Blacksouls (Blackhearts #2)

Teach had no doubt that was the pirate Pelham was after. How she managed to avoid capture on such a small island was admirable. Perhaps she only ventured out into the streets after dark.

The man on the ground groaned and Teach approached with care, curious to know what he’d tried to steal. His pale hair practically glowed in the dim light of the moon and looked somehow familiar.

Reaching down, Teach rolled the man over, and muttered a curse.

“I should have let them have at you,” Teach growled at Peter.

“Sod off.”

“What did you do? Try to sell some cargo that didn’t belong to you? Is that why you tried to take those papers from the Deliverance?”

Peter’s only response was to spit in Teach’s face, desperate fury gleaming in his pale eyes.

“Wrong answer.” Drawing back, Teach drove his fist into Peter’s face. Peter’s eyes rolled back and he lay there, immobile. Shaking his hand, Teach straightened, wishing he had been the one to see Peter before the two men had gotten to him first. There was no sport beating up on a man who was half dead already. Not that Peter didn’t deserve it.

If Peter hadn’t accused them all of mutiny, none of them would be in this mess. Teach would be reunited with Anne and the two of them could start their new life together.

Staring down at the unconscious figure, Teach debated what he should do with Peter. They weren’t very far from the docks. A part of Teach truly wanted to take Peter and drop him into the harbor.

The world would be a better place for it.

As Teach stood there, debating his next move, a stray dog meandered down the alley, stopping and sniffing at different spots along the way. It came up and sniffed Teach’s hand. Teach scratched the dog behind its scruffy ear and motioned toward Peter. “Have at him,” he said, half in jest.

The dog looked up at Teach with soulful eyes, before turning to Peter. Approaching the lifeless form, the dog sniffed once, before lifting its leg.

Teach’s dark mood lifted as he laughed. Aside from having Peter locked up, Teach didn’t think he could have planned a more fitting form of revenge for the coward.

Turning, Teach left Peter splayed in the street and continued toward The Laughing Fox. Bypassing the front door, Teach headed toward the back courtyard. Once inside the enclosed area, he stopped beside a flowering frangipani bush, its soft, fruity scent heightened at this time of night. In a few hours, the sun would rise, drawing one day closer to when he would have to leave Anne behind.

Fingering the butter soft petals in his hands, he broke off one of the largest white blooms. Inhaling, he took a step forward only to freeze, unprepared for the pistol pressed against his back.

“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot first. Where the devil have you been?”

Teach turned, a grin splitting his face. This was the second time a woman had surprised him. “Pining for you. Now put that thing away before you shoot someone.”

“I only shoot people who are wicked.”

“There have been times,” Teach began, placing the flower behind her ear, “when I have been known to be a bit wicked.”

Anne gave a short laugh. “After my day, don’t tempt me.”

“But I enjoy it ever so much.” Putting the encounter with Peter firmly behind him, Teach ran his fingers down her arm, capturing the gun in her hand and placing the weapon in the back of his waistband. He stepped closer, close enough that their breath mingled, and slipped his arms around her, the slim space between their bodies as charged as the air on a stormy night. “What’s wrong?”

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to come sooner, but the governor insists on keeping a tight rein and a tighter schedule.” Every inch of his skin tingled with Anne’s nearness, and he ached to get closer.

“Alastair said as much. He didn’t think you would come.” Her full bottom lip grazed his as she said the words. “But I knew you would.”

His mouth was on hers then. Her hands were on his chest, tugging at the laces of his shirt, as if she wanted nothing else to stand between them. With his forearm across the small of her back, he anchored their bodies together. One step, two. He guided her backward to the side of the barn. No one had ever made him feel this aware. This alive.

The pressure of Anne’s lips increased, and he felt like they were the only two people in the world.

A not so subtle cough reminded Teach that that was not the case. Damnation. Teach had hoped to visit with Anne uninterrupted. He seemed to have had an easier time catching Anne alone in the Drummond household.

“What the devil are you doing here?” Alastair demanded, approaching them in the dark. Teach could make out a scowl on his face. “And where have you been?”

“I’m here to see Anne,” Teach replied, standing with his arm around her waist. It felt so good to have her at his side. “And I spent last night on the ship. With departure so close, Webb wants to make sure things go according to his plan.”

“We went to the docks today,” Anne said. “We didn’t see you.”

Teach’s chest tightened at the thought of Anne worrying. “In the afternoon Webb took me to the fort. That must have been when you came to the docks.”

“What does he want you to do?” Anne asked.

“I’m to go after someone.”

Anne’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“George Easton.”

“The pirate?” Alastair asked.

Teach cringed, feeling Anne stiffen at his side. He truly hadn’t intended to tell Anne much about his plans. The less she knew, the better. Webb had been only too happy to recount stories about the pirate. According to Webb, Easton was savage and desperate, a man of grotesque brutality. He enjoyed torturing his victims. One time, he bound a man’s hands together and then set fire to the rope, removing the flesh down to the bones.

Easton was also cunning. Three British warships once blockaded Easton where he anchored, making escape nearly impossible. Under the cover of darkness, the pirate and his men sailed slowly out of the bay, with another ship in tow. As they made their way to the entrance of the harbor, Easton set the second ship on fire and sent it toward the warships. The British scrambled to get out of the way, allowing the pirates to slip past them.

“Does Webb know you’re here?” Alastair asked.

“No.”

“How can you be so sure? That’s an awful risk you’re taking.”

“I was followed, but those men are enjoying multiple pints at the moment and won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

“I think you underestimate Webb.”

Teach’s cheeks burned. “And I think you don’t give me enough credit. For the past twenty-four hours, I’ve done everything the man has asked me. Now it’s my turn to take something back.”

“And what, precisely, were you planning to take back? She’s not going back with you to the ship.”

“Alastair, please,” Anne said. “Give us a moment.”

The Irishman shook his head. “I’m sorry, Anne, but the boy is putting too much at risk by being here. After what happened today the governor is sure to be displeased.”

“Why? What happened?”

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