Call of the Sea (8 page)

“I should have warned you sooner. Stopped him.” The only friend she had, and because of her inaction he could’ve died. Tears stung her eyes. “I should never have come.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe having a girl aboard really is bad luck. I’m a terrible sailor.”

Nelson let out a raspy chuckle. “Hogwash, El. You may be inexperienced, and even carry bad luck in your pocket.” His brown eyes sparkled and a smile pulled at his lips. “But you’re going to make one hell of a pirate.”

Her chest tightened at his words.
I’m sure Papa will be thrilled to hear that bit of good news.

Part One

Chapter Nine

Port of Gibraltar - August, 1665

Daniel followed Captain Winters down the crowded streets of Gibraltar, heading for the Taylor mansion at the far edge of the city. After months of finagling and strategic palm greasing, they’d earned themselves a face to face with their target, who was purportedly providing large amounts of weapons to the Dutch.

Winters dodged to avoid a man on horseback travelling up the road in the other direction. “General McTavish said Jashir would meet us at the auction to discuss the final arrangements. I hope he doesn’t delay things. We’ve already spent longer on this than I’d planned, and we need to get back to searching for Ellie.”

“I still don’t understand how selling a shipment of guns to a man we know will only sell them to a country we’re at war with makes any sense.”

“McTavish wants to find out who his Dutch contact is. He’s decided he doesn’t want to just cut off an arm by taking out Jashir, he wants the monster’s head too.”

Daniel skirted around a slow moving group of men. “I still think it’s an asinine idea.”

“Well, when you make general, you can give the orders. Until then, shut your pie hole about it. I don’t like this any more than you do.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The columned mansion sat at the top of a hill overlooking the infamous Gates of Gibraltar. If it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation, Daniel would have enjoyed the breathtaking view of the narrow gateway into the Mediterranean Sea.

“Just remember why we’re here. Stay sharp, lad.”

Daniel wiggled his fingers, as if he could release all of his pent-up apprehension through their tips. “Aye, Captain.”

Captain Winters knocked on the ornately carved door of Gabriel Taylor, a notorious smuggler with a head for making money. Each summer Taylor held his annual inventory clearance auction, and the guest list included a collection of the most nefarious privateers and pirates on the seas. Pirates like Jashir.

The portal swung open to reveal a squat man who appeared to have no neck; his head merely sat atop broad shoulders. The man inspected Daniel and Captain Winters from head to toe with no concern for speed. “Password,” he grumbled finally.

“Herring smells like shit,” Winters said.

The doorman grunted and stepped aside.

Daniel followed Captain Winters into the grand mansion.

They entered through a large open foyer. A staircase leading to the second floor stood on the far end of the space, and two wide archways led to rooms on each side of the hall. Light twinkled down on them from the mammoth crystal chandelier hanging above them.
I’d hate to be the one to have to light all those tapers.

The doorman swung a fat arm toward the second arched entryway on the left. “Bidding will be held in the grand ballroom.” He twisted his round torso and fingered toward the other side of the hall. “Food and beverages are laid out on the right, in the dining room.” He flashed a toothless grin. “If you’re interested in the company of one of Taylor’s treats, talk with Ramona. She is mingling about somewhere. You can’t miss her.”

“Thanks,” Captain Winters replied.

The man nodded and went back to his post at the door.

Winters nudged Daniel. “Come on. Let’s see if Jashir is here yet.” He headed for the grand ballroom.

Another chandelier, similar in style to the one in the entryway, hung in the center of the space. An assortment of chairs and sofas lined the walls of the smoky room. Small clusters of men were scattered about, talking, smoking, and drinking.

A tall woman with long blonde hair and startling Asian eyes drew Daniel’s gaze. The plunging neckline of her black dress framed her round breasts and highlighted her pale skin. She leaned against a large olive-skinned man in a turban and robes, her painted red lips whispering into his ear.

The man belted a throaty laugh, drawing curious gazes his way.

“That’s Jashir,” Winters said. He headed in the couple’s direction, offering a greeting here and there as he passed men he knew.

