The Devil's Tide (36 page)

Ned flashed an irritated glance back at her. "Stay out of this. It's none of your concern."

She frowned. "But I'm the subject of the conversation."

"That's besides the point," Ned insisted. He looked at Hemett. "We should bring her before Teach."

"Oh, you don't need to do that, Ned," Calloway protested, pushing off of him.

"I told you to stay out of it."

"I'm finding it difficult," she replied.

Ned turned on her. "Teach will want details. He's powerful furious with Captain Vane. You've been in his hideout. You know things."

She shook her head. "I don't remember much."

Ned wagged a finger. "One minute you're promising to lead us through caves, the next you don't remember nothing. I don't think you've worked out your story, missy. But don't worry. Edward Teach is good at sorting through fibs."

Before she could offer further protest, the two men seized her by each arm and ushered her to the boat. Ned lifted her off her feet and deposited her in the boat. Hemett pushed them off and crawled in, rolling onto his back. He spent half a minute trying to right himself, his compact body and stumpy arms refusing to negotiate as he wobbled to and fro like an upended turtle. Calloway sat at the front of the boat, which was barely large enough for the three of them, as they rowed toward the distant ship.

Most of the stars in the east had faded by the time they reached the huge vessel. The three masts ran dizzyingly high. The bow towered above the little boat, its long bowsprit ending in a spritsail topmast with a round base. A huge bald man with a red beard was perched on the base, legs dangling over. He glared down at Calloway as the little boat sailed under.

Teach's parting words on their prior meeting were fresh in her mind: "Should we meet again, I will not recall your face." She prayed that was true, but her botched attempt on his life had not been so long ago.

They pulled up to the starboard side. Men were crowded at the rail, watching silently, silhouetted against the faint sky. A knotted rope was tossed down. Ned urged Calloway to go first. She latched onto the rope and closed her eyes as they lifted her up. Two hulking men helped her over the rail onto the cutdown forecastle. One of them accidentally grasped her breast along the way and then looked at her in shock. His lips curved into a leer.

The crew gathered in a dense perimeter. Their eyes crept along her body, and they whispered to one another.

A shadow pulled at her peripheral vision. Edward Teach was waiting at the quarterdeck rail, staring down at her impassively. From her low angle, his long black coat seemed to merge with the deck, as though he was an extension of his ship. His beard twitched slightly, but she didn't think he recognized her. "What's this?" he called down.

"Escaped Vane, she did," said Hemett as he climbed over the rail.

Teach cocked his head. "She?"

"That's right," said Ned, following after Hemett.

Teach descended the stairs as Ned and Hemett rushed to join him at the bottom. "We found a hole, captain," Hemett said excitedly.

Teach looked from Hemett to Calloway and back again. "I don't want to know."

"No, in the mountain," Ned said, looking like he was on the verge of explosive laughter.

"Yeah, in the mountain, captain," Hemett nodded fervently. "The girl came through it, all the way from Vane's hideout."

Teach's eyes widened. "Quartermaster!"

The quartermaster emerged from the crowd.

"This be the stroke of luck I needed," Teach told him. "Take one-hundred and fifty men into the passage. Kill everyone you find, save for Charles Vane or that whore what crossed me, should you find either of them. I want them alive.
Adventure
is already on her way to block the gap. We'll join her shortly, while you raid the bowels of Pirate Town. We'll take
Valiant
swiftly. And after we've slaughtered them all, we'll take back what that bitch owed us, and any other plunder Vane claimed. Yes?!"

The crew unleashed a deafening howl.

He's brought another ship,
Calloway realized. No one was going to escape Pirate Town alive. She thought of Dillahunt in his cell. They would kill him too, and there was nothing she could do about it. And she didn't even want to think about what would happen to Kate.

As the quartermaster went about gathering men, Teach's eyes fixed on Calloway. She realized he was frowning beneath that bushy beard. She clenched her fists at her side and struggled not to tremble as he drew within a foot of her.

This is the last face my mother saw.
Her mother was dead, and the man Calloway loved was next, both at the hands of this man. Edward Teach was going to take everything from her.

