The Merman and the Barbarian Pirate (7 page)

"Poseidon's teeth." Kemp seized his wrists and pushed him away so hard he tumbled backward. "I don't think you really want this."

Raef couldn't answer; desire quaked through him, though the rational shouts in the back of his mind grew louder. Stripping Kemp's breeches was more than friendship required.

Kemp eased his glower, then took Raef's hands and drew him up before leading him over to the bunk. He sat Raef down and settled close by. Their thighs almost brushed. "Is this what Lord Haverford makes you do for him? Is that how you've earned your crust?"

On gathering what he could of his fractured wits, Raef neither understood nor liked the melancholy in Kemp's tone. After all, if Lord Haverford allowed him to give pleasure and be cherished, that would be a glorious thing. He shook his head, and a silky lock drooped across his brow. "No, he doesn't make me. Nobody has ever made me do anything like that, in all my twenty-one years. Nobody has ever even asked." He puffed his hair from where it tickled his nose, and the final confession slipped out before he could stop it. "I wish someone would."

Kemp emitted a noise caught between a sigh and groan, and a roguish glimmer lit his eyes. That shoal of fish in Raef's belly took flight once more, manic, as if a predator were in their midst.

"Well, my callow colt, we'd better start at the beginning." Kemp leaned in, obliterating the gap between them, and pressed his lush lips to Raef's.

Raef's heartbeat seemed to stop, then it surged forward like rolling thunder. All he could feel was the gentle brush of Kemp's mouth against his, kindling a wondrous and flourishing heat. Kemp lingered there a moment, offering a kiss of snowflake-light caresses. Then Raef felt Kemp's tongue, hard and wet and tracing the seam of his lips.

Raef parted them, inviting Kemp inside. Kemp thrust forward, plundering toward Raef's depths, and pushed his hand up Raef's thigh toward his achingly-hard loins. He hoped Kemp knew exactly what to do about
that
, though for now, the kiss incited rapture enough. Coarse beard scraped Raef's smooth chin, grazing the skin, but he didn't care. He hugged Kemp tight, gratefully enveloped in Kemp’s embrace. He scrubbed his tongue against Kemp's, tasting spice, rum, and something uniquely, wonderfully
him
.

Oh, this surrender was willing, so willing. Kemp's enormous hard rod pressed up against him, bulging beneath those breeches. It frightened and thrilled him, and he bucked himself against it, buttocks clenching. Ah! He loved the idea of Kemp thrusting that sword of flesh into him, though he mustn't let matters get that far. He'd regret giving himself entirely to anyone save Haverford, he was sure, and this man was still a cold-blooded pirate. Though Kemp felt extremely hot-blooded right now.

When Kemp broke away, Raef couldn't help mewling with disappointment. "Don't stop. I need more kisses."

"I can feel you do, lad, and believe me, so do I, but—" Letting Raef go, Kemp rose and paced the cabin, raking his flyaway hair.

"But what?" begged Raef. His body ached for Kemp, though he reminded himself Kemp wasn't his love. Kemp was the pirate he must trick and rob in order to please and be with the man he worshipped.

"I don't know." Kemp pumped a fist in frustration. "It shouldn't matter, if we just wish to take our mutual pleasures. But I find I must know the truth. Where do you come from, Raef? What nature of man are you?"

Raef found he couldn't lie. "I-I'm a jewel thief."

Kemp stopped pacing and narrowed his eyes to slits, and Raef squirmed. "I've met a good few sneaks in my time, lad," said Kemp, "and none of them were anything like you. If you don't work for Haverford, then who are your people? From where do you hail?"

"My folks are from some rocky islands beyond the tip of Cornwall." That wasn't far from the truth, either. "But I left home. I wandered."

"I see." Kemp strode back and forth again, as if he were a trapped beast. "And pray, how many jewels have you ever thieved, if you can't afford clothes? Indeed, if you know so little about how to wear them?"

"It's warmer to the south." Raef strove to calm his skittering pulse, to take control of his thoughts and the situation. "I won't answer your questions unless you answer mine. What kind of pirate are you? I, um, haven't seen much treasure on this ship."

