Page 3 of The Lost Fae
The clear liquid sloshes in the glasses as she sets them against the table and slides them over to our end. She flicks back her dark curls, sitting in the plush seat across from us. Johanna hovers, spinning her axe in her hand as if it would fall off if she stopped fiddling with it.
"So we aren't prisoners?" I ask.
"Well, until we can rule out a few things I wouldn't say that you'renot."She sips from her glass. "Drink."
This is the literal oldest trick in the book. There is no way on earth that I would drink from this cup. What if she poisoned it? Or slipped in something that would knock us both out? No, thanks.
Lincoln reaches for his cup, bringing up to his nose. He inhales deeply.
Vodka.
And how can you be certain?
Well seeing as my own brother was able to drug me, I can't be. I thought I was well versed in poisons but apparently not as well as Kai.
I push my cup forward and fold my arms over my chest.
The captain shrugs and takes another drink. "Suit yourself."
"What is your name? What should we be addressing you as?" Lincoln starts. He holds his posture well, his shoulders straight as a soldier would. I like to think that the Captain sees that in him. Sees him as what he is,what we are. Deadly. I know Lincoln doesn't want it, but the mere thought of striking fear in their hearts feels suddenly thrilling.
That's the Claiming speaking. You need to get your head on right before this entire thing goes south.But there is a hint of amusement in his voice. Lincoln's enjoying watching me squirm.
"Captain Beatrice Ann," Johanna says, stomping her foot and standing proudly behind the captain. "Queen of the seven seas and famous for her unmatched ability to sink enemy ships."
Beatrice Ann... Beatrice Ann. God above that name is oddly familiar.
"Captain Beatrice," Lincoln addresses her formally, "can you tell us where we are?"
"If you think you can act your way out of my suspicions you would be wrong. Let's be honest here. Why were you on my beach?"
"Do not lie to her." Johanna shakes her head. "She shaped the future of piracy. She demands your respect. Before her everyone else hid from royal ships instead of standing up to them."
Captain Beatrice waves her hand at her lacky. But Johanna bounces behind her, biting at her bit. The woman, despite her age, is like a rabid chihuahua, if I don't watch her, she'll be nipping at our ankles any minute.
"We're not lying," I groan out.
"So we are just supposed to assume that you had no plans on attacking my ship. Of robbing me of my supplies or every earthly good I've gained?"
"Right."
"Honey, I've met your kind before. You aren't fooling anyone."
"And we aren't trying to," Lincoln cuts in. He loops his arm around my chair, holding the back of it tightly. The metal cuffs on his arms scrape noisily against the wood, drawing Johanna’s attention to them.
"Do you think I would have come to raid your stupid boat in a fucking dress and these stupid heels?" I lift my feet up to show off the impressive height of the stilettos.
"I've raided ships in fancier shoes than that," the captain laughs.
"Look, we got a little lost and somehow managed to end up on your beach. We'll be happy to get out of your hair." Lincoln's tone is much gentler than mine.
"Do you think I'll let you leave so easily!?" Beatrice slams her hand on the table, rattling the glasses. "I am Beatrice Ann. You'll leave when I say you can."
Beatrice Ann. I chew on my lip with the nagging feeling that somehow, I know her. I repeat her name again and again inside my head. Who is she? How do I know this name?
Beatrice Ann, pirate captain. Thoughts string together inside my head connecting me back to the shallowest of memories. The concept of her comes rushing back.
"Oh my god. I know you." I snap my fingers, sitting forward.
