A Pirate's Dream (2 page)

The sea witch shoved the orbs deep into the sands of the hidden island and told the hag that should anyone ever find one and take one, she would become little more than a puppet to its master.

So though a thief could come and take an orb, the hag herself could never handle them, for doing so would kill her instantly. That meant she could never again leave her cave.

And the only time she ever got food was when the rainbows appeared and seals and turtles crawled upon her land for warmth and a nap. The double rainbow meant she was distracted.

Licking her lips, Nimue rubbed the golden pendant hanging from around her neck. A tiny seahorse dipped in gold, the gift was given to her by her mother the day she was born. Touching it had always helped calm her mind.

Pirates had often spoken of the hag, almost lustily, not with lust for the creature itself, but for the desire to possess an orb. To command such a beast would make one invincible.

And today, that’s exactly what Nimue aimed to do.

Taking one final, deep breath, she forced her numb legs to move. She hadn’t exactly been sure what to expect when she’d come here. She’d thought it would be a cave littered with the bones of half-eaten carcasses. The smell of mold. Of death. The impenetrable darkness typical of such places... but the hag’s cave wasn’t at all like that.

Hugging tightly to the walls and keeping herself as deep in shadow as possible, Nimue couldn’t quite fathom that such an evil creature could live in such a lovely place. The walls of the cave glittered with brilliant gems. Rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and even strings of smoky-hued pearls dangled from the roof. Lit torches flickered at even intervals, and rather than giving the place an ominous feel, the light actually made it all look warm and inviting.

Large cushions the size of a small pond littered the marble-veined floor, except for at its very center. It looked as though someone had cut a hole through the stone to reveal sand beneath. And sitting inside that depression rested a shimmering mound of thirteen eggs.

Nimue’s eyes grew large, and she had to remember that somewhere on this island was the hag. Cooing at the glowing blue orbs could be a very bad idea. Steeling her nerve, she shoved the cutlass into the sheath at her waist and moved nimbly toward the stack of eggs. All she needed was one.

Galloping hooves pounded away in her chest when she dropped to her knees, holding her hands, palms open, over the nest. One thing her father had taught her was that treasure of such value was never so easy to take.

There were always traps in place.

Frowning, she waved a hand. No invisible wires or alarms. Twisting her lips, she gazed hungrily at the orbs. They were so beautiful. Pulsing, as though with life, they had such a smoky, luminescent color.

But something nagged at her—a foreboding suspicion that this was much, much too easy. Worrying her bottom lip, she gazed over her shoulder, expecting to see the entrance full of a shadowy figure ready to pounce on her and rip her to pieces for coming after its most valued treasure.

Treasure.

A pirate’s one weakness.

A true fortune hunter wouldn’t stop to wonder what stealing an orb would mean to the victim. All knew the hag to be a vile, scornful beast. And yet, Nimue couldn’t stop from wondering how she would feel if someone came in and stole a sliver of her soul.

Shivering, she gripped her pendant, rubbing the tiny head nearly bald of gold. She was taking too much time; she needed to grab one and go while she still could. But she couldn’t stop from remembering what’d happened to the pixie seven years ago.

Father had come across one trapped inside an empty pickle jar. A pixie was a cross between a fairy and an imp, not quite as benevolent as a fairy and nowhere near as nasty as an imp. They were mischievous creatures full of magic.

It’d been her birthday, and Nimue had asked for a pony. Hook hadn’t been able to find her one of those, but he had found her the next best thing.

The pixie had stared at her through the glass wall, her tiny face pressed tightly against it, pleading with Nimue to release her, saying that if she were forced to grant even one more wish, she would die.

But Father had told her pixies were notorious tricksters, and she’d not believed the pretty little fae. Too desperate to get her hands on her prize, she’d made that wish. Then there was a pony in her room, on the ship, and she’d forgotten everything in her haste to pet it, love it.

That night, when she went back to the jar to release the pixie, she’d found her lying lifeless, and Nimue had never wanted to make another wish again in her life.

The hag wasn’t a good creature. But the pixie been to some, either. Even so, killing the creature had broken her heart.

