Blacksouls Read online

  Anne reached for the large dagger at John’s waist. Startled, he raised his hands in defense, but she simply took ahold of her hair where it was pulled back in a braid and sliced through the thick strands. The curls bounced up, relaxed and free around her shoulders.

  John gasped. “What the devil are you doing?”

  Benjamin’s jaw dropped, his eyes wide as he looked at the length of hair in her hand.

  Dropping the hair into the hammock, she loosened the leather strip that had held it together and retied her shorter hair. “I can’t go ashore looking like this.”

  “You’re not going ashore,” John insisted.

  “We don’t have time to waste arguing. Either you take us or we’ll go ourselves.”

  John looked at Benjamin. “What do you think about this?”

  “I think a weak man has a long tongue.”

  Anne laughed out loud as John jerked back. “What does that bloody well mean?” he snarled.

  Benjamin shrugged. “It means we are wasting valuable time. Anne is right. We need to go now.” Anne handed the dagger back to John, hilt first. “You’re both mad,” John muttered, looking at the two of them.

  Finished arguing, Anne moved toward the door, but John’s voice stopped her. “Wait. You can’t go like that. I’ve got something to help you.” Walking to the armoire, he pulled out a floppy hat and placed it on Anne’s head. It was too large, and came down to her eyebrows, shielding a good portion of her face. “I don’t know how your boots will hold up. They’re not exactly made for this kind of thing.”

  Benjamin bent down to tug off his boot, but Anne stopped him. “What will you wear?”

  “Where I come from, people do not wear shoes.”

  She shook her head. “Your boots will be far too large for me. I’ll wear mine for as long as they’ll last.” Holding out her arms, she looked at them. “Well? How do I look?”

  “Like a mad woman,” John said without hesitation.

  “Like a mad boy,” Benjamin corrected.

  John muttered something beneath his breath and handed the dagger in its sheath back to Anne, but she held up her hands. “I prefer pistols,” she said.

  “You’ll need more than a single shot.”

  “Which is why I have two.”

  “What happens if you miss?”

  Anne raised her chin at him. “I won’t miss.”

  “Have you practiced with those? They’re only for close range.”

  “Then I’ll have to get close enough, won’t I?” she said, resisting the temptation to practice on him.

  “For someone so small, you’re awfully fierce.”

  Benjamin took the dagger from John and slung the sheath over one shoulder. “Even a mosquito can cope with a lion at times,” Benjamin said with quiet confidence. Anne could have kissed him.

  John whirled, pointing a finger in his face. “I’ve had just about enough of you and your smart comments.”

  Anne smirked at the innocent look on Benjamin’s face. John turned his attention back to her. “Just how do you propose you get back to the ship? If you truly shoot the man, and save Teach, there’s no guarantee you’ll make it back before everyone discovers you’re a girl, including Kitts.”

  Anne stopped at the door, gripping the handle. “If it is Kitts, then he’ll be dead.”

  John quirked a brow at her. “And if it isn’t?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far.” She’d once accused Teach of not seeing the broader picture, but she didn’t have time to go over the pros and cons of her decision. She simply needed to get to Teach.

  Grabbing the two water skins that Benjamin had filled, John followed behind, muttering under his breath as they took the stairs. Only a handful of men were on deck. They were clearly still exhausted from battling the storm. Nobody gave Anne a second look, her hat pulled far too low for them to make out her features. John and Benjamin untied the ropes and started to lower the longboat to the crystal clear waters below.

  “How will you know which way they’ve gone?” John asked.

  Anne gripped his arm, wishing she could smooth the furrows from between his brows. “There were thirty men who left with Teach. I’m fairly certain they’ve left a trail even I could track. Now, are we going to continue discussing this or can we get going?”

  “I wish I could go with you,” he said, his voice strained. Anne knew John was worried. Not only for her safety, but for Teach’s as well.

  “You’re needed with the ship. I’ll be careful, John. I promise.”