His steely blue eyes narrowed. "My eyes be puzzled by familiarity. Have we met?"

"Would you remember if we had?" she sneered without thinking.

It slowly dawned on him. "The lass on the beach with a mind to end the mighty Blackbeard!"

"Your memory is better than you think," she said.

"Fate be very kind to me or very cruel to you."

"So you'll kill me now?"

He nodded gravely. "You will not leave this ship alive."

Her head fell. In a way, it was a relief. If she was going to die, she could say everything she wanted to say. She raised her head, renewed. If these would be her final moments, she wouldn't waste them. "Fitting that the dog who murdered my mother should do the same for me. And make no mistake, Edward Teach, you are naught but a dog, paddling through the sea, who has deluded himself into thinking he's a man."

If he was offended, he hid it well. Instead, a curious look crossed his face. "Who was your mother, girl?"

"Her name was Elise," she said. "She was beautiful, and you took her from me."

"A strumpet at The Strapped Bodice, yes?"

"Yes," she answered.

"I remember her," he said, arching his head and looking to the heavens.

"As well you should."

His rigid gaze fell on her again. "I have murdered many men," he said. "Most of their faces be lost, adrift in a sea of hundreds, but surely I would remember a woman's."

She scoffed, folding her arms. It occurred to her how ridiculous she must look, sassing the mighty Blackbeard. "You expect me to believe you've never killed a woman?"

"Women have perished because of me," he admitted, "but never have these hands done the deed."

Her smirk faded instantly. "You're a liar. You just told me you're going to kill me. Did you forget already?"

He held up a finger, correcting her. "I said you won't leave this ship alive. I did not say I would kill you. I'll leave that to my men."

She jabbed a finger in his chest. "You killed my mother! I saw her body."

He glanced at her finger, as if struck by a fly. "What would a lie gain me? A man lies in order to shroud his guilt. I feel no guilt, not for murder and certainly not for a death I did not cause."

"You were her last visitor!" Calloway insisted, balling her hand into a fist and beating it against his chest.

His hand nearly dwarfed hers as he closed his fingers over her fist. "I have yet to murder a woman," he said, voice deepening to a low, guttural growl. "But I promise you, the day I do, I will not open her wrists for her. That be too slow a death."

Calloway wrenched free of his grip and took a step back, shaking her head at him in disbelief. "Lies, lies, and more lies!" she cried.

He offered a shrewd smile. "Don't pretend you didn't follow the blood to your mother's wrists, little girl. When I arrived for my pleasure, I came upon a corpse. It seems she did not wish to suffer my company. Not even for an hour."

Calloway blinked, and her vision glazed over. She clenched her teeth and looked the other way.
Don't cry, not now.
That would only confirm what she had always known but had fought for so long to avoid, suppressing all her mother's sad smiles and long silences.
He's still responsible,
she tried to tell herself, but she knew that wasn't true either. It would have happened no matter what. There was no stopping it.

Calloway's knees crashed to the deck. The pain was distant, as though the lower parts of her body had stretched far away. Her head fell, and she sobbed uncontrollably in her hands. A shadow stepped before her. "Tell me your name, girl," Edward Teach said.

"What does it matter?" she sobbed.

"It matters."

She pulled her hands from her face and stared at the tears in her palms. "Jacqueline Calloway," she muttered.

"I have a parting question for you, Jacqueline Calloway."

"Ask what you will."

"I will not ask twice."

"Ask your question!" she yelled at the deck, refusing to look at him.

He kneeled before her and placed a finger under her chin, lifting her head. His steely blue eyes penetrated her blurred vision, like twin beacons in a black fog. He was smiling beneath his bushy beard. "Do you not wish to live?"

She was jolted into consciousness by a tremor that rattled the long table. An empty plate and bowl jittered along the surface, sliding a few inches. The walls rumbled, and thin trails of dirt fell from the jagged ceiling, collecting in hourglass piles on the table and floor. Just as the rumbling started to die down, a tremendous
boom
resounded through the cavern, followed by another protracted tremor.

