A Pirate's Revenge (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix) (5 page)

No sense denying his failure. His lord would know, and lies were dealt with swiftly. “O’Brien escaped.”

Maketabori strolled over to him and Zuto stood still. He refused to move even a finger and give Maketabori the satisfaction of the fear percolating inside him. His master towered over him, a sneer spread across his lips. He yanked Zuto’s hair, forcing Zuto to stare up at him. “You shall be punished.”

Zuto waited for the unbearable pain of bones broken, torn muscles, torched skin.

Maketabori released him and sauntered back to his chair. Zuto held his breath. Why hadn’t Maketabori beaten him? Something wasn’t right.

“I believe you need help,” his master said.

“Help?”

“Yes.” Maketabori grinned, a condemning smile that curled Zuto’s toes.

His lord snapped his fingers. “She’ll know how to insure the job is done.”

Zuto groaned. Not again.

Long, red-tipped fingernails gripped the back of Maketabori’s golden throne, followed by a movement of rustled skirts. Zuto’s heart pounded, and every muscle tensed. He’d rather be beaten and burned.

“Hello, Zuto.” A tall, curvaceous redhead sashayed out from behind Maketabori. Her red bodice pushed up her large breasts. Red slippers peered out from beneath a long, velvet gown of crimson. “I’ve missed you.”

He hadn’t missed her. If he didn’t see her or hear her overly sweet voice for another millennium, it would be one day too soon. “Natasa.”

Natasa pouted. “Ah, why the long face, handsome?”

Maketabori tilted his head. “He’s disappointed me. See that he does not do so again.”

Natasa smiled. Zuto’s gut twisted. He couldn’t get stuck with her at his side. Not again. She’d spoil everything, and he’d never get free from his perverted master.

“My Lord, I’ve cursed O’Brien’s brother,” Zuto said. “The spirit of Drakon will possess him during every full moon.”

“I do not recall giving you permission to resurrect the dragon. He’s not to be trusted.”

“He will do what is asked, my lord,” Zuto said. “I’ve told him that if he brings Hannah and her father to me then I’ll give him back his life.”

Maketabori raised an eyebrow. “You’ll give him back his life? You’ve not the power to do this.”

Zuto bowed his head. “Yes, my lord, but you do.”

“You made a bargain without consulting me? I’ll decide if a bargain will be made. I don’t trust you, Zuto, and believe you need to be under closer scrutiny.” 

“That’s where I come in,” Natasa purred. She rolled her tongue over her upper lip as if to tantalize him.

Zuto’s skin crawled. Once that small gesture had made his cock rock hard, but now it only filled him with revulsion.

She’d said she loved him, but he soon discovered she was seducing every demon in Maketabori’s court to improve her status. It worked and now, she was one of Maketabori’s most trusted spies.

“What good is a dragon…lover?” She strolled over to him and caressed his bicep with her nails.

He forced himself not to recoil.

“The dragon shall do my bidding and bring Knight and his daughter here.”

Maketabori scoffed. “You thought Captain O’Brien would do your bidding. Why do you think you’d fare any better with his brother or Drakon?”

“If I could leave the island…” 

“Silence!” Maketabori sliced his hand across the air. “You tried to escape one too many times, Zuto. And now you are making promises without me. All you had to do was hand over Captain Knight and his daughter. They need to pay with their lives for the death of my worshipers. If you’d had done as you were told, you’d be free from me forever. Such a small task—I thought even
you
could do it.”

The venom in his voice spurred Zuto’s curiosity. His master was desperate for their deaths, something he rarely showed over the demise of humans. What secret was he hiding? Did Natasa know? If he could discover why the god wanted Hannah and her father dead so bad, maybe he could use and exploit it to bargain for his escape. 

Maketabori raised his eyebrow as if he knew what Zuto was thinking. He patted one of the cobra-shaped torques on his bicep. “My snakes have not fed in awhile. You would more than satisfy their growing hunger.”

