A Pirate's Revenge (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix) Read online

  Kane glowered. “You and William…what?”

  “Kane.” William broke free of his gasp. “Don’t blame her. ’Tis me, not her.”

  Kane shoved William’s shoulder. “What the devil’s gotten into you? ’Tis the second time you’ve tried to kill him.”

  “I told you to lock me up. I’m not safe.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Kane warned. “What’s this?” He pointed to a pile of discarded chicken bones.

  “I was trying to fill my hunger.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Drakon said if I ate as much as a dragon, food would calm his anger.”

  “Apparently ’tis not enough,” Kane snorted.

  William watched Mariah gently wipe the blood from Ronan’s disfigured and swollen face. Cook brought Doc a bowl of water and a rag, and Sean returned with Doc’s bag. Doc readied the needle.

  “I’m sorry, Kane,” William said. “I never meant to hurt Ronan. I don’t know what has come over me. If he hadn’t been a vampire and immortal…”

  Hannah walked into the galley and stopped. Her eyes enlarged, and she put her hand over her mouth. “My word, Ronan.”

  “I know what’s driving you mad,” Kane said. “The same thing that almost tore us apart.”

  William swallowed back his guilt. Not so long ago, he had been in Ronan’s place. Kane had smashed his fist into William’s eye for lavishing attention on Hannah, but Kane hadn’t beaten him to a bloody mess. William considered Kane the monster and himself the gentleman. Now, he was worse than any vampire.

  Doc dipped a needle into water and stitched Ronan’s bloodied cheek. Ronan groaned and leaned his head against the wall. William couldn’t tell if he had passed out since the poor man couldn’t open his eyes.

  “William, your hands.” Hannah frowned.

  “The dragon…I…lost control,” he stammered.

  “Aye, you keep saying that,” Kane grumbled. “Mariah?”

  Mariah squeezed the bloodied rag into the bowl of water. “Oui, Capitaine?”

  “Do I need to lock my brother up before he kills one of my crewmen?”

  She stared hard at him and William. William squirmed under her condemning gaze.

  She wiped her stained hands on her dress and stood. “No, Capitaine. That will not be necessary. I know the dragon’s second hunger.”

  Frowning, Kane glanced between Mariah and William. “Second hunger?”

  William winced at the wariness in his voice and the accusation in his eyes.

  She held out her hand. “Come, William.”

  William swallowed. Shite, did she suspect? “I can’t be alone with her.” William stared at her hand, too afraid to touch her, too afraid of losing control, too afraid in giving into the dragon. “’Tis not safe.”

  Kane shoved William toward Mariah. “’Tis her or the brig.”

  “I’ll take the brig.”

  ***

  William sat on the bench in the brig. He rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his palms. Kane had allowed him to wash Ronan’s blood off before locking him inside. He knew it killed his brother to treat him like a prisoner, but he was no longer the brother Kane knew.

  He sighed and detected the scent of lavender and groaned. Mariah. Kane had foolishly not left a guard.

  She had changed her bloodied clothes and now wore a white gown with a full skirt. A richly laced collar sloped down over her slender shoulders, and a bodice with gold laces drew attention to her ample bosom. She was an angel with her dark hair cascading down her back.

  She carried a knapsack, but he didn’t care what was inside. He leaned against the wall and stared at the wooden ceiling, forcing himself not to look at her, trying to fight the lust threatening to explode inside him. “Go away, Mariah.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  Her skirts rustled, and he stole a glance. She grabbed the key hanging on the wall.

  “Mariah, don’t.”

  “I know the dragon’s hunger.”

  “I need more meat. Kane had Cook fix me a snack.”

  “Oui, I know. Enough salted fish for an army.” She studied him and slipped the key inside the lock. “Full?”

  “Aye,” he lied.

  “I can see the hunger in your eyes, William. I am a witch.” She lowered her voice, almost a caress. “I see what the others do not.”

