by Guida, ML
She stiffened and dropped her hand. “No, Lark is not weak. He has strong magic.”
“Yet he is Zuto’s slave,” he murmured.
“If Zuto had your brother, would you stay away because ’twas safe?”
He turned and relaxed his grip. “No, I wouldn’t.”
Taking her chance, she moved. “Then how can you ask me to stay away?”
“Because I don’t want you to see what I’ve seen, Mariah. War changes you. Watching people you love die robs you of your soul. I don’t want you to grow hard and bitter.”
His low voice caught her attention. He was warning her, preparing her for the worst. “Is that what happened to you?” she asked, her voice small. “Have you watched someone you care about die?”
“Aye, I have. And I don’t want you to go through that same pain.”
She wanted to argue that she could handle it. But could she watch her brother die? Beneath William’s stubbornness and arrogance was a man haunted by the pain of war, and he wanted to shield her, protect her. For the past year, she’d had to be strong to care for her ailing grandparents and a headstrong brother, and to have someone take the upper hand muddled her mind.
Who had he lost in the war? Before she could ask, he clasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Your hand is so soft and fragrant.”
The brief kiss ignited the fire in her belly and stole the words from her lips.
His gaze shifted to her lips, which she couldn’t help but moisten. He pulled her close to him. His rapid heartbeat pounded beneath her hands. He wanted her. The heat of his body, the smoothness of his skin, and the warmth of his breath heightened her senses. Her skin tightened everywhere, and her knees weakened. She clung to his arms and parted her lips.
He crushed her to him and captured her lips. His masculine scent of a smoldering wood stirred her loins, and she opened her mouth, anxious to taste him. He did not disappoint. Their tongues intertwined, dancing together, exploring each other’s secrets. His kiss was demanding, alluring, possessive. Her legs threatened to give away. She moved her hands up his muscular arms and clung to his massive shoulders.
Ever since she had fled from France with Lark, her grandparents had protected her, kept her hidden from the men in the village. She had stolen kisses at dances, but never wanted to bring a man home, never wanted him to touch her, never wanted to have him caress her bare skin. Until now.
What was she doing? She had never kissed a man, not like this. Nothing that released the wanton passion buried deep inside her. What if she got caught?
She sighed against him, and her hands moved under his shirt and down his back, his muscles rippling beneath her fingers. His naked skin excited her, and she liked caressing him, feeling his heat beneath her hands. William stirred passions she’d never known existed. His kiss deepened, his touch took her to exotic places and set her blood on fire.
He released her, and she couldn’t breathe. Strong hands massaged her shoulders, and he pushed her onto her bed, forcing her to sit. “Mariah,” he whispered. “I can’t let you follow us.”
She tilted her chin. “If you do not, I will board another ship and follow you.”
He dropped his hands. “Palmer will find you.”
“Oui, he will. I shall be prepared to deal with him.”
William ran his hand through his hair. “No, you won’t. Palmer’s a devil. You have no idea what he’ll do to you.”
“He is torturing my brother. After Grand-mère and Grand-père, Lark is the only family I have left. I will not let him die. Not if I can help him. I am powerful, William. You will have to trust me.” She edged away from him. “If you do not mind, I need to pack.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “There’s nothing I can do or say to change your mind?”
“No, there is not.”
“Fine.” He glowered. “Then, I shan’t let you out of my sight. Pack.”
She avoided his angry prison guard stare and grabbed her velvet bag off the floor. She glanced around her room then focused on the three porcelain dolls sitting on her top shelf. Once she left this room, she would be facing a demon without Grand-mère, without her brother. Alone.
She grabbed the black-haired porcelain doll, stroking the soft hair and inhaling the lavender scent before she placed it in the bag.
“Why the doll?”
Mariah cleared her throat. “My parents made me it.”
“And?”
“My father carved it into my mother’s image, and she has my mother’s real hair. I just want to bring it. Do you have a problem with this, monsieur?”
He clasped her chin. “No, I don’t. How old were you when your mother died?”
