The Pirate's Witch (6 page)

There was no way she could know, of course, that during their original plundering years at sea, Deegan rarely attacked more than a single ship.
 
Frankly, other than slave ships occasionally arriving from Africa in which, unlike some of the pirates in the trade, Deegan had no interest, there were very few ships sailing.
 
Europe was besieged with wars in almost every country, and with only inconvenient quick battles for land rights every few years, the Caribbean was left alone.
 
Several times when the crew had ventured to the civilized parts of Tortuga they had found it under a new country’s rule.
 
Still, with only a few days sailing along the Windward Passage to get back to Tortuga, they needed to carry few supplies.

The filthy cell was empty, save for a single bucket in the corner.
 
The thought of sitting on the wet, decaying hay was out of the question, so the woman leaned back against the hull.
 
Beth was the first to give in to the use of the bucket, and in the hours they were left in the depressing hot brig all the young woman had made their way to it.

They nervously discussed what was to become of them.
 
The fact that the half-million dollar yacht had been sunk without at least being stripped of its valuable equipment was another question they could not figure out an answer to.
 
Suzy asked the others if they thought they were going to be ransomed, and several of the women wondered which would be more valuable to their husbands in the scheme of the ‘Ten Year Plan’, their wives… or their wealth.

Thelma even made the nervous comment that suggested perhaps their husbands were behind the whole scheme.
 
Hannah quickly dispatched the notion by assuring them there was no way that her husband, Billy, would allow them to sink the yacht.
 
He had named it after his mother, and would have insisted she be set adrift, even if the men were behind the plan.
 
The young women eventually agreed, and that left them with the chilling conclusion they were to be lost in one of the many lucrative white slavery markets they had heard of.

It was late afternoon when Deegan figured they had distanced themselves far enough from the wreck, and he turned to the crew and asked, “Everyone has decided?”
 
It was quite the coup to have managed to capture a woman for each of them to occupy their monotonous time on the island.
 
The men nodded their agreement, as the only discrepancy had been settled with a roll of the dice over the disposition of Marsha and Patti.

Deegan led Barton, Tommy and Richard to the hold, issuing warnings to curb their more aggressive desires until they returned to the island.
 
None of the pirates knew if the women they captured became a part of the curse when they boarded the boat or set foot on the island.
 
The men took their Captain’s words seriously, as it was unlikely any of their friends would be willing to share their woman if there was an ‘accident’.

The woman jumped at the sounds of the heavy boots stomping down the stairs, and pressed further into the hull.
 
Beth and Suzy began to silently cry.
 
The Captain came through the narrow opening of the companionway, which required him to turn slightly sideways to navigate.
 
Three of the crew members followed him and approached the bars.
 
Deegan unlocked the padlock and leaned against the hull opposite the cell while his crew retrieved their quarry.

Beth let out a sob and tried to bat Richard’s hand away.
 
Patti wailed when Tommy pulled her roughly from the cell, and Suzy gave a piercing shriek when Barton singled her out.
 
The girls were led sobbing and struggling down the companionway until the sounds became muffled behind closing doors.

Deegan’s black eyes pierced Monique with lascivious intensity, and she whimpered and tried to hide behind Marsha.
 
An amused glint showed through his desire, and he said, “Shall I once again fetch you, Clarette, or do you wish to accompany me unaided?
 
Surely, you have returned for some purpose I am anxious to discover.”

Monique moaned, “I’m not Clarette.
 
I told you, you’ve made a mistake.”

Deegan’s long stride traveled the distance of the hold, and he entered the cell and tossed Marsha out of his way.
 
He grabbed Monique’s arm, and she cried when she looked into his angry eyes.
 
Her fingers frantically worked at prying his strong hand loose, but his grip was so strong that she imagined she could already feel the bruising.

Deegan dragged her out of the cell and the door slammed shut with a loud metal clang.
 
He threaded the padlock and locked it, saying to the remaining women, “Your companions will come for you after they have set anchor.”
 
He was pleased with their whimpers, and pushed Monique into the dark hall leading topside.
 
She fought the whole way to the stern of the ship where his quarters were situated under the helm.
 
After the assurance from Johnny the ship was secured and an agreement that he would bring Thelma on deck so he could keep watch in the unlikely event they were followed, Deegan opened the heavy wooden door to his quarters and tossed Monique onto the bed.

He stared at her watery eyes and rested back against the closed doors.
 
Though he intended to make full use of her and was quite pleased with this new form she had returned in, he would curb his more sadistic tendencies until they reached the island.
 
Last time, even with his light abuse, her curse had resulted in the loss of his crew, the loss of any enjoyment from his plunder, and most important… the loss of the sea.

The small vessels they had managed to put together on the island, would not let them travel further than a short distance from the beach for fishing before the vines would untie and the deck begin to separate.
 
The first time, they thought it was an error in their construction.
 
It took a week to make a new raft, so after the third mysterious dismantling on the water, they learned to curb their distance.

