The Devil's Tide (30 page)

Kate smiled at her. "Haven't you asked yourself that same question?"

Calloway looked down at Dillahunt, who remained oblivious in his slumber. "I followed a man."

"That's not why you're here."

"Stop pretending you know me," Calloway barked.

"Then stop confirming that I do," Kate replied easily. "You're out here for a reason, and it's not for this man. Maybe you've got a lust for death. Maybe you wanted to face your mother's killer."

"I never expected to face him," Calloway growled.

"Maybe you wanted a change."

Calloway chewed on her lower lip. "If you want the truth, I don't really remember why I wanted to come. Maybe I never knew."

"You saw a chance for something new and you took it."

Calloway's face twisted as she fought a sudden upsurge of emotion before it could manifest tears. "I was safe in Nassau. I had everything I could have wanted."

"Clearly you didn't," Kate replied with a little laugh. "Wants are never satiated. In fulfilling one desire, we neglect another."

Calloway glanced bitterly at the bars. "I know I didn't want this."

"No." Kate smiled. "But you
want
to get out. And when you do, you'll swiftly forget your hardship here. Your mind will be too occupied with fulfilling its next desire."

No vegetation lined the charcoal-hued mountains that protruded from the ocean like the serrated teeth of some monstrous prehistoric shark. The eight volcanic islands were gathered in a lopsided ring, spread five miles apart at the furthest stretch. They were pure rock. The northern island was the largest, with the other seven tapering off in a circle, growing smaller with each.

Crusader
sailed between the two smallest islands at the southern end, into the huge circular gulf, and continued toward the big northern island. Its giant volcanic mountain was split down the center by a canyon, which was open to the sea. The canyon looked like a slender crack from here, but Annabelle knew that to be a trick of distance, given the canyon's great width in relation to the relatively small ship moored just outside it. As they neared, the canyon grew massive. Outside the canyon, the ship's features came into view.

Ogle joined Annabelle at the helm, scratching his bald head anxiously. "Uh, Miss Annabelle? The men are starting to worry."

She folded her arms, refusing to meet his gaze. "You might call me 'captain,' just once."

"I would, but my tongue refuses," he said.

"Your tongue doesn't seem to be of much use," she shot back.

"
Captain,
" he mustered, though it seemed to pain him severely. "The men recognize that ship from her colors. And it's not
Queen Anne's Revenge
."

"You know bloody well whose ship that is, Ogle. I expect everyone else does, too."

"Aye," he said. "That be Vane's flag."

She glared at him, letting her hands fall to her hips. "And he is friend to Blackbeard, yes?"

"That's a rickety alliance at best," he replied.

"Too late to change course," she said. "To do so would draw him down upon us."

Ogle gaped at her. "Our course was never true, was it?"

"Stay your nerves, big man. Your ceaseless worrying exhausts me."

He stepped closer until his nose was nearly touching hers. His foul breath blasted her cheeks when he spoke. "If you lie, missy, I will be the first to savor a piece of your thighs. I won't care if you're dead."

She waved him away, making a face. "Your breath stifles my thoughts."

He fell back to his former position, but his eyes remained glazed with suspicion.

They sailed forward, with
Crusader's
recently appointed navigator, Red Devil, staring mistrustfully at Annabelle. She merely nodded at him with a little smile. She was relieved this journey was nearing its end. She had endured Ogle and Red Devil's contempt and doubt for too long. Their fear of Blackbeard held them at arm's length, but she knew that couldn't last forever. They were pirates, and impatience would win out eventually.

Crusader
sailed toward the tall canyon that severed the mountain. In the late afternoon light, the canyon was ominously dark.

Vane's sloop,
Valiant
, curved to intercept. A tall blonde haired man in a bright red coat hailed them, and Annabelle instructed Jenkins to shout back, "Mistress Annabelle here, commanding
Crusader
. We have prisoners, Captain Dillahunt among them." Jenkins delivered the message with an uncharacteristically firm voice, the wind blowing back his curly black hair.

