Till Dawn Tames the Night (19 page)

Aurora watched from the quarterdeck while the men of the
Seabravery
readied their ship for a confrontation. There was tension in the air as men scrambled down the ropes and up the companionways, but Aurora had the distinct feeling that her ship's able seamen had seen confrontation before. In fact, some seemed to almost relish what was to come.
Such as Vashon.

She watched him on the quarterdeck. Every now and again he would shout an order, switching elegantly from French to Spanish or to whatever language the particular seaman whose attention he had could understand. But when the
Seabravery
was prepared to his satisfaction, Vashon seemed almost pleased to see the dread ship approaching. His eyes were alight with anticipation, and his step seemed quicker and full of purpose. When he caught her staring at him, he actually smiled, but it wasn't a cheerful, encouraging smile. It was a covetous, disturbing one, as if she
were
the Star herself, and he knew no one else could have her.

"Still hoping she'll rescue you?" Vashon walked by and shot a glance at the
Bleeding Heart,
which was now only a few hundred yards away.

Aurora surveyed the oncoming ship one more time. It actually wasn't black, but there was so much pitch slopped on its bow that the ship appeared black. When she looked further, she noted that the sails were tattered around their edges and they were a dirty shade of gray, in stark contrast to the
Seabravery's
crisp, bleached canvas sails. But the true sign that the
Bleeding Heart
was not destined to be her salvation was the ship's flag, which its crew was just now hoisting up the mast. The flag consisted of a smiling skull, and beneath it bony hands held out a bloody heart. Shocked by the gruesome image, Aurora couldn't stop her sharp intake of breath.

"I see you're having a change of heart." A smile twisted Vashon's lips.

She suddenly longed for even the security of his wretched cabin. "I take it the approaching vessel is a pirate ship," she blurted out.

"Your powers of observation are phenomenal, Miss Dayne."

Angered by his sarcasm, she added, "And it's no wonder that ship is coming this way. You know what they say, 'Birds of a feather . . .'
" Abruptly
she turned away and focused on the
Bleeding Heart.
She was devastated to realize there would be no escape there, but then, suddenly, an awful thought occurred to her. She turned back to Vashon and put her hand on his steely arm. "You— you aren't perchance thinking to hand Flossie and me over to them?
Perhaps to persuade them not to attack?"

He looked down at her delicate hand on his arm. He covered it with his own large one, and said, "You sound almost hopeful,
Aurore
.
Should I?"

She gasped. "You cannot . . . they're pirates!"

"And what am I?"

"A pirate."
Her eyes darkened and her gaze locked with his. He laughed.

The situation was hopeless. She was caught between the spider and the web. "How do you know these men?" she asked in a strained voice.

"Ah, let's just say they're old acquaintances."

She should have bitten her sarcastic tongue, yet she couldn't stop herself from saying, "What, old chums from pirate school?"

His laughter only grew louder. "Now that you know who you're up against, who do you choose to go with?
Them or me?"

She looked away and reluctantly made her decision. "I suppose the
Seabravery
would be the lesser evil. At least she flies the Union Jack."

"Not always."

She abruptly looked at him,
then
followed his gaze toward the spanker. She blanched. In place of the flag that had previously flown there, a black banner was now unfurled, painted with the image of a dragon
regardant
. It was the exact dragon tattooed on Vashon's back.

She put her hand to her temple to think. Somehow she had to escape this terrible ship. But now she had to make sure she didn't land in hands worse than the ones she was already in. It was going to be a hellish task.

"What? No scathing comments?" he taunted. "No maligning of my character, no calling me traitor?"

"Why should I? You've now revealed your true colors." She tore her gaze from the spanker. "I suppose you only hide behind Britain's flag when you're running from the Royal Navy."

"Ah, there it is. So are you calling me a coward, Miss
Dayne
?"

She set her jaw and refused to look at him.

He only laughed. "You may not believe this, but the
Seabravery
is the best of my fleet—all of which make legitimate runs from London to New York, and all of which fly the Union Jack."

"From time to time.
Only when it suits you, I presume."

"Aye.
When it suits me, which is all the time."

"But not now," she said harshly.

"No, not now," he answered as he glanced at the banner, "because more run from my flag than from the Union Jack."

"The
Bleeding Heart
isn't running." She looked and saw that in a few minutes the two ships would meet.

"The
Bleeding Heart
doesn't look like much, but it matches the
Seabravery
in gun power. If she so chose, right now we could be blowing each other from the water."

"But they fear the dragon too much?"

He studied her. His gaze flickered down her petite figure, his eyes warming appreciatively where he found the drab linen running taut across her bosom. With an enigmatic expression on his face, he touched one red-gold curl that had freed itself from her hairpins and now graced her temple.

"Let's just say I've precious cargo on board," he finally said. "Cargo the
Bleeding Heart
would be loath to destroy." With that, he caged her in his arms. Standing behind her, he locked his hands on the railing on
either side of her bodice, and
whether she wanted to or not, together they waited for the
Bleeding Heart
to come about.

The evil-looking ship soon came alongside the
Seabravery.
The crew of each ship stood deathly quiet at the railing, facing each other like soldiers waiting for the command to attack. Aurora looked down at the weather deck. Captain Corbeil stood at the deckhouse nervously rubbing his crippled hand. Meanwhile the captain of the other ship turned his attention to Vashon.

"Vashon!" the pirate captain yelled across the water. "How good it is to see you,
mon
amiV

Vashon grinned. Aurora could feel his heartbeat at her back. It quickened.

