The Sea Wolves (26 page)

“Orders, sir?” someone said, and Jack glanced around for Ghost. But Vukovich had been addressing him. His animal voice found sarcasm an easy tone to carry.

“We drift until I say otherwise,” Jack said, brain working frantically. What could he salvage from this? How could he make the plan work, when Ghost always seemed to be there to haunt any chance they had at escape?

“And then?” Vukovich asked.

“And then… I'll tell you.” Jack and the pirate stared at each other, but he could never intimidate such a creature. He paced the deck instead, grabbing hold of something as each swell knocked against the drifting ship's hull and rocked the boat as if it rode a great storm. He paused by the skiff he had chosen, conscious of its slight movements each time the
Larsen
rolled—it ought to have been strapped down tightly, but he had loosened its restraints. With the ship drifting, it would be even easier to launch, and the temptation to do so then was great. The fog was so thick that from the
Larsen
's stern, the bow would be a nebulous place.

But what of Sabine?

Jack wanted nothing more than to venture belowdecks to see what was happening. There had been no sound since Ghost's descent—no cries or screams, which was good. But Ghost had deemed going below more important than remaining on deck to oversee their flight from his predatory brother. Sabine was the only reason.
I have a sea witch to put on trial
, he'd said. Jack could not believe that any trial conducted by Ghost would be fair, and Sabine's guilt was already without doubt. Death had almost rammed them into the depths, and she had not whispered a word of warning about his arrival.

“I'm not sure I've ever seen him this furious,” Louis said. He had come to stand beside Jack without making a sound, and now they both held on to the skiff's gunwale as the Larsen drifted side-on to the waves.

“He didn't look furious,” Jack said.

“That's what I mean. He's holding it all in, like a hurricane contained. And Ghost is not a man to hold back his rage.”

“That's no concern of mine.”

“Really?” Louis asked. “Sabine is a concern,
non?
Because it's she who will be suffering. She had to know the
Charon
was nearby. We might have given Death Nilsson the slip for now, but there's blame to lay, and where there's blame there will be consequences.”

“What consequences?” Jack asked, blood flowing cold. But Louis moved away, fading like a wraith into the thickening fog.

He had to go below. Prepared or not—and he knew that he would
never
be ready to face Ghost one-on-one—he could not remain on deck while Ghost was below with Sabine. It was not only the information she had withheld; there was that look in the captain's eyes when he had seen her and Jack on the same cot. Whether he loved her or merely lusted for her, the result was the same. He coveted her body and soul, and now he would punish her for the yearning she inspired within him just as much as for her sins against him.

Jack made for the covered stairwell, but just as he reached it, he heard the thump of booted feet from below. Ghost emerged, an enraged man being born from darkness into a world he could only hate. His teeth were gritted, eyes watering, hands fisted, and he brought with him a miasma of fury that seemed to scar the air around him.

Jack stepped back as Ghost lashed out, but he could not avoid the blow. The captain's huge fist caught him across the shoulder as he retreated, and he spun and fell, crawling quickly across the deck in a vain attempt to avoid the next attack. A dreadful realization hit Jack then, and filled him with a terrible hopelessness:
He'll kill me now, because he's mad at Sabine but cannot afford to kill her
.

But as Jack scurried away, he realized that Ghost had not followed him. Instead the captain strode the length of the ship, each footfall an impact as shattering as a giant wave, each gasped breath the whip of a hurricane. Tree stood before him, the mountainous man's black skin stark against the canvas of fog around the ship. Ghost batted him aside. Tree flew across the deck and struck the mainmast, the grunt as he hit not masking the sound of wood cracking.

The captain reached the bow and kicked at Maurilio, who was already making repairs to the railing shattered by the
Charon
's cannon. The dark-eyed man jumped back, but Ghost's next kick caught him across the thighs. He bounced from the railing and tumbled to the deck, motionless, subservient beneath the glare of his attacker. But Ghost had no particular target for his rage. He was angry at the world, and his world was this ship and those who sailed it.

Now, we go now!
Jack thought. He had to fetch Sabine first. He eyed the doorway leading down, thinking quickly through what he had to do and how long it would take. A fool's errand, he knew, and as he took in a deep breath in preparation, Louis spoke from across the deck.

“Be still, Jack.” It was whispered but sounded loud against the silence on the ship. Ghost's rage had driven all noise down, and even the sea appeared calmer than before, as if afraid of this great beast's fury.

The captain stormed back along the ship, punching a hole in the forecastle bulkhead, glancing left and right as he came. He had caught Tree and Maurilio on the way to the bow, but returning he found no one in his way.

Pausing by the doorway, gripping the frame so hard that the wood was crushed to splinters in his fist, he turned and looked directly at Jack.

He sees right into me
, Jack thought, and he had never felt so exposed.

“Make sail,” Ghost grunted. “South, at all speed. We're going after him. It's time.”

He disappeared below, and a breeze whipped a skein of fog across the deck as the ship sighed with relief.

Jack prowled the deck above the rear cabins, circling Vukovich at the wheel, watching the other men work, seeing Tree's massive shadow as he helped Maurilio repair the damage at the bow, and his frustration and desperation were close to destroying him. Sabine was below with Ghost, and there was nothing he could do. He possessed both brawn and brains, but knew that it was only the latter that would save him and Sabine from a terrible fate. His frustration was in not being able to conceive of a plan that would result in anything other than their deaths.

