by Guida, ML
“Cook,” he growled. The aroma of boiling chicken and potatoes filled the air. His mouth watered. Hunger monopolized him, a hunger he’d never experienced before, but he didn’t know if it was for food or Mariah.
Cook was cutting potatoes. “What are you done hollerin’ about?”
“I need meat. I need to eat now.”
“Keep your breeches on, boy. I’m makin’ supper. You’ll have to wait.”
“No, I won’t.” He elbowed him out of the way. Boiled chicken and potatoes were piled on a platter. Without asking for permission, he seized the cooked food and headed for a table. “What are you doin’, lad? ’Tis enough to feed ten men.”
“Make more.” He plopped down on a nearby bench and set the platter in front of him.
Cook reached to take the platter away.
William grabbed his wrist. “I said to make more.” He released a low growl.
Cook jerked his wrist away and mumbled something about blasted dragons under his breath and returned to slicing up a chicken.
Mariah marched into the galley with Ronan trailing behind. She put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing, Monsieur?”
William tore off a piece of chicken with his teeth, wanting to push her away, but the meat paled to the taste of her smooth honey skin and silky mouth. He didn’t want the damn chicken. He wanted her. Naked beneath him as he plunged his cock inside her.
“Mate with her now.”
Ronan curled his lips. “You’re eatin’ like a starvin’ pig, O’Brien. What’s gotten into you?”
“A bloody dragon,” William said, between gulps.
“You’re a bastard.” Ronan tilted his head. “Taking her by force.”
William swallowed a mouthful of chicken, trying to stuff more and more meat inside him to satisfy the dragon’s hunger, but he failed miserably.
He glared. “Will you two leave me alone?”
Ronan wrapped his arm around Mariah’s waist. Drakon roared inside him. William clutched the table with his shaking hands to keep from leaping over and ripping out Ronan’s throat.
Mariah folded her arms across her heaving chest. “No, Ronan.”
Ronan flicked his hand at William. “Look at him, Mariah. He’s an animal.” He tried to move her.
But Mariah slipped out of his grasp.
Ronan frowned and grabbed her, dragging her away.
Mariah slapped at his hand. “Release me.”
William’s resolve broke. He darted over the table.
Ronan shoved Mariah behind him. Determination glinted in his eyes, and his lips turned into a surly scowl. “Stay away from her, ye overgrown lizard.”
William slammed his fist into Ronan’s jaw, and Ronan staggered, but quickly righted himself. He punched William in the gut, a blow that would have doubled over a mortal man. But William wasn’t a man, he wielded the strength of a dragon—an angry dragon bent on crushing a rival.
“She’s mine, vampire.” William’s loud voice didn’t even sound like his.
The two men circled each other. Beads of sweat glistened on Ronan’s forehead, and he glanced at Mariah. She looked between the two of them and shook her head. Ronan winked at her and smiled. William gnashed his teeth. He would be the victor.
He grabbed Ronan’s hair, yanked him down, and rammed his knee into his face over and over. Ronan beat his thighs with his fists, but William ignored his punches.
’Twas as if a little boy was hitting him. Blood splattered onto the floor and onto William’s hands and trousers. He didn’t care.
Black dots glazed across his eyes. Rage blinded him. He tossed Ronan back, and slammed him into a wall. He lowered his head and butted Ronan’s stomach, pinning him against the wall. He wanted him dead, dead, dead.
“No! Cook, we have to do something.” Mariah’s hysterical voice failed to pierce the strength flowing through William.
Cook lugged a bucket of sloshing water. “You two bulls stop.” He drenched them in the water. “Take it topside.”
Mariah grabbed William’s arm. “Stop, please. You’re killing him.”
Her heart-filled words penetrated William’s rage, and he let go. Ronan slipped down the wall into a bloody, unmoving lump.
William panted. “I…didn’t kill…him. He’s immortal, but his wounds won’t heal until the full moon. Cook, get Doc.”