  John gave her a long hard look. Finally, he nodded. “All right, then. Let’s get to the longboat.

  • • •

  As Benjamin and Anne followed the clear path left by Teach and his men, the sun’s rays beat down on them in relentless waves. If not for the breeze, Anne was fairly certain they would have been devoured by mosquitos.

  The afternoon dragged on, the only real mark of the passage of time was the moving shadows across the ground. Anne was grateful for the hat John had given her, but she wished she hadn’t wrapped her wounds. The extra material caused sweat to run down her back in unending rivulets, and her head started to pound.

  Ever attentive, Benjamin was quick to catch her when she stumbled. She hadn’t fully recovered from her injuries and marching through the heat was exhausting. By the time they came to a large pool of water, Anne had already finished the skin she’d brought with her. She felt nauseous, her muscles cramping and fatigued.

  “You need to rest in the shade,” Benjamin said.

  Anne eyed the brown surface of the pool, littered with leaves from the surrounding trees, and wondered if it was safe to drink.

  Benjamin didn’t hesitate. He took the skin from her and filled it before handing it back. Then he filled his own. “It’s safe,” he said, taking a large drink. “The fresh water is on top. The saltwater is far below. There are no large animals to taint it.” It was obvious he’d benefited from pools like this before.

  Anne filled her skin three more times and downed it all. “Okay, let’s move on,” Anne said, eager to keep going.

  “You need to rest.”

  “I can rest later.”

  “You won’t help him if you collapse from the heat. We can’t be far behind. Even they must have taken a short break.” Benjamin sat and removed his boots.

  Torn between wanting to press on and recognizing the need for a rest, Anne stepped carefully to the limestone edge of the pool and looked into its shadowy depths. “Are you going in there?” she asked.

  Benjamin nodded, his forehead gleaming under the sun. “It will help us cool off. But you must be careful of your stitches.” He dove in, fully clothed, and surfaced a few feet away with a smile splitting his face. He made it seem so easy.

  Unlacing her boots and removing her stockings, Anne placed them at her side. Her back was still tight and bruised. Inching forward, she dipped a toe into the water. It was definitely cooler than the air around them. In England, she’d never learned how to swim, and she envied Benjamin’s confidence in the water.

  “Where did you learn to swim?’ she asked, sticking her legs into the pool. She relished the feel of it gently lapping against her warm skin and wished she could fully submerge in its cool depths. But if she did, her stitches would soften and pull out.

  “My father was a fisherman. I had to go and gather the nets for him.” He swam to her side, somehow managing to stay afloat by waving his arms and legs back and forth. “When we have time, I can teach you.”

  His smile and warmth were contagious. Anne didn’t think she’d met anyone as caring as Benjamin. “I’d like that.” Dipping her hat into the water, she leaned forward and poured it over head, feeling instantly refreshed, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. Drenching her hair again and again, she closed her eyes, grateful for this brief respite from the blazing sun. She hoped it wasn’t much farther to the next cay.

  Benjamin filled the skins, insisting Anne drink as much as possible. “I’ve watched
people die because of the sun,” he said. “Alastair wouldn’t forgive me if anything happened to you.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she assured him, but did as he asked. The small break had certainly helped and the pounding in her head had receded somewhat. It was time to continue their journey.

  Using her stockings to dry off her feet, Anne slid them on. As she picked up one of her boots, a tiny head popped out. With a small shriek, Anne dropped it, the hair on her arms standing on end. The lizard disappeared inside the dark cavity of leather.

  Benjamin reached over, but Anne grabbed his arm. “Wait! What are you doing?”

  “I’m removing it from your shoe.”

  “But you don’t know if it’s dangerous.”

  “It’s not. It’s seeking shelter.” Just as Benjamin said that a large white bird flew overhead, its shadow darkening the ground briefly beside them before disappearing amongst the trees.

  Wary, Anne watched as Benjamin calmly removed the lizard, holding it gently in his hand. She couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her back as it turned its head, its beady eyes staring at her. “What are you going to do with it?” she asked.