"Azzedine,
salaudl
What
do you want? If you're looking for your keeper, I believe we left all the sharks in the reefs of Bermuda."

The captain of the
Bleeding Heart
laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. Eventually he called out, "Vashon, I was always a man to appreciate your humor! But I think Peterborough will not be amused at your description!"

"Tell Peterborough there's no blood for him to feed upon on this ship!"

"I told him you wouldn't cooperate!" The captain laughed and shook his head. He was a short man, swarthy and unkempt. There was an exotic air about him, with his flashing black eyes and smooth, coffee-colored skin, and Aurora surmised he might be Moroccan or Algerian. He was almost handsome, but even from her
distance,
she could see he possessed several rotten and missing teeth.

"And who is the pretty one, Vashon?" the pirate called out. He turned his stare on Aurora, and it was so abominably crude that she found herself pressing back into Vashon's chest.

"Ah, this is my little gem, Azzedine." Vashon put his arms around her and made a great display over relishing the scent of her hair. "And you'll never guess where I found her!" he shouted.
"At an almshouse in London!
One must never overlook the mundane, my friend. You never know where you'll find treasure."

Aurora flinched. She desperately wanted to break free of Vashon's hold, but for the moment she was trapped. If she fought to be away from Vashon, he just might grant her desire and give her to the
Bleeding Heart.
Instinctively she knew she was better off aboard the
Seabravery.
She remained still and endured the gentle assault.

"I want you to meet Aurora, Azzedine!" Vashon continued. "This is Miss Aurora Dayne, a prized passenger of the
Seabravery.
We should not like to lose her company too soon."

"I see that," Azzedine remarked, his eyes turning serious. "And if I had such a lovely companion, I think I would be sorry to see her go! But I'm supposed to take her, Vashon. And for that I request permission to board so that I may negotiate her price."

With these words Aurora pressed even further into Vashon's chest. He was supposed to take her? Was every pirate on the high seas out to kidnap her? Unconsciously she clutched at Vashon's arms. Vashon chuckled and pulled her to him. She was so close she could feel his chest rumble when he laughed. She still despised Vashon. He seemed to enjoy her panic considerably.

"Azzedine!" he called out happily, "By all means, come aboard! Break your fast with us! But I warn you, she's not going with you! I'll see you dead, Azzedine, as sorry as that would make me!"

Azzedine chuckled again. He waved to Vashon, then the crew of the
Seabravery
made ready for him to board.

"They still talk about you in the
Casbah
, Vashon. The women still miss you, the men still hate you." Finished with his meal, the pirate captain Azzedine laid down his fork and rubbed his belly. He looked almost self-satisfied. If he could kidnap her and escape on the
Bleeding Heart,
Aurora was sure he'd call it a perfect day.

As if Vashon didn't want this chamber pot of a man in his personal quarters, she, Vashon, and the Algerian ate instead in the roundhouse, where the passengers out of London had taken their meals. To Aurora those carefree days seemed like weeks ago.

The chef had made a huge, elaborate meal as if the ship were hosting royalty rather than a grimy, predatory corsair. But despite the delicious fare, Aurora found she had no appetite. All through the meal she felt the Algerian's gaze crawling on her. Though it was clear Vashon held Azzedine by a tight leash, it was all too obvious that Azzedine longed to achieve his mission. But since even he seemed to know he was no match for Vashon, the captain of the
Bleeding Heart,
by the inexplicable camaraderie of outlaws, could only accept Vashon's hospitality,
then
take his leave.

Vashon ripped the Algerian's gaze from Aurora with a harsh stare of his own, leaned back in his chair, and smiled. "Ah, the
Casbah
," he commented. "I must admit I still have fond memories. Is the Rue Ben Ali still as narrow and treacherous as I remember? You could hide a thousand thieves along that street and never find even one."

"Ah, yes," Azzedine added slyly, "and I forgot to mention that the
dey
still hates you too—even he could not find you after you stole into the palace and into the arms of his eldest daughter."

Vashon laughed. "And is there still a bounty on my head? It's no wonder I was forced into legitimate business. The
dey's
scimitar is sharp,
c'est
comprisV

"The bounty still holds, Vashon, and you know I'm not above collecting it myself."

"If you could," Vashon answered easily.

"Yes, if I could." Azzedine sighed. "But since I cannot, perhaps I will bring the
dey
to you instead. You know he still boils with rage whenever someone even mentions the name Vashon. It was quite clever of you when he offered one hundred pieces of gold for your head to offer five hundred pieces for his."

"I'm still insulted that he didn't think me worth more." Vashon made a great display of looking wounded and suddenly both men laughed.

But not Aurora.
She sat next to Vashon, pushing the fried plantain around on her plate. She found all the talk of the
Casbah
ironic. She had read once that Algiers was referred to as "the White City" because of the
Casbah's
blindingly brilliant stucco-on-brick houses that cascaded down the hillside to the city's teeming port. It had always struck her as odd that a place with a name as pure and magical as the White City was really the shelter for pirates, smugglers, spies, and other villains.

But if the
Casbah
was truly such a notorious place, the two men before her would certainly fit in. One pirate appeared as though he'd just as soon steal a leper's cane as shake a man's hand. But as wicked as Azzedine looked, Vashon looked more so. He gave off the aura of a man unafraid of confrontation. Long after the likes of Azzedine put their tails between their legs and fled, Vashon would keep going. Aurora suddenly realized that that was the most frightening thing about him: Vashon was not afraid to die. Men instinctively knew this and kept their distance. But what could force a man to value his bravado over his life? She came to only one answer: a man who had needed that bravado to survive.