Page 21 of Of Magic and Rum
“I thought no one was concerned with the other’s background here?” My traitorous hips tilt forward, and I shove my backside against the door.
“All I need to know is if there’s something—anything—that we’re taking on by signing you to our crew that could come back to bite us in the ass.” Jack shakes his head, wavy tendrils of chestnut hair falling over his gaze. “That’s all.”
The Charybdis can do a lot more than bite an ass. It consumes you. But what are the odds of it coming to that aboard a ship? Itneverattacks ships.
“No, Jack. I’m just trying to get to my family, and I didn’t have the money to buy a ticket.”
Jack nods, his face closing in on mine, his lips a breath from my brow before he pushes off the wall and turns away. “Family, eh? Husband?”
“Does it matter?” Dropping my gaze to my feet, I adjust the dress’s sleeves.
Jack chuckles, swipes a wooden pick from his desk, and uses it to clean his teeth. “Only curious whose heart I’ll eventually break by stealing you away.”
My stomach dips, and my chest tightens. I’ve known enough powerful, arrogant people to last me multiple lifetimes. But theyhaveimmense power, some with enough to alter the cosmos. And Jack is just—Jack. It’s either insanity or abundant confidence—probably both.
“Was that all you had to ask me?”
Jack tosses the pick and yanks the cutlass from his belt, the blade resonating with a satisfyingschlingsound. “Do you know how to use one of these? Because I’d hate to have our lives banking on a dagger.” He bounces his brow where I’ve hidden my knife, attached with leather to my thigh. How does heknowthese things?
Changing my stance, I clear my throat. “I can hold my own.”
“Good. Get some rest, then. Because tomorrow, you’re going to prove it.” Jack sheathes the sword and waltzes for the door. “On deck. So, you can prove it to the crew as well.”
My insides become one massive jumble of nerves. It’s not because I doubt my skills with a blade; he has no idea what I can do, but how far should I go before I’m unable to explain myself?
“Fine. Where are my clothes?” I follow Jack after giving a fluttery wave to Truffles.
“Your shit clothes?” Jack scrunches his nose. “Tossed ‘em overboard. You’ll have to make do with that dress. Get Mary to do her magical cuts or tears or whatever the hell she does.” He moves about the deck, business as usual, with me following behind him like a rebellious shadow.
“Tossed them—but you had no right.” My chest bumps against his stomach as he suddenly turns to face me, and my skin instantly heats.
“I had no right? Because those clothes were yours? Not stolen?”
I bat stray hair from my eyes. “Notallof them.”
“It’s a new era for you, Anne—time for something new. Talk to Mary and figure it out before tomorrow morning. Because—” Jack lowers his lips near my ear. “—you’ll need to movefreely.” The hair of his beard brushes my earlobe as he smiles against it and steps away.
I’ll deviseanyexcuse because there’s no chance I’ll let Calico Jack outmatch me in a swordfight. Fighting with a blade—is in myblood.
I’m a whirlpool of confusion, lust, and weariness. The universe has thrown many obstacles my way, but none as dangerous as Anne Bonny. And I’ve had my fair share of women—broken enough hearts while in port and felt no qualms about it, butAnne? From the first moment I saw her in that tavern, I knew there was something different about her. The fire? The angst? Her willingness and confidence to go toe-to-toe with me physically? Verbally? Fuck. My mind should be focused ononething: the jewel.
I drag a hand over my face, busying myself with the ship’s wheel while absentmindedly half-assing the melody of a sea shanty under my breath.
“You know you don’t need to steer the ship with every tiny shift, right, son?” Duke asks, appearing at my side with his arms crossed.
Moving the wheel harder than necessary to the right and then back left, I flash him an unenthused grin. “Maybe I just want to feel the power beneath my fingertips.”
“Or—” Duke moves in front of me. “—you came up here to do some deep thinking. What’s on your mind?”
“There are far too many things to bother you with them, Duke,” I grumble, spying Anne emerging from below deck.
Finally.
She and Mary went down there an hour ago to readjust her attire.
When Anne comes into full view, an odd flutter bursts in my chest, floating down to settle in my stomach. I knew Mary would have enough spare clothes to outfit Anne without her having to roam around in shitty-smelling ones. But the outcome? This—I wasn’t expecting.
She’s not showing an ounce of skin save for her face, neck, and hands, but she has grown more attractive. The green dress has been mostly torn away, leaving bits draping around her waist hanging over a pair of tight brown trousers. A loose-fitting black leather corset hugs her ribs, sprouting from a billowing white tunic shirt. A dark green sash catches the wind breezing over the deck, sending it flying behind her like a ship’s colors on the mast.
