The Devil's Tide (27 page)

Nathan stared at her. "Killed Teach?"

"Why not?" Kate sputtered. "You had your precious Annabelle. You could have easily overpowered the men he brought with him."

"And
Queen Anne's Revenge
would have sunk
Crusader
in retaliation."

"
Crusader
could hold her own against Teach's ship."

"The odds are slippery," Nathan argued. "Not everyone is favored with your brand of luck."

Kate's lips curved wickedly behind wavering strands of hair. "I am lucky, aren't I? Is that why you let me roam free?"

He chuckled lightly. "You'd be far more dangerous in a cage."

"You know me." She turned around and propped her rear on the rail, looking down on him. She wobbled slightly, and Nathan started to reach for her leg, to steady her in place, but stopped himself.

"Besides," he added, "the crew likes you. I'd be a fool to infringe upon their happiness."

"The happier the crew, the less inclined they are to murder you."

"That's one way to look at it."

"That's the only way to look at it, Nathan," she reminded him. "These are very dangerous men, and you're as careless as ever."

He smiled up at her. "I'm not the one dangling over the bow of a ship. Do you know what happens to a person when swept under the keel of a ship?"

She smiled. "If I were in any danger of stumbling off a ship, I would have done so a long time ago."

Her hair blew in her face, and she freed a hand to push it away. He studied her casual movements. There was no longer any stiff calculation in her mannerisms. "Why are you out here?" he said.

She considered that while chewing on her lower lip. "Where else would I be?"

"London."

She scoffed. "If I ever chance upon you in London, I'll ask why you're not in the Caribbean."

Nathan moved to cross his arms but remembered he only had one to cross. "London sounds nice, actually."

"Change always does," she sighed. "Until it's no longer change."

"Maybe you'll tire of the sea," he suggested.

"Maybe I will," she said with a careless toss of her hand.

"And when you do?"

"I'll go somewhere else. Maybe the Americas."

He shook his head and smiled. "It's all so easy for you, isn't it?"

"For now," she said. Her gaze trailed off toward the darkness beyond the ship. "But that will change. Might be a year. Might be a month. Might be a minute. Nothing lasts."

Nathan nearly shuddered as he recalled the shriek Kate had unleashed when Jonathan Griffith plunged his sword into her husband's breast. He shook the grisly memory from his head and cleared his throat. It had been little more than a year, but Kate was already so much more than that naïve, pale girl in a spotless saffron dress. "What will you do when we get to Tortuga?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Disappear with my share of the plunder, probably." She lifted a finger before he could think to object. "And you
will
be giving me my fair share. I earned it just as much as you, if not more. You know that better than anyone, Nathan."

"Yes," he admitted. "I know."

"Of course, this is all assuming Blackbeard doesn't arrive to claim it all for himself."

Nathan shook his head. "Blackbeard has no idea we have it."

Kate loosed a terrible, raspy laugh. "The woman in your cabin knows."

"And you think she serves Blackbeard still?" Nathan's laughter overpowered hers. "How do they communicate, exactly? Carrier pigeons?" He spun around, scanning the sky. "She must dispatch them at night, because I haven't spied any wings flapping in the day."

"It's all too bloody convenient," Kate said, glowering resentfully at him for making light of her concern. It was hard for him to take her seriously, given that she'd left him to die so she could gallivant around the Caribbean.

"You think I don't realize that?" he said.

"If you do, you're a fool to allow this farce to continue."

His laugh was bitter. "It seems I'm a fool either way."

"That's the smartest thing you've said yet."

"You know for a fact it's a farce?" he asked with a flourish of feigned curiosity, for he knew she had no evidence. "If you've heard something I haven't, now would be a good time."

She looked away in frustration. "Of course I haven't heard anything. It's obvious to anyone with two working eyes."

He massaged the rough end of his shortened arm. "I won't know anything for sure until she takes action."

"You mean until she kills you. When you're a ghost, drop in for a visit so I can say I told you so. I enjoy being right."