“Twelve.”
“I was ten when I lost mine.” His voice was hushed and pained.
He obviously had loved his mother as much as she’d loved hers, and her anger toward him melted. He leaned closer, and his warm breath brushed over her face. He kissed her. Closing her eyes, she leaned into him again, feeling his strength. His kiss deepened, and strong arms wrapped around her. She clutched him tighter, wanting him to believe that she was strong enough to face Zuto, needing him to believe in her before her self-doubt crushed her.
“William, we’ve got to be moving. Now.”
Kane’s impatient voice broke the tender moment.
William released her. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and Mariah stepped away, hiding behind William’s tall frame.
“She’s still packing.”
“Then have her pack. Now.”
She rushed to her dresser and quickly packed her bag, making sure the doll was always on top. She grabbed her leather journal and her oak wand.
“What is that?”
“A wand. Oui, my father made it for me.”
He smirked. “You think a wand is going to stop Zuto?”
How could she be attracted to him one minute and the next want to dump a bucket of water over his skeptical head? She put her hands-on hips. “Wands are powerful. Mandrake is inside the wand, and it will enhance any spell I use. The amethyst quartz at the tip heightens the energy in the ritual.”
He folded his arms across his chest and cocked his eyebrow.
She wanted to grab her wand and turn him into a bullfrog, but she wasn’t that powerful. Rash emotions led to evil incantations, and she couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. She took a cleansing breath to wash away the frustration pooling inside her and walked back to the dresser to grab her silver chalice and matching silver athame.
“Why the dagger?”
“’Tis an athame. Not a dagger. I need it for my spells.” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but he was baiting her.
He shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. Her rope of patience was sizzling, and her anger threatened to burst through. She seized the black, leather, spell book off her top shelf and shoved it into her bag. William lifted his eyebrow, and she stomped over to her shelf to snag her silver bell. She wanted to ring it in front of his ear to drive him mad like he was driving her insane. She snatched her altar pentacle and hurried to her bag. Having had enough of his smirking, she headed for the hallway. “Coming?”
William blocked her. “You’re a fool if you think those talismans can fight against the dark forces of the underworld.”
She swallowed hard and met his hard stare. “William, I have lost both of my parents, my Grand-mère is dying, and my brother is in danger of becoming a warlock, someone who I might be forced to destroy.” Her voice choked. “I know what I am up against. Do you?”
“Aye, I do.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hallway. “A stubborn witch determined to march to her own death.”
She glanced into Lark’s room and pushed on William’s hand. “Stop. Wait.”
William grumbled, “Jaaysus.”
But he released her. Mariah rushed into Lark’s room and grabbed his wand and his spell book. She placed both items in the bag.
William leaned against the
door. “More foolishness.”
Mariah hardened her face, hiding the hurt brewing inside her and marched past him, refusing to defend her craft.
In the hallway, Grand-mère gripped her cane. “You are right, ma petite. Lark’s going to need his wand and spell book. ’Twas fate that he did not have his wand on him when he was taken, or Natasa would have contaminated it and used it to control him. I have something else you need.” She coughed hard. When she stopped, she stuck her hand inside her dress and pulled out a chain with a white quartz shaped into a heart.
Grand-père came up behind her, clasping her quaking shoulders. “Rest, Morgana. You need to sit down.”
“I am well, you old fool. Let me be.” She waved her hand. Grand-père stepped back. Dread filled his eyes. Mariah knew death was seeking Grand-mère. She had to hurry. Despite Grand-mère’s insistence she could do this on her own, Mariah knew in her soul that before this mess was ended, she would need Grand-mère.
Weariness flared in Grand-mère’s tired eyes. “I shall rest when this is done.”
Mariah prayed she meant she would rest in a chair after they left and not dying.
“Now take this necklace. This represents Lark’s heart. It will remain white, but as he slowly turns, the color of the quartz will change.”
Mariah examined it closely, rubbing her thumb over the smooth stone, and frowned.
