by Kate Hill
“I know what the Hide Marshers are capable of. They wiped out my crew and took my eye.” Andre growled. “Don’t talk to me about which tribe is more dangerous!”
Crispin met his gaze with a coldness that would have made a lesser man shiver, but Andre wasn’t intimidated. Still, he was curious and listened as Crispin said, “After my ship ran aground on Anna’s Wood Island there were few survivors. I took two members of my crew and searched for provisions while repairs were made. The Opal Criers overpowered us like wolves on vampires. They bound us in a cave and beat us with silver-tipped scourges. When they got bored with that, they decided to hack us apart piece by piece. Both my men were killed in that way. Those bastards took all my fingers on my left hand before, quite by chance, I managed to escape when they were distracted by an attack from the Hide Marshers. Don’t talk to me about danger, Andre.”
For a long moment the men stared at each other. Finally Andre said, “So both tribes are dangerous.”
“And according to the map, the jewel we’re looking for is hidden in a cave in the forest located in the center of the island.”
“And that forest is usually crawling with hunters from both tribes,” Crispin added.
“Even if we took all seventy-two members of our crew, they’d have us outnumbered and overpowered,” Andre said. “We’ll never make it.”
“Are you always so optimistic?” Crispin asked. “Besides, an army would draw too much attention. When we go, it should be just us getting in and out of there as quickly as possible.”
“I agree,” Chantel said.
Survival instinct rose in Andre, yet he had to accept the plan. Stealth was their greatest chance of success -- and survival.
* * *
The following morning, Chantel was washing in a basin of water while Crispin, who had been awake for hours, sat at the desk, pouring over the map. He held the key in his good hand, caressing it with his fingers, an expression of deep concentration on his face.
“Thinking about our risky plan?” she asked.
He blinked, as if noticing her for the first time, then shook his head slightly. “You’re a smart woman, Chantel.”
“Of course, but what makes you say that?”
“You chose us because we’re wolves. You knew other vampires would be useless to you for this journey. You need us because our wolf strength is the only thing that can compete with most of the creatures inhabiting these islands. Without us, a vampire like you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“But I have you.” She grinned, wiping her face with a towel which she flung aside before stepping behind Crispin and looping her arms around his neck. “And don’t think because I’m willing to use your talents to find the treasure that I don’t care about you. The truth is, I’m starting to like you boys.”
“Uh huh,” he said, his tone disbelieving.
“So if you weren’t thinking about the plan, what was on your mind? You looked… well, you didn’t look too happy.”
“I was thinking about how my father let that fucking treasure destroy our clan. He was the leader and should have been thinking about defense. Instead he was obsessed with Morall’s Treasure. Our clan was an easy target.”
“Wait, he was a clan leader and a pirate?”
“We come from a long line of pirates. Our clan lived on my island until we were destroyed by rivals, also pirates. Almost everyone was killed. Women. Young children. A few of us who were old enough to work but young enough to mold were taken into slavery. Or at least they thought we were young enough to mold. I never lost my hatred of them or my desire for revenge.”
“How old were you?”
“Seven.” His voice dripped with bitterness.
“How did you get away?”
“Three years later, I fought my way out, stole a rowboat and went to sea in the middle of the night.”
“A rowboat at sea? You were lucky you didn’t get killed.”
“I was picked up by another ship. Pirate ship, of course. Nothing else sails in those waters. That’s how I honed my craft.”
“Wait, you said your clan lived on your island. How is that possible if it was taken over?”
“When I got my own ship and a strong enough crew, I returned and took back my island.”
“Revenge,” she murmured close to his ear. Her hands absently stroked his chest. This conversation told her much about how Crispin thought and his reasons for many things, such as taking in Jolie. He had done for her what that captain had done for him. “What kind of revenge?”
“Killed all their warriors, just as they did to my clan.”
“The women and children?”
“Gave them the option of staying and joining me.”
“Or?”
“Or?” he sneered. “What do you think?”
