Lock (39 page)

“I came here to tell you, but I ain’t getting off the horse. Call for yours and I ride out of here.”

“Talk!”

“First, Sparrow is not hurt and she’s not dead.”

Lock felt as if a weight had been lifted from his belly. “Where is she?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Lock’s teeth clenched and he reached for the horse. Ilias kicked the animal away.

“Ilias—”

“I’m risking my life coming to you at all! I know you’re a killer, and so does Sparrow. That’s why she left!”

“What are you talking about?”

“She told me she couldn’t stand living on the Lady Fire anymore. She said she couldn’t stand seeing what you’ve become.”

“She said that to
you
?” Lock wasn’t sure if he was more angry at Sparrow or himself. She’d discussed him with another man. She’d confided in Ilias, but not in him.

“She told me many things, and I’m glad she did. I’m saying this because I consider Sparrow a friend and I know she’s in love with you. Maybe if you know her reasons for leaving, you’ll stop pirating and try to make yourself a decent man for her, if you can. Maybe you won’t. I don’t know. Maybe you love yourself more than you can ever love her. If that’s the case, then it’s better she left.”

“Who the hell are you to be saying this to me?”

“I know. I’m a pirate, too, or at least I was. I’m not returning to the ship, either. I’m going back to my family. I don’t want to end up like you, Lock. If I ever find a woman who loves me, I don’t want to lose her because I’m a murdering pirate who only cares about stealing other people’s goods. I don’t want to be cutting off boys’ fingers and constantly watching my back because nearly everyone I know wants to kill me. I don’t want to end up on an auction block in Begonia—”

“I understand!” Lock waved his hand. “You’ve come this far, so at least tell me where she is so I can talk to her.”

“I can’t.”

“If you don’t, I’ll cut your throat.”

“You’d have to catch me first. Your horse is out there, and I’d have a head start.”

“I’d catch you.”

“While you’re hunting me you could be finding Sparrow. If you really want to kill me, you’ll probably do it no matter what I say, but how do you think Sparrow would feel about it?”

“She need never know,” Lock snarled, though he already knew he couldn’t kill the ape-like pirate. Sparrow considered the man a friend, and when he found her, he couldn’t keep such a secret, not without betraying her again.

“I’m going, Lock. I hope you don’t follow me. I hope you say to hell with the Lady Fire and go find the real lady who loves you. If you do find her, I hope you don’t hurt her again. She doesn’t deserve it, and she’s much too good for you.” Ilias grinned. “I can say that since you’re not my Captain anymore.”

“Is she still on land? She didn’t sail off on another ship, did she?” Lock demanded.

“I don’t think she wants to set foot on another ship right now. Yes, she’s still on land.” Ilias kicked his horse to a gallop.

“Ilias!” Lock bellowed, but the man disappeared over the hill.

Lock whistled for Sea Storm and rode him back to the dock where he stepped on deck and called for the crew. The sleepy pirates gathered on deck.

“I’m leaving the Lady Fire,” Lock told them.

“What for?” someone shouted.

“Likely to find that wench,” chuckled another.

Lock went to his cabin and packed his few belongings. The first mate followed.

“Looks like this is your vessel now, if you can keep it,” Lock told him.

“Oh, I plan on keeping it.” The man folded his arms across his chest. “You’re a fool, Lock the White. All this for a woman.”

Lock slung the leather bag of healing supplies Shea-Ann had given him over his shoulder and left the ship. He didn’t bother telling the first mate he was leaving as much for his own sake as for Sparrow’s. It would have been a waste of time because the man would never understand. Lock was only grateful he’d learned enough from Sparrow and Shea-Ann to see the truth in Ilias’s words.

He had to choose between Sparrow and piracy. There was no competition.

He enjoyed the adventure and power of commanding a ship, but it lost its luster if it meant a life without Sparrow.

On shore, he mounted Sea Storm and rode from the dock without looking back.

