A Pirate's Curse (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix) (10 page)

“Excuse me?” She put her hands on her hips.
“Unless I am completely daft, the
Fiery Damsel
was about to tear this ship apart.”

He stuck out his chin.
“You’re mistaken.” He took a step towards her.

Hannah glared
. Blood trickling out of her right nostril.

“
You’ve got a bloody nose.” Even with a bleeding nose and a battered face, she was beautiful, a vision of beauty, but was she from heaven or hell?

“Yes.”
She ran her sleeve over her nose, smearing the blood on her shirt. “I can see that.” She stomped over to the bed and sat. “So, if you are going to beat me, get it over with.”

“Beat you?”
He stilled. “Is that…”

She tilted her chin.
“Yes, if you must know. Father beats me when I use my power.”

“The lashes?”

“Yes, damn it.”

He blinked.
Her chest heaved up and down. What kind of a man was her father?

“I’m
finally able to save someone with my powers, and I’m punished for it. You are no different than my father. Your crew would have been dead without me. I’m not a witch and I don’t cast spells.” She flopped on her stomach and lifted the back of her shirt. “So, get it over with. I don’t care. Your crew would have been dead without me.”

Slowly unfolding his arms, he edged over to the bed.
She jerked her head away, her shoulders shaking. Was she crying? Her back was stiff. Her hair covered her shoulders and her upper back, but failed to hide the faded angry red lashes and scarring her back.

He had half inclination to march down to the brig and whip the
flesh from her father’s bulbous body. How many times had he beaten her? Was it for using her powers or failing to use them?

Gazing at her naked back, his fingers itched to run over her silky skin and make her forget the pain, to let her know her body was to be worshiped, to be kissed.
He gritted his teeth. Damn, he was losing control.

He sat on the bed and Hannah sucked in her breath.
“How long have you possessed this power?”

“Why do you care?”

“Tell me lass.” He lifted his hand to move the hair out of her face, but she turned her head.

“I was born with it.
My ancestor was a gypsy queen who possessed magical powers and could move objects with her mind. I told you we don’t cast spells.” She sighed. “Just get it over with Kane.”

He clasped her shoulder and gently turned her around.
Her wet doe eyes studied him warily. He wanted to erase her pain, get her to trust him. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to the edge of the bed. “Your father despises your powers?”

“Yes.”
Her voice choked. “For not being able to use them properly. Because of me, my mother died.”

“Your father blames you?”

Tears misted in her eyes. Her nod was almost imperceptible.

“But why?”

“I…I…” She stammered, looked away. Her jasmine scent drifted over him, weeding away at his control.

She was in pain.
Bloody hell, why was he pushing her to talk about this? ’Twas cruel, but he had to know for the safety of his crew. “What did you do?”

“Carriages,” she whispered.

“Carriages?”

“Runaway horses.” She knotted her fingers together in her lap.

He frowned. “Runaway horses were pulling a carriage?”

“Lightning struck a tree. The horses spooked and took off running. The carriages came barreling down—” Her voice faded. She closed her eyes.

Kane’s heart wrenched.
Poor lass, she must feel so responsible. Hell, he would.

“We had been shopping.
I had gone with my father to the sweet shop, while my mother went across the street to the millinery. She wanted a new hat to wear to my aunt’s ball.”

A sick feeling settled low in Kane’s stomach.
“Ah, Hannah.”

“Kane,” she whimpered.
“I was eating a licorice whip when my mother spied us. She was wearing a jaunty green hat decorated with white ribbon. She waved to us, started across the street…”

“Then
came the carriages.”

She gulped visibly.
Closed her eyes. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. “The horses were upon her.”

Kane put up a hand to smooth down her hair.
She leaned against his shoulder and opened her eyes. “My father yelled, “Do not just stand there. Do something with those abominable powers of yours! Save your mother!”

“I tried to make the carriages turn in a different direction.
But they were coming so fast. So very fast. And I was so slow.”

“Shhh,” he soothed.
“You don’t need to say anything more.”

She stared blankly ahead as if she were back in the moment.
“The one thing that sticks with me is that silly green hat with the white ribbon lying smashed in the road.”

He heard a muffled sob.
He frowned. “How old were you when she died?”

“Seven,” she murmured.

The bloody Sassenach. The bastard had been abusing her since she was seven. He gave into temptation and moved her hair. “Is that what you want me to do? Beat you?”

“That’s what father always does
. Why would you be any different?”

“Because I
’m not him.” He clasped her shirt and pulled it down, covering her marks. She tensed beneath his touch. “I promise I won’t hurt you, lass.”