Grand-mère looked between her and the stone. “Oui. It isn’t white. The color is darker, not pure.”
Mariah frowned. “What happens—”
“When it turns black, you will know he has turned, and it will take all your strength and love to change him back to the brother you remember. Hurry, cheriè. Time is now your enemy.”
Mariah looped the necklace around her neck, and the smooth stone lay between her breasts.
Grand-père held up his palm. “Wait. You will need to be armed.”
William lifted one eyebrow as if he doubted what he heard. “Armed?”
“Magic is not the only talent she has. She’s a deadly shot. I taught her myself.” He disappeared and returned with a bag. “Packed it myself. It has shot and powder. You be careful, chérie.”
Mariah nodded. “Je promets.”
Grand-mère hacked again. Her eyes dulled, and her lips pinched tight. Mariah didn’t know if she should leave since Grand-père depended on her to help care for his wife.
“Don’t worry about me, chérie. I shall not perish until I see Lark again.”
Mariah hoped she was not lying, just to convince her to leave.
“Listen to me, mon chou. You must give Lark his wand and spell book when the sun hides behind the moon.” Grand-mère’s eyes were tight and her voice was tired.
Mariah frowned. “But what if—”
“Silence! Together, you and the dragon must combine powers with Lark to defeat the demon.”
William aimed his frosty stare at Grand-mère. “Her? What of Zuto?”
But unlike Mariah, Grand-mère’s seemed unaffected by his intimidating glare. She laughed, but her laugh was short lived as a coughing spasm gripped her. Grand-père rushed to her and patted her back. “Morgana.”
Grand-mère shook her head. “I am well,” she whispered, her eyes watering. “Zuto’s part shall surprise you.”
William gritted his teeth, “Surprise me how?”
“You will have to trust him, garçon. Or Natasa wins.” Morgana’s drained voice left William with a belly of fear.
Chapter 6
William walked alongside Mariah, trying to ignore her lavender scent that teased his nose. Solstice herded them, running up with the others and then back. Why had Kane allowed the dog to accompany them, he couldn’t fathom. She was Mariah’s familiar. More magic. Magic he didn’t trust.
After she almost fell in the river, he insisted on carrying her bag. More than once he thought about tying her to a tree. But he wouldn’t go against his brother’s orders. Kane wanted her aboard the Phoenix, regardless of the looming danger.
The trees thinned, and Tortuga’s tall buildings loomed ahead. He caressed the hilt of his sword, ready to unleash it if angry townspeople ambushed him. Men repaired the broken window at the Green Parrot Inn; the hammering banged on his tense nerves. Women bustled along the busy street, and some stared at him curiously.
Men stopped talking and tilted their hats at Mariah. Some even gave her appreciative gazes. He pushed back the urge to slit their throats. Why was he acting this way? Were the people agitating the dragon? For the unsuspecting townspeople, ’twas dangerous, way too dangerous.
Kane, Ronan, and Doc quickened their pace, but Mariah lagged behind. Had reasoning finally hit her and she regretted her decision? He was about to ask when a woman with graying hair pulled high into a bun stepped out of a shop. She shoved a pair of scissors into her apron and spread her arms wide. “Mariah, dearie.”
“Lydia.” Mariah smiled.
The two women hugged.
Solstice wagged her white tail.
Lydia held Mariah’s arms and rubbed them with her palms. “How is your Grand-mère feeling? The last time I saw her, she was a little peaked.”
Mariah gave her a small smile. “She is still not feeling well, but I am sure she shall get better.”
“I’m sorry.” She tilted her head and arched her eyebrow. “Hello, Solstice.” The woman rubbed the dog’s head. “And, who’s this?”
“Lydia, this is William O’Brien.” Mariah gestured toward the woman. “William, Lydia is one of Grand-mère’s oldest and dearest friends.”
William bowed his head in greeting.
“Mmm, a stranger, eh?” She led Mariah a few feet away and spoke to her in a hushed voice. Normally, William would not be able to hear, but oddly, he heard every word. Another of the dragon’s abilities?