Sparrow braided Opal’s hair, keeping her eyes fixed on the dark tendrils, though her thoughts wandered toward Lock again.

It had been over four months since she’d left the ship. That first night she’d come to the gypsies and Lock had searched their camp for her, she’d been torn between wishing he’d find her and terrified that he would. The gypsies had disguised her well, dressing her as an old man, padding the clothes she’d borrowed from one of their men, caking her face with clay to create wrinkled, dark skin, and hiding one of her eyes with a patch. She hadn’t even recognized herself when she stared at her reflection in a looking glass. Lock hadn’t know her at all. Sea Storm had nearly given her away, however, with an affectionate poke of his nose.

Watching Lock search the camp that night, she’d been unable to keep her eyes from him. He’d looked genuinely concerned and seemed desperate to find her. If she had been in his place and he’d been missing, she’d have been nearly insane with worry. She wished she could at least have eased his mind. She’d wanted to dive into his arms and never let go, but it couldn’t be. If she’d revealed herself to him, he would have forced her back to the Lady Fire, and she couldn’t stand another day on the ship. He was a pirate and had chosen a life on board the Lady Fire over one he’d planned with her.

“Hurry up, Sparrow,” Opal said. “When you’re done braiding my hair, I’ll do yours then we have to get to the tavern before sundown.”

“Sorry. My mind was drifting.”

“Lock again?”

“I can’t help it.”

“He was very handsome. I remember that night he came to the camp looking for you. He had a beautiful body, so tall and strong. Was he terribly good at making love?”

Sparrow swatted the girl’s shoulder. “I told you to stop asking me about that. I don’t discuss such things.”

“You know, it’s funny how such a modest woman took to tavern dancing as well as you have. I’ve been doing it since I was a girl, and the men throw more money at you than they do at me.”

“They do not.”

“Imagine how much you’ll make when you really know how to dance.”

Sparrow tied off the braid and turned so Opal could fix her hair. “I’m glad you’re teaching me.”
If only Lock could see the farm girl now
, Sparrow thought. The dances Opal taught her were nearly as tempting as the Daggers of Desire.

The women finished dressing then shared a horse to the village. They’d made camp on the outskirts of the settlement four days ago. Sparrow and Opal made arrangements with the owner of the tavern and had been dancing there for the past two nights. The men who frequented the place were not only local villagers, but hunters and trappers who made their living in the surrounding woods. The group could get rough and rowdy at times, particularly when they had too much to drink, but the owner had a tall, young stable worker who kept order in the tavern by night. The previous evening, one of the men had tried to follow Opal and Sparrow after their performance, but the women had nearly clipped off his ears with the daggers they carried. Prem, an expert at throwing daggers, had been training Sparrow, and she liked the idea of learning to defend herself with a weapon. In the line of work she and Opal had chosen, self protection was necessary.

“I really like the new dresses we made,” Opal said, smoothing the lavender fabric over her narrow hips as they dismounted and left the horse outside the stable.

“The silk is very nice,” Sparrow agreed, lifting the skirt of her own sky blue dress so the mud wouldn’t ruin the hemline.

They walked to the back door of the tavern that opened to the kitchen.

“Evening.” Leah, the full-breasted serving woman greeted them with a smile. “Room’s full tonight. Cook’s in a rotten mood.”

Sparrow glanced at the short, gnarled old man stirring a pot of stew over the fire.

“Good evening, Cook,” Sparrow said.

The man grumbled and waved a hand without turning to her. She grinned and Opal raised her eyes to heaven.

“You’re just in time. A few of the regulars have been asking about you.” Leah grabbed two steaming bowls Cook ladled out for her and bustled to the next room.

Laughter and conversation drifted through the open door along with the sound of a flute and drums. The tavern owner’s sons had been entertaining their father’s guests for years, and their music accompanied the women when they danced. Sparrow and Opal removed their cloaks and followed Leah through the door. The tables and seats by the bar were filled. Several of the men cheered upon seeing the gypsies.