Mariah knelt next to Ronan’s buckled body. “Ronan, Ronan, can you hear me?” Her desperate voice tore William’s heart.
He grimaced as she wiped Ronan’s face with the folds of her dress, smearing red onto her blue.
Ronan answered with a gurgle.
William stretched out his fingers and turned over his trembling hands, afraid they’d turn into a dragon’s talons. “What have I done?”
Doc, Kane, and Sean rushed into the galley.
“My God,” Sean mumbled.
Doc rushed over to Mariah. “Y’er covered with blood. Are ye hurt, lass?”
“No.” But her voice shook.
“Cook,” Doc ordered. “Get me some fresh water an’ cloth. His cheek’s split open, an’ his eyes are swollen shut. Nose’s broken. He’s about to pass out.”
“Sean, get my bag.” Doc examined Ronan. “’Tis in my trunk next to my hammock.”
Shaking his head and grumbling underneath his breath, Sean exited the galley without word.
“William, what have you done?” Kane grabbed William’s arm. “What happened?”
He couldn’t stop trembling. What had he done? He was a monster, a menace. “Lock me up, Kane. I’m losing control.”
“Ronan tried to usher me away.” Mariah’s face turned pale. “William and I—”
Kane glowered. “You and William...what?”
“Kane.” William broke free of his gasp. He ran his quivering hand through his hair. “Don’t blame her. ’Tis me, not her.”
Kane shoved William’s shoulder. “What the devil’s gotten into you? ’Tis the second time you’ve tried to kill him.”
He slumped. “I told you to lock me up. I’m not safe.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Kane warned. “What’s this?” He pointed to a pile of discarded chicken bones.
“I was trying to fill my hunger.”
“Why?”
“Because Drakon said if I ate as much as a dragon, food would calm his anger.”
“Apparently ’tis not enough,” Kane snorted.
William watched Mariah gently wipe the blood from Ronan’s disfigured and swollen face. Cook brought Doc a bowl of water and a rag, and Sean returned with Doc’s bag. Doc readied the needle.
Pain throbbed in the back of William’s throat. “I’m sorry, Kane. I never meant to hurt Ronan. I don’t know what has come over me. If he hadn’t been a vampire and immortal...”
Hannah walked into the galley and stopped. Her eyes enlarged, and she put her hand over her mouth. “My word––Ronan.”
“I know what’s driving you mad. The same thing that almost tore us apart.” Kane’s accusing voice made William’s gut hurt.
William swallowed back his guilt. Not so long ago, he had been in Ronan’s place. Kane had smashed his fist into William’s eye for lavishing attention on Hannah, but Kane hadn’t beaten him to a bloody mess. William considered Kane the monster and himself the gentleman. Now, he was worse than any vampire.
Doc dipped a needle into water and stitched Ronan’s bloodied cheek. Ronan groaned and leaned his head against the wall. William couldn’t tell if he had passed out since the poor man couldn’t open his eyes.
Hannah frowned. “William, your hands.”
“The dragon...I...lost control,” he stammered.
“Aye, you keep saying that,” Kane grumbled. “Mariah?”
Mariah squeezed the bloodied rag into the bowl of water. “Oui, Capitaine?”
“Do I need to lock my brother up before he kills one of my crewmen?”
She stared hard at him and William. William squirmed under her condemning gaze. She wiped her sta
ined hands on her dress and stood. “No, Capitaine. That will not be necessary. I know the dragon’s second hunger.”
Frowning, Kane glanced between Mariah and William. “Second hunger?”
William winced at the wariness in his voice and the accusation in his eyes.
She held out her hand. “Come, William.”
William swallowed. Shite, did she suspect? “I can’t be alone with her.” William stared at her hand, too afraid to touch her, too afraid of losing control, too afraid in giving into the dragon. “’Tis not safe.”
Kane shoved William toward Mariah. “’Tis her or the brig.”
William lowered his head. “I’ll take the brig.”