She remained silent, her arms still around him. The bitterness and fury rolled off him in almost tangible waves, even though it had been decades since his clan had been destroyed.
“It was a better choice than they gave my people,” he added. “And why do you seem surprised? You’re a killer and a thief just like me.”
“No. Not like you,” she murmured.
He broke her hold on his neck and pushed her hands away.
“You’ve had more than your share of pain in life, Cris.”
He curled his lip and glared at her. “It’s been my own doing, or at least most of it has. But truly, Fire Eyes, I don’t care. I stopped feeling pain a long time ago.”
Sighing, she shook her head. “That’s not true.”
“How would you know? Because we fucked a few times? Why is it that once a woman shares a man’s bed, she thinks she knows everything about him?”
“In bed, men give away more about themselves than they can ever imagine or want to believe.”
This seemed to catch his interest and he stood, his gaze locked on hers. His arms slipped around her, his palms cupping her bottom as he lowered his head and spoke against her lips. “Such as?”
Before she could reply, the ship jolted slightly. They gazed topside.
“We’ve dropped anchor,” Chantel said, trying to pull away from him so she could investigate.
He kissed her quickly and said, “We’ll finish this conversation later.”
Chantel winked at him and brushed her thumb gently over his lips. “Says you.”
She slipped from his arms and headed up to the deck, Crispin close behind her. Topside, several crewmen stared over the rail at two whales swimming nearby.
“What’s going on?” Chantel demanded. “Why did we drop the anchor?”
“Look at that!” Andre bellowed from where he clung to the main mast with both legs and one arm. He pointed toward the whales.
“You’d think he’s never seen whales before,” Crispin muttered.
“Woohoo!” Andre shouted and leapt onto the deck, the muscles in his legs flexing as he landed in a squat then straightened and quickly tore off his clothes.
Chantel gazed appreciatively at his nude body. The way his muscles rippled beneath his skin made her heart pound. She imagined licking and kissing every inch of him. Seconds later, he dove into the water.
“Is he mad?” Crispin wrinkled his nose, strode to the rail and stared over it. Chantel joined him and they watched Andre swim through the waves, his strokes powerful. He dove beneath and approached the whales and again Crispin muttered, “Insane.”
“But beautiful,” Chantel said, unable to tear her gaze from Andre.
Crispin grunted but didn’t argue.
Part of her agreed that Andre must be a bit crazy to be swimming naked with whales. After several moments, she grew concerned. Even a creature as rugged and powerful as a wolf could be seriously injured by the whales.
Andre broke the surface gasping and swam closer to the ship. Beldon tossed a rope over the side and Andre climbed up. When he reached the deck, there was a look of wild pleasure in his eye. Chantel couldn’t help ogling his gorgeous, water-slicked body.
He laugh
ed and reached for his discarded clothes.
“You’d better dry off below,” Chantel said, unable to resist smiling, too.
“Should have joined me,” Andre said.
“I’d rather have the rest of my fingers cut off,” Crispin scoffed. “Swimming with whales. Ridiculous.”
“That’s power,” Andre said. “Those creatures. Swimming with them gives you a feeling of incomparable freedom.”
Chantel watched until he disappeared below deck. One thing was certain, between Andre and Crispin, there was never a boring moment.
* * *
To avoid crossing paths with the Opal Criers and Hide Marshers, they dropped anchor by the cliff on the island’s western shoreline. Chantel, Crispin, and Andre climbed it and paused for a moment at the top. Andre’s heart pounded and not simply from scaling the cliff. To a wolf in his prime condition, the climb was practically nothing. Though he hated to admit it, the island itself -- or rather its inhabitants -- caused this disgraceful fear.
He growled, covering his insecurity with gruffness. “Let’s get on with this.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Crispin said. “Remember, keep alert. Our senses are much sharper than those of the Opal Criers and the Hide Marshers. We need to avoid them because the chances of besting them in an out-and-out fight are --”
“Nil,” Andre said flatly.