Daniel trailed behind the captain at a relaxed pace, taking a mental inventory of those assembled. With the wide array of riffraff on display, he needed to be prepared for anything. Tension twisted his stomach, but he put on a mask of calm confidence, as if he cavorted with cutthroats and pirates all the time.

Jashir noticed their approach and turned to face them, his arm around Ramona. He flashed a row of white teeth. “Good afternoon, Captain Winters. I am happy to see you decided to come. You will not be disappointed in the goods Master Taylor offers his guests.”

“We’re not really in the market to buy, but you already know that.” Captain Winters offered his hand in greeting, playing the game. “It’s good to see you, Jashir.”

Jashir grasped his fingers in a halfhearted handshake. He gave the woman plastered to his side a squeeze. “This lovely flower is Ramona Sawyer. Ramona, this is Captain Winters and…” He waved an arm toward Daniel. “I don’t know you.” His arm dropped to his side, and his eyes darkened. “Who are you?”

Daniel’s throat tightened. He forced out the words. “Daniel O’Roarke, sir.”

“He’s my lieutenant,” Winters said.

Jashir released his hold on Ramona. “Go make some new friends, kitten.” He patted her backside possessively.

Ramona purred a sultry laugh. “Pleasure to meet you, boys.” She traced a long fingernail down Daniel’s shoulder and lifted an appreciative brow. “Especially you.” Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Pity.” Ramona emitted a dramatic sigh and walked away, hips swaying. The faint scent of lavender trailed behind her.

Jashir returned his attention to Captain Winters. “Let us go upstairs. There are private rooms available for our discussions.”

Daniel and the captain followed him from the ballroom and up the wide staircase at the back of the massive foyer. At the top, he turned down the hall to the right. Iron sconces with flickering tapers lined the wall on the left, casting the long walkway in an eerie yellow light.

Jashir entered the third door on the left, Captain Winters and Daniel close behind him.

A round card table sat in the center of the space with six chairs placed around it. Red velvet sofas nested beneath the room’s two windows, and a pair of cots with folded blankets on them waited in the corner. A stocked bar rounded out the room’s decoration.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen.” Jashir pulled out one of the wooden chairs, the thin legs scratching across the floorboards. He sat down in a flutter of robes.

Captain Winters followed suit, taking a chair across from him.

Daniel remained by the door.

Winters leaned back in his seat, resting an elbow on the table. “I’m not much for small talk, and we all know why we’re here, so let’s get down to it, shall we? We have the flintlocks, two hundred and fifty of them, just as you requested.”

Jashir rubbed his chin. “I had expected it to take longer for you to procure such a large number of firearms. This is pleasing news. When can delivery be arranged?”

“Just as soon as you pay for them,” Winters said.

“Easily done. I will bring the funds to your ship on the morrow, and my men will transport the cargo to my vessel. Expect me shortly after dawn.” Jashir rose from his chair. “Now, if you will excuse me, gentlemen, the auction is starting shortly, and I have my sights on some of the Asian silks Taylor managed to acquire from the Orient.” He extended his hand to the captain in a stiff motion.

Captain Winters gave it a light shake. “Until tomorrow.”

Jashir stepped past Daniel and left the room.

***

Ellie rolled her eyes and knocked on the mansion door. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard, Nelson. Mermaids don’t exist. They’re a myth.”

The door swung open.

“Herring smells like shit,” Ellie said, then turned back to Nelson. “So how’s this Taylor bloke supposed to sell you one of their tails?”

The doorman stepped aside, allowing them to enter.

Ellie continued chattering away. “I’m telling you, it’s a fake. I don’t care how famous the guy’s auctions are.”

Nelson ignored her, crossing the long foyer in determined strides, and headed up the stairs with Ellie hard on his heels. “Just because you have not seen a thing doesn’t make it imaginary. My people have been using ground mermaid tail as a medicinal for almost a century.”

Reaching the top of the staircase, Nelson turned left, barreling straight into a large man dressed in a turban and long flowing robes. He bounced off him and staggered backward.

“You should slow down and watch the path in front of you, dirty cur,” the robed man hissed, looking down his aristocratic nose at Nelson.

