Iron Pirate (The Deviant Future Book 5)

by Eve Langlais

He snorted. “I might be many things, but a slaver isn’t one of them.”

  “I thought all pirates dealt in flesh.”

  “I only deal in the pleasurable kind.” He’d leaned low to whisper it before winking and straightening. He moved to his wardrobe. “Needless to say, against my questionable judgment, we won’t be selling you for ten bags of Dust.”

  She almost smiled at his obviously fake disgruntlement. “I thank you.”

  “Don’t. This noble shit really sticks in my throat.” He grabbed at his neck and choked.

  This time the smile emerged, but he paid it no mind as he reached for a shirt. He covered his bandaged upper body with all its muscled ridges. How did he keep so fit aboard a ship? He padded barefoot past her, heading for a trunk, where he pulled out boots.

  “What happened to your last pair?”

  “Left them behind when I ended my meeting with The Ghost.”

  “You mean you ran through the streets and fought in your bare feet?” For some reason she found this vastly amusing.

  “Is there a problem with that?”

  She shook her head and had to bite a smile.

  “At least I had my pants this time. Fighting in the nude is the worst. All those dangling bits. They make large targets.” The wink and innuendo hit their mark, and she flushed red.

  Before she could say a thing, he’d left, shutting the door behind him. But that didn’t erase him from her mind. Darius was proving to be a fascinating man, and a huge flirt. She wasn’t oblivious. She’d seen his attempts for what they were. He wanted to have sex with her. From the rumors she’d heard, he wanted to have sex with pretty much anyone. The man had a reputation, and she wasn’t about to add to it, not to mention she wasn’t in the mood.

  So much had happened of late, and she felt as if she were still spinning. She couldn’t quite process everything that had happened. Couldn’t see past the now to a future. Would she ever feel safe again? The ache in her heart for her father, would it ever ease?

  Not to mention her guilt. She’d run from her responsibilities. Abandoned the people she’d been caring for when her father got sick. Who would protect them against a duke who wouldn’t care about their rights or needs?

  The thought of protection had her glancing at the door. The captain had fought for her. Him, his crew. They’d come to her aid when no one else had. It awed her and made her wonder how she’d earned that kind of regard. Or was that just the kind of people they were? The kind who came across a pathetic girl and offered sanctuary.

  Except for Darius. He complained about everything and then had the nerve to try and get close. He could take his smoldering interest elsewhere.

  The door opened, and she squeaked, especially since he walked in. “What do you want?”

  “My bed back,” he snapped.

  Her spine straightened. “You want it? Take it. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.”

  That caused his jaw to go rigid. “There are no other beds.”

  “So where are you sleeping?” she asked, wondering if he shared.

  “The chair in the bridge, which is killing my back,” he groused, stomping to a chest of drawers bolted to the wall. He slid open a drawer and grabbed a long brassy tube with glass on the end.

  “If you want, we could share it,” she said. When his lips tilted, she quickly added, “In shifts. When I’m awake, you could pop in for a nap.”

  “That’s not my idea of sharing,” he said, leaning against the dresser and crossing his arms, the viewing scope tethered to his belt.

  “The bed isn’t really big enough for both of us at once,” she said. Not entirely true, given she slept on the side and rarely sprawled.

  “Oh, it’s plenty big,” he said with a wink.

  Her cheeks heated. How did he have the ability to fluster her? “It wouldn’t be proper for us to sleep in it together at the same time. What would your crew say?”

  “It’s none of their fucking business.”

  “I’m not that kind of woman.” She lifted her chin. He might be handsome and attractive, but she wasn’t about to complicate her life.

  “No one has to know.” He stepped closer. “It can be our little erotic secret.”

  He stood close enough she had to tilt to keep her gaze on him. “Here’s what you don’t get. If I wanted to sleep with you, I would, and I wouldn’t care who knew because I’m not afraid of showing commitment. And that’s what it takes for me to get close to someone. I’m looking for a partner in life, not just someone who gives me a few minutes of fun.”

