tormenting memories came flooding back. But this was no time to cower. He had a knife, but so did I, and mine would draw first blood.
I stabbed him in the arm. The feel of my blade ripping through his muscle sent an exhilarating rush down my spine. As he screamed out in pain, I wanted to stab him again but he slapped me across the cheek, inflicting an inebriating haze upon my vision. He had slapped the hat right off my head, and through the blur of stars I was now seeing, I watched his eyes light up with a devilish gleam. “Midnight?”
Unable to read the emotion behind his tone, I could only hope he’d have mercy on his mate. “Yes, yes, it’s me.”
“Even better.” He let out a beasty, lustful growl. Ripping my shirt wide open, he then easily tore through the fabric I flattened my breasts with, but the moment he took in the surprise he had unveiled, he jumped up and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Oh, good Lord! You’re the captain’s lady! No wonder he’s been looking for you like a mad man.”
For a moment I was relieved that the fight was over, but then I realized…he knew. The man who raped young girls and boys knew that I was a woman, Mason’s woman. I stepped towards him with my dagger drawn.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He shook his hands at me. The fear in his eyes was childish. The man who a moment ago was ready to devour me like a piece of meat was now trembling like a scared little laddie. “I’d never mess with Bentley’s bitch.”
Stepping closer to him, I rumbled, “I am not Bentley’s bitch.”
“Well, you…he…I just thought…” He continued to stutter out some half-baked excuses, all of which made it apparent that his fear was based on Mason’s power. But right here, in this dark and disgusting alleyway, he was going to learn that Midnight held her own power.
Before he finished his whimpering, I jabbed my knife right into his neck. The blade ripped through the tender flesh hiding beneath his unkempt beard. His hot blood shot out wildly, coating my hand. I dug it in deeper as he gurgled, tearing the knife across his throat, but he dropped quickly, never to think or speak again.
My secret identity would remain uncharted, for dead men told no tales.
Walking away from my crewmate’s dead body, I felt the ghosts who once tormented my mind fly away into the night. In fear of me they fled.
“Bentley’s bitch? Ha!” I laughed like a lunatic. “I am the queen of this horrendous nightmare.”
Realizing that my bag felt light, I opened it to see that my cat was missing. Where was Feather? Turning around I saw that my loyal friend was following behind me. Oh, that’s right. I had sent him away. Kneeling down, I called him towards me. “Come here, my friend.” My voice was cold, mean, and unwelcoming, but he hopped up on my lap nonetheless.
“It is all right, my friend. We are going to be all right.” In the dim beam of lantern light that shone around the corner, I saw that there was blood on his head. Looking at the blackish liquid staining my white cuff sleeve, I realized what I had done. My blood rushed painfully, ripping through my veins like icicles. I killed someone. I killed Gruff. Oh my God, what would happen now?
Next thing I knew, I was walking towards the harbor. Numb of body and light of head, I felt like a spirit floating under my black cloak. The world was but a blur around me. I honestly knew not where I was headed, yet I quickly found myself looking upon a familiar spirit head with the name Esmerelda carved around it.
I climbed the gangway. As I reached the deck, Shark blocked my way. “Who are you under that hood? Show your face or I’ll show you my blade.”
“It’s me, Midnight.” I lowered my hood.
“Where’ve you been, Midnight?” Shark looked worried. “Captain’s been looking for you.” He covered my head with my hood and walked me to the captain’s cabin. Swaying down the familiar hall, I heard Mason’s voice drifting through the dank night air. The words he spoke were unclear over the ringing in my ears, but the sound funneled straight into my heart. My cold black heart. Like a lighthouse, yes, he was my beacon on the darkened sea that had flooded my mind. He would make everything all right.
Entering the lantern-lit cabin, I looked into his eyes and held out my bloody hands.
“Hannah!” Mason ran to me and wrapped me in his arms.
Standing as stiff as a board, I felt the heat of his body crack the ice that seemed to have stopped my blood from flowing. It hurt. The contrast of temperatures burned me to the core. Unsure if I felt better or worse when he let go of me, I struggled to keep my balance.
“Who did this to you? I’ll kill them right now.” Mason looked me over, panicking the way my father had the first time I scraped my knee. My father. Oh, no. Would I even see him in heaven now that I had killed somebody?
“No. No one did it,” I meekly responded.
“You did this to yourself?” He roughly flipped my sleeves up and scanned my wrists for cuts.
Feeling threatened by his aggressive gesture, I backed off. “You did this to me. This is your fault.” My voice rang louder than I had planned.
“My fault?” Mason shrieked with a crazed pitch that I was certain no one on his crew had ever heard him expel. The look on his face was so ridiculously desperate that his mates knew it was time to go. Shark’s jaw was dropped so low, he dragged it out with him as he left, and Reid stood up slowly, shaking his head. “This madness that strikes down both beggar and king.” He tipped his hat to Mason as he walked out of the room. “Love.”
Shutting the door behind them Mason pleaded, “Tell me what happened, Hannah. Where the hell have you been?”
“No.” I shook my head, remembering the ghastly sound of Gruff’s dying breath. �
��I don’t want to tell you.”
“Tell me, Hannah.” He grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him.
Feeling utterly transparent under the intensity of his gaze, I stuttered through my short heavy breaths. “I…I killed a man.”
Hearing the words increased the nausea. Feeling faint, I started heaving. While trying to catch my breath, the lights brightened around me. He held me tighter. My blood rushed slower. The ringing in my ears intensified. He was speaking. I couldn’t hear him. The world around me blackened like my heart.
Chapter 8
Never Give Up
“I caught myself a witch,” he said.
They laughed. Who were they?
Who was he? Whoever he was, he was carrying me. He smelled like sandalwood, hemp, and gunpowder. It was Mason. I was safe.
Darkness.
Stupid giggling. Whores. Naked whores.
Devilish laughter. Pirates.
Terrible smells.
Darkness.
Stairs. Perfume. Candles.
Darkness. Darkness painted with bloodshed and death. Gun blasts. Detached body parts. Bloodstained maps. Sex. Hair pulling, neck biting, heart racing sex. Mason.
Darkness. Fluffy blankets. Soft pillows. A warm bath. Mason’s voice.
Darkness. My father. His loving smile. Thomas. His delightful laughter. My Feather. Oh, I loved my Feather. I pulled him close. He purred. I was awake.
Looking around, I realized I was in an inn room. Sunlight was shining through the massive window overlooking the bay. Beautiful drapes framed the scene. The gold colored blankets I was lying on were very soft, and the clean, plum colored sheets smelled like perfume. While wondering just where the hell I was, I saw Mason sleeping in a chair. Shirt off, hair down, with an empty bottle of rum on the table before him, his chest heaved as he snored.
“Mason.” I whispered his name.
He jumped at the sound of my voice, springing to his feet as if he was struck by lightning. Looking around the peaceful place, he caught his breath and ran his hand through his wild mop. “Hannah.” He sighed in relief and sat down on the bed beside me. “I’m so glad you came back.” He ran his hand across my braid.
Queen Of My Nightmare (Uncharted Secrets, Book 2): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 7
