The Reinvented Miss Bluebeard (London Paranormal 03) (32 page)

"Soon you'll be mine," the wererat captain snarled, then he turned to attack Adam.

"Never!" Eve retorted.

Adam saw dark figures sneaking up behind her, and he yelled, "Darling, there!" He pointed.

Grabbing her pistol, she spun and fired. The shot hit one rat bastard right in the eye. He fell and did not rise.

Adam grinned, admiring his wife's deadly aim as she dodged another wererat and fired at close range, blowing out its brains. Fester jumped upon a nearby pi-rat's back with a shout of rage, his little face red. "I want me gold!" he cried. And two more of Hook's crew jumped overboard to avoid his maniacal charge.

As Hugo sailed past on a rope, Adam admitted, Yes, the lunatics were in full swing. And those like Gallant and Fester were in charge.

He turned to find Eve, sniffing, intending to use his keen sense of smell. She had disappeared far into the maddening crowd. The foolish woman had risked her life to save him, and surprisingly so had Captain Bluebeard. He had to save her. He had to break free before Hook returned.

Blood loss slowed Adam's shape changing, but finally he felt the tremors begin and the skin on his back and shoulders stretch. He fought, working hard not to transform completely; he wanted to be able to explain his shape to Eve. But his eyesight became sharper, and the raw, ravaged flesh on his back slit open for massive wings to emerge. Talonlike hooks burst through his toes and fingertips. He used those to rip free of his bonds.

Throwing back his head, he stretched, feeling strength course through him as the ropes fell away. Long, brownish-gray wings had erupted from his back. A dusting of feathers now covered his chest and arms, while a short beak had formed—a very sharp, slightly curved beak. A beak that he would soon use to good advantage, for he was immediately confronted by none other than Captain Hook himself.

"Damn you to hell! You're a werehawk," the head pirat hissed between his daggerlike teeth. He raised his hook to the sky and shook it, raging at heaven and hell and everything in between. Adam valiantly faced the monster.

In the process of reloading her pistol, Eve glanced over at Adam to see how he was faring. Gasping, she was shocked into stillness at the sight of her lover. Adam was a werehawk, and his wings were magnificent!

"Blast me to smithereens with a bottle of rum," she mumbled, appalled at the fact that she hadn't even known this part of his nature. He must be of a royal lineage to be able to blend into humanity so smoothly.

Off to her side, she heard Major Gallant charging up and down the deck, yelling, while she finished loading her pistols. She shook her head grimly. Major Gallant should show more fangs and less dash, and Adam shouldn't have kept his heritage a secret. But while she ought to be furious, she found she was not. He was such a splendid specimen, in the prime of life, and with such magnificent wings and glorious feathers… He was also battling for his very life.

As her two supernatural suitors clashed, Eve held her breath, praying that her beloved would prevail. Hook
couldn't
win. She winced as he clawed Adam across the chest, but Adam struck back and slashed Hook's face with a talon. Rivulets of blood filled the wererat's good eye. And though the fight turned bloodier from there, Eve was forced to turn her attention back to her own precarious situation. She was surrounded by three of Hook's goons.

She immediately shot one of them with a pistol, but her second shot was delayed as the firing pin jammed. She threw the pistol aside and reached for her cutlass, feeling the wererat's fetid breath on her shoulder. In the nick of time, she was saved by Teeter, who grabbed the rapacious rat and threw him over the side of the ship. The last rat attacking Eve saw that he was alone and turned to scurry away. But he lost the race as Mrs. Monkfort set him on fire with a torch, screeching, "Rats! Dirty, nasty little buggers! Off the ship, I say—off the ship!"

The wererat obeyed, jumping into the water with the smell of scorched hair trailing after. The intrepid Mrs. Monkfort was encouraged by the result, and began to shove her torch at two more nearby wererats.

Observing Mrs. Monkfort's success, Pavlov stepped up. He urged the others to pick up torches—with the exception of Sir Loring, Jack the Rip, and Mr. Pryce, who, being werecreatures, had a fear of fire. Rapidly Bluebeard's crew began forcing Hook's over the side. Soon only a small contingent remained, encircled by the Towers lunatic army.

"Deserting a sinking ship?" Eve called out to the fleeing wererats, and managed a shaky laugh. "Bravo! Bravo!" Then, feeling a whisper of wind behind her, she turned to find Adam. His chest was bleeding slightly, but behind him Hook lay dead.