  “Try hours,” he muttered.

  “Are you that bad at it?” she retorted. “I feel sorry for your chafed partners.”

  His smile was slow and wicked. “Hours of pleasure. Think of it, princess. A slow, sensual exploration of your body with my mouth and hands, bringing you to the brink of orgasm and then holding you there.”

  “Sounds more painful than fun,” she said, even as the thought made her heart pound.

  “It’s pure ecstasy. And anytime you want to try it, you let me know.” With that offer, he left.

  She almost yelled at him to come back.

  Chapter 5

  It took all his willpower not to turn around and march back and pleasure her until she gasped his name. Her expressive face had shown desire. He would have even sworn the attraction between them sizzled in the air.

  And yet she’d said no. She wanted commitment.

  He didn’t need sex that badly. The very idea, a pirate and a princess together. He snorted and was still chuckling as he entered the iron bridge.

  He found both his mates in there manning the controls. They’d insisted he leave to clean his wound once they cleared the bay. Not an easy feat. It took a razor wire cutter to sever them from the dock and the use of the cannons to defend against those who tried to stop them from leaving. They’d broken through the Tawa forces and sailed the open ocean.

  With everyone now aware he had the priceless princess on board.

  Fuck.

  “Are we pursued?” he asked without preamble.

  “Probably,” Tanzie said without lifting her head. “I expect there’s at least one or two ships tailing us just out of sight.

  “Veer us into the Graveyard,” he commanded.

  “Captain?” Tanzie’s attention flipped to him.

  “We need to lose anyone following. The Graveyard is our closest option.” A place aptly named, given the number of ships that sank in it. Great treasure hunting if you survived the dive. “We’ll engage evasive maneuvers once we hit the rapids.”

  Around the center of the Graveyard—a massive area dotted with large rocky outcrops that resembled tombstones—there existed a turbulent section with vicious currents. Smart people avoided it. Adventure and thrills seekers, though? There was great fun to be had if you could keep a ship from being smashed on the unforgiving stone. Flying through the rapids, avoiding a smashing death was a good way to lose a tail.

  “How is da princess?” Jorah asked as he changed the angle of their rudder.

  “Sassy,” Darius replied without thinking.

  Tanzie snickered. “Imagine that, a princess with attitude.”

  “Except when it comes to these attacks. She keeps apologizing for them.”

  “Maybe because she’s genuinely sorry to bring trouble to us,” Tanzie nudged.

  “I know she is,” he said on a sigh. “Why else do you think we’re going through this trouble? It would have been a lot easier to just hand her over to the Ghost and walk away richer.”

  “But wrong,” Jorah rumbled.

  “I know. And in case you hadn’t noticed, that didn’t happen.”

  “Because you’re a good man, Cap’n.” High praise from his first mate.

  “I’d rather be a living captain,” he grumbled under his breath.

  They saw no sign of pursuit that afternoon, but when night fell, they did spot a distant pinprick of light. They weren’t alone on the water.

  He
did his best to sleep, letting Jorah take the first watch while he made use of his first mate’s rock-hard bed. Not only did the mattress have no give to it, it didn’t have the fine sheets he’d spent a fortune on.

  The next morning, they could see steam rising in the sky from the ship chugging after them. It made no effort to hide, not now that it knew where he was going.

  Too little, too late. Before mid-morning, they’d be inside the Graveyard, and by noon, they’d be navigating the rapids. He should have been too busy to worry about the princess, yet he found himself knocking on the door—his door, which still stuck in his craw.

  At least she opened it right away. “Hello, Captain. Is everything all right?”

  He had a moment to be tongue-tied as he noted she’d changed from her previous apparel to a gown. The fabric was a bright pattern, the bodice fitted and flaring at her hips. He realized it must have been a gift from Tanzie when he noticed the split seam that made the skirt loose pants.

  “I thought you might like a turn on deck for some air before things get a little rough.”

  She paled. “Rough?”

