Anne was tired of living in fear, tired of seeing people hurt. This was her chance to strike back, to make them fear her.
Anne’s vision clouded and her arms trembled as she pointed the pistol, squeezing the trigger. Boom! Unprepared for the kickback, Anne slammed into the brick wall behind her, her ears ringing, while the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air.
“She shot me! She shot me!” the man yelled out, writhing on the ground and clutching his foot with both hands while blood spurted out between his fingers.
Alastair appeared just as surprised as their assailants, his mouth hanging open, but he had no time to respond. After a moment of shocked silence, the two remaining men attacked. With a swift punch to the gut, Alastair managed to knock one of them down.
The other man grabbed Anne’s wrist in a bruising grip. She kicked out, connecting with his knee. He fell to the ground, raining foul curses down on her head.
“The governor will hear about his,” he cried.
“If he’s going to tell the governor, he might as well have something of interest to report.” Alastair hit the man square in the jaw. Anne stepped back as he fell at her feet. Two of them were now out cold, the other one still writhing in pain on the ground.
Taking Anne’s hand in his, Alastair turned the corner, the man’s cries gradually fading in the distance. Anne knew she should feel some kind of remorse for shooting him, but all she could see was the blood in the sand and the tracks in the dirt, evidence of someone else’s pain and suffering.
“Coyle said you didn’t want to carry a loaded weapon,” Alastair said. She could detect no censure in his voice.
“That was before I met the governor’s wife.”
Alastair shot Anne a surprised look. Noting the set of her jaw, he chuckled softly. “Did you mean to wound him? Or did you just want to scare them?”
“I wanted to stop them from hurting anyone else.” If only she’d had better aim and more weapons, she would have gladly shot all three men. Could she ever bring herself to kill someone? A week ago, she would have said no. But now . . . Anne would never forget the scene at the docks with the slaves being led away.
“You’re learning quickly. There are times it’s better to strike the first blow. It took me years to realize that showing mercy to your enemy would only get you wounded.”
As sad as it was for Anne to admit, that is precisely what Mrs. Webb was. What slavers were. Her adversaries. Anne could not help feeling as if she was beginning to shed her civility. Despite the fact that Bristol was also a port town, Nassau seemed so much more raw and unruly.
Alastair’s smile slowly faded at Anne’s prolonged silence. “As much as I hate to say it, I’m afraid you might not be able to see Teach before he leaves.”
“He’ll come to see me.” Of that she had no doubt.
“I wish I had your confidence, but it’s most likely for the best if he doesn’t come. You don’t want Webb to find out about the two of you.”
“You don’t know Teach like I do. He will find a way to say good-bye.”
“I might not know Teach, but I do know the governor. This is all new to you, but I’ve lived here too long to be shocked by much.”
Anne met his eyes, her gaze steady. “If you don’t see the bad in some, you can’t recognize the good in others.”
Patting her hand, Alastair nodded as The Laughing Fox came into view. “For your sake, I hope you’ve seen enough of the bad.”
So did Anne. But until she knew for sure what the governor wanted from Teach, she was afraid of how much worse things could become.
CHAPTER 17
Teach
The alleys of Nassau weren’t as crowded late at night. Most of the inhabitants were filling one of the busy inns or taverns lining the wharf. The air was warm and inviting, the black sky overhead littered with sparkling stars.
Teach headed to the Fox. He couldn’t wait to see Anne again, but first, he’d had to ditch the two men Webb had sent after him. Teach knew he’d been followed. The governor hadn’t come right out and said he couldn’t leave the Triumph at night, but he certainly hadn’t made it easy for him. Teach had been tempted to turn to confront the men, but had decided to have some fun with them instead. After all, it wasn’t their fault the governor had appointed them as nursemaids.
It hadn’t been easy to lose them. Teach had stopped in at a tavern, knowing Anne was practically within reach, but he’d had to wait until the two sailors were good and drunk. Then he’d slipped out through the kitchen and made his way to the back of the Fox. He was in a better mood than he had been the day before. The crew of the Deliverance had spent the afternoon in one of the courtyards of the fort. They’d been under heavy surveillance, but at least they’d seen the sun and breathed in clean air. He still felt guilty that he was free to move about and his men were forced to sleep in their hot, dark cells, but soon they would be reunited.
Turning down an alleyway, Teach stopped when he saw two figures pummeling a form on the ground, cringing at the sound of fists meeting flesh. He worried for the man. The devil knew when or even if the duo would stop. As much as Teach wanted to see Anne, he couldn’t have someone’s death on his conscience.
The pair were too busy to notice Teach as he snuck up on them.
“This hardly seems like a fair fight,” Teach said with a voice that undercut the noise of the struggle.
The duo paused, their chests heaving, evidence of the pounding they were giving their victim. They turned on Teach, their fists still clenched.
A female voice behind Teach caught him off guard, as well as the sharp point of a knife pressed into his back. “Not that it’s any of your business, but this man is getting exactly what he deserves.” She spoke with a Spanish accent.
“Is it worth taking his life?” Teach asked.
“They’re not taking his life. They’re simply making him rethink it. Next time, I believe he’ll reconsider trying to steal from me. And you’d do well not to interfere in something that doesn’t involve you, caballero.” She removed the knife from Teach’s back.
Curious, Teach turned slowly, his hands still held aloft. The woman was dressed in a white shirt, waistcoat, and breeches. She wore her hair pulled back in multiple braids and secured with a strip of leather. The brim of her hat hid part of her face in the darkness, but her chin was visible in the moonlight and at the moment, it was set.
With a sharp movement, the woman motioned to the men to follow her. They did, without hesitation. “He’s all yours,” she said over her shoulder. “But if he crosses me again . . .” Her voice trailed off and they turned the corner, disappearing from sight.