Monique scrambled to the far side of the bed.
 
With his large frame blocking the exit, she knew she could not get passed him.
 
Her eyes searched the room for a weapon, and they focused on a knife on the desk.
 
It was the same dirk Clarette had tried to use two centuries before, and Deegan had laid it there as an afterthought, just to see if she would remember.
 
He had now guessed that the girl was unaware she shared her form with the witch, but in her sea green eyes he saw Clarette battling to resurface.
 
It was Clarette he truly desired to punish, though he had no qualm about using Monique to facilitate his plans.

Monique dived for the weapon, but unlike Clarette who had so brazenly faced him, this woman dashed back to the bed and moved far against the planks.
 
“You choose not to fight me this time?
 
Ah… I seem to remember I used that very blade to assist me in removing your pretty blue dress.”

He’s insane, completely insane, and talking nonsense about this other woman.
 
Monique shivered, fully aware that even with the knife his size and strength could easily win over her defenses.
 
She watched warily as he sat down at his desk and stretched his long legs out so they blocked the path to the door.
 
Not that she had any idea what she could possibly do if she managed to escape the cabin; the need to simply put distance between herself and the terrifying pirate was uppermost in her mind.

Deegan reached into a desk drawer and was pleased to find the remaining splash of brandy in the bottle he had acquired from the frigate on which he had captured Clarette.
 
Every time they sailed, he would drink a small toast to his witch and vow to see her again some day.
 
It seemed whenever the schooner returned to the cove, things aboard were returned to the original state they were on the day Clarette’s curse was declared.
 
Any forgotten plunder was gone and any repairs they made were undone, so they eventually stopped bothering to make any effort even to clean the vessel, as even those menial acts were reversed.

“It is the end of the brandy, my witch.
 
It seems fitting the last toast should be made while I am once again able to look into your eyes.”
 
Deegan emptied the bottle and arched his brow.
 
“I wonder, if I had finished it sooner, would you have returned to me then?”

The pirate waved his hand at her.
 
“Would you prefer to reveal your treasures yourself this time, or do you once more require my assistance?”

Monique’s wide eyes studied him, but she remained silent and, other than quivering in fright, she made no move.
 
The big man sighed and stood up, “Very well.”

Monique kicked out at him ineffectually with her small bare feet, and she shrieked when his hand smacked down on her thigh.
 
“Stop that,” he growled.
 
“It seems such a waste of time to start over with you.”

“I’m not Clarette,” Monique screamed.

In a swift move, Deegan plucked the knife from her hand.
 
“But you are, girl.
 
The centuries could not make me forget your eyes of the sea.”

Monique whimpered when he crawled towards her and he ran a surprisingly gentle thumb through her tears.
 
He whispered, “How I wanted to bring you back to Tortuga and flaunt you in front of the others.
 
To have you kneeling by my side, and everyone who looked upon you would be reminded of the sea.
 
You denied me that pleasure, Clarette… and you took that very sea away from me.
 
Such torment.
 
And now, you will suffer the same torture you have exiled me to.”

Monique managed to stutter, “Please… please don’t hurt me.
 
My husband has money, and he’ll pay more than you could possibly earn for me.”

The remark surprised him.
 
“You think I want to sell you?”
 
His laugh echoed off the walls.
 
“Oh no, no, Clarette.
 
You know that would be impossible.
 
And besides, my wish is to cause you the same torment I have suffered, though perhaps unlike the others, with you it will be an endless condition.”

Monique issued a sob, and once again realized the man was mad.
 
Without warning, his other hand reached out and tore the flimsy light sleeping tank from her body.
 
Monique shrieked and covered her bared breasts.
 
The pirate leered at the flesh still bulging along the edges of her arms, and his fingers hooked through the waistband of her pants.
 
She kicked in panic and clawed at his hands, but his efforts were hardly stalled.

Her garments were tossed onto the floor and she grabbed at the quilt to cover herself.
 
Deegan was pleased with her fear-filled whimpers as he stood to disrobe.
 
His cock burst from his pants, painfully throbbing with anticipation of being buried once again in her moist depths, as if it longed to experience the sensations of their last encounter.

Monique’s eyes widened at the size of him and she shuddered while she looked helplessly for a means of escape.
 
Deegan grabbed her ankle, and she wailed while he turned her over to clap his hand down on her bottom.
 
“Stop this nonsense, Clarette.”
 
He laid his heavy weight on top of her, anticipating the excitement of once more giving her the choice of her torture.

“This new form is just as beautiful as when I saw you last.”
 
He brushed his hands down her quivering body.
 
“I give you the same choice, sorcière,” and he trailed his finger down the crevice of her bottom.

Monique trembled beneath him.
 
Frank had never suggested the act he considered a perversion, and Monique shrieked with the realization this man’s size would rip her apart.
 
She scrambled for a solution to the violation she knew he was intent on perpetrating, and just as Clarette had done so long ago, the pirate was pleased to feel the minor effort of her trying to turn.