by S. M. Welles
Another said, “Yes. All your goods are belong to us now.” Several men snickered.
Ted said, “‘Are belong’? You call that English?”
“Fuck you,” said the grammatically offensive one. “I speak good English.”
Mido hefted the grenade. “Let’s see how well you scream in English.” He pelted the grenade down the ladder, then pressed himself against the stern. Glass shattered and cries erupted from the skiff. Men yelled to each other in French and Jessie heard a few of them dive into the water. A bit farther off, more voices paddled closer to the Pertinacious as hands slapped the stern ladder. Mido pivoted and waved Jessie over. She put her hands on Ted’s shoulders and leaned past him. “Time to kick some ass, my sea goddess.” He kissed her firmly on the lips, then turned back to the ladder.
For a moment his words and kiss stunned her, and then she regained her grip on reality. She let go of Ted, rolled her wrists and flexed her fingers, and tapped her spiked gloves together, feeling ready to take on the men below.
Two men burst onto the deck. Mido and Ted grappled with them one on one, leaving Jessie with the third assessing the deck with just his head showing. She stood and caught a glimpse of the three skiffs below. Two were empty, one of them sinking. The third got rammed by several dolphins. Smiling, she slipped into invincible mode, then kicked the third man in the face. He joined his swimming comrades as a fourth man came up the ladder, a sword point leading the way. He climbed aboard and squared off with Jessie. She was more than ready for him.
She watched his eyes dart to her shoulder. Her brass knuckles parried the thrust and, like she’d practiced so many times, darted inside his range as she pushed the weapon wide, then executed her favorite five-punch combo: back-fist to the face, hammer to sternum, upper-cut to jaw, sucker punches to stomach, then one last upper-cut as her foe doubled over. The pirate toppled backwards, unconscious.
Swift and deadly, just like she’d been taught. She kicked the dropped sword over the side and rejoined the fray, fists swinging.
Chapter 21
Husk
I can’t say whether or not having an interruption before I even saw my cheeseburger was an improvement. I wanted absolutely no interruptions, even in a notoriously disruptive port, so I got pissed off all the same and scared the living hell out of the pirates with a water show. Yes, I hated my demon powers, but I hated both burger interruptions and quasi-children more, so a water show it was. Would be interesting to hear what additions to my curse Delilah would have next time I saw her. I rarely used my command over water to defend my ship simply because the rest of the word was better off not knowing I was a supernatural being. The general consensus didn’t share Ed’s and Ted’s enthusiasm for my curse. It’d make the hiring process all that much more difficult. That and I never knew where exactly the line was drawn and I started dipping into demon strength, like at the train station.
On top of that, I didn’t know how to give up the sea life. I liked the consistent motion and adventure, the smell of the sea, her sparkling beauty, raw power, and just how open and free it was. Wouldn’t mind less danger so I’d have fewer friends to cremate, but such was the unnaturally long life I hadn’t entirely chosen.
I kept the southern coast of Turkey in sight off port as we headed to Paphos. We were a handful of hours from the island and several days away from my next lockdown. I’d made Athens a touch-and-go stop, explaining that we’d make Cyprus our next mini vacation. There was minor disappointment from a few crew members, sheer joy from Jessie, and unmasked disgust from Jacobi, who was able to limp around with just a cast and no crutches now.
He could kiss my ass; he would’ve been thrilled if Jessie wasn’t a factor in things. I mentioned that to him. He had nothing intelligent to say to that, so he stormed out of the galley and towards the bow. I gave him a small lead, then silently followed. Cancer waved for the others to let him get up but I held up a hand. “Lemme talk one on one. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“As you wish, Captain.” Cancer scooted back into his spot at the table as Jessie and Mido whipped up a Greek breakfast of strudels and frittata. No clue what a frittata was but the mystery meal smelled great so far.
I headed down the hall and slipped into the cargo hold before the door finished swinging shut, then headed farther in and stopped by a stack of crates that blocked my view of the punching bag. I listened to Jacobi don the spare punching gloves and start beating up the bag, then gave him a few minutes to cool off before rounding the crates. Plenty of time to smooth things out with plenty of ocean to sail.
