Page 36 of Of Magic and Rum
I press a hand to Jack’s face and turn him toward me tofocuson me. “I’mreal, Jack. So are they. And we only have moments before their song falls on your ears.”
The gleam in his eyes tells me I have him at first, but skepticism and mistrust soon take over, and he brushes my fingers away. “So, weignorethem. Shove cloth in our ears if we have to. They can’t possibly affect every man on board.”
“No, Jack.” Grabbing his face again, I hold his gaze usingbothhands. “There’s nothing you can do to stop it. We must secure all of you; it’s the only way.”
“Secure us?” Jack nuzzles against my touch for a fraction of a second but grimaces soon after. “What do you mean? Like with bloody rope?”
“Yes,” I breathe, tightening my grip against his cheeks. “Please. Now isn’t the time to let your stubborn-ass attitude overshadow what’s happening. I don’t want you todie, Jack.”
He lifts a hand and lightly trails a fingertip down my forearm, still looking at me. “And I suppose you can’t reason with them? Being maidens of the sea and all that?”
It’s the first time he’s openly discussed it since we spoke in the brig, and my heart is soaring at the most inconvenient time.
“No. I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.” Goosebumps litter my skin, and he’s still tantalizing it with his touch.
Jack searches my face before he surveys the clueless crew going about their business behind me. “Alright. There’s extra rope in the back corner below deck. Get Glog to show you where it is and bring it up. Meanwhile, I’ll tell the crew why we’re asking them to be tied to heavy, immovable objects.” Jack pinches the bridge of his nose.
After nodding vigorously, I give Jack’s cheeks a final squeeze before I slip across the deck toward the stairs. The Siren song has grown so loud that several men are already lured toward it, eyes wide and entranced, feet dragging across the wood.
When I get below deck, Glog stares up bewildered, a metal spoon dripping liquid within his grasp. “Was that you singing up there, Anne?”
It’s not as loud down here, and I pat his face, snapping his attention away from the sound. “No. And I don’t have time to explain, Glog. But you’re all in danger, and I need you to help me lug some rope on deck. Can you do that, please?”
Glog’s eyes keep rising skyward, and I have to snap my fingers at him. “Yeah. Yes. I can do that.”
With coils of rope wrapped around each arm, we cart them upstairs. Mary is already tying several men to barrels filled with cannonballs, shoving them back whenever they try to stand and move toward the melody.
Jack is still at the helm, focused on something in front of him, head twitching every other second. I point at a spot for Glog to sit and quickly get to work, tying him while Mary secures Duke despite his barking protests.
I’m heading for Jack next when he turns toward me, his nostrils flaring and teeth bared. “If this is a trick to steal the ship or run us into the ground for your own?—”
I slap a hand over his mouth before he can finish, my stomach tingling at the feel of his beard tickling my palm. “It’s not a trick, Jack. And if it is, Mary will see that you all are safe. Right, Mary?” I shout to her but keep my eyes fixed on Jack.
“It won’t come to that, Captain, but you know I’ll keep your balls intact,” Mary yells back, tugging on the final knot she’s tied around Red.
“Come on, Jack,” I whisper, holding my hand toward the anchor pull and lifting the rope into view.
He runs a knuckle under his bottom lip before relinquishing his hold on the wheel and taking a seat, encircling his arms around the device. I kneel beside him and start winding the rope several times, making the appropriate knots to keep him still.
“You’ve done this before. My, my, aren’t you always full of surprises?” Jack’s voice is like a caress—silky, smooth, and the faintest hint of gravel near the shell of my ear.
I pull the last knot extra tight, making him grunt, and flash him a crooked smile. “Shut up, Jack.”
Our noses are a breath apart. I can count the golden flecks in his eyes amidst the mahogany, and he tilts his head to one side. “You certainly like to say my name a lot lately,” he says.
“It’s a simple, strong name. I like saying it.” I pan his face, noting the line of hair missing in his right brow from a small scar.
“Anne is simple and strong too, you know.” Jack sighs and beats the back of his head against the anchor hold, his knees bouncing. The Sirens’ song is now affecting him. “What’s your real name?”
My throat tightens, and I fight an internal battle between desiring nothing more than for him to knowmeand adoring that he knowsthisversion of me, the pirate version. “Rhode,” I whisper into his ear.
Jack waves his hand, dismissing the name. He bumps his head against mine like a lion with his lioness. “You’ll forever be Anne to me.”
My heart plummets, soars, and blazes into the sky.
“And you’re going to—” Jack winces and pulls at the ropes, the Sirens’ call booming across the deck now. “—you’re going to want to add another rope. Because I’m not sure how long this will hold me.” He flexes his arms, loosening one knot, and I quickly scramble for another rope, winding it around him. “Don’t let any of the crew get loose. Promise me.”
Mary struggles with Ragnar at the mast, shoving him back as he digs his heels against the deck to push closer to the sound. All the male crew members writhe beneath their bindings, wailing over not being able to answer the Sirens beckoning them.