Opal and Sparrow danced together at first, the center of the floor becoming a whirlwind of lavender and blue silk. The silver and gold jewelry on the women’s wrists and ankles chimed to the sound of the flute and drums as they spun and swayed their hips. For the next couple of hours, Sparrow and Opal took turns dancing and gathering the coins tossed on the floor.

Sparrow left the room for a moment to change into a costume of sheer black silk pantaloons and a beaded vest that just covered her breasts, leaving her curved arms and sleek abdomen bare. She draped a long, maroon veil over her head. The material hung to her sandal-clad feet. When she returned, Opal was just finishing her dance. While her friend left to change her clothes, Sparrow stood in the center of the room, and to the sound of the flute, began a sensual dance she and Opal had been working on. She spun, the veil floating around her. She slipped it from her head, and opened her arms, parting the maroon silk and revealing the scanty costume beneath as she wiggled her hips. Men laughed and banged their mugs on the table. She jumped lightly onto one of the tables and swirled the veil over the heads of the wide-eyed patrons before she dropped it and shimmied, her arms moving like liquid. Sparrow smiled, genuinely enjoying herself, and knelt on the table. She bent backwards, her arms stretching sensually over her head. She nearly toppled over when she found herself staring into a pair of shocked, angry and terribly familiar blue eyes.

She righted herself, her heart pounding from more than just the dance. It had been months since she’d seen those soul-reading eyes, that shock of brown and white hair, that disgracefully sensual body…

“Lock!” She scrambled away, but he grasped her off the table and into his arms.

The patrons shouted. Across the tavern Leah screamed for help.

“Lock, let go of me!” Sparrow bellowed, struggling, but his arms tightened around her like warm bands of steel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled. “Dancing like some SothSea trollop!”

“As if you’re one to talk!”

“Put her down!” Some of the men shouted. “She ain’t finished yet!”

“You’re all finished!” Lock growled.

“Hey! Put that girl down!” The tavern owner approached, wiping his hands on a tattered towel, the lantern lights reflecting off his balding head. “I’ve told you men a thousand times to keep your hands to yourselves!”

“Get away from her!” Opal leapt on Lock’s shoulder, grasped a handful of his hair, and pulled hard.

“Let go, you crazy bitch!”

“Not until you put her down!”

Lock shoved Opal who fell onto a nearby chair, strands of his hair still caught in her fists.

“That’s the second time I’ve lost part of my scalp over you, girl!” Lock’s furious eyes focused on her. “And I’m not putting you down!”

“Cris!” the tavern owner hollered, and a tall, thickly-built youth charged into the tavern, bits of straw caught in his lank blond hair, manure smeared on his trousers. He flew at Lock’s back, screeching a war cry. Lock kicked backwards, Sparrow still in his arms. His foot landed in Cris’s mid-section and knocked the youth halfway across the room.

One of the patrons, apparently itching for trouble, ran at Lock who lifted Sparrow above his head and lashed out with his foot, kicking his attacker into a chair, splintering it.

“Lock, stop it!” Sparrow hissed. “What I do is none of your business!”

He lowered her so they were again eye to eye. “Everything about you is my business!”

“Since when? All you care about is the Lady Fire…watch that guy to your left!”

In a fluid movement, Lock shifted Sparrow over one shoulder and used the back of his fist to belt Cris, who had recovered from the first blow. Blood spurted from Cris’s nose, spraying the table and floor. The youth grasped his face in his hands.

Again, Sparrow found herself in Lock’s arms. She blinked. “I don’t believe you! How dare you—”

“All right, put her down and get the hell out of here!” The tavern owner approached Lock again, this time with a crossbow in his hand.

“No!” Sparrow shouted to her employer. “Don’t hurt him!”

“Don’t hurt
him
?” Cris croaked, his eyes watering as he wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve.

The owner glared. “He’s damn near destroyed my place!”