Jacobi was wobbly on his half-healed leg. He attacked in short bursts and stopped in between to catch his balance, but boy could he still send the bag swinging. I knocked on a wood crate to announce my presence, and his attacks came to a halt. Not sure how short his fuse was today. I didn’t feel like suffering a broken jaw, or worse, for startling him.
He spun towards me, gloves leading the way, but then he did a double-take. He straightened up and steadied the bag with both hands, a glare on his face. “What do you want, Captain?”
“Don’t take that tone with me,” I said in a low voice. I stuck my hands in my coat and wore my dangerous poker face. He’d had a whole month to get over having Jessie aboard. This was getting old.
“Sorry, Captain.” He sounded like he’d tried to mean it but he was still too high on rage. He bowed his head and his nostrils flared with contained fury.
I studied the bearing of his shoulders, the set of his jaw, his balled-up fists, and the shoulder-width placement of his feet for signs that he might lash out at me. I wasn’t afraid of him, even though I’d more than likely lose. I feared very few things without having death as a consequence.
Right now, Jacobi’s ego needed taking down a few notches but I couldn’t do that if he’d explode into fight mode. Once his nostrils stopped flaring and his fingers uncurled a little, I took a step closer. “You need to calm down and grow up. Your attitude is beyond ridiculous. All this piss-poor attitude over having a woman on board… did you lose your balls in Chesapeake? Just grow up.”
Jacobi kept his head low and said nothing. I waited for the slightest opening of his mouth but he presented me with no opportunities to further rip into him. This was turning out to be quite the bland chewing out session.
“Now, I have a very important question for you.” He met my gaze with a cold glare, his anger not directed towards me. You could feel hate when you looked eye-to-eye with a person. His hate was internal, instead of rolling towards me in waves. That earned him some IQ points back. “What’s more important to you: getting rid of my curse or getting rid of Jessie?”
Hesitation ate at his contained hate. His glare waned.
“She’s done nothing to give you reason to hate her.”
“She kicked and badmouthed me.”
“Oh, and I bet you were so gentlemanly towards her.”
“She doesn’t belong on your ship.”
More IQ points for not calling the Pertinacious “our ship” at this time. That would’ve further pissed me off. “That’s not your call to make. Besides, she hasn’t said anything about making her stay permanent. She just wants to help with my curse then go home. So shut up and put up.” I turned to leave.
“She’s not going to help you, Captain. Why do you believe anything that bitch says?”
My back to him, I said, “Jacobi, I have been around a lot longer than you. I know when I’m being lied to.”
“Then why’d she run away in Revivre?”
I faced him. “Did you see her try to run away in Le Havre? No. In fact she helped take out a bunch of pirates.”
“Only because she wants you to get her home.”
“Of course she wants to go home, you moron. She hasn’t seen it in two years because she was too busy getting raped and abused on Tethys’s ship.”
“I’ll come back and haunt you if I die because of her.” He ripped off the gloves and slapped them on top of the bag
.
Aha, the real root of the matter. All this rage to mask fear. “Then help her instead of hinder her. Amphitrite is taking careful stock of how we all treat Jessie. You’re asking for trouble with your piss-poor attitude. Did you ever think of that?” I hadn’t warned anyone of this because I wanted their behavior to be genuine. She wouldn’t miss feigned kindness. If Jacobi pretended to be nice just to preserve his own skin, that wouldn’t go over well either.
He gaped in abject horror. “Now I hate her even more. Both of them.” He punched the bag.
“Now answer my first question.”
Jacobi heaved a sigh through his nose, then faced the bag. “I know what my answer should be but for some reason I can’t hide how much I hate having her around. Something about her just makes me want to strangle her.”
“Do I need to put a restraining order on you?”
He looked at me. “No, Captain.”
“Then what the hell’s your problem?”
He thought a moment, then held up his hands. “I don’t know. I just don’t like her and want her off this ship. I don’t think she’ll bring you any closer to getting your curse lifted.”