  Only the truth would serve her kindly. “You might want to skip any more meals until after we’re through the Graveyard. The waters can be a little tricky.”

  “Duly noted,” she mumbled as she stepped out of the room.

  She wore no shoes, which, for some reason, reminded him of his failure in Tawa. What had he been thinking sending Tanzie shopping like that? Problem was he didn’t think when around the princess. Couldn’t, because when she smiled…something happened inside his chest.

  Kind of pleasurably painful, he wasn’t sure if he liked it. Yet he couldn’t stop watching her, fascinated by her many expressions.

  Such as the one of delight as she breathed deep. “The air is so clean.”

  “The joys of being far from civilization,” he remarked, leaning against the rail.

  “Have you sailed your whole life?”

  He shook his head. “I boarded my first ship in my teens. A fishing vessel. It took only a few voyages for me to realize I loved being on the water.”

  “And became captain of your own ship.”

  “That took time.”

  Years and years of saving. Of going into dangerous places to find treasures to build the funds needed to buy the Rusted Cock, his first ship, a piece of crap that ended up sinking on its first voyage. Wasn’t the seller surprised to see Darius a few weeks later in his bedroom, knife at his throat? Darius accepted the Ocean Avenger in exchange for the crooked salesman’s life.

  “Rumors on the docks claim you’ve been sailing nine years. That’s impressive.”

  “Here’s to hoping we make it to ten,” he said, staring off into the distance at the smudges of land outlined against the skyline.

  “Are you planning to sail your whole life?”

  “This ship is my life.” The honest truth.

  “But you are always moving around.”

  “And?”

  “And don’t you want a place to call home?”

  “This is my home with an ever-changing scenery.” He gestured.

  “I can’t imagine living like this forever,” she said. “Always looking for monsters in the water. Navigating dangerous areas. Not to mention the queasiness.” She grabbed her belly.

  “Whereas I have to wonder how people can stay planted in one place for their whole life. The same view out the window. The same people.” He shuddered.

  “You have the same people on board wherever you go.”

  “Not people,” he corrected. “Family.”

  “Speaking of family, your brother is the king of the Marshlands. How is it you’re not some duke in his court or something?”

  “I’m worse than that,” he grumbled in a low tone.

  “What’s worse than…?” She paused. Then smiled. “He made you a prince, didn’t he?”

  “Because he’s an asshole.” The very idea of making a pirate royal. Darius had rejected it of course. He wanted nothing to do with fancy titles.

  “Does his court only have Aunimaa like the Enclave?” she asked.

  “Is this your subtle way of finding out if I’m magical? Already told you, you just have to ask.” He couldn’t help but outrageously flirt, mostly because he enjoyed seeing the pop of color in her cheeks.

  “I know Roark has power, but do you?”

  “Does it really matter?” he asked instead.

  “Apparently, or I wouldn’t be hiding here with you.” The princess knew exactly why she’d been ousted.

  “Even if you’d inherited some kind of psionic ability, can you really say for sure you wouldn’t still be here?”

  “Your pep talk needs work.”

  “I was more aiming for the voice of reason. The brutal truth is, even if you had power, there are those that would have tried to eliminate you.”

  Rather than flinch, she flattened her lips. “My father should have handled the duke before it got to this point.”

  “Too late for regret now.”

  “Too late for us both since I dragged you into it.” She sighed. “I really appreciate your help.”

  “If you did, you’d show it,” he grumbled.

  In a soft voice, she said, “Thank you so much, oh pirate captain sir.” She smiled wickedly and batted her lashes. “Is that better?”

  For some reason the snarky reply had him laughing. “You are not what I expected, princess.”

  “I hope that’s a good thing.”

  Actually, it wasn’t because, rather than bore him, he was more fascinated than ever. Distracted, too. The other ship was closing in, and they were almost to the center of the Graveyard.

  “Time for you to go back to the room.”

  “Do I have to?” Her pouty lip fascinated, but he remained focused.

