Page 35 of Of Magic and Rum
When I turn to look at him full-on, he’s staring at me steely-gazed. His eyes are glacial blue, but one is paler than the other, foggy even, as if he’s partially blind in his left eye. “And just what do we have to talk about? The weather? Proper flint-lock loading techniques?”
The latter wouldn’t be such a bad idea, considering I’ve only ever handled a blade in battle.
“Do not take the captain’s warnings lightly,rødtop,” Ragnar continues to beat his finger against the wood, his gaze unwavering.
I lift my hat enough to scratch my forehead. “Which one? He’s created quite the list against me. It’s become increasingly difficult to keep track.”
Ragnar lowers his face toward mine, his jaw clenching and accentuating the thin, gnarled scar at the corner of his chin. “If we feel the crew is in danger from you at any point, we will take action. The captain gives the orders, but the QM is the one to carry themout.” He points to his eyes with two fingers and then to my face. “Do we understand one another?”
My skin crawls. Mary always talks so highly of Ragnar, like they’re two peas in a pod and the best of friends, but this version of him is one I don’t wish to be on the wrong side of. Jack can be ruthless, cunning, and deceitful, but Ragnar is anarchy waiting to be unleashed. And now I know why Jack made him his right-hand man.
Sliding closer, I rise to the balls of my feet, bringing me another inch or two closer to the mountain that is Ragnar. “If I try to harm any of these people, I’llleave. But like I told Jack, I’ll also not hesitate to defend myself.”
It’s gone instantly, but there’s a hint of an upper lip twitch. “I’d expect nothing less. Glad to hear we’re on the same page.”After he gives a curt nod, he beats his fist once against the railing and is off to intimidate another unknowing poor soul.
Instinctively, I rub my throat.
“What the hell did Ragnar have to talk to you about? Looked intense.” Mary sidles beside me, hanging both arms over the ship’s side.
“Promises. Threats.” I shrug, sighing as more sea mist soothes my drying skin. “Nothing I’ve not gotten peculiarly used to since setting foot on this ship.”
Mary bumps into me. “It’ll get better. I promise. You’ve made the first step, and we haven’t brought in a haul yet.”
Chewing on my lip, I glance at Jack standing stoically at the helm. “Not so sure everyone is as quick to accept me, Mary.”
Mary grabs my face with one hand and turns it to look at her. “He’ll come around, too. Trust me. How can you bethisimpatient when you’ve been alive for hundreds of years?”
“Decades-old or centuries old, I’m still a living creature with emotions and feelings.” I bat her hand away and shove the rum bottle in my pocket. “Better get back to work.”
“Anne, I didn’t mean any offense, I—” Mary says with a frown, cutting herself short when she spots my warm smile.
“Yes, you did. And it’s alright. I’ll keep scrubbing this deck so clean I can see my reflection until something else warrants my attention.” I kick the bucket in front of me and drop to my knees.
Mary squats behind me, her arms wrapping around my torso, and she gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “Your passive aggressiveness is legendary, darling.”
I bite back a grin as I scrub the deck and watch Mary shout orders at several men who are holding the ropes limp instead of adjusting the sails as they should be.
An hour passes before I catch Jack staring at me from the opposite side of the ship. I expect him to quickly avert his gaze, to pretend he’d been leering at something else—anything butme, the traitorous sea nymph. But he doesn’t. Instead, he holds me captive in his eyes, the wind tousling his dark locks in wavy tendrils. I’ve been hunched over on my hands and knees, but I sit up straight, resting on my haunches and limply holding the scrubbing brush in my palm.
Then I hear it, distant at first but too recognizable to ignore. The melody is enough to tear me away from Jack’s lingering gaze because nothing else could’ve coaxed me. I leap to my feet, terror wrenching my spine, and sprint to the ship’s side, closing my eyes to focus on the overlapping voices catching in the wind. The haunting and eerie refrain has a breath hitching in my throat. And when I open my eyes, catching sight of the fog building from the sea’s depths, I sprint for the hull, pushing crewmates aside. The wind launches my hat from my head, and I don’t stop to retrieve it.
Sirens. Fucking Sirens.
“Jack,” I shout, breathless and frantic.
Jack pauses with his hands on the wheel, his jaw tightening. “What is it?”
“Everyone. Every single crew member except for me and Mary, you’re—” Pausing only long enough to catch my breath, I stare at Jack pleadingly. “—you’re in danger.”
Jack drums his fingers on the wheel’s pegs. “Why not you and Mary?”
“It won’t affect us because the call only persuades—” Gulping, I climb the stairs to stand in front of the pirate captain. “—mortal men.”
Jack’s squint deepens, his hands clenching the pegs now. “What’s happening, Anne?”
“Sirens,” I whisper. “Have you heard of them?”
A tick forms in Jack’s cheek, and he turns his gaze to the fog, which is nearing closer and closer to the ship. “Of course, I have, but?—”