Crispin raised his eyes to the heavens. “Always the optimist.”
They headed toward the forest a short distance away and followed the map as closely as possible. It was a dark, twisted forest and especially difficult for Chantel. Even the roughest vampire couldn’t compare to the wild nature of a wolf. Andre and Crispin were far more at home in the wilderness. In their beast form, they easily maneuvered through the worst terrain and helped clear the way for Chantel. She traveled without complaint and kept an admirable pace.
Andre had to admit she wasn’t a typical vampire and was an intriguing woman. The sight of her striding through the woods, sometimes using a machete to cut her way through dense vegetation, aroused him so much that he could have thrown her down and fucked her on the forest floor. How could he possibly be lusting after her while walking through the territory of his worst enemies? Any moment Hide Marshers could leap out and feast on their flesh. With their thick hide and oversized muscles, they were almost impossible to overpower.
Halfway to their destination, they hadn’t so much as caught the scent of the Opal Criers or Hide Marshers nearby. Andre was almost beginning to believe they’d avoid any serious problems.
He glanced over Chantel’s shoulder as she paused a moment to read the map.
“It’s not much farther,” she said.
“Good. The sooner we get off this island the better.”
Chantel snorted. “When we get back to the ship, I’m having a nice long swim. I hate the forest. Sweaty. Dirty. Bugs flying up your nose.”
Grinning, Andre said, “Somehow I thought a woman in your profession would enjoy the outdoors.”
“I love the outdoors as long as I’m on the ocean. There’s nothing like the ocean.”
“I can’t argue with that.” Andre had always loved the ocean. At the worst times in his life it had been an escape, and all his best memories were on the sea.
Chantel met his gaze, her eyes seeming to melt his soul. A lock of hair had fallen over her face, and he gently brushed it away then leaned closer to sneak a kiss. She stood on tiptoe to reach him better.
“Get your tongue out of her mouth, Andre! I’ve got problems,” Crispin said. The tone of his voice rather than his sharp words nabbed their attention.
Andre glanced around, but there was no sign of Crispin.
“Down here, fool!” Crispin snapped from where he was buried chest deep in --
“Quicksand!” Chantel cried, unwinding the length of rope hooked on her belt. She tossed it to Crispin and when he reached for it, sank deeper. He had only one arm free. Unfortunately it was his hand with the faux claws. Already the jagged claws were cutting through the rope.
Chantel’s eyes gleamed with panic, though Andre credited her with remaining calm.
“Don’t move,” Andre ordered. “You’ll sink faster.” He glanced around for a branch that might be long enough to reach Crispin but in seconds it would no longer matter.
“Andre, the rope isn’t going to hold,” Chantel said.
A rather thick tree branch hung over the quicksand. If Andre climbed out on it, he could most likely reach Crispin. He took a running leap across the quicksand. His claws sank into the branch and he pulled himself to a safe position, crawled out, and hung by his legs.
“Can you hold up your hand?” Andre asked.
“It won’t work,” Crispin said. “That branch won’t hold us both. Forget about me.”
“Stop being a fool and do what I tell you!”
“I said leave me!”
“Hold up your fucking hand, Cris!” Chantel snarled, her eyes gleaming and fangs bared. The muscles in her arms tightened as she struggled to hold his weight against the pull of the sand. Abruptly the rope snapped and she fell over backward.
Without further hesitation, Andre grabbed two handfuls of Crispin’s long hair and pulled.
“My fucking neck!” Crispin growled. If he had been a man instead of a wolf, Andre didn’t doubt he’d have pulled his head off. Andre raised him enough that he could lift his hand.
The branch creaked and Andre’s heart pounded. Maybe Crispin had been right about their weight being too much. Andre grasped Crispin’s arm and, with a final hard pull, hauled him far enough to grasp the branch.
They climbed to the tree trunk, leapt to another tree, and finally reached solid ground where they sat for a moment, panting.
