Page 41 of Of Magic and Rum
The wind catches her hair when we pull away, making a fiery tendril blaze between us. I secure it behind her ear, and an uneasy yet calming sensation settles around us like a dull shockwave. It’s enough to make us stumble, and I press a hand to her back, squinting at her to gauge if she felt it, too.
“Did you—” I start, searching those mossy eyes for an answer.
“Feel that?” She finishes for me. “Yes,” she whispers.
“Please, we relent, we relent,” the merchant captain shouts, falling to his knees in a defeated heap with his hands clasped behind his head.
Ragnar stands over the captain, the point of his blade a hair from the man’s nose. “When only you and three of your men remain,nowis when you surrender?”
“We—we can still get back home with this many. Please, the boy is dead. I never wanted any of this to happen,” the captain pleads, tears staining his dirt-ridden cheeks.
Ragnar shoves the point of his sword into the man’s sternum, making him cry out.
After squeezing Anne’s hand, I turn to the scene unfolding before us, dragging the point of my cutlass dramatically across the deck as I walk. “I don’t recall you sounding as apologeticwhen you were telling uspiratesto get the fuck off your ship.” Moving in front of the captain, I poise on the blade. “Nor when you called me a disgrace of an ex-merchant.”
The captain clasps his hands together in prayer. “Please. Please, I beg you. I have a family.”
Ragnar growls beside me, still thirsty for blood.
Grasping Ragnar’s shoulder, I coax him back and bend forward to make the captain look at me. “You should be eternally grateful I’m feeling merciful today. But remember this: you’ll be hard-pressed to encounter another pirate captain with the same scruples. You might want to re-think your life’s choices,familyman.” Standing straight, I shove my boot into his chest. “Round up the rest of the cargo, and let’s get the hell out of here.”
Anne sheathes her sword and rejoins me at my side, exhaling a haggard breath. “Ninety-five percent, huh?”
Smirking, I ignore her jab and wipe my sleeve over a patch of dirt on her cheek, swiping it away. “You’re quite the sight with a sword in your hand.”
“Oh, yeah?” Grinning like a vixen, she strolls past me, brushing her hip against mine. “You should see me underwater.” And she leaves me with that gem, making her way to Mary, Red, and the rest, checking on them.
I’ve believed in magic since my late mother told me bedtime stories about hydras, epic heroes, and flying horses. And while I can’t place or make sense of what settled around us after that kiss, something in my gut tells me that it was some form of acceptance—by theuniverseitself.
The crew moves around me, hauling loot or limping toward Aranck for assistance with the few injuries we took from the merchants. I’m carrying a sack on board, but I focus on Jack. Something happened during that kiss. And not just a spark between us, but something far beyond even what I, an ancient being, could comprehend. It’s made me all the more curious about him—ravenous for him. I’ve rarely befriended mortals during my time and have never been with one romantically. But Jack Rackham is more worthy of godhood as a human being than half the actual deities I know.
Jack busies himself with barking orders at the crew, directing which items to store below deck. I’m listless and unmoving, when Mary elbows me, arching her thick brows once I finally look at her.
“Where in the flying hell is your mind?” Mary squints an eye and darts her gaze in the direction I’d been staring before I can look elsewhere.
The burlap sack in my grasp falls to my feet in a heap, and I’m tracing my middle finger over my lips a breath later. “He kissed me, Mary.”
“You’re saying that like it was the first time.” Mary lifts my abandoned bag to the top of the crate she’s carrying and ushers me to walk in front of her.
“No. I mean,reallykissed. It was—” I’m at a loss for words and walk across the planks to The Revenge in a daze, instinctually ducking below riggings and avoiding barrels sticking out in the walkways.
Mary rests the crate on a barrel and grabs the crook of my arm, halting me. “You’re actually put off over this—like head in the clouds, kitten with a ball of yarn type level.”
She’s right. Thishasdistracted me. His absence has made me jittery, and I feel like I’m endlessly swimming circles around the ship.
“It’s fine. I’mfine.” I yank the sack from the crate. “Everything is just delightful.”
Mary snorts and chuckles, following me below deck to store our crates. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but not me. Only cure for what’s eating at you, Miss Bonny, is a good fucking from our resident pirate captain.” Mary pats my cheek and barks with laughter as she walks away.
Using my boot, I kick a barrel with a disgruntled sigh. I’m almost a thousand years old and perfectly capable of controllingurges. She’s speaking to me like I’m an adolescent girl. Jack isn’t the first handsome, charismatic, intelligent warrior—my thighs pinch together, heat pooling in my belly.
Seas. Iamgone for him.
“I heard you were quite the spectacle on that merchant ship,” Glog says, jotting in a journal as he takes inventory of the loot. “That your skills with a sword saved most of the crew?”
The heat moves from my stomach to my cheeks, and I smile humbly. “It wasn’t just me.Everyonecontributed to that victory.”
“Modest, too. You really are a gem, aren’t you?” Glog pauses with a quill pressed to the page, eyeing me for some form of response. When I can’t muster one, he licks the quill’s tip, grins, and continues writing.