Nelson stiffened, but instead of the quick retort Ellie expected, he lowered his head and muttered a quiet “Excuse me, sorry,” before he stepped around the turbaned man and hurried up the hall.

The robed man glared at Ellie. “Did your mother not teach you that staring is rude, young lady?” He scrutinized her up and down. “She obviously did not teach you how to dress.”

The hair at the back of Ellie’s neck stood on end and her stomach tightened.
Young lady?
She pulled her skullcap down tighter on her head, hunched her shoulders.
How does he know?

“Come on, El,” Nelson called from the other end of the long hall.

Swallowing her heart out of her throat, Ellie dragged her gaze away from the intimidating man and scurried after Nelson.

Nelson stood outside the third door on the right, face ashen. “Let’s get my mermaid tail and get the hell out of here.”

Ellie had never seen fear in Nelson’s eyes before. “I thought you wanted to stay for the auction? We trekked all the way out here and now you want to leave?” She glanced back toward the stairway, but the robed man was gone. “Who was that?”

Nelson pushed open the door. “Just Satan’s handmaiden.”

***

Daniel emerged from the card room. The door across the hallway clicked shut, drawing his attention. He stepped into the empty hall and headed for the stairway.

Captain Winters came up beside him and slapped a friendly hand onto his shoulder. “Now that we’re done working for the day, what say we go downstairs and see what this whole auction business is all about?”

“That sounds wonderful, Captain,” Daniel replied, warmth surging through him at his captain’s affable manner. He rarely smiled since he’d learned about his daughter’s disappearance.

Together, they descended the wide stairway on the way to the famous Taylor auction in the grand ballroom.

Chapter Ten

With square-rigged sails full of strong coastal wind,
The Siren’s Call
was one of the fastest ships in the Atlantic. Her dark hull cut through the water with the ease of a blade through butter.

A tingling sensation spread through Daniel’s limbs and his heartbeat accelerated. Next to the way he felt when he swam through the breakers in seal form, nothing made him happier than when the deck of a ship rolled beneath his feet.

It felt good to have Gibraltar at their backs, to be doing something positive. Daniel had had his fill of pirates.

While at the auction, the captain had gotten word that the ship his daughter reportedly sailed on was in Gibraltar. There was even a rumor that some of
The Surf Runner
’s crew had been seen at the auction house. They’d abandoned everything to follow the fresh lead. The captain decided their meeting with Jashir could wait and the time had come to find his missing daughter.

“Sails to the stern, Captain!”

The call from the crow’s nest jerked Daniel’s attention toward the topmast and the crewman pointing behind them.

Captain Winters lifted the spyglass, peered through it. “Lateen sails, no colors. Looks like a xebec.” Lowering the glass, his gaze swept to Daniel. “All hands at the ready.”

“All hands at the ready!” Daniel shouted across the deck of the brigantine. “Step lively, men!”

The Captain rested a hand on Daniel’s sleeve. “Take the helm, Daniel. I want you at the wheel if there’s to be a fight.”

Daniel nodded, looking to the man he’d grown to admire. “Aye, Captain.”

In his years with Winters Shipping, Daniel had done well for himself, rising in rank from cabin boy to first mate. For reasons he could never be sure of, the captain had kept his secret for ten years. That moonlit night had changed everything for Daniel, and he vowed to repay the captain for the kindness he’d shown.

Daniel took the wheel from the helmsman. “Go help Walters with the leeward yards, Jacobs.”

The toothless Jacobs bobbed his head. “Aye, sir.”

Glass in hand, Captain Winters joined him on the quarterdeck. “They’re shallow on the draft and coming at us with a bone in their teeth. We won’t outrun them.”

Daniel turned the wheel hard to starboard, steering
The Siren’s Call
toward her swift pursuer. “Then we’d best outgun her, Captain.”

The captain’s blue eyes sparkled with light. “That’s a plan if ever I heard one, lad.” He stepped toward the rail and shouted across the deck. “Mind the yards and keep those sheets tight, men! Hold close to the wind!”

The xebec closed in.

“She’s flying a Roger, Captain!” Another call from the crow’s nest.

Daniel cursed.
Corsairs.