She flicked her hair and rolled onto her back and stared up at
him. Confusion clouded her eyes. “Why not? I could see by your face and your crew’s that you hate witches. Witches cast spells. I don’t. I’m descended from a gypsy queen.”

“Aye, so you’re not
a witch. You’re a gypsy. A beautiful one.”

Her eyes widened, but not with fear.
Gratitude filled them. They were alive with so much emotion, alive with a need, a hunger and an intensity that scorched the last of his resolve. She moistened her lips. “Kiss me.”

His iron will crumbled.
She wanted him. He groaned. He wanted to devour her mouth and then slowly remove her clothes, licking and tasting her naked flesh. But for now, he would have to be satisfied with a kiss. He stared at her pliable lips. Closing his eyes, he captured her lips and pushed them apart, wanting to taste her.

Her hands slid up his chest and she pulled him closer to h
er. His kiss became harder, passionate, demanding. He wanted to remember what she tasted like, savor this moment. Bloody hell, what had the lass done to him? Where was the man with the all the answers, the man with the perfect plan?

Her fingers slid around his neck and she pulled him down, holding him against her.
He could hear her blood rushing through her veins and her heart beat against his chest. He didn’t know whose was louder, his or hers. This lassie clouded his every judgment. Rather than hunting down Palmer and finding a cure, his thoughts focused on her, her lips, her curvy body, her soft feminine scent. She matched his fervor and her kiss was as desperate as his. She slid her fingers through his hair and he groaned. Tingles rushed over his back and he shivered. He wanted more of her, wanted to listen to her cry out his name, to hear her moan.

He slid his hand up her shirt and she trembled.
His hand clasped her breast and toyed with her nipple. She moaned, fanning his desire. The monster within him wanted her. All of her. No matter the cost. Who the hell was he fooling? ’Twasn’t just the vampire demanding to explore her secrets. He hungered for her, to feed on her to satisfy his every wicked impulse. 

He left her lip
s and kissed the edge of her mouth, moving toward her slender neck. Her blood pulsed in her veins. His tongue rolled over his elongated fangs. He kissed her neck and scraped her neck with his fangs. He wanted to stop but the monster within him wanted her, wanted to taste her coppery liquid to see if ’twas as sweet as the recesses of her mouth.

Someone pounded on the door.
“Capt’n.”

Kane
licked her skin, putting his mouth on her flesh, he sucked hard. Every impulse demanded he bite her, but he fought back, only allowing himself to suck her skin as a man, not as a vampire. 

Hannah groaned as
Kane slowly released her and peered down at her. She couldn’t take her eyes off his wicked lips and wanted him to kiss her. He pushed her hair behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful lass.”

She trembled a
s his fingers brushed over her skin, his dark eyes holding her captive. “I’ve a surprise for you.”

He bent over and brushed his lips over hers again.
She parted her mouth to deepen the kiss, but Kane pulled away and stood. Hannah sighed.

“
I’ll return shortly.”

Her fingers touched her bruised lips
, sensitive skin throbbing from where his stubble rubbed against her. Feeling like a harlot, she straightened her skewed shirt and covered her exposed breasts. “Where are you going?”

“You’ll see, lass.” A wicked gleam formed in his eye and he quickly exited.

Hannah rushed over to the mirror.
Her disheveled hair, puffy lips and red neck revealed her shame. What had she been doing? If Kane hadn’t pulled away, she’d not have stopped him, kissing, indulging in his spicy taste. She wanted more. So much more. To have him take her places where she had never dreamed of going. She crossed her arms across her chest. What was she thinking? He was a pirate. She barely knew him, yet, she let him take liberties with her that no other man dared. Aboard this ship, she was his for the taking? Had her powers taken a darker side?

On his ship, she used her powers more than she had in her entire life. Were there more to her powers than moving objects? Did they ignite sensual feelings for her or was it Kane?

Hannah straightened her hair and tucked her shirt into her trousers. Why was she so attracted to him? She had never experienced these feelings before and couldn’t even name the emotions swarming around her.

The door swung open and she jumped
as Kane strolled in with Cook just behind him. The aroma of hot food infiltrated the cabin and her stomach growled. Her mouth watered. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she smelled Cook’s latest creations. Cook brushed past her carrying a tray loaded with a platter piled with sliced salted pork, steaming mashed potatoes and a bottle of Chianti wine.

Kane
gave a slight bow. “We were to feast tonight. Unfortunately, Palmer attacked. But I had Cook serve up the meal for us before I go up and oversee repairs.”