His words struck a chord with a fear I had buried deep inside. Being around for almost three centuries now, I couldn’t help but wonder if she kept me alive just to toy with and torment me. Were these avatars really sent to help me? Part of me refused to believe that might be true. No matter how bleak things seemed, I couldn’t abandon hope.
He thought some more and punched the bag a few times. “But if she’s not interested in permanently staying here, then I’ll do my best to shut up and put up.”
“Good. Now go apologize to her.” Burying my fears back down, I didn’t blame him for the look of disgust but I pointed a finger at him anyway and gave him a look of “don’t you dare protest.” Making him apologize to Jessie would be the same as me apologizing to Amphitrite for my anger and thanklessness when she’d “saved” my life over two hundred years ago. She still wanted that apology. Tough crap.
Jacobi punched the bag one more time, sending it spinning, then did his best to storm off while limping. Kinda hard to put on an intimidating strut with one leg in a cast. I followed him back to the galley.
* * *
Jessie could barely contain her excitement about seeing her home for the first time in two years. She was thrilled when Mido and the others agreed to let her cook up a Greek breakfast. Didn’t take much convincing once they heard the word “strudel.” Right now, ten more apple strudels with sliced almonds on top were baking in the oven. The galley smelled delectably like a bakery. Mido was helping dice up meat and vegetables for the frittatas, which she’d explained were basically omelets baked in the oven.
Jacobi limped into the galley with Dyne right behind him. The captain stopped by his customary spot at the end of the table and watched Jacobi expectantly, who was scowling at the floor. He turned in Jessie’s direction, met her gaze for a moment, then looked back down and shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said flatly, then plopped on the opposite end of Dyne, who opened his mouth.
“It’s fine,” Jessie said. “Really. It is. It’s more than I ever expected.”
Dyne studied her a moment. “Alright then.” He sat down and reached for his coffee.
Mido said, “The frittatas are ready anyway, so let’s eat.” He and Jessie cut the pies into quarters and set them on the middle of the table. Eight hands shot out to claim a slice of breakfast, even Jacobi, but he gave his slice a scowl. Ted elbowed him.
Sam said, “Stop scowling, Jacobi. Food’s always great. Even better with these two goin’ at it together.”
“Whatever.” Jacobi, along with the rest of the crew, devoured their frittatas, followed by the strudels. Jessie and Mido sipped at coffee while everyone else ate. They’d eat together afterwards, as had become customary.
Soon after there was nothing but crumbs on the crew’s plates, the techies headed off to the engine room, the cargo pushers to the hold, and Dyne to the wheelhouse to relieve Rammus, leaving Jessie and Mido all alone.
Mido removed their plates from an oven. “Let’s head to your cabin. I want to make good on my breakfast-in-bed promise now, since we didn’t stay in Athens long enough for it.”
“Can’t wait until Paphos?” she said with a grin.
He grabbed two sets of silverware. “Nope. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Jessie led the way and unlatched the side of her bunk. Mido set the plates on the flap, then undid the middle bunk’s latches and moved the plates up there.
“Have a seat, Jessie.”
She plunked herself on the wood, leaving room for Mido. He sat on the floor and took her sandals off one at a time, then began massaging her feet. She hadn’t worn her steel toe boots since the Mediterranean Sea was one of the safest bodies of water.
“I’ll give you a proper breakfast in bed sooner or later. Right now I can barely contain myself.” He playfully nibbled on a toe. She flinched and let out a girly giggle. He tickled her other foot and she lifted it out of his touch. He spread her thighs and kissed each of them, then lifted her shirt and kissed her belly. He kneeled and pressed Jessie’s knees to his hips. “Still good?”
“Yes, but I’m afraid of getting caught.” She leaned over and kissed him.
“Me too, sadly.” He rubbed her inner thighs. “Think you’ll wanna try again in Paphos?”
“You bet.” She rubbed his groin, coaxing him to full mast.