Each of the slender gold torques slid around Maketabori’s arm, the smooth bands turning into glistening scales. A silver tongue flickered out of a diamond-shaped head. Red eyes stared at Zuto. He fought the urge to flee and stilled his shaking legs. No demon could out run those evil serpents. “I’ll work with Natasa.”

Natasa laughed and slipped her fingers around his upper arm, lightly scratching him. “Oooh, it’s been so long. Too long.” She blew in his ear. “I love how your red eyes burn with passion for me. How your tongue worships me and how my tongue will worship you—starting with your toes, ankles, legs, and your magnificent cock. I can hardly wait to feel you inside me again.”

He shuddered, and she laughed. He curled his toes into the rocky terrain to keep from jumping out of his husk.

Natasa wrapped a lock of Zuto’s hair around her long finger. “My lord, if this task is completed,” she said, her voice too confident. “My reward shall be—”

“I’ll give you control of the Caribbean Seas and all the islands.”

Zuto wanted to break her finger in half. How the hell would he escape the bitch?

Natasa yanked her finger, tearing strands of his hair. He winced and had to press his arms to his sides to keep from back handing the Jezebel.

She ran her hand down his back. “Not the world?”

Don’t kill her.

“I am the
ruler
of the world. Don’t dare to challenge me, wench. You’ve not the power. I am your master.”

The ground beneath their feet rumbled, and both Zuto and Natasa stumbled. Zuto tried to right himself, but he slid around, his arms waving in the air. Damn Natasa! He wanted to put his fingers around her throat and squeeze and squeeze until her cheeks turned as red as her hair. 

“Enough.” Maketabori’s thundering voice overshadowed the crashing rocks and blasting volcanoes.

The grumbling ceased, and Zuto flung his hair out of his face. ’Twas Natasa’s damn fault. 

“If you fail, Natasa,” Maketabori said. “You’ll be banished to a demon hole for centuries.”

Natasa’s eyes widened. “Yes, my lord.”

For the first time, hope glistened within Zuto. He suppressed a smile. His lord had given him a way out—mistakes could be made and laid at her feet. But first he would discover Maketabori’s secret. 

Maketabori sat on his throne and gestured at Zuto. “Natasa will remain with you until I have Captain Knight and his daughter at my mercy. Do not fail me.”

He waved his hand, and Zuto was back on his island, but this time, he wasn’t the only demon.

“Ah, it’s beautiful.” Natasa walked along the beach. Her small footprints marred his beautiful white sand. “Where are your slaves?”

“I don’t possess any slaves.”

She whirled around. “You have grown soft. Where are Captain Palmer and the little witch?”

“I am not soft, Natasa. Palmer’s reckless and fails to follow my instructions.”

She took off a slipper, dipped a toe into a rolling wave, and splashed water into his face.“Maybe you utter poor instructions.” 

He wiped the stinging salt from his eyes. “I don’t utter poor instructions.”

“If you didn’t, I would not be here.” She put her hands on her hips. “Now where are those slaves?”

He refused to allow her to hurt his people. The natives and the crew of the
Fiery Damsel
were his. Only he could punish his people, and he’d never let a demon whore hurt them. “Palmer and his crew are not slaves,” he said. “They’re docked on the other side of the island.”

“’Tis why you fail, Zuto. Slaves live in fear and will do anything to avoid pain and please their masters.”

He clamped his jaw tight to keep from arguing. He would not fail again, and he didn’t need her meddling.

She drew her fingers up his naked chest. “Now, take me to them.”

“Fine.” Zuto shuddered at her touch. He clasped her hand and shoved it away. She only laughed.

He had wanted her once, had desired to bury himself inside her, but she was cold, her heart black. He craved something more than indulging in her womanly secrets. But their affair had ended long, long ago.