  “Yes, you have to. It’s about to get really rough. You might want to tie yourself down and keep a bucket handy.”

  “I hate sailing,” she hotly retorted, stomping her way back to his quarters.

  He stared longer than he should have.

  Jorah yelled, “Batten down the hatches. We are entering the danger zone.”

  The monoliths loomed, and Darius hurried but not to the iron bridge. That was good for general maneuvers and when the engines hummed. The graveyard had a way of killing motors and even extinguishing flame. But the current would keep them moving, which meant he had to resort to fancy tricks to guide them. The hands-on kind.

  Darius pulled the goggles he’d snared earlier up around his eyes and planted himself on the prow, hands on the levers that would allow him to rapidly switch directions. He leaned down and latched his boots to the rings on the deck. He also attached a tether to his waist. Now he just had to hope the ship didn’t flip.

  They sailed past the first tombstone, cracked at the top and showing a jagged edge. The stones on the outside showed the most wear and tear. The ship tailing them had gained, but they were now well within the Graveyard, which meant he could start the process of losing the other vessel.

  Initially it took only small adjustments to angle them enough to glide past the monoliths, some of them now showing gaping holes, as if the stone bore many eyes. Inside those apertures, the intrepid went treasure hunting. Many not returning from the effort. But those that did usually clutched an ancient artifact or two.

  Today wasn’t a day to go exploring, though. The engines, as expected, sputtered and died. The only sound was the gurgle of water slapping on rock and against the hull. He flexed his fingers on the levers, his eyes fixed on the area ahead.

  Swish. He angled them sharply. Their speed had dropped since the engine died, so it was easy to notice when they entered the current. As the water rushed more rapidly, he had to flick the rudder more quickly, feeling the ship respond to his requests, riding the turbulent waters.

  He heard Ralf bellow. Crazy bastard had insisted on flying the nest atop the mast. He also refused a safety tether, claiming if his four hands coul
dn’t save him, then nothing would. “Behind us, Cap’n. Almost in firing range.”

  Darius didn’t bother confirming the claim. Ralf had sharp eyes.

  The tugs on the rudder angled them toward the most agitated paths, sending the ship lurching through narrower and narrower gaps, hurtling past stone in a blur. The spray of water soaked him and left droplets on his lenses, but he dared not take the time to wipe them.

  Left, little more left, sharp right. He became one with the ship, in tune with it on a level that let him feel the stress on its hull. Sensing when it began to lean too hard to one side, he pushed with the rudder to correct it.

  As he emerged from the many rocky spires, Ralf shouted again, “Still following.”

  Glancing ahead, he noted the curve around the waterfall that led to a gentle easy ride out. He didn’t take it.

  “Ralf, get below deck. Tell everyone to brace!” Darius yelled as he aimed right for the edge where the water spilled endlessly.

  Ralf scurried down that mast. The hatch slammed.

  Darius spent a moment wondering at his mental stability before the Ocean Avenger hit the lip of the waterfall and, for a moment, hung as if suspended midair. It didn’t last long.

  The ship dropped, hard and fast. The wind whistled past his cheeks for a second as they plunged before the gas chambers in the prow activated and straightened the ship so they were horizontal again. It didn’t slow them, though.

  The impact as they hit water jarred, snapping his jaw. He narrowly missed chomping off his tongue. Only his tethered boots kept him on that deck. He heard some ominous groaning as his ship protested the abuse, had a moment to see the sea rising as the force of the ship’s landing dented the surface, felt the wash of water as it spilled over the deck, and then an intense wobble as the ship fought the pull of the sea and returned to bob on the surface. When it stopped dipping left and right and appeared to remain level, he let go of his breath.

  His tension didn’t ease until Ralf, who’d returned, yelled, “The ship following us sank, Cap’n.”

  Finally, a bit of good news. He unclipped himself and headed for the bridge, shouting at Ralf, “Get me a status report on the hull.” He’d not sensed any pressure cracks, but it wouldn’t hurt to preemptively check.