Covered in wet sand from his shoulders down, Crispin glared at Andre with fury that almost took him aback and growled, “You’re a damn fool!”
Andre curled his lip. Hadn’t he just saved the bastard’s life? “You’re welcome.”
“For what? I told you to leave me. What the hell kind of pirate are you?”
“I didn’t do it for your sake,” Andre said coldly, “but for ours. If we run into trouble, two wolves are better than one.”
This answer seemed to satisfy Crispin who leaned his head against a tree trunk for a moment.
Chantel hurried over, looking so relieved that Andre couldn’t help smiling.
“Worried about us?” Crispin grinned.
Her expression cooled and she folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Wouldn’t want to lose my partners this soon into the game. There’s still work to do.”
Andre and Crispin exchanged knowing glances.
“She was worried,” Andre said.
“Nearly panic stricken.”
“Only in your dreams.” Chantel sneered. “Now get your lazy asses up so we can finish what we started.”
They traveled for another hour before the pungent scent of Hide Marshers reached Andre’s nose. He stopped, a chill running through him. Chantel and Crispin also paused, sniffing the air.
“They’re close. A group. Possibly a hunting party,” Crispin said.
“Do you think they’ll catch our scent?” Chantel asked.
Andre shook his head. “They have a poor sense of smell. Still, their hearing is keen, so we’re not out of danger.”
“If the map is correct, we’re almost to the cave,” Crispin said.
Their senses straining and motions stealthier than ever, they made their way through the forest.
As they walked, the scent of the Hide Marshers combined with the scent of their fresh kill grew stronger. Then they heard the sound of raspy voices speaking in the Hide Marshers’ language. Andre caught sight of movement in the distance. He grasped Crispin and Chantel by their wrists and dragged them lower to the ground. When they glanced at him in question, he raised a finger to his lips to ensure they remained silent. He pointed ahead to where a group of Hide Marshers feasted on a dead bear.
Andre’
s pulse pounded and sweat trickled down the back of his neck. For several seconds he was no longer safely crouched in a clump of trees, but in the heart of battle with the Hide Marshers. Their razor claws, twice the length of a wolf’s, slashed his flesh and he felt the silver tipped dagger searing his eye.
A nudge from Crispin dragged him back to reality. The three moved slowly and carefully while keeping low to the ground. Luckily, the Hide Marshers were too involved in their feast to notice them. A short time later, the trio reached the mouth of a small cave partially hidden by vegetation.
“That was close,” Chantel said, “but we made it.”
“We still need to get the jewel,” Crispin said.
“Let’s hurry.” Andre took the lead.
Though the cave was dark, the wolves and vampire had no trouble seeing. They squeezed through a length of narrow tunnel before stepping into a large cave, half of which was filled with steamy water. Silvery reeds covered the walls.
“Whew,” Chantel muttered, running the back of her hand across her brow. “It’s hot in here.”
Crispin grunted his reply. Andre ignored them and focused his attention on a corner of the cave where no reeds grew. Resting on a natural shelf in the craggy wall, a bright blue jewel glistened. Several words in an unknown language were etched into the rock above it. He made his way to it, sloshing through calf-deep water. No sooner had he reached for it than he was thrown back several feet, as if some great force had shoved him full in the chest.
Chantel and Crispin cried out and when he turned to them, the reeds had, of their own accord, stretched out from the walls and wrapped around them. The deadly plants retracted, slamming Chantel and Crispin into the cave wall. They struggled, their fangs flashing, and tried to free themselves. Even Crispin in his wolf form was helpless against the living trap.
“I can’t move,” Chantel grunted, straining against her bonds.
“It’s like I have no strength,” Crispin choked, a reed tight on his throat. “Same… as… silver.”
The jewel momentarily forgotten, Andre raced to his companions and tried to free them. His claws were useless against the thick reeds, nor could his dagger do them any damage.
“Tell me your greatest fear,” said a soft, bubbly voice, as if some creature was speaking from underwater.
