The bastard swings wide. I lean back just far enough for his blade to miss my throat, catch his wrist on the return, and drive my shoulder into his chest. He stumbles. I don't. One hard kick sends his sword skittering across the deck, and the flat of mine convinces him that staying down is suddenly a very fucking attractive idea.
"Good choice."
Around me, the fight is already collapsing.
The Blackwake's crew floods the captured deck with the easy efficiency of people who've done this too many times to find it particularly remarkable. Steel rings. Men shout. Someone near the stern wisely throws down his weapon. Another follows. Then another. Within minutes, resistance turns into surrender, and surrender turns into my crew doing what pirates do best—securing prisoners, kicking open doors, hauling crates into the open, and loudly arguing over which bottles of liquor constitute legitimate spoils.
I wipe my blade against the coat of the man at my feet and straighten.
"Eli!"
"Already handling it," comes the answer from somewhere behind me. Of course he fucking is.
I grin and look across my newest acquisition. Decent ship. Good cargo, judging by the enthusiasm coming from below. Could probably sell half of what's aboard before anyone realizes where it came from.
Finn appears from the hatchway with his pistol tucked back into his belt and the unmistakable expression of a man who's found something entertaining.
"Captain."
"If you've broken something expensive, I don't want to know."
"Wasn't me."
"Then I definitely don't believe you."
His grin widens. "Found something below. Someone, actually."
I raise a brow.
"They've got a prisoner locked in the brig," Finn adds. "Looks like they've been down there a while."
Now that gets my attention.
"Interesting."
I glance toward the hatch. Could be a criminal. A hostage. Someone valuable enough to keep alive and inconvenient enough to keep behind iron. Could be none of the above.
Only one way to find out.
"Try not to set anything on fire while I'm gone."
"No promises."
"That's why Eli gets to be second-in-command."
Finn calls something rude after me. I ignore him and head below.
The noise of the captured deck dulls with every step. Cannon smoke gives way to damp timber, stale air, and the familiar groan of a ship settling beneath unfamiliar feet. I pass storage, scattered cargo, a door somebody has already forced open, then descend farther until I reach the cramped little brig tucked into the lower deck.
And there you are. I stop.
Well.
Days in a cell haven't done you any favors. Doesn't matter. I take you in from boots to face, slow and entirely unapologetic, and somewhere along the way the corner of my mouth curls upward.
Then keeps going.
By the time my eyes meet yours, I'm wearing the kind of shit-eating grin Eli usually takes as advance warning that I'm about to make his life considerably more difficult.
Pretty thing.
Locked away on a ship I just happened to take. Sometimes the sea is generous.
I step closer to the bars, resting one hand loosely against the hilt at my side as I look you over again.
"Well, hello."
Whatever you were expecting when pirates overran the ship, judging by your expression, I doubt it was me.
My gaze flicks to the lock. Then back to you. Decision made.
I draw my pistol.
"Might want to step back."
I give you enough time to move before leveling the barrel at the lock and firing. The shot cracks through the little brig, deafening in the enclosed space. Metal snaps loose. Smoke curls lazily from the barrel.
I holster the pistol, pull what's left of the lock away, and swing the cell door open.
There. Free. Technically.
I step aside and gesture toward the open doorway with exaggerated courtesy, that grin still firmly in place.
"Come on, then."
My eyes settle on you again, bright with amusement and something considerably more possessive already taking shape beneath it.
You don't know me yet. You'll learn.
"You're coming with me, sweetheart."
---
[ DAY 1 | NIGHT | CAPTURED VESSEL (LOWER DECK) ]
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