But how could she go back to the ship without an orb? Without one, how could she prove to her parents that she was capable of being her own person?

Soon the rainbows would fade, and she’d be stuck in this half world between reality and myth with a creature who’d just as soon skin her and eat her as let her go.

“Damn my bloody soul,” she hissed. Then, snatching up an orb, she crammed it down her bodice and jumped to her feet before heading back toward the safety of her dinghy. Time was now her enemy.

Nimue was almost to the entrance of the cave, and the light beckoned to her. Until she was off this island, she couldn’t control the creature. Two more steps would have gotten her there, but a strong zephyr shoved against her back, jamming her tightly to the damp cave wall. She hissed as her cheek became abraded by the sharp edge of a jewel.

“You would dare sssteal from the Hag!”

Whimpering, Nimue fought to pull away from the rock, but invisible bands held her fast. She couldn’t move, and she could barely even breathe against the pressure of being plastered as she was.

“You don’t understand,” she gritted out.

“Oh, the Hag underssstands well, human!”

The coldness of that voice washed down Nimue’s spine like a bucket of ice. Then suddenly, the world spun with color as the Hag snapped her fingers, twirling Nimue like a marionette on a string.

Chest heaving with the force of her fear and her overwhelming need for oxygen, Nimue finally got a good look at the beast and gasped. The woman standing in front of her was frightening in her macabre loveliness.

Instead of hair, thick black spiraling tentacles flowed past her shoulders, writhing and undulating in such a way that Nimue was sure they were alive. Her skin was a strange color. Pearl white, it reflected shades of the ocean, as well—aquamarine, the green sea foam, and even a soft luminescent pink. She was slender and proportionally built, but small—smaller even than Nimue’s naturally waify thinness. The hag couldn’t have come much higher than chest level to her.

But there was no mistaking the woman’s body beneath the tightly cinched white Grecian gown. Her feet were bare, and golden bands encircled her slim biceps.

Her heart-shaped face and dimpled chin might have made her appear harmless were it not for the solid blacks of her eyes and the tiny pointed fangs that poked out from beneath her rosebud lips as she spoke. All of that wouldn’t have been so bad—Nimue had encountered stranger-looking creatures within Wonderland—if it hadn’t been for the thick band of blood staining the hag from chin to toes.

The hag cocked her head, her movement’s stiff and alien. Humanoid she might have been, but there was nothing human about her.

“Will you deny that you’ve ssstolen from the Hag?” The creature blinked then blinked again before casting her eyes downward, straight to Nimue’s bodice.

Considering the orb was currently stuck between her boobs and bobbing precariously with each breath she took, the evidence looked rather damning.

“I...I...” Damn her to blue blazes, what type of pirate was she that she’d become a dithering simpleton around this... this... creature, woman, thing? Swallowing hard, she cleared her throat, notched her chin, and with a voice as steady as she could possibly manage, she said, “It is not what you think.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Was it? She had planned to use the hag—but not badly.
Goddess,
that even sounded bad to her own ears.

Wanting to groan, knowing she dare not, she quickly changed tact. She was Hook’s daughter. His blood ran through her veins. If she couldn’t use brawn, she’d use brains.

Drawing near to her, the hag swiveled her neck from side to side like a charmed snake. “You sssmell of sssweet meat.” She sniffed slowly, lingering around the vein in Nimue’s neck.

Yipping, Nimue tried to kick out her foot to push the thing back, but the hag still had her gripped tight.

“And I’m ssso hungry.”

Had that been the flickering of a tongue? Holy Calypso!

Trying not to faint, Nimue gave a nervous sort of chuckle. “You don’t want to eat me. I’m too skinny. No meat.”

Gods, she needed to get off this island. Nimue wasn’t certain how long the twin rainbows would last, but surely, she was running out of time.

“Take-take it back.” She thrust her chest out, bumping the orb forcibly against the hag’s breasts.

Dragging long black-tipped claws against the exposed bits of the soul orb, the hag smiled.

Nimue did not like that smile at all. Clenching her jaw, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think.

“You are right, little human, not enough flesh on you to be more than a nibble. But there are... other things.” The claw that’d been tapping the orb drew lightning quick against Nimue’s upper left breast.