Eve shook her head. Evil would always come to an end, and good would always triumph. Or so she wanted to believe.

Adam's breathing slowed as he saw that Eve was not injured. She might be a bit of a mess, what with her hair waving in the night breeze and gunpowder on her clothes and cheeks, but didn't she look lovely? He would never forget the way she looked tonight. The wind whipped through her hair, and the cool sea breeze brought a rosy hue to her cheeks. He wanted to enfold her in his arms—wings—forever. Yet, in spite of the almost irresistible urge to clasp her close, he remained motionless, trying to judge what she was feeling about his ancestry. His heart pounded in his chest. Her grandparents had been a mixed couple, and he hoped Eve had no prejudices.

"Eve?" he said.

His fears were swiftly displaced. She gave him a blinding smile and rushed into his arms, clasping her hands around his neck, holding on for all she was worth.

"Oh, Adam—you could have died!" she cried, breathless. "What would I have done without you?"

"Have an empty bed again." Mrs. Fawlty just had to put in her two guineas.

A few chuckles were heard, but Eve lovingly touched Adam's feathers. "My, my. I must say that you are a fine-feathered figure of a man. Adam, you're a werehawk! Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. "Mmm, soft."

"Darling girl,
you
could have been hurt!" Adam countered. He wrapped Eve in his wings. She was smiling up at him. Apparently his supernatural heritage hadn't shocked or repulsed her. And she didn't appear to be mad at him for keeping the secret.

Glancing around at the crowd of the dotty and dithering, he crowed. Above, Hugo swung from the crow's nest.

Junger and Jack the Rip began howling in unison, raising their voices—and fortunately, nothing else—in triumphant song. Major Gallant charged up the steps to the main deck, calling, "The scurvy rats, they jumped ship! Charge, me buckos—once more into the breach!"

All Eve wanted was once more into Adam's breeches.

On the lower deck, Mrs. Monkfort was already busy swabbing, and Fester was busy searching out his pilfered pots. Sir Loring was petting some dirt he had brought with him, while Mr. Pryce was relieving himself on a railing. Eve was glad he was acting more wolfish than flylike.

As his wife broke out of his embrace and doubled over laughing, Adam quickly followed. Life had never looked better to him. Even Captain Bluebeard was chortling, his dancing blue eyes merry with amusement—and victory.

Several moments passed with the golden glow of the full moon shining down on the deckfull of merrymakers. Congratulations and praise were uttered. Everyone was in a gay mood, even those who had been wounded.

Suddenly, Eve stopped chuckling and narrowed her eyes at her impossible husband. Yanking on Adam's feathered chest, she spoke fiercely. "I was so mad at you when I discovered Fester really had gold and that it was missing. I thought you'd taken it. I was miserable. I thought that you'd betrayed me. Oh, Adam, I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" She tugged again on the feathered chest. "How could you let me be so miserable? Next time you're kidnapped by a deranged rodent, leave a note."

"I will, my darling," he agreed, seeing how upset his dear wife was. He would promise her anything. And pulling her close to his side, he kissed the top of her forehead and chided her softly, "I don't know many women who would have risked their lives for me. You're a pearl, and the only treasure I'll ever again need. Your price is far above rubies. Now promise me you won't do anything so stupid again."

"Stupid?" she shouted in outrage. "Shiver me timbers. I was worried sick about you! Stupid?"

Taking in the scene, Bluebeard knew when to interrupt. Using a father-in-law's prerogative, he spoke: "Now, Evie, Adam's just worried about your health—as all good husbands should be. But, Adam, me daughter ain't got a stupid bone in her body."

Both Adam and Eve glared at him.

Bluebeard glared back. "It's me right to counsel! What kind of father would I be if I didn't?"

Eve stamped her foot. "The way I see it, you don't need to be giving advice but an apology to Adam."

"Now, why should I be apologizing when my little trick has given him the best thing he's ever had?"

"Father," Eve threatened.

"What apology?" Adam asked, noting how Captain Bluebeard avoided his gaze.

"It weren't
that
awful. I don't know what me daughter is carrying on about." The pirate captain looked abashed. "I might have played both ye and Hook against each other in me plan to see Eve happily wed. I always wanted ye to be the one to stay and be a true husband to me lassie, but I feared ye would balk at being permanently wed. And though I admired some things about Hook, he would never have made a good husband."