"Maybe I would deserve it," he said as he stared into the black. "I was wrong to trade that man's life."

"Hornigold was an idiot," Kate spat dismissively. "He should never have left Nassau."

Nathan stared at her, appalled. "You mean he should never have listened to
you
."

"That was his choice," she replied with a relaxed shrug. "He knew the risks. Just as you knew the risks when you traded Hornigold for your precious Annabelle." She cocked her head as though struck by a sudden thought. "Such a sweet name. How could anyone with so sweet a name be capable of evil?"

Nathan slapped his palm on the rail. "You give me too little credit."

"You deserve none!" She slid closer and leaned downward, trying to get his attention. "Do I have to spell it out for you? That woman is here to murder you."

"She's taking her time!" He tried to avoid her unrelenting gaze, but he felt her eyes burrowing holes in his skull.

"You really don't know anything, do you?"

His hand shot upwards and seized her throat, shoving her backwards and suspending her over the water. Her legs slipped around his waist, tightening. She smiled, even as her face turned red. "All it would take is a little shove," she rasped.

He pushed forward a little, letting her hang precariously for a gratifying moment. The comely masthead waited just below her, oblivious to her plight. If Nathan released her throat, the mermaid's pretty face would be the last thing she'd see before being dragged under the keel.

Kate didn't relinquish her smile. "What are you waiting for?"

"That's not what I want," he said at last, jerking her toward him. Her ass slipped from the rail, and she crumpled against him. She placed both hands on his chest, struggling to push off, but he slipped his fingers around the back of her neck and brought her forward. Her lips peeled away from clenched teeth, and her eyes burned furiously. The muscles in her arms strained against his pull, until her elbows buckled. Their lips came together. He shoved his tongue into her mouth. Her teeth parted, and he feared she was letting him in just so she could bite down, but then her tongue curled around his. For an instant, her body softened in his grip, leaning into him, and Nathan realized how desperately he wanted her.

But it was only an instant. Her tongue abruptly stopped moving, and she shoved him away with greater force than he thought her capable.

She glared at him, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry," he said, though he wasn't sure he meant it.

A warm breeze washed over the deck, ruffling the sails. Kate's reproachful look faded. "I just can't do that, Nathan. Not to you."

"Not to me?" He couldn't hide his sudden aggravation.

Her face twisted painfully, and her eyes lined with tears, and he was reminded that there was still a very young woman in there. "I've done enough," she said.

His mind drifted to the dark cell in Nassau, where he was certain he would face his death because she had abandoned him. Her hair, which looked so full and beautiful before him now, had been a dreadful, fiery vision that plagued his thoughts. Now, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her. A question emerged methodically from his lips. "If you had to make the decision you made in Nassau again . . . would you?"

"Yes."

He nodded slowly.

She added a remorseful smile. "But I would feel terrible about it."

The walk back to his cabin was not nearly long enough. The ship felt very small, and he yearned to be back on an expansive beach, where he could stroll for hours without encountering another soul. He didn't want to go to sleep and dream of Hornigold again. Falling into bed with the very woman he had traded Hornigold for would only make it worse. She served as a constant reminder of his dark deed.

He flinched angrily at his nagging thoughts, flinging his hand through the air. One of the sleeping pirates stirred, turning over and adjusting his blanket.
The bastard was already dead,
Nathan reminded himself, as he had done over and over in the past five days. He was tired of thinking about it.

He shouldered through the door to the captain's cabin, forbidding himself further opportunity to dwell on decisions he couldn't change. Annabelle hadn't budged and neither had the pistol beside the bed. Nathan sat down at the desk on the opposite side of the room, setting his hand atop a map of the Caribbean. He circled his index finger around the island of Tortuga, smiling. What better place to vanish? It would take him three lifetimes to spend his share of the treasure.

He heard Annabelle shuffling out of bed behind him. "Where'd you go?" she murmured groggily.

Nathan tilted his head but didn't look back. "Needed some fresh air. Go back to sleep. It's late."

"Come back to bed," she groaned.