  “Mariah, I don’t know…”

  She opened the door, stepped inside, and shut the door behind her. His words stuck in his throat. She knelt on the floor, opened her knapsack, and pulled out four candles and ceramic dishes and herbs. “William, you have to believe in your ability. There are forces of white and black magic here, and you need to understand how they work.”

  He tried to concentrate, but her feminine scent distracted him, drawing attention to her luscious body.

  She lit the candles and motioned for him to sit on the floor. “S`il vous plaît.”

  He was not sure if he could maintain behaving like a gentleman. Hell, what was he thinking? He’d been a pirate for the past couple of years. He’d never raped a woman. Never wanted to. Until now. He loathed himself. “Mariah, you need to get out of here. Before ’tis too late. I’m begging you.”

  Mariah gave him a demure smile. “Please sit. I promise I will not touch you.”

  “But I can’t make the same promise.”

  “I am not afraid.”

  “You should be.” He sat on the floor, careful to stay within arm’s length.

  “Bon.” Mariah set the candles around them in the four directions of north, south, east, and west. The sweet smells of jasmine and lavender filled the damp air, along with some other scents he couldn’t name. “Everything runs through energy, the sky, earth, your body. Magic is another way that channels energy. Witches and magical creatures like dragons can tap into this source.”

  “Meaning?”

  Mariah touched the center of her forehead. “This is where your third eye is located.”

  “Hidden eye?”

  “Oui, it allows you to see magic if you draw on it.” She placed both hands over her heart. “Your heart is another source of energy, as are your palms and groin.”

  Groin. His energy was there all right, but not the kind she was talking about.

  “Dragons do not have a third eye. We do not cast spells. We are magical beings.”

  William was too tired to argue with Drakon and stared at the flickering candles. “Breathe,” she said.

  William tried, but he barely sucked in any air. His nerves were wound tighter than a halyard hoisting a sail.

  “Magic is generated through will, expectation, imagination, and perception. All components must be used to channel your dragon magic. First, you must will something to happen and believe. There can be no doubt.”

  “How can my willing something make it happen?”

  “Let me explain. Magic dwells in the elementary world. This world is in another realm. The only way to access this magic is through the astral sphere.” She lifted her hand toward the ceiling. “This sphere contains stars, planets, space—everything outside our Earth. In order for you to access this magic, you must think of an image. You will call upon the elementary universe, and it will send the magic to the astral stars and finally down to you. You are part of the physical earth, and through you, the magic will take form. We are going to practice you conjuring an image in your mind. The image will transform in the astral heavens, and your belief will allow it to manifest here.”

  “She’s talking about a witch’s magic. Ours is different.”

  “You don’t have any ale in that bag, do you?” William asked.

  She frowned. “No, why?”

  “I need a drink. All of this talk of other worlds does not make sense to me. ’Tis not logical.”

  “So drinking from a lake and being turned into a vampire or being cursed by a demon and changed into a shape-shifter is logical, oui?”

  He clamped his jaw ti
ght and refused to break a smile at her teasing. He wanted her angry, angry enough to turn her back on him and leave. She had locked herself in the chamber with him, thinking him harmless. His lips ached to taste hers, to lick her skin, to kiss and suck her between her thighs. Jaaysus, he was a leech.

  She sighed. “I know ’tis hard for you to believe. ’Tis difficult for anyone who is not a witch. You must know how magic works so you can wield it. If you do not learn how to wield your own magic, you will leave yourself open for someone else to control it.”

  “You mean Natasa or Zuto.”

  “Oui. There are five components of magic—will, timing, imagery, direction, and balance.”

  “And if I do not learn how to use all five components?”

  “The magic spell fails.”

  “I won’t use magic.”

  “You can’t wield a witch’s magic, because you are not a witch. You’ve dragon magic.”

  “William, you are not listening, oui? Natasa and Zuto both know how to use these components. Do you think ’tis by accident Zuto had Lark curse you into a dragon?”