Kate stood, unsure what she should do. The kitchen was empty at this hour. She had gorged herself on bland meat and mysterious stew and then fell asleep with her head on the table, arms pillowed beneath her. The food was tasteless, which had allowed her to stuff herself before she realized she was full, making up for the scant rations she had been given during her incarceration on
Crusader
.

She knew she had slept a long time. It was easy to sleep with a full stomach. She was thankful she didn't dream of the glowing-eyed drowned woman again. Or maybe she had and just didn't remember.

She wasn't sure what time it was now. Her body told her it was early morning, but she had no way of knowing in here. A bracing chill sifted in through the exit, and goose bumps riddled her bare shoulders.

The room rumbled again, and she considered running for the exit. The passage out was a short walk, but she didn't want to get caught in a collapsing tunnel. Then again, she didn't want to spend the rest of her life in a smelly kitchen, with food rotting around her. She started for the exit.

She was halfway across when Charles Vane stepped into the room, blocking the exit. His comely face was racked with distress, and his forest green coat was covered in dirt, but he had managed not to lose his arrogant smirk. He was sweating so heavily that his auburn curls were nearly black. His shirt was open, and there was a long red slash running down the center of his chest, between his pecs. He held a cutlass in one hand and a smoking pistol in another. He stood there catching his breath.

"You look awful," was all Kate could think to say.

He spat blood and grinned. "Nonsense! Your loins are steeping at the disheveled sight of me." He paused to regain his breath. "Don't pretend otherwise."

She rolled her eyes. "What's happened?"

"Blackbeard's men have infiltrated my fortress." The edges of his jaw stiffened sharply. "I should have killed that cunt when she first arrived."

"It's never too late," Kate offered buoyantly.

He waved his pistol dismissively. "Oh, she's quite dead, mind you. I just wish I'd done it sooner."

"She's dead?!"

Vane nodded nonchalantly. "I lobbed her off a cliff. A quick death, but she had time enough to realize she was going to die. That's important. I ordered my men to string her up to the canyon wall. Last minute decision, that. Rather inspired, I think. The whore's corpse will be the first thing Teach sees when he sails in."

Kate bit her lip, but she was unable to prevent a bout of girlish laughter from gushing out of her. Annabelle's death wouldn't bring Nathan back, but at least some sort of justice had been served. Her only regret was that she hadn't been able to do it herself.

Vane scowled at her. "What are you so fucking giddy about? Did you not hear me? Blackbeard's men have come to kill us all. Those blasts you've been hearing are my men rolling barrels of gunpowder down the passages and blowing them up. My idea. Unfortunately, it's not enough to keep them out. There are too many."

She gestured at his chest wound. "What happened there?"

He glanced downward. "This? I had a run in with Red Devil not a half an hour ago. Believe me, he looks far worse."

"Did you kill him?"

"Depends on whether or not he can survive a sword through the brain."

Another blast sounded somewhere behind Vane, causing him to blink rapidly, but he tried to preserve his cool demeanor. "We have to leave. My scouts tell me there's only one ship near the entrance to the channel. It appears to be
Adventure
. My sloop,
Valiant
, will engage very shortly, and when she does, I will seize the opportunity to escape in
Ranger
. But we have to leave now.
Queen Anne's Revenge
is never far behind
Adventure
."

Kate cleared her throat. "So you'll sacrifice everyone on your sloop just so you can get away?"

He almost shrugged, but stopped himself. "Ah, yes, women and their gentle hearts. Does that sort of thing concern you?"

"Not really, but it does interest me. By the way, if you're in such a hurry to leave, why are you here?"

He stabbed a bench with the tip of his sword and leveraged his weight against the hilt. "I came for you, obviously."

She grimaced. "No doubt you'll keep me in your cabin?"

"Of course," he said, grinning suggestively. "You'll be safe there."

"I can't go with you."

"That's strange," he said, scratching his head with the barrel of his gun. "You seem to be under the impression you have a choice in the matter."

"I'm not going. I don't want to argue about it."

He tossed his gun on the table, let go of his sword, and moved toward her. "You'd rather linger here to be raped and murdered than leave with me?"