  “Set it free.” Lowering his hand, he placed the lizard in some sand. It scurried away, its tiny legs carrying it as fast as it could run.

  “But what happens if the bird comes back?” she asked, feeling rather silly. The lizard had startled her. Just to make sure there wasn’t another one hiding in her other boot, she picked it up and shook it out before sliding it on.

  “Then it will seek shelter elsewhere. If it escaped once, it can do it again.”

  Something in his voice caused Anne to pause. He wasn’t simply talking about the lizard. “How many times did you try?” she asked.

  Benjamin drew a deep breath. “Twice.” He gave her a wry smile. “The moon can be both a blessing and a curse. It can light a darkened path. But it can also betray you. The second time I learned and left when the moon was small. I hid in bug-filled caves and came to appreciate the lizards. They kept the bugs away.”

  Anne marveled at Benjamin’s ability to overcome any situation. “How terrifying that must have been.”

  “It was. But these were more terrifying,” he said, running his hands over the scars on his arms and motioning to his back. “I couldn’t stay and let them do this to me. They’d already killed my family.”

  Anne felt sick. She didn’t press and instead waited for Benjamin to talk. He picked up a stick and turned it in his hands.

  “You know, some slavers keep families together. But they don’t do it to be kind. No such thing as a good slaveholder. They do it to make escape more difficult.” He looked up at Anne, his eyes sad but hard. “They killed my father when he tried to stop the overseer from—” He broke the stick, his fingers trembling. “Hurting my sister.”

  Anne stiffened as she shared his hatred and his pain. A tear slid down her cheek, but she couldn’t move to wipe it off.

  “Marie died that night. She was only ten.”

  “That’s barbaric,” she whispered, unable to bring strength to her voice.

  “I ran the next night. Didn’t know where I was going, but I ran. I ran for my father. For all the ones I left behind . . .” He looked down at his hands and said softly, “I ran because Marie couldn’t. And I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. I will never go back to being a slave,” he said, meeting her eyes once more.

  “I won’t let that happen,” Anne resolved, thinking back to the fiery rage she’d felt when the hilt of her gun had burned in her hands as she’d pointed it at the slaver. The next time it would be loaded and she wouldn’t miss.

  Anne and Benjamin shared a look of understanding and determination. The thick scars marking their skin would always remind Anne of the cruelty and depravity of men. And women. But they would also symbolize survival. And strength. “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “The path leads this way. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Teach

  The ship anchored in the clear blue waters of the cay was the same one that had attacked the Deliverance. Teach was sure of it. His pulse pounded as he thought of all the men who’d lost their lives.

  His nails bit into his palms as he glared at the ship. Where the mast had once stood tall and proud on the deck, it was now split in half, with sharp spikes of wood reaching up to the sky.

  The rigging was taut, but with no canvas. The Deliverance had punched three holes in the side of the ship and they’d been hastily patched. This vessel had been built for speed and maneuverability, but without a working mast, it sat in the shallow waters like a duck bobbing in the waves.

  From his vantage point, Teach could see several sailors working on repairs. The rest of the men were scattered across the sandy beach, performing different duties.

  A fire burned in their midst, and one or two members of the crew roasted something over the open flames. The men were thin and their clothes hung from them in dirty tatters. It had been more than two weeks since the attack on the Deliverance. Shocked at their appearance, Teach wondered how Easton and his crew had deteriorated in such a short amount of time. Or had they already been in this condition and Teach had somehow overlooked it? During the fight, they’d seemed much more robust. Admittedly, Teach had been intent on securing the Deliverance’s escape, but could he have overlooked their state? It was obvious to him that Easton’s men had needed the cargo of the large merchant ship. And because they hadn’t secured it, they’d paid a steep price.

  “Which one do you suppose is Easton?” Kitts whispered.

  Teach shook his head. “We’ll have to watch them for a bit. We don’t want to rush into anything.”