The man in the red coat disappeared for a moment, then returned and signaled for them to continue ahead.
Crusader
sailed past
Valiant
, into the shadow of the mountain. The entire deck went dark as the ship descended into canyon channel, and for a nauseating moment Annabelle felt as though the towering charcoal walls on either side were moving to swallow them. Annabelle craned her neck to see the thin line of sky through the slit above. The canyon curved slightly, until she could no longer see the entrance.

As Annabelle's eyes adapted to the dark, details came into focus. There were two docks on either side of the channel. A fancy brigantine was moored at the large dock on the eastern side, and a small, neglected schooner at the much smaller dock on the western side. The brigantine's deck was a flurry of activity as the men unloaded supplies.

Far more impressive was the wall above the eastern dock, hollowed like a beehive with dozens of orange-hued half-caves. Each hollow was decorated like an apartment, with lanterns, paintings, shelves, and haphazardly scattered furniture. Men were moving about within them. Rope ladders and wooden stairways lined the canyon wall, giving it a very industrialized appearance. Precarious walkways slanted from hollow to hollow. Annabelle watched a pirate stroll casually across a walkway while the thin planking bowed under his feet. A few walkways had fallen into disrepair, and the unreachable hollows they had once led to were now dark and empty. Some of the smaller caves seemed to cut deep into the mountain, like mineshafts, fading into darkness. She wondered how deep they went.

Annabelle looked up. High above
Crusader
, three little bridges extended from one side of the canyon to the other, providing access to a few caves on the western side (though most of the population seemed to dwell on the eastern side). A man halted halfway across one of the bridges to stare at the approaching ship directly below.

The dark, still water was blanketed with a fine layer of mist. The air was dense and humid, and sweat trickled down Annabelle's temples. In the distance, she could see where the canyon slanted to a close. Apparently it didn't run all the way through the mountain, which meant there was only one entrance, and it would be easy to defend.

"Heard about this place," Jenkins said. "They call it 'Pirate Town.' Thought it was a myth."

"That's why it's still here," Ogle said with nervous awe. His hairless skin was already covered in perspiration, and his shirt was nearly soaked through. "No one thinks it's real, not even the governor. I'm sure Vane wants to keep it that way. We'll be lucky if we leave here alive."

Annabelle smirked. "Everyone who keeps their mouth shut will be fine."

"And how do you know so much, missy?" Ogle demanded. "How did you even know to find this place?"

"That's a good question," muttered Red Devil, flashing her with a dangerous glare.

She raised one shoulder in a cavalier half-shrug. "Men are forgetful of their possessions when happy. I stole a map from Vane's cabin."

Red and Ogle exchanged a woeful glance. "This woman is going to be the death of us," Ogle growled.

"Should we kill her now?" Red Devil wondered aloud.

That stirred her heart into a panicked frenzy. "I don't think Vane would appreciate that," she objected promptly.

"She knows what she's doing," Jenkins insisted. He swallowed. "Right?"

Annabelle shrugged. "We'll find out."

"Too late to do anything about it," Ogle said, pointing at a ledge jutting from the eastern wall. A nine pound cannon was trained on them, with two men working it. Ogle pointed at the opposite wall, at yet another ledge supporting a nine pounder. As Annabelle scanned both walls, she spotted several more nine and six pounders nested on ledges.

"This place is a fortress," said Red Devil.

"Could hole up in here forever," Ogle said.

They docked behind the brigantine. Two dozen very serious pirates crowded the dock to greet
Crusader
, brandishing guns of every shape and size. Ogle and a few others extended a ramp to them. Annabelle went first, figuring they would be much less likely to shoot at a woman. A single stray shot could trigger a battle that would quickly eviscerate
Crusader
and her men. As she descended the narrow ramp, the pirate crowd dispersed at the middle, and Charles Vane stepped through. He was wearing that same forest green coat he had worn last time she saw him, which so nicely complimented his eyes. His auburn hair was slightly trimmer than she remembered, but his red stubble was a little thicker.

The only thing missing was his perpetual smirk, which he had presently swapped for a perplexed scowl. Annabelle and Vane reached the foot of the ramp at the same time and stood two paces from one another. His eyes trailed her body, up and down. The smirk returned for a fleeting moment, then vanished. "There's a good reason for this, I'm sure. Because if there isn't, I will politely ask you to leave."