* * *
William sat on the bench in the brig. He rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his palms. Kane had allowed him to wash Ronan’s blood off before locking him inside. He knew it killed his brother to treat him like a prisoner, but he was no longer the brother Kane knew.
He sighed and detected the scent of lavender and groaned. Mariah. Kane had foolishly not left a guard.
She had changed her bloodied clothes and now wore a white gown with a full skirt. A richly laced collar sloped down over her slender shoulders, and a bodice with gold laces drew attention to her ample bosom. She was an angel with her dark hair cascading down her back.
She carried a knapsack, but he didn’t care what was inside. His heart beating wildly, he leaned against the wall and stared at the wooden ceiling, forcing himself not to look at her, trying to fight the lust threatening to explode inside him. “Go away, Mariah.”
“We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.”
Her skirts rustled, and he stole a glance. She grabbed the key hanging on the wall.
“Mariah, don’t.”
“I know the dragon’s hunger.”
Her soft tone choked him, and he gasped for air. “I need more meat. Kane had Cook fix me a snack.” He fumbled getting the words out.
“Oui, I know. Enough salted fish for an army.” She studied him and slipped the key inside the lock. “Full?”
“Aye,” he lied.
“I can see the hunger in your eyes, William. I am a witch.” She lowered her voice, almost a caress. “I see what the others do not.”
“Mariah, I don’t know...”
She opened the door, stepped inside, and shut the door behind her. His words stuck in his throat. She knelt on the floor, opened her knapsack, and pulled out four candles and ceramic dishes and herbs. “William, you have to believe in your ability. There are forces of white and black magic here, and you need to understand how they work.”
He tried to concentrate, but her feminine scent distracted him, drawing attention to her luscious body.
She lit the candles and motioned for him to sit on the floor. “S`il vous plaît.”
He grew hot and feverish, and he struggled to breathe. His clothes were stifling. He was not sure if he could maintain behaving like a gentleman. Hell, what was he thinking? He’d been a pirate for the past couple of years. He’d never raped a woman. Never wanted to.
Until now.
He gritted his teeth. “Mariah, you need to get out of here. Before ’tis too late. I’m begging you.”
Mariah gave him a demure smile. “Please sit. I promise I will not touch you.”
“But I can’t make the same promise.”
“I am not afraid.”
“You should be.” He sat on the floor trembling with desire, careful to stay within arm’s length.
“Bon.” Mariah set the candles around them in the four directions of north, south, east, and west. The sweet smells of jasmine and lavender filled the damp air, along with some other scents he couldn’t name. “Everything runs through energy, the sky, earth, your body. Magic is another way that channels energy. Witches and magical creatures like dragons can tap into this source.”
“Meaning?”
Mariah touched the center of her forehead. “This is where your third eye is located.”
“Hidden eye?”
“Oui, it allows you to see magic if you draw on it.” She placed both hands over her heart.
“Your heart is another source of energy, as are your palms and groin.”
Groin. His energy was there all right, but not the kind she was talking about.
“Dragons don’t have a third eye. We don’t cast spells. We are magical beings.”
Battling the thundering passion building inside him, William was too tired to argue with Drakon and stared at the flickering candles.
“Breathe,” she said.
William tried, but he barely sucked in any air. His nerves were wound tighter than a halyard hoisting a sail.
“Magic is generated through will, expectation, imagination, and perception. All components must be used to channel your dragon magic. First, you must will something to happen and believe. There can be no doubt.”
“How can my willing something make it happen?”
“Let me explain. Magic dwells in the elementary world. This world is in another realm. The only way to access this magic is through the astral sphere.” She lifted her hand toward the ceiling. “This sphere contains stars, planets, space—everything outside our Earth. In order for you to access this magic, you must think of an image. You will call upon the elementary universe, and it will send the magic to the astral stars and finally down to you. You are part of the physical earth, and through you, the magic will take form. We are going to practice you conjuring an image in your mind. The image will transform in the astral heavens, and your belief will allow it to manifest here.”