“Says I,” Cook mumbled as he set the tray on Kane’s desk. “
’Tis not right. Not right at all.”

Hannah glanced at the laden tray and at Cook.
“What’s wrong?”

Kane strolled over to his desk and motioned his hand over the tray.
“I’m sure the meal is delicious, Cook.”

“Humph,” Cook straightened.
“You’d be the Capt’n.”

“Aye, I am.”

Cook shook his head and marched past Hannah. “One wit more, Capt’n and you’d be a halfwit.”

Kane knotted his eyebrows, his voice low.
“Cook.”

Hannah glared at Kane and softened her gaze at Cook’s bent back.
“I didn’t mean for you to go to all this trouble.”

Cook stopped and straightened his back.
He glanced over his shoulder, but faced forward. “’Tis no trouble, lassie. You saved us.” He opened the door and stared at the floor.  “You deserved better.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head toward the door.
“What did Cook mean that I deserved better?”

Kane shrugged.
“He meant he should have a more elaborate meal to thank you for what you did.”

Hannah studied the food and h
er traitorous stomach growled. She licked her lips, but a grim thought shot through her and she refused to move. “This isn’t a trick, is it?”

“
A trick?”

“
Cook seems to be upset with you. You didn’t poison it, did you?”

A
grin spread across his lip. “No one will harm you, not unless they want to feel my blade. Savvy?”

He
picked up a piece of salted pork and placed it on his tongue. “See love, the food is hot and delicious. I’d never poison you.”

His eyes darkened.
“I promise.” He held out his hand and she slowly allowed him to take hers. He pulled her towards him and peered down at her. His warm breath caressed her. She wanted him to kiss her again, to taste his lips again. “I promise I’ll never harm you.”

He bent his dark head and granted her wish.
His arm wrapped around her waist and molded her to his full length. She met his desire and kissed him, tasting the salt lingering on his tongue. Her hunger grew and she didn’t know whether ’twas for Kane or food.

Groaning, Kane lifted his head.
His masculine breath flamed her hunger. “You should eat, lass.”

She nodded.
He put his hand on her lower back and escorted her to his chair at the desk. She sat. Kane picked up the wine decanter and poured her a glass of Chianti. He dished up her plate with Cook’s vittles. “Eat lass.”

Cook’s strange behavior still haunted her
. “Does Cook often challenge you?”

He laughed.
“No, love, I’m the captain. My word is law.” He picked up a knife and fork and sliced his meat. “You’re not going to eat?”

Kane
stuck his fork into his mouth. Hannah licked her lips, her resolve weakening as she remembered the flavor of the salt pork from Kane’s kiss. She copied Kane and sliced her own thick piece of meat. The aroma drove her crazy and her empty stomach demanded she eat it.

“My mother used to fix us
salt pork back in Ireland.” He dipped a piece of bread in the gravy, soaking it. “Actually mutton.” Hannah wanted to lick the gravy around his lips, but Kane dabbed the liquid with a napkin. “She’d slowly roast it all day on an open fire. It would fall apart in your mouth.”

“She was a good
cook?” She chewed the meat and it melted in her mouth. 

H
e nodded, padding his lips with the napkin. “Grand, she was.” He placed the napkin in his lap. “Her mashed potatoes were legendary. Cook pleases me by using her recipe.”

She dipped her spoon into the mashed potatoes and took a bite.
The fluffy potatoes were delightful and creamy, but she detected a slight bitterness. The gravy masked the bitterness. This was Kane’s mother secret recipe?  

He stared.
“You remind me of her.”

She blinked.
“I do?”

“Aye, you do.
You’ve got her same fire. She fought for what she believed in, to save Ireland, to save her home and to save her family.” His eyes glistened, his mouth tight. He turned his head away and then gave her a weak smile.

She wanted to ease his pain, but
she watched helpless as anger flashed across his face. “She died in the war?”

He sighed and grabbed his goblet.
“Aye.” He rubbed the neck of the goblet with his fingers. “’Twas the beginning of the war.”

She swallowed the last bit of her potatoes, wishing she hadn
’t eaten so much as a large lump formed in her stomach. “How did she die?” Her own mother’s face flashed in her mind and she blinked back tears.

He
drained his wine. “I wasn’t there.” The ship rocked. He poured himself another drink, the wine splashing into the goblet. “William was there. He was just a lad. She died protecting him.”