He stomped down the beach, longing to jump into the ocean and get her sickly sweet scent off him. She wound her arm around his, and her nearness and intimate touch sent aversion pulsating to every nerve. His fingers itched to grab her hair, then shove her into the rolling tide and drown her. But instead, he balled his fists and kept his arms clamped to his side.

Besides, she was one of Maketabori’s favorites. A torturer. A spy. A traitor. He needed to learn to endure her touch or lose the opportunity to discover what Maketabori was hiding. Natasa liked gossip and when she indulged in love making, she lost all inhibition.

William took a breath and inhaled sweet lavender. Was he lying in a soft field of flowers? His eyes fluttered open, and he was surprised to stare up at a lass. He was lying on her curled up legs. She was slumped up against the wall, her dress stained with blood. Bloody hell, was she hurt?

He rolled to the side and winced. Stitches pulled in his upper back, and soreness riddled through his body as if every muscle had been stretched, strained, and twisted. A memory of the lass pulling an arrow out of his back tugged at him, and he groaned. ’Twas not her blood staining the front of her dress. ’Twas his.

He shivered and rubbed his arms to warm his bare flesh.

Damnation.
 

A blue-green dragon tattoo adorned the middle of his chest. Red eyes glittered, and its mouth curled into a snarl, revealing sharp, jagged teeth. Dark green wings spread across his nipples while the body ran along his sternum and the tail hung past his belly button. He ran his shaking hand over his chest, expecting to feel scales, but his fingers glided over smooth skin. Was this what he looked like when he was the dragon? Curse Zuto. 

The lass smiled down at him, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her beautiful violet eyes. Last night, she hadn’t looked on him with fear, but with concern. He folded his arms across his chest, not wanting her to see the abomination. 

“
Bonjour
,” she said.

Dark, blue-black hair framed her heart-shaped face. He had the urge to run his fingers through the thick strands and feel the softness.

“Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling well, thank you. I’m sorry about your dress.”

She chuckled. Blood caked her delicate hands. Her bodice outlined her curvy body. He shifted and sat up. He crossed his ankles and covered his erect cock, praying she hadn’t seen it. Kane, Ronan, Doc, and Sean all slept around a glowing fire. They still must be groggy from feeding on human blood last night.

The dreary dampness of the cave coated William’s skin. Wind blew, and the fire flickered. But the warmth flowing onto his body failed to penetrate the chill seeping into his bones. He shivered and rubbed his arms again. He wasn’t groggy. No, eating a terrified horse hadn’t made him groggy. Just full.

Her brows furrowed. “What is on your chest?”

“Nothing.” Heat rushed over his cheeks. “Blood.”

“Let me see.” 

She reached over him, and her body pressed against his chest, pushing him slightly. Pain stabbed into his back, and he hissed.

“Are you still hurt?”

“No,” he lied.  

“Fine, do not show me.” She reached past him. “I am only getting my satchel.” She handed it to him. “Here, take it. I brought some of my brother’s clothes.” Her gaze flickered over him, and she blushed. “They may be a little small for you, but they should fit.” She glanced over her shoulder. “There is a little stream further in the cave. I will wash up while you change.”

He nodded. “Aye.”

She clasped his arm. “Can you dress yourself?”

He wrenched away. “Go wash.” 

She stood and hurried to the back.

His arm tingled where she’d touched him, but he didn’t want her help. He was a seasoned warrior, not a sickly whelp who needed a nursemaid, even a beautiful one. 

Ignoring the pain in his back, he struggled to stand and leaned against the cave. The cold froze his fingers, and he fumbled while slipping into the pair of trousers. Grand. The trousers fit too snug around his waist and were about three inches too small. But at least they covered his erection. He closed his eyes, trying to fight back the pain in his back.

“Here.”

William opened his eyes. Kane handed him the blue shirt that Mariah had brought him.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Hard to sleep without Hannah.” Kane nodded. “Interesting tattoo. It looks like you when—”