Kelly was close by, and Jack had already caught that sly one looking his way more than once. With Ghost engaged below—and the thought of what he might be doing down there was terrible to Jack, abhorrent, because though he knew the monster would not kill Sabine while he still needed her, Ghost was not averse to torture—Jack felt the crew's antagonism toward him coming to the fore. He had never felt himself truly under Ghost's protection until that protection was absent. Vukovich sneered when Jack tried giving him an order, and Kelly's glances were becoming more and more threatening. Jack was sure he detected a slight lengthening of Kelly's teeth, and a prominence in his nose absent before now.

When he heard Sabine's scream, he was almost grateful it gave him reason to rush below. Whatever would happen, would happen now—no more pretense.

He went for the steps, but Kelly grabbed him from behind and threw him across the deck. Jack protected his face with his hands, but when he struck the railing, his shoulder exploded in pain, and he only hoped the
crack!
he heard was wood, not bone. This was the attack he'd been expecting, and it had come at the worst possible moment.

Jack rolled onto his back, drawing the knife he'd taken from the kitchen and bringing it around in a useless attempt to defend himself. Kelly was already airborne, midleap, fur bristling around his neck and across his cheeks, fingers merging into paws, and claws solidifying from his nails, and Jack hated the monster with all his heart. It was the unfairness of things that stung the most—he vowed in that instant that he would fight until he could fight no more, and that pain would fuel his fury.

But Kelly did not land. Louis struck him in the side, and the two of them rolled back against the wheelhouse. Hope leaped in Jack's heart—he would not fight alone after all. But Vukovich was already stalking around toward Jack, and he stepped over the snarling, brutal knot of violence that Louis and Kelly had become.

They're not changing
, Jack thought, but then he saw that Vukovich had begun to change after all, the evolution subtle. He possessed the eyes of a wolf.

Jack stood, watching Vukovich, wondering how he could kill the monster, and then a massive shape appeared in front of him. Tree. But he was facing
away
from Jack.

“Not now,” Tree rasped.

The big man's intervention had brought the scuffle between Louis and Kelly to an end. The two pirates rose to their feet, bristling with hatred and bloodlust. But the moment when they might have killed each other had passed, for now. The ship swayed beneath them all, waiting for the bones of those who did not survive the day.

“You're a fool, Kelly,” Louis whispered. “This isn't the time.”

“What better time for food?” Kelly growled.

“You think eating Ghost's human pet will nourish you?” Tree said. His voice rumbled like far-off thunder. No one replied.

“Whose side do you think you're on?” Vukovich said, and a light began to burn brightly in Jack's mind, a spark of hope and the seed of an idea.

Sides
. Until now it had been Ghost and the rest, but with the crew fragmenting—over him, or Sabine, or whatever else might be the cause—they were becoming weaker than ever before. They had been growing angrier and more frustrated with Ghost with every passing hour, but none of them save Finn had confronted him. The way of the pack would be to challenge Ghost to single combat, with the victor leading the pack forward. None dared to do so, knowing they could never defeat him alone. But there had been rumblings and whispers, a shared anger, and now Jack had to take advantage of that.

It was his only chance at saving Sabine. Whether Ghost loved or desired her, and no matter how much he might need her, this time she had pushed him too far. If he could not trust her, he might well go beyond torture and just kill her. Either way, the time had come to act.

“Don't you see why he's told us to go south?” Jack said.

“Shut up, meat!” Kelly said. He was standing along the railing away from Jack, no longer wolfish but still with hunger in his eyes.

“Let him speak,” Louis said.

“Why?” Vukovich sneered.

“Because Ghost intends him to be as much a part of this crew as you.”

There was silence at that, broken only by a haunting, hooting sound from deep within the fog.
Whales singing
, Jack thought, but it could have been errant spirits in mourning.

“We're going south because he's not running,” Jack said. “You saw the
Charon
. How many men does it take to man a ship like that?”

“None,” Kelly said. “Death's pack is older than ours. He's not like Ghost; he'd welcome no mere
man
aboard.”

Maurilio had appeared from the bow, listening, watching. Demetrius and Ogre were out of sight, but so were Huginn and Muninn, likely down in the cabin guarding Ghost's door while he—

But Jack could not think about what the captain might be doing to the woman he loved, and what that scream had meant. That would inspire fear and rage, and there lay madness. He needed all his wits about him right now if he hoped to save them both.

“He plans to swing around and attack the
Charon
,” Jack said. “He fled into the fog to give himself time to plan, and project the impression that he was running scared. But within the hour Ghost will emerge from his cabin to give the order to sail west. Death will be searching for us. He won't be difficult to find. And when we meet the
Charon
, there will be a battle, and all of you will die.”

“Don't be so sure,” Kelly said, a growl behind his words.

“He wouldn't do it,” Vukovich said. “It's suicide against that ship, and that pack. And if Ghost could kill his brother, he'd have done it years ago.”

Jack shook his head, glancing from one crewman to another. “You don't get it—
any
of you. He's used you. Ghost isn't a pirate. Not really. He cares nothing for gold and treasure, and he hunts only to feed himself and to make the lot of you better killers. All this time, he's been working to best his brother, to make himself a better pirate and a more vicious wolf than Death Nilsson. He put this pack together to help him do that. You're his little army, and you never knew it. And every one of you is expendable.”