"Ah, but as your Lord Haverford knows, my reputation is legendary. I live for the joy of plunder and have swagged more than any other pirate who sails these isles. See?" Kemp smoothed his hand down his bare arm, over the labyrinthine interweaving of tattoos— the treasure chest, the sheaf of corn, as well as bejeweled trinkets, and many others. "I carve mementos of my finest prizes into my skin, though I also take great pleasure in… redistributing wealth. And I'm always looking for something new and exciting to snatch from our bloated aristocracy."

"What are you after at the moment?" asked Raef, his intrigue distracting him from his plan. Redistributing wealth? What did that mean? Mayhap Kemp sold on his plunder or gave it to lovers or pirate friends.

"Right now, I'm after a map that will lead me to a great stolen fortune," answered Kemp, stroking his chin. "I need to speak to a wench called Cecilia, who might know where it's hidden. That's what we'll next sling our hook for, near Lilhaven. Once I've finished my business there, you can go free."

Cecilia. Was she the lucky soul Kemp wanted to give the ring to? Kemp drew close again, squaring those broad shoulders, and Raef shrank back 'til he was pressed against the cabin wall at the back of the bunk. He wondered if this "wench" was a lover of Kemp's.

Please want me, not her!

He'd no time for this lunacy. The sun had dipped, the rays no longer reaching the porthole. Shadows swallowed the room's corners, and soon Kemp would need to light his candle. Raef must act. He had to get out of here, to be in the ocean as the sun set. Yet he wanted to be pinned down and ravished by this brute of a pirate, who admitted to a love of plunder.

"Now it's your turn again." Kemp licked kiss-swollen lips and Raef mimicked him, dabbing Kemp's flavor and cherishing it. "How many jewels, truly, have you snaffled?"

"None, as of yet, which is why …" Raef fixed on the band Kemp wore. "Which is why I wanted that ruby so badly. I know there's no chance of claiming it now, but will you please let me wear it for a while?"

Kemp narrowed his eyes, obviously toying with the idea. He shrugged. "I don't see why not. Wear it, admire it, though I'll be having it back, mind." He screwed the ring off and gave it to Raef, who slid it on. "I'll brew some coffee, then we must talk some more. After that, if you're still keen, you and I might resume our plea—"

With an effort that wrenched through him, Raef jumped up and shoved Kemp from his path. Seizing the advantage of surprise, he sprinted through the door and across the deck. Peffy and George looked up at his sudden appearance, and from behind him, Kemp cursed, thundering footsteps closing in fast. Raef hadn't a moment to waste. He made for the sea side of the ship and launched himself over the rail, smacking gracelessly into the ocean.

He sank, then surfaced. Only then, as he flailed with his human limbs to keep afloat, did he look to the west. A fuzzy orange orb glowed back at him, partially eclipsed by wispy cloud. He'd jumped too early. It would still be a good few minutes before he could shift.

Damn, damn, damn.

He had to get away from this damn ship, the looming hull of which veered dangerously close.

"Man overboard! Get the nets," hollered Kemp. Raef launched into a front crawl, though his arms felt heavy as lead, his legs ineffective compared to his tail. After a few strokes, he mistimed a breath, and a wave splashed in his face. He swallowed a mouthful of brine, choked and gasped. Before he could refill his lungs, the waters closed above him again, sucking him down. He flailed, pulling upward, but as soon as he broke into the world above, a wave smashed him under.

For the first time in his life, the sea became his enemy. He managed to struggle up again, paddling a moment and panting raggedly, before the next roller pummeled him. His chest burned, and still the sun lingered, for he felt no tingle of magic, just the cold. He prayed to the gods of the oceans.

Help me, save me, deliver me. Give me my tail and my gills back and let me breathe underwater.

The waters were swallowing him, suffocating him. His lungs were blistering and felt like they might explode. Raef thrashed weakly, but light faded as his life breath drained from him. Had it been worth it … for Lord Haverford … for the barbarian pirate's kiss? Or would he make it? His fingers and toes began to prickle. Was this it? Could this be the shift?