  “Drakon says that his magic is different than yours.”

  “Indeed?”

  Zuto was a cunning demon, not one to underestimate. So, who was telling the truth—Mariah or Drakon? Was this Zuto’s plan—to pit these two against each other? William had a dreadful feeling about that.

  “So, is Drakon right?”

  Her brows furrowed. “I do not know. Grand-mère was more learned in dragon lore.”

  Grand-mère had bragged about her abilities. Why wouldn’t she share her knowledge about magical creatures? “So, tell me how your components work.”

  “I have to create an image in my mind first and pick the time to use it. I have to chose which direction to send the magic.”

  “You mean like north, south, east, and west?”

  “Oui.”

  “Dragons are based on elements. Earth. Air. Wind. Fire.”

  William almost relayed what Drakon had revealed, but he was reluctant. He needed time to sort out all this magic lore. “And?”

  “Most important,” Mariah said, “you must learn balance. When to use your magic and when to refrain.”

  “Balance is for witches. I come from a long lineage of powerful dragons. My ancestors possessed all four elements. ’Tis why Maketabori wanted me as his slave.”

  William rubbed his chin. This was too overwhelming.

  Mariah clasped his hand. “Are you well?”

  “Aye. So, tell me why witches need balance?”

  “Have you seen Hannah use her powers?”

  He frowned. “Aye, why? She’s not a witch. Her powers come from a gypsy queen. According to Hannah, her ancestor had the ability to move objects, but they do not cast spells.”

  “Was she not tired after, no?”

  “She always seems to get a bloody nose.”

  “’Tis because magic is draining. You do not want to use it if you know you are about to be captured unless you know the spell will work or you have an escape route.”

  “She does not know anything about dragons. We do not tire from spells.”

  “So, what about all this hocus pocus witchcraft?”

  She braced her shoulders and glared. “’Tis not hocus-pocus. I want you to conjure up some dragon magic.”

  “Exactly how am I going to do this?”

  “Many dragons can make themselves invisible.”

  “Invisible? You are kidding?”

  “No, I am not.” She leaned over and patted his knee.

  William bit back a groan. His groin tightened, and he fought to keep from grabbing her hand, tossing her onto the floor, and having his way with her.

  “You are listening, oui?” She squeezed his knee.

  “Aye,” he said, harsher than he intended.

  She jerked her hand away, and he was able to push back his physical need. ’Twas becoming harder and harder. She had to get out of the brig before ’twas too late.

  “Please don’t touch me,” he groaned. “I can’t concentrate when you do this.”

  “The hunger is gripping you.”

  Not for food, but for her, always for her. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Oui, you are. But not for food. For passion.”

  William sighed, not surprised the lass had guessed the truth. He swallowed and stumbled over his few words. “Why would you say this?”

  “Sex magic,” she said, her voice husky. “Grand-mère says that when two witches cast a spell and then have sex, the spell is ten times more powerful.”

  “Mariah,” he growled. “I’m not a witch.”

  “I know.” She met his bold stare. “I cannot get what we did out of my mind. I cannot concentrate.”

  “’Tis the dragon’s essence.” He hung his head, not wanting to see the disgust in her eyes.

  She frowned. “Dragon’s essence?”

  He got up off the floor and slammed back down on the bench, needing to put distance between himself and Mariah. “Drakon said when I kissed you—I infected you. You will only want me.” He motioned toward the door. “Don’t you see? ’Tis not real. I’ve cursed you. You must leave and get far away from me.”

  “William, I wanted you before you kissed me.”

  He sighed and leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling. “I wish I could believe you, Mariah. I really do. But I don’t.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mariah squirmed under William’s bold stare. His cheek twitched, and he fisted his hands. The man was fighting their destiny. Hadn’t Grand-mère said as much? Why deny the inevitable?