The salted pork
and potatoes weighed like an anchor in her stomach. She rolled her tongue and the bitterness from the potatoes grew. She had trouble concentrating on his words and shifted in her seat. What was wrong with her? She had hardly had any wine. She managed to utter, “How?”

“
Palmer. He was a soldier in Cromwell’s army and they came upon our farm while father and I were gone. They wanted our skinny cow and scrawny chickens. Bloody scrawny chickens.”

Hannah’s eyes shut and she shook her head.
She jerked. “I’m sorry. Go on.”

He shook his head and snorted.
Taking another sip of wine, he murmured, “Mother grabbed a pitchfork and defended the cow.”

Hannah followed suit and drank.
Her heart beat fast, but her eyes slowly shut. She shook her head and put her hand on her forehead. “What? What did your mother? Wait. I meant what did Palmer do?”

“He shot her.
Point blank. William rushed out of the house with a sword, but Palmer easily disarmed him. The fool’s lucky Palmer didn’t do worse.” Kane rubbed the scar on his cheek.

Had Palmer given him that scar? She wanted to ask him, but her mouth would not move. She gritted her teeth,
“Did Palmer give you that scar?”

Her words slurred.
She wasn’t a hard drinker. This was ridiculous. 

“Aye, Palmer gave me this scar.”
He half smiled. She blinked. So, she
had
asked the question. Why couldn’t she remember?

“He left my wee brother holding my mother’s lifeless body in his arms.
I should have been there. Another one of my many mistakes.” His emerald eyes glistened and for a moment, a glint of red flashed in them. “Like tonight.”

Her heart broke and she wanted to touch him, to tell him how sorry she was, but her mouth remained frozen, and all she let out was a slight groan.
Her limbs hung limp at her side and she used her strength to raise her right hand, but her hand rebelled and remained flaccid. Her brain slowly churned. The cabin spun around. The mashed potatoes. He put something in the mashed potatoes. She tried to clench her fist, but her fingers failed to move. Her eyes opened and shut.

A red glint formed in his emerald eyes
. The lantern light flashed on his mouth, revealing elongated incisors. Oh, God, Kane was a vampire.

Kane brushed a strand of Hannah’s hair away from her flushed face, her eyes widening, she whispered, “No….please.” Her other words faded and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes. She was out cold. 

Kane held her close.
She knew. He should have drugged her wine rather than the potatoes. The wine would have worked faster, but he wanted to enjoy a little more time with her. A mistake. Another bloody mistake.

Releasing a sigh, he
lifted her and carried her to the bed. A moan escaped from her luscious lips. He stared at her flushed cheeks.

“Lass,” he whispered.

She gasped softly.

He gently put her down on the bed and kissed the top of her forehead.
Her slender neck stirred the darkness within him. The blood pumped through her veins, calling to him, and he wanted to dip his fangs into her, drinking his fill, tasting all of Hannah. His resolve cracked. His tongue licked her pulsing throat and his fangs scraped her skin, warm, salty, desirable. He sank his teeth into her vein and a drop of her blood trickled into his mouth. He sucked harder and her blood flowed through him. He had never tasted anything so thick, so sweet and so exhilarating. Was it due to her power? He didn’t care. He wanted her. He wanted the taste of her. He felt her heart beating slower and she moaned.

Her blood filled his wicked desire.
He wished he could turn her so she could be his forever, but biting his victims didn't turn them into vampires. Only drinking from Zuto’s cursed lake turned humans into vampires.

His eyes shot open and he jerked away.
He ran his hand through his hair and stared down at the two red wounds on her neck. “What the hell am I doing? I would never turn you, even if I could. You deserve better than this cursed life.”

Her blood surged through him and he wanted more.
His hunger weakened, but if he did not drink more blood, the hunger would grow into a billowing rage. He’d be unable to control it. Hannah wasn’t safe around him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, forcing the hunger down. He bent down and healed the wounds with his tongue, his saliva masking any hint he had bitten her. Running his hand down her neck, he murmured, “You deserve better, Hannah.”

He
left without looking back at Hannah. How could he have fed on her? William was right. He was a fiend.  

Up on deck, his men waited for him.
William leaned against the mast. “The lassie is asleep?”

“Aye,” Kane whispered.
He could still taste her warm blood and wanted more. He avoided looking at William. His brother would demand Hannah be moved out of his cabin, but Kane wanted her with him. Damn the curse! He had to get her off his ship to a safe port, back to London.

But he would decide when.

William tilted his head.
“She’ll hate you in the morning.”

Kane refused to answer. He jumped into the air with his men following him and led them to Tortuga where they would satisfy the bloody curse.