“She’s talking about a witch’s magic. Ours is different.”
William’s throat and mouth went completely dry. “You don’t have any ale in that bag, do you?”
She frowned. “No, why?”
“I need a drink. All of this talk of other worlds does not make sense to me. ’Tis not logical.”
“So drinking from a lake and being turned into a vampire or being cursed by a demon and changed into a shape-shifter is logical, oui?”
He clamped his jaw tight and refused to break a smile at her teasing. He wanted her angry, angry enough to turn her back on him and leave. She had locked herself in the chamber with him, thinking him harmless. His lips ached to taste hers, to lick her skin, to kiss and suck her between her thighs. Jaaysus, he was a leech.
She sighed. “I know ’tis hard for you to believe. ’Tis difficult for anyone who is not a witch. You must know how magic works so you can wield it. If you do not learn how to wield your own magic, you will leave yourself open for someone else to control it.”
“You mean Natasa or Zuto.”
“Oui. There are five components of magic—will, timing, imagery, direction, and balance.”
“And if I do not learn how to use all five components?”
“The magic spell fails.”
“I won’t use magic.”
“You can’t wield a witch’s magic, because you are not a witch. You’ve dragon magic.” She frowned. “William, you are not listening, oui? Natasa and Zuto both know how to use these components. Do you think ’tis by accident Zuto had Lark curse you into a dragon?”
“Drakon says that his magic is different than yours.”
“Indeed?”
William’s mind swirled with uncertainty. Zuto was a cunning demon, not one to underestimate. So, who was telling the truth—Mariah or Drakon? Was this Zuto’s plan—to pit these two against each other? Uneasiness swelled in his hard gut.
“So, is Drakon right?”
Her brows furrowed. “I do not know. Grand-mère was more learned in dragon lore.”
Grand-mère had bragged about her abilities. Why wouldn’t she share her knowledge about magical creatures?
Ignoring a throbbing headache forming at back of his skull, he tried to focus. “So, tell me how your components work.”
“I have to create an image in my mind first and pick the time to use it
. I have to chose which direction to send the magic.”
“You mean like north, south, east, and west?”
“Oui. Dragons are based on elements. Earth. Air. Wind. Fire.”
William almost relayed what Drakon had revealed, but he was reluctant. He needed time to sort out all this magic lore. “And?”
“Most important,” Mariah said, “you must learn balance. When to use your magic and when to refrain.”
“Balance is for witches. I come from a long lineage of powerful dragons. My ancestors possessed all four elements. ’Tis why Maketabori wanted me as his slave.”
William rubbed his chin. This was too overwhelming.
Mariah clasped his hand. “Are you well?”
He met her worried gaze. “Aye. So, tell me why witches need balance?”
She smiled. “Have you seen Hannah use her powers?”
He frowned. “Aye, why? She’s not a witch. Her powers come from a gypsy queen. According to Hannah, her ancestor had the ability to move objects, but they do not cast spells.”
“Was she not tired after, no?”
“She always seems to get a bloody nose.”
“’Tis because magic is draining. You do not want to use it if you know you are about to be captured unless you know the spell will work or you have an escape route.”
“She does not know anything about dragons. We do not tire from spells.”
“So, what about all this hocus pocus witchcraft?”
She braced her shoulders and glared. “’Tis not hocus-pocus. I want you to conjure up some dragon magic.”
“Exactly how am I going to do this?”
“Many dragons can make themselves invisible.”
“Invisible? You are kidding?”
“No, I am not.” She leaned over and patted his knee.
William bit back a groan. His groin tightened, and he fought to keep from grabbing her hand, tossing her onto the floor, and having his way with her.
“You are listening, oui?” She squeezed his knee.
“Aye.” His voice was harsher than he intended.
She jerked her hand away, and he was able to push back his physical need. ’Twas becoming harder and harder. She had to get out of the brig before ’twas too late.