Gasping from the fiery pain, Nimue attempted to bend over to shield herself, but she managed to move only her head.

The hag’s claws held poison sacks in them. Nimue could only pray to the goddess that she’d suffered only a dry cut. Trembling from both pain and a healthy dose of terror, she lifted her head to gaze to the monster.

“Kill me then!” she snapped, not so much from anger, but fear.

Father had always told her that if a pirate couldn’t reason her way out of a fight, then she switched tactics. Reverse course.

She did not want to die. Ergo... well, perhaps taunting the hag to kill her might not have been the best way to go about things, but mother had called this tactic reverse psychology—essentially defying a person to do one thing when in fact you wanted them to do the other. The thing of it was, the hag didn’t look fooled.

So she almost crowed when the hag took a step back, black eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Are you blood sssick?” She sniffed again, her warm breath fanning against Nimue’s cheek.

“Ye... yes!” she snapped. “I am. I am blood sick. Eat me, Hag, and die.” For a moment, Nimue was proud of her strong, unwavering voice.

But then the creature screamed, the sound so shrill and deafening that Nimue was sure her ears now bled.

Holy Calypso, this might come back to bite her in the arse.

Licking her lips and trying her best to block out the sensation of knives stabbing her eardrums, she suddenly had a vision of when she was eight.

Her beautiful mother had been sitting at the vanity, brushing her golden-blond curls out one night. Nimue had lain across her father’s sleeping form, toying idly with her seahorse pendant.

“Did you know,” her mother had said in a voice as lovely as angel song, “that your little horse isn’t made of gold at all?”

“No.” Nimue had gasped, staring at the jewel, fascinated. “What is it, Mother?”

Twisting on her seat, Trishelle had smiled. “It was a gift from a man I once knew. A merman. His name was Sircco, and he, along with his sister, rule the Seren Seas.”

Enraptured by the tale, Nimue had sat absolutely still, imagining the strange and impossible beauty of the world below. She’d hung on with bated breath as her mother described the realm of the maidens and the ensorcelled males who lived below.

That was the very moment she’d decided that someday, she would see that world for herself.

Trishelle had ended her tale with a loving stroke to her daughter’s head. “Protect that little seahorse, Nimue, and someday, if you should ever find yourself in danger, all you need to do is brush against it and whisper his name. And he will come...”

Brush against it
.

Yes. Yes. That’s what she would do. But how?

A stiff breeze knocked the orb out of Nimue’s bodice, rolling it swiftly across the floor and back to the safety of the nest.

Then the hag turned on her and, lifting a hand, aimed it directly at Nimue’s heart. “If you cannot feed the Hag, then you’re of no ussse.”

With a
meep
sound, Nimue dipped her head and brushed against the seahorse’s head with the only thing she could—her tongue. “Sircco, help!”

The Sea Hag gasped, stumbling backward over the train of her dress, when a loud cracking sound erupted through the cave.

Nimue knew the moment the hag’s concentration slipped because she sagged against the cave wall. The creature was trying to get up, but her movements were drunken.

After twirling on her booted heel, Nimue ran with the last bits of her strength for her craft. She had no orb. And she’d nearly died.

Her father would kill her.

She was halfway there, so, so close. Then suddenly, she could not move, gripped once more by that strange invisible magic. Except this time, she retained her ability to move her limbs; she simply couldn’t walk away.

“No!” she screamed, watching as the twin rainbows above her began to fade quickly. Only a few miles ahead, the Jolly Rodger was anchored. So close. She’d been so close.

“Get away from her, Sssirco. Ssshe belongs to the Hag.”

Only then did Nimue notice him—the King of the Sea.

He sat upon a throne of azure water.

He was a powerful man, square jawed, with slashing cheekbones, a sharp nose, and striking bronze-colored eyes that seemed to glow faintly as they gazed down upon her. Upon his head of cropped blond hair rested a crown, and scuttling upon it were hermit crabs with shells of gold.

Everything about him was massive. Nimue couldn’t quite seem to catch her breath when she gazed on him. The Sea King was easily twice the size of a normal male, and he had the upper body of the most exquisite male she’d ever seen.