“You need to be wary, my dear. Yesterday, a dragon attacked us. Ate poor McGovern’s horse. The man’s still in shock. Something right out of Armageddon. Flew right out of the Green Parrot’s Inn.” She clicked her tongue. “No one saw the thing downstairs.” She tilted her head toward the dock. “I think it has something to do with that dreadful ship, the Soaring Phoenix. Every time she drops anchor, strange things happen. People get sick.” She clicked her tongue. “And now a dragon.”
Mariah glanced at William, trying to hide a smile. She was enjoying this.
“How dreadful.” Mariah put her hand on her chest. “Where did the dragon go?”
Solstice walked around William as if to say, “Here he is.” William pushed Solstice away. Damn familiar!
Lydia pointed west. “To the mountains.” She gripped Mariah’s shoulder. “You and your family be careful, dearie. ’Tis up there lurking, waiting.” She raised a closed fist toward the mountain as if challenging the dragon. “But next time, we’ll be ready. The militia’s armed.” She lowered her fist. “Don’t you worry. We shall kill the beast.” Her voice was irritatingly cheery.
William’s shirt stuck to his sweaty back, and he ran his hand through his hair. He was about to be a dead dragon. His head mounted over a fireplace. “Mariah.” He clasped her arm and moved her closer. “We need to get to the ship.”
Lydia looked between William and Mariah. “What ship?”
“The Soaring Phoenix.” He dragged Mariah away, leaving Lydia with a gaping mouth.
Mariah patted his hand. “William, you must forgive Lydia. She didn’t mean any harm. Since she’s aged, she speaks her mind and doesn’t realize she is offending people.”
He bit back a retort. Solstice ran around them again as if to slow William down, but he ignored the furry animal.
“You knew I could hear what she was saying?”
“Dragons do have superior hearing.”
“Were you enjoying yourself, lass?”
She rubbed her arm. “Lydia happens to be a good friend.”
“She’s a meddling fool,” he muttered. “Ready to have my head blown off.”
She covered her mouth, trying to hide a smirk. “
You are afraid of Lydia, oui?”
He narrowed his eyes. “No. Just her ability to summon the militia. I don’t relish having their weapons fired at me. When I’m a dragon, I can’t control it. Can you imagine what an angry dragon would do to this town? Now, let’s get to the ship.”
“Je suis désolé.”
He flinched as she cupped his cheek.
“Truly sorry.” Her hand trailed down his arm, sending chills tingling through him. “I sense the dragon is asleep, so we have time.”
He sighed, wishing she would touch him one more time. “Time? Time for what?”
“Time for me to teach you how to control your powers.” She tilted her head and smiled. “Trust me.”
He shook his head. “You’re daft.”
Solstice growled.
She braced her shoulders and marched down the street toward the harbor. “Come on, Solstice.”
He stared at her stiff back as she flounced down the street, fists clenched. Beautiful, but foolish. Very foolish.
“Mariah.” He hurried beside her. “Do you even know where you’re going?”
She pointed straight ahead. “To the docks.”
William walked alongside her, surprised at how fast she could move, being a foot smaller than him. He wanted to say something, but didn’t know what.
As they neared the docks, the ocean breeze grew stronger, along with the smell of fish. Mariah slowed as they rounded the last building. She studied each of the ships, obviously looking for the Phoenix. Several ships—frigates, schooner, ketches—were anchored in the harbor, but he stared at the Soaring Phoenix. She stood tall and proud. A square-rigged frigate, she carried forty-guns and had a keel length of ninety feet. She could out sail any ship in the harbor.
“She’s the frigate next to the schooner.”
She blinked. “Reading my mind?”
He tossed his head back and laughed. “No, lassie, not hardly.”
Her frown disappeared, replaced by a lovely smile. He couldn’t help running the back of his palm down her soft cheek. “You were frowning and gazing straight ahead. I presumed you were looking for the Soaring Phoenix. I thought you’d like to see which ship was leading you into danger.”