She teased him with a smile. "And if I don't obey?"

One of his eyelids flinched, revealing tiny crow's feet at the corner. "I will politely fuck you to death with my cutlass."

Annabelle took an involuntary step back. "That's no way to treat a woman bearing gifts."

Vane's strong jaw worked furiously. "I wondered what happened to my map. I tortured a man I suspected of thieving it from my cabin. He maintained his innocence, even as the last of his guts were drawn into a bucket."

Annabelle swallowed. "I'm sorry for your man."

"I never liked him," Vane replied. "Tell me you are here at Teach's behest."

She shook her head. "Teach has no idea I'm here."

He drew his cutlass and set it to her neck. "An old sailor once told me that the brain works for a full minute after the head is parted from the body. The eyes still see. I never really believed that, but right now I pray it's true."

Annabelle forced a smile, but her heart was thudding rapidly in her chest. "After everything we've been through?"

Vane scowled. "I've been through many women."

"Not like me."

His scowl softened. "I'll admit, you were memorable. But that changes nothing."

"Don't you want to see my gift?" The words came out shakier than she had intended.

"I've seen it," he grated. He leaned on the sword, and she felt a thin sting. "Return to your ship and go. That is the best I can offer you. Had anyone else walked down that plank, they would never have left. Consider it an act of . . . nostalgia."

She lingered until the edge of the sword bit too deeply. She turned and started back up the ramp. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out from under her. A trickle of blood ran down her neck, collecting on her white shirt. The crew was gathered at the rail, their expressions conveying a mixture of emotions, relief chief among them. They wanted out of here.

How would she control them after this? Someone else would surely take command the minute they had safely sailed from Pirate Town. Probably Ogle, since he was the loudest. He'd sail straight for Teach and inform him of her treacherous intentions, and if she was lucky, Teach would dispatch her swiftly, instead of favoring her with one of his more creative scenarios. He had an arsenal of deaths to choose from, many of which he had relayed to her in great detail. Vane might as well have killed her on the dock. It would have been a kinder end.

She made it five dreadful steps before Vane called, "Wait!" Annabelle halted, relief pouring over her like cold water on a blistering hot day. She listened to his footsteps thumping up the ramp behind her, and she didn't dare turn. "Show me," he said when he reached her. "And I don't mean your cunny."

"Follow me," she said, continuing up the ramp.

She led him down the stairway to the hold and through the maze of crates and barrels. Vane glanced casually at the prisoners in both cages, pausing for a moment to appraise Dillahunt, who looked like he'd emerged from the business end of a meat grinder. "Captain Dillahunt," Vane said. "Did someone mistake your face for a chamber pot?"

Dillahunt glared through the slits of his bandages. "I found myself in a disagreement with a cannonball," he replied.

Vane leaned in for a closer look, lips curling. "I'm afraid the cannonball won."

Annabelle continued to the treasure chests, beckoning Vane to follow. Vane pointed at Dillahunt and said, "We'll pick this up later, Guy. Don't go anywhere."

He caught up to Annabelle. She opened one of the chests and took a step back, allowing Vane time to digest what he saw within. He pretended not to be impressed, even as his smirk steadily returned.

"Still wish to violate me with your sword?" she asked.

"Not with this one," he said, sheathing his cutlass at last. "However, Teach may wish to fuck us both with something unpleasant, namely the bow of his ship. He'll skewer us like pigs on a spit, and we'll make pretty mastheads, with your lips to my ass."

"What Teach doesn't know won't kill us," she assured him.

Vane wiped sweat from his brow and stared at his wet fingers. "Teach has ways of knowing things he has no way of knowing. You used his men to take this ship, yes?"

She didn't want to answer that. She wanted him to believe it had all been her doing, that it hadn't been as simple as following Teach's instructions and enlisting the proper men. But that's exactly what she had done. She lifted her chin and looked Vane in his pretty green eyes. "Yes. Two men named Ogle and Red Devil."

"That must have been frightening for you," he said. The crease in his brow lengthened sympathetically. "Being forced to command traitorous brutes who might have split you from the ass up at any moment."