"Soon."

"Fine." He heard her fall back into bed, and then nothing. He looked at Tortuga again, far south and slightly west of
Crusader's
current position, with the islands of Maguana and Leneago between the ship and its destination. He blinked, and the map grew blurry beneath him. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, and he realized how tired he was as exhaustion swept over him.

He stood and turned . . . and Annabelle was standing three feet from him, with his gun in her hand, aimed at his face. He hadn't even heard her move. She'd slipped on her white robe. Her arm was steady, and the gun's barrel didn't budge.

"It's what you want, isn't it?" she said. "You made it so easy for me. Every night you spend an hour polishing and loading this goddamned thing, and you put it on that table, and then you walk away, always with your back to me. What are you doing, testing me? Do you think that makes me feel good about myself? Do you think that makes me feel
wanted
?"

"I was wrong to trade that man's life for yours," he sighed.

The deep scar across her right cheek seemed redder than usual, drawing attention to itself. Perhaps it was amplified by the candlelight, which normally made her mahogany skin that much more beautiful. "Am I not enough?"

He leaned casually against the desk. "I thought you were."

She cocked her head. His lack of fear seemed to intrigue her. "Better to die than spend the rest of your life with your prize?"

He chuckled. "My prize wants to murder me."

The gun's barrel wavered a notch. "I wasn't always certain."

"That's comforting."

"But you just had to test me, didn't you? You'll always want what you can't have, just like every other man. You need a goal. Without it, you feel useless."

He shook his head. "I want the woman I fell in love with."

"That woman never loved you, Nathan, and you've always known that. I gave more fancy to your coin purse."

He sighed in genuine relief. "Thank you for finally admitting it."

"I never claimed anything else." A crease formed between her eyebrows. "I cannot live with a man who resents me."

"I don't," he started, but stopped himself. "I
didn't
. I resented myself. Maybe I just needed time."

"That's the one thing you don't have," she assured him confidently. "Well, that and Kate Lindsay."

"What?"

She cackled. "Oh, don't pretend you don't fancy her. I've seen the way you look at her. You didn't come all the way out here to find me. You came out here to find
her
."

"For the governor," he insisted.

"I wish you could see how silly you look, trying to deny it," she sneered, flinging the gun slightly.

"You don't love me, but you're playing the part of jealous lover?"

"I'm only pointing out your hypocrisy," she sneered, "which you seem blissfully ignorant of. After I've put a bullet in that silly face, I'm going to have a chat with your pretty little redhead. See, I have this suspicion she couldn't care less what happens to you. When I show her your corpse, I'll know for sure. A woman knows a woman. Of course, if she falls to her knees and weeps, I'll have to kill her too. But I don't think that's going to happen, do you?"

Nathan sighed. This had gone on long enough, and he was too disgusted to let it continue. "Part of me considered leaving the bullet in that gun."

She frowned. "What?"

He pointed at the barrel. "It will make a very loud noise, my ears will ring, and the crew will rush to my cabin and find me unkilled, and you with a smoking gun. They'll have at you, and I don't think I'll be able to stop them even if I want to."

She kept on frowning at the pistol. She wasn't getting it. He allowed himself a little smile at her expense. "I wish you could see how silly you look, trying to figure it out. It's quite simple, really. I loaded the powder, but not the shot."

The barrel declined, and her eyes trailed with it. A variety of emotions darkened her face, like storm clouds merging on the horizon. Her eyes darted this way and that, desperate for a solution to this startling turn of events, hoping for the answer to materialize somewhere in the room. For an absurd instant, he nearly felt sorry for her.

And then all the uncertainty left her face, and a grin formed in its place. Her shoulders trembled as giggles bubbled out of her. Dread seeped into Nathan's gut as he realized what a fantastic actress she had always been.

"You think I'm so stupid that I wouldn't check? I loaded it while you were outside." She returned the gun to its former height, level with his forehead. "So tell me, Nathan, did I pass your little test, or fail?"

As he opened his mouth to answer, he heard something snap.