The Captain's comments took Adam aback. "Eve, do you see any planks about?" he asked.

Eve gave a startled gasp, half-amused by her husband's comment. But placing her hand on his arm, she gave a squeeze. "I've traded my fascination with planks for family harmony."

His gaze flicked between the two Bluebeards, and Adam thought hard. Then he nodded in acceptance of both the apology and the knowledge that the captain considered him a fitting mate for his beloved daughter. "You did what you had to do. And the result is paradise found rather than lost."

An amused smile graced Eve's lovely features; then she turned to her father, shaking her head slightly. "I should box your ears. Or at least scold you. But I find I can't. You made a good move, Father. One worthy of the Bluebeard heritage. Aye, you old scalawag, we all discovered treasure far from where we buried it."

Adam gave Eve a wink at her mention of buried treasure, then turned toward the others. "I want to thank you all for this gallant rescue," he said. "You've saved my life, and I am deeply in your debt. I have never been more proud."

"Hear, hear," Major Gallant cried. "But I was only one of your rescuers. I wish you the best."

Mrs. Fawlty seconded the major's speech. "Aye, you are a fine, lusty man, and a good master. We love ye, Dr. Adam—all of us. And Dr. Eve? Why, she loves ye best of all, and so she should, even if you are part foreign."

Eve giggled. Adam could feel her warm breath stirring against his chest feathers. He grinned at the tart housekeeper, and at Teeter, who stood beside her bloody and disheveled, nodding with stiff grace.

"You're family, Dr. Adam, just like our fine Dr. Eve."

Hugo swung by on a mainsail rope, cackling and trying to tinker with the ship's bell. He called out, "Ye climb the ropes as good as me. Ding-dong, the Hook is dead. The wicked Hook, he was a crook."

"Oh, get down from there, Hugo!" Teeter scolded. He didn't relish climbing the rigging to fetch the wayward dwarf.

Adam Pierce Hawkmore—alias Dr. Adam Griffin—did something he hadn't done in years: his eyes filled with tears. "Aye," he finally managed to say, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "I feel the same way. We're family." And so saying, he took three leaping steps and soared off into the sky.

"Adam! What are you doing?" Eve screeched. He had scooped her gently into the air, and she stared at the sea beneath her. She felt the fierce rush of his wings and heard a victorious cry from his lips.

"Taking you to heaven," he replied. "Or at least the heavens."

His words stirred her Bluebeard blood as the wind caressed her face. Glancing down, she saw the deck of the ship far below.

Noting her tension, Adam asked, "Do you want me to set you back down?"

She thought about it for only a moment. If pirates couldn't take risks, then who could? "No." She was amazed and afraid, but didn't want to return. Not yet. She'd spent too long trying to keep others grounded. "We're flying," she said, the words whispered in amazement.

Again, she looked to the sea below. Tiny lights from the lanterns were all that was visible of the ship. In the moon glow, waves crashed and crested. The world was so beautiful from this distance. The violence on board was now hidden, and peace surrounded her.

Breathing deeply, she simply enjoyed being alive. The strong wind was cold and smelled of sea salt. It was a whole new perspective. "I can't believe I'm flying," she repeated. She lovingly patted Adam's chest, snuggling closer to him.

He chuckled, leaning his head lower so that she could hear his answer. "It's what werehawks do."

"You take my breath away," she said.

"It's the height."

"You romantic feather-wit, you," she teased. As she laid her head against his chest, she found the feathers were soft as goose down. "How I love you."

"Thank you for taking a chance on me," he forced himself to say. "For taking that first terrifying leap of faith and giving me your trust. I know how difficult it was for you under the circumstances. But you are my mate. I knew it from the first. I'll always love and cherish you."

He could feel her tears wet his chest, tears that stirred his soul in a thousand ways.

"My beloved, where are we going?" she asked.

"Home."

Eve nestled closer against Adam's warmth, feeling stupendously weightless. Such a remarkable sensation, this flying. Far beneath her she could see tiny lights glowing. The wind was brisk yet invigorating. Her heart filled to overflowing with love.

Rubbing Adam's chest affectionately, she asked curiously, "What is your real last name?"

"Hawkmore," Adam replied.