Strong arms wrapped around him, and an irrepressible force propelled him up. He burst through the surface, coughing and retching, and the next few moments passed in a haze. A tangle of netting and rope lifting him, the bite of the wind, the sway of the ship, then more grabbing hands. He found himself lying on his side, on the deck boards he'd scrubbed smooth, spewing out water and kicking his human legs.

"That's it, lad," said Kemp, rubbing between Raef's shoulder blades. "You're all right."

He wasn't all right. Through the blur of his wet lashes, Raef caught a glimpse of the darkening sky, a smudgy moon nudging upward between the clouds. Kemp had grabbed him at sunset and hauled him from the water before the shift could take hold. Now he was stuck in human form for at least another night without a notion what he should do. Or what Kemp and his crew would do to him, after acting so rashly.

"The boy's mad," blurted Peffy, kneeling beside him. "No man could reach safety from here."

"You're right," said Kemp gruffly. "I prayed otherwise, but he's not fit to govern himself. We're going to have to lock him up again, and when we reach port, we must find him a doctor."

"An asylum would be best," said George, scratching the scar that slashed his face. "This one's bound for Bedlam."

Still gathering his breath, Raef hadn't the wherewithal to argue against them. He wondered what variety of grim place this Bedlam was. If he couldn't shift back to his true form soon, his strength would wane more and more. Kemp placed a blanket over him, then drew him into a sitting position, so he sagged against Kemp's chest. Kemp dried him with a soft rubbing motion, warming and kind… but how could it be? Though he melted beneath Kemp's touch, Kemp wanted to chain him up.

Without releasing Raef from the tight embrace, Kemp lifted Raef's trembling hand and removed the ring. "Y-you villain," stammered Raef.

"Hush now." Kemp patted Raef. He dragged him to his feet and across the deck, supporting much of his weight. Raef’s knees had the structural integrity of soggy seaweed. A glance in George and Peffy's direction revealed expressions filled with a doleful sympathy, which Raef silently cursed, though they bewildered him, too.

Kemp hoisted him onto one shoulder, and the world turned skewwhiff. As he carried him down one ladder, then another, into the fetid gut of the ship, Raef's frustration swelled a hundred fold. He’d still not the power to fight back. Kemp dumped him in his prison from the previous night, stripped his wet rags, wrapped him in a dry sack, and then clapped him back in the chains.

When Kemp left, he felt bereft and curled into as tight a ball as his restraints allowed. He should hate, hate, hate this pirate, more than ever now. Yet his desire even to get the jewel back and wreak vengeance seemed diminished by his growing fear for himself. Might he die down here? Or would Kemp strand him ashore to wither away in some horrible jail?

He'd been a fool yet again, botching his plan… but oh gods, that kiss. These kluggites dizzied him, especially Kemp, who was far from cloddish and ugly. The brush of his lips and tongue and the crush of his hard body had rocked Raef's little world. Then Kemp had pushed him away and now cast him down here again. So cruel.

But it was no good. Raef battled a murmur in his soul that suggested he was as mad as this ship's crew thought him.
Why doesn't the barbarian pirate want me?

Five

Raef struggled to get any sleep. He felt much worse than before he'd taken his swim to nowhere. Little pains wracked his body, and however much he wriggled on his bare arse, he couldn't get comfortable. Moisture dripped from his hair and rolled down his back under the loosely draped sacking. After he finally drifted off, his dreams transformed the trickling motion into the scraping of shark's teeth, a slithering sea slug, and then the barbed talons of a witch of the deeps. He feared she'd gouge his eyes and shred the skin from his face.

When he snatched himself awake, stricken with horror, he couldn't extract his mind from this restless fog. He shivered, though he didn't seem to be cold anymore, and his head burned as if a furnace was lit within it. He'd never been forced to stay this long in human form before. Neither had he ever felt so ill.

After what could have been hours or minutes—he was too lost to know—somebody opened the cell door. He didn't seem to be able to lift his head, but he could tell it was Kemp. He could smell him. Raef's thoughts were so befuddled he didn't recall that word, the long one beginning with “b”, which Haverford had used to describe Kemp. Still, he knew he should be angry with him. It was Kemp's fault he was in this mess, yet his presence offered a grain of comfort, and Raef snatched at it, yearning for him to draw closer.