Page 18 of Of Magic and Rum
“You’d be surprised how strong these legs are.”
Jack hangs his head before raising his eyes to the skies as if in a silent plea. “In normal circumstances, I would’ve made some quip about accepting the challenge of being between your thighs, but for some bizarre reason—” He slams the oar into the water with extra vigor. “—I’m not in themood.”
A victorious smile begs at my lips, but I hold it back.
“Aw. You poor little pirate.” I point at his rowing skills. “You’d get more distance if you flipped the oar to the same side every time.”
Jack pauses and tosses me a scowl capable of scaring off surrounding fish. “Wouldyoulike to row, Miss Bonny?” He holds the oar out to me with one fist, droplets landing on my skirt-covered legs and making me rigid.
I pretend to think about it before rapidly shaking my head. “No. I refuse to row myself to my demise.”
“Who says you’re meeting your demise?”
Men gather at the railing of Vane’s ship, pointing at us.
“Some things are worse than death,” I answer, my voice distant and whispered.
A man with a tri-cornered hat props his knee on the ship’s edge. An unsettling knot forms in my stomach when I recognize him from the tavern. Jack hadn’t been exaggerating to his crew; hedidsee him talking to me. But how did he know I shot him down? ThisisVane. Charles Vane.
“Rackham, you’re lucky I didn’t blow several holes in your ship in the time it took you to mosey your way over here in that little dinghy.” Vane rests a forearm on his raised knee, the crew behind him snickering and barking.
Jack winks at me and touches his finger to the side of his nose. He rotates the boat sideways. “You didn’t because you know my crew would’ve unleashed hellfire on you in return. Wouldn’t want your pretty ship with as many holes as your britches now, would you?”
Vane flicks the cutlass’s hilt at his hip, making a metallicpang. “What the hell are you doing, Jack? And who—” He points a stern finger at me, his dark eyes narrowing, trying to make out my face, but I’m not looking in his direction. “—is this?”
“You don’t recognize her? Here, let me get a bit closer.” Jack reaches for the oar.
I lift my foot, ready to launch it into the water even if I’ll have to swim like my life depended on it, and itwould. But despite Jack’s arrogance and disregard for other beings, I know I’d fare better on his ship than Vane’s.
Jack moves the oar before my limb can connect with it and wags a finger at me. “Nuh-uh, lovely. Fool me once; that’s on me. Fool me twice—” He inches forward and rows us closer to the ship’s hull with an awaiting rope ladder. “—you don’t.”
I can drown him where he sits—call on an orca to leap from the water and devour him. But I don’t.
“Recognize her now, Vane?” Jack calls out but keeps his gaze fixed on me.
Vane is slung over the railing, a devilish grin snaking his lips. “Well, well, we meet again, my dear.”
Bile works its way up my throat, and I press my hands to my stomach, fighting back the nausea, and remain silent as the grave.
“And why exactly are you doing this?” Vane’s attention turns to Jack.
Jack remains seated, securing the oar out of my reach. “I’m tired of you scaring off merchants because you have nothing better to do with your time than chase me around the Caribbean. I offer you Anne here as a ‘Fuck off’ gift.”
“Anne, hm?” Vane’s eyes are on me again, his tongue skirting the corner of his mouth. “And why are you so willing to give up such a treasure? What’s wrong with her?”
“Not a thing. I’ve—” Jack pulls me across the boat, not harshly enough to hurt me, but so suddenly it pulls a gasp from my throat. “—have had my fill of her.” Those mahogany eyes drop to my lips, giving me a singular second to process what he’s about to do, and his lips are on mine.
A hand presses to the back of my skull, keeping me put long enough for several brushes of our mouths and a final swoosh of his tongue that he easily darts between my lips. He tastes like rum, bananas, and faint tobacco. The moment my stomach twists, I shove him away, using more force than intended. It’s enough to make him jerk his head, surprised. He drags a finger over his mouth. Did it feel as tingly as mine does? Static mixed with trickling grains of sand?
“Alright, Jack. She’s good for a month of reprieve. No more and no less.” Vane pounds his fist against the ship.
“A month?” I seethe at Jack, tugging his shirt. “This isn’t getting you a permanent reprieve, but justonebloody month? That’s what you’re giving me away for?”
Jack’s nostrils flare near my neck as if smelling me. “That good of a kiss, love? Suddenly don’t want to be rid of me?”
I clench my teeth so tight I fear one cracking.
I have never met a mortal or otherbeingwho enraged me as much as intrigued me all in one breath.
