Page 33 of Of Magic and Rum
“Most confuse us for mermaids, but we’re different. I can conjure my tail or legs and control the seas. A mermaid is more categorizedasa sea creature, whereas I’m more of a—” Anne pauses, waiting for me to lift my gaze to hers. “—deity.”
The floor becomes wading waters, and I stumble back on my heels. How did I let this slip through my fingers? How could I have let something like this around my crew? And yet, as much a threat as she poses, she can also be the best asset any pirate captain could hope for.
“Jack,” Anne whispers, reaching a hand through the bars but withdrawing it before I can decide if I want to touch her.“Another truth? I expected a ruthless captain and a vile crew that I wouldn’t care if I used or not. The plan was to keep my head down, get where I needed to go, and take advantage when possible.”
She sounds more like me with each passing second, which agitates me. But I don’t want her tostop.
“I assume these plans changed at some point?” I dip my face near hers, grabbing the bar closest to her head.
She nods, her eyes panning to the floor, and I get lost for a few breaths, counting the freckles scattering her cheeks. “I didn’t expect a crew to feel more like a—” Anne’s eyes pinch shut, a pained wrinkle creasing above her nose. “—a family.”
I suspect this single word weighs more on her than she’ll ever admit. She’s skillful at hiding her intentions, but some expressions are more complex to mask.
“And thisruthlesscaptain?” Slipping a hand between the bars, I lift her chin with my knuckle.
When her eyes land on mine, a tightening coils in my gut. “Ruthless when heneedsto be, not simply because hecanbe.”
Agitation laced with optimism and intrigue sizzles in my chest. Growling, I turn away from her for fear of her gaze entrancing me somehow. “Anne, you have no idea what complications this causes. I don’t know if I can trust you not to jeopardize us all.”
Frantically, Anne uses the bars to pull herself closer to me, to the furthest corner of the cell. “I’m not asking you to trust me immediately. But I’m asking for thechance.”
Keeping my back to her, I run the orange sash hanging from my waist between two fingers, the fabric snagging on my callused skin. “This would’ve been so much different if you’d have just come forward from the beginning.”
“And what? Risk you all turning me in for profit? I didn’t know you. Andmoretruth? If it weren’t for you falling intothe sea, I probably still wouldn’t have told you yet.” Anne sighs and presses her forehead to the bars. “Call it cowardice or whatever you wish, but my kind has remained in the shadows for centuries since mortals stopped believing. How was I to know the reaction? The dangers?”
Damn it all to hell. There’s no winning this round for either of us.
But then, something she’s said perks my ear, and I swivel on my heel. “Yourkind? How many of you are there?”
“I’m not sure. I couldn’t give you an exact number. Hundreds? Thousands?”
The air is torn from my lungs, and I press a hand to my ribs.Thousands? “How do you all keep so hidden? If there’s this many of you, surely, we would’ve seen one by now before—before you.”
Anne traces a fingertip over her chapped lips. “We’ve become experts with blending in. Well, I suppose for me, until recently, that is.” A weak smile tugs at her mouth.
Grinding my teeth, I yank the small bottle of rum water from my pouch and slip it between the bars for her. “Is Anne your real name?”
“Thank you,” she whispers hoarsely, popping the cork and taking several small sips before answering. “No. Do you want to know what it is?”
This question creates a battle in my mind. On the one hand, I want to know out of sheer curiosity, but on the other, learning this will only make things too real. And with a name like Anne, it makes her so—human.
“Not today. Perhaps another time.” Sniffing once, I scratch my chin and backpedal from the cell, trying to ignore the subtle disappointment edging her eyes. “At any rate, you will remain in the brig for now.”
“What?” Anne exclaims, her eyes going wide as sand dollars. “Jack, you?—”
“You are safer down here, and the crew is safer—” I clench my fists at my sides. “—from you.”
“Jack,” she whispers again, and the pain surrounding my name floating from her lips is almost enough to undo me.
Not daring to look at her, I move for the door. “I’ll be sure Ragnar delivers daily rations to you.”
“Youneedme,” Anne declares, a new form of venom sparking in her voice.
I pause with my hand splayed at the door knob. After counting to three so as not to react impulsively, I storm back for the cell, glaring at her through the bars. “I don’tneedanyone, lovely.”
“In this case, Rackham—” Anne rises to the balls of her feet, bringing her eyes to my chin level. “—you do.”
She knows something I don’t, the little minx.
