Page 34 of Of Magic and Rum
A tick forms in my cheek, and I look to the heavens, reining in the bubbling irritation, before leveling my stare back on her. “Enlighten me.”
“The jewel you’re after? The one you incorrectly called the Sailor’s Jewel?” Anne taps a fingernail against the metal, making rhythmic panging sounds.
I hadn’t mislabeled it per se, but any accounts I’ve found through the years never named it, and I required something punchy to spark awe in my crew. “Continue,” I encourage through gritted teeth.
“That jewel—” Blue luminescent scales seem to shimmer over Anne’s cheeks. “—is the beacon for Atlantis.”
Atlantis. It can’t possibly—and she can’t be—or, is she?
I furiously rub my chin to maintain composure. “I still fail to hear why I needyou?”
Anne looks me square in the eye. If all of this hadn’t happened, I may have torn the cell door from its hinges and had my way with her on the damp floor.
“Because even if you have a precise location, which I know you don’t, you’d swim beneath the surface and see nothing but open water.”
My brows squish together. “I’m not following.”
“Atlantis could be right in front of you, and because you’re a mortal, you not only wouldn’t be able to access it, but you won’t know it’sthere.” Anne gives a taunting glare to rival Blackbeard himself.
Twirling the brass ring on my right middle finger, I slowly nod. “And I’m going to guess you, being what you are, can access it?”
“And there’s those smarts again.”
A chuckle vibrates from my belly, and I reach between the bars, stroking my fingertips over those scarlet tresses. I know how soft they can be, but strangely I enjoy how taut the salt has made them. “Let me make something clear. If you’re toying with me and whatever you claim puts me or my crew in danger, I will not hesitate to leave you at the next port. There are plenty of other ships you can steal away on.”
Anne presses her face between the bars so nothing is blocking her razor-sharp expression. “And if you become my worst fear by telling anyone about what I am after I saved your life, putting itallat risk? I won’t hesitate to kill you or any of the crew who threaten me.”
I never knew my cock could grow hard from a woman’s poisonous words, but here we are. Grinning, I lower my nose to hers, ever so lightly brushing it. “You sure you’re not a pirate?”
She gingerly chews at the corner of her lip. “I don’t know what I am anymore, Jack.”
Nodding, I force myself to pull away with every molecule of my willpower, the memory of her hair tantalizing my skin. “I appreciate this information. But you’ll still stay in the brig until I know Idoneed you.”
And because I possess very little strength at this point in the conversation, I turn away before those jade eyes lure me in like an unforgiving Siren’s call.
“Youcannotbe serious, Jack,” she calls out, but I don’t look back. “Captain,” she yells, trying again, but I’m already exiting and pushing my back to the door once it’s closed.
I’m fully aware the crew will vote for her freedom within days, but I’ll leave her to her thoughts for now. Mythical being or not, Anne needs to realize who she’smeddlingwith.
It’s been a week since Mary released me from the brig after announcing the crew unanimously voted on my freedom. It irked me to the core when Jack ordered, not once but twice, for me to stay imprisoned despite everything I’d told him. But after days alone with my thoughts and with nothing else to do but my ship duties, I realized I couldn’t blame him much either. I pose as much liability to these mortals as the protection I can offer. And still, despite knowing I could escape my cell at any point, I stayed there to build trust with Jack. Little good it’s done me.
Seas, it’s been so long since I’ve felt this vulnerable and out of place. Most of my family have taken up lives amongst mortals, blending in and making the most of their eternities. But I’ve been content under the sea, protecting Atlantis and surfacing long enough to visit my family. It worked for me—until Atlantishad other plans. I’ve never imagined being this close to humans andmyselfwith them. And piracy? As on-theme as it is, I’ve always been meant for life in the water, not sailingonit. But this, all of it, it feels—right.
Mary and Red are the only two crewmates who have tried to converse with me. Others pass by, uneasy or shaken, and most ignore my presence andallowme to exist among them. But the one person I want more than anything in the known universe to acknowledge me has given little more than nods and mumbles of greetings.
Calico Jack Rackham.
What in the Seven Seas is it about him that makes me unable to look away? Toyearnfor his trust and approval?
Tskingat the thought, I press my forearms to the ship’s railing during my first much-needed breaks from swabbing the decks. The wind tousles my hair, and for once, the chilled sea mist coating my cheeks doesn’t have me frantically drying my face. I close my eyes, relishing the bliss for the first time since Atlantis swept me away. The scales come and go, but by this point, they’re familiar to the crew and they pay no mind. Their reservations toward me are warranted because they don’t know the power I possess.
It's too much to explain to them, and I plan to keep as secretive about the details as I can unless situations force me into it—like Jack almost drowning. A man clears his throat beside me, gruff and hoarse, scents of tar, gunpowder, and tangy rust wafting from him. Not Jack.
“Basking in the sun, nymph?” Ragnar’s voice asks.
I flutter open my eyes and crane my neck to look at his imposing form. “On a scheduled break, quartermaster. I assure you, I’m not idle.” Turning my gaze to the water, I sip my liquid rations.
“That’s not what I came to talk to you about.” Ragnar’s tanned, leathery fingers drum on the railing near my forearm.