  She stood and hastened around the candles to kneel in front of him, placing her hands on his knees. He was so stiff, so rigid. “You are growing weary,” she said. “Every limb is heavy. Your anger is dissipating into a puff of smoke, and a wave of serenity is replacing your anger. You smell lavender and jasmine. It will calm your fears. Take deep breaths, William.”

  “Mariah.” His voice strained.

  “Inhale, exhale.” She slid her hands up his thighs and squeezed. Desire for him pulsed through her, and she wished he would lose his self-control and forget about his honor for once. “Breathe. Stop fighting it.”

  “You’re relentless.”

  “Oui,” she whispered.

  He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and inhaled.

  She smiled. Beneath her palms, the tension in his thick legs lessened.

  “Your anger is leaving.” She closed her eyes. His heart thumped steady in her mind. “You are ready.” She opened her eyes and frowned at his wary gaze. “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we are going to summon your power.”

  He shook his head and grumbled beneath his breath, but surprisingly, he obeyed, and his breathing deepened.

  Mariah’s mouth curved at the corner. “Now, let your mind wander. Be at peace. Bon. You have magic buried deep inside you. Listen to the dragon.”

  His pinched nostrils flared.

  “You are tensing again. Inhale the sweet smells of lavender and jasmine. Release the tension.”

  He groaned, and his muscles went slack.

  “William, bring forth the magic.”

  He scowled and shook his head as if he were fighting taking a bitter spoonful of quinine.

  “Do not fight it, oui? Your magic is coming. It will not hurt you or me. Trust in the magic. Trust the dragon.”

  His hair had fallen over his face, but she could see the spark of panic in his eyes through the silky strands. He jumped up, knocking her on her bottom. “I can’t. I can’t trust the dragon. I’m sorry.” He reached down and pulled her onto her feet.

  She knew what he needed. What she needed. Sliding her hand behind his neck, she molded herself closer. “William, kiss me,” she said. “We need to release your magic.”

  He glanced everywhere but at her. “No, you don’t know what you’re saying,” he said, his voice soft. “’Tis not right. I�
��m a monster.”

  She cupped his stubbly cheek, wanting him to give into his passion to satisfy both of them.

  He panted hard, closing his eyes. “Please, Mariah, I beg you. You don’t know what you’re doing. I…I…don’t know if I…can control myself.”

  “I don’t want you to control yourself,” she said, as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Kiss me.”

  Burning gold eyes peered down at her. She could not turn her gaze away. “The dragon is revealing himself,” she said.

  “He…he…won’t hurt you. But he wants you, Mariah. Wants me to take you now.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “I’m hanging on by a frayed thread, lass. Go. Now.” His voice was low, raspy.

  Her nipples tightened and a need pooled between her thighs. She pulled his head down and kissed him. He groaned, his arms wrapping around her, crushing her to him. She pressed her hand on his chest, and his heart pounded wildly beneath her palm. The kiss deepened, possessing her, igniting fiery feelings. He slipped his hand inside her bodice; masterful fingers played and toyed with her sensitive nipple. She panted, moaning.

  He broke off the kiss. “Not here, Mariah. ’Tis not right.”

  She tried to catch her breath, disappointment beating her. She wanted to feel his lips on her, indulge in more delight…finish what they’d started in the corridor. “William.” She ran her fingers down his hard face. “I am not complaining, no?”

  “You’re a virgin and don’t deserve to be taken here like a common prostitute.”

  She hung her head. “I did not think you—”

  He lifted her chin with his shaking hand, and met her gaze. “I want better for you, Mariah. You deserve to lie in a bed and be slowly worshiped not taken on the brig’s filthy floor.”

  “Use your magic, William,” she urged.

  “What?”

  She unbuttoned his shirt and caressed his smooth chest.

  “Your dragon is hungry for passion,” she whispered. “Like you.”

  “Mariah, I don’t know if I can stop. You need to leave now.”

  “Then do not stop.”

  He leaned his forehead on hers. “What if someone walks in? I couldn’t bear for them to see us, to see you being taken in such a dishonorable way.”