“Okay, no more of that,” he said with a grin but made no move to stop her. She continued rubbing him. He drew closer, making her legs spread farther and knees raise, but once he got too close, she grabbed his hips and held him in place.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t tease you like that.”
He kissed her. “I don’t mind. It feels great. But we might as well eat before we get caught.”
“Yeah.” She bit down another apology as she released his hips.
“Here, pull the mattress out a bit.” Jessie got up and Mido stuck a fold-up chair under the flap, which lined up perfectly. They centered the mattress, then Jessie crawled in first. Mido handed a plate and a set of silverware to her, then snuggled up beside her. Neither of them could sit fully upright so they lay with their plates on their stomachs and gave each other another kiss. “To breakfast in bed.”
“To breakfast in bed.” They clinked their forks together and began eating, the noise machine their ambient sound, and the ship gently rocking. It was a little uncomfortable eating like that, but the romantic company was worth it. And so was the taste of home.
Mido wolfed his food down and set his plate aside on the floor, then slipped an arm under Jessie’s back and let his free hand wander up and down her body as she ate. His wandering hands slowly made her lose interest in her food. She barely finished her frittata by the time she handed over her plate. He set her half-eaten strudel out of sight with a clink, then drew the curtain, plunging them both into semi-darkness. Kissing her, he undid her pants button and zipper, causing Jessie to spread her legs a little. She inhaled his scent.
“This is just for you, my sea goddess. I’m saving my rounds for Paphos.” Working his kisses and playful bites to her ear and neck, he slipped a hand inside her undergarments and began giving her one of his magical massages.
* * *
It took Jessie fifteen minutes to recover from her bliss before she could stand again. She more rolled than sat upright as Mido picked up their plates. He looked just as dreamy as her, even though he’d only given. He planted one more kiss, then headed to the galley to wash off and clean up after breakfast. Jessie fixed her pants, ran her hands through her hair a few times, and wobbled her way to the bathroom with a full bladder.
The stall she walked into was unusually shadowy but she didn’t care in her dreamy state. She felt too good to care about anything but continuing to feel good. She relieved her bladder and just sat there with her hands in her lap, too dreamy t
o move.
Something rustled above her.
Hunched on the shelf that was supposed to be holding extra toilet paper was— “O’Toole!” He sat there with his fists in his mouth, eyes twinkling with mischief, and one foot wiggling away with nervous energy. She cleaned up, zipped up, and flushed. “Get out of here!” She grabbed his legs, yanked him to the floor, and shoved him out of the stall. He gibbered and whimpered, and pawed at her shoulder, but she pushed him so hard that he almost fell over. It was taking all her willpower to not beat the crap out of him.
Gibbering, O’Toole ran off, leaving Jessie to wash her hands in bliss-ruined peace. Once clean and thoroughly pissed off, she stormed over to the galley and took a seat with a huff.
Mido looked up from the dish pile he was building. “What’s wrong?”
“O’Toole was hiding in the bathroom stall I used. I am not pleased.”
Mido started laughing, then gave his back to her when she gave him a glare of death. His broad shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“It’s. Not. Funny.”
He doubled over.
Jessie got up and poured herself some coffee. “I need fresh air.”
He caught his breath enough to say, “I’m sorry. That’s our unofficial rite of initiation into the crew. Ted’s the only one left he hasn’t gotten yet.” His face was all red and eyes watery.
“Fantastic,” she said dryly. “And he had to pick when I was feeling all dreamy to do that.”
Mido lost most of his grin. “Aw, Jessie, I’m sorry. I’ll bring you back to that in Paphos. Start dreaming of us making sweet love while you go get some fresh air.” He kissed her forehead and sent her off with a squeeze to her rear. That got a smile out of her but she shooed the pleasant thoughts away, determined to be grumpy for a bit.
* * *
Towards the end of the day, Cyprus bore into view on the horizon. Jessie joined Dyne in the wheelhouse to help him navigate to the dock that would lead her home at last. Mido was preparing drinks and treats in the galley. Even though she wanted him up with her, she didn’t mind waiting for some celebratory food and drink to go with her homecoming.