  Kitts nodded. Motioning to the men behind them, Teach gestured for them to spread out. They crept like spiders stealthily through the vegetation, the white sand muffling their footsteps.

  For the next several minutes, they watched the pirates, noting their lack of energy. Strips of canvas were spread before them as they attempted to repair some sails. Others dragged buckets of water into their camp. They’d no doubt filled them from one of the freshwater pools that dotted the island. The pirates’ movements were slow and labored. It wouldn’t take much to overcome the group.

  The snap of a twig caught Teach’s attention and he and Kitts ducked under the awning of a large cork tree. Teach held his breath as a thin young man attempted to close his breeches as he returned to the camp. Just as he reached Teach’s side, Teach jumped out, stifling the young man’s shocked cry with the palm of his hand, and dragging him backward. Kitts reached for his feet, but the pirate kicked out, his foot connecting with Kitts’s jaw. At the same time, the young man sank his teeth into the soft flesh of Teach’s hand. Teach threw him to the ground. Kitts drew his pistol and pointed it at the young man’s head. He stilled instantly.

  Shouts sounded from the camp and Teach pulled out the pair of revolvers hanging across his chest, ready to fire. But nobody came charging through the brush. The shouts continued, but remained on the beach.

  The pirate in front of Kitts opened his mouth to cry out, but Kitts pistol-whipped him, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Ripping strips of material from the bottom of his own shirt, Kitts hastily secured the young man’s hands behind his back, and stuffed another tattered cloth into his mouth. “That should keep him quiet,” Kitts muttered, rubbing his jaw, which was already beginning to bruise.

  Peering through the trees, Teach watched as the men on the beach argued over the smoking skewers, charred pieces stuck to the ends. They were clearly suffering if they were prepared to come to blows over that amount of food.

  A tall thin figure with light brown hair limped toward the group, and despite his scruffy appearance, Teach knew they had their captain. It was obvious the pirates respected Easton and his command in the way they parted for him to walk through their midst. They quieted down instantly. Although his words didn’t quite carry all the way t
o where Teach and the others hid, there was no mistaking the confidence in his stance.

  “Now?” Kitts asked.

  “Now,” Teach said. With a loud cry, Teach led the way, storming onto the beach, his pistols drawn as he fired once into the air.

  The pirates scattered, a few of them scrambling for their cutlasses. The clang of steel hitting steel rang through the air, but Easton’s men were quickly subdued. Teach and his crew clearly had the advantage and surrounded the pirates, their weapons drawn.

  Considering how Webb had built up Easton’s reputation and ferocity, Teach had expected much more of a fight from a much larger opponent. Easton wasn’t as broad as Teach and he stood a few inches shorter. His clothing hung on his thin frame, but he stood straight, with an unmistakable air of authority.

  “George Easton, surrender now, and we’ll let you live,” Teach said, his second pistol pointing straight at Easton’s chest.

  The pirate smirked, his brown eyes wrinkling at the corners. “I must say, that’s very generous of you. But who the devil are you?”

  “The name’s Teach.”

  Easton tilted his head to the side, considering Teach. “What kind of a fool name is that?”

  “The only one you’ll get from me. Now tell your men to lower their weapons.”

  “And if I don’t?” Easton asked casually, glancing around. His nonchalant attitude was deceptive. Easton’s men watched him closely, clearly prepared to fight on if he gave the order.

  “We’ll show no quarter.” Although Webb wanted Easton returned alive, Teach would not allow any men on his crew to die at a pirate’s hand.

  “A man sure in his strength does not threaten.” Easton appeared to have a response for everything.

  “You and your men will return with us to Nassau. From there you’ll be sent to England, where you’re to be tried for your crimes,” Teach said.

  Easton eyed him, a slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Teach wondered if he ever took anything seriously. “Well, Teach, I’ll happily go back to England. I’ll even help crew your ship if you have the supplies to take us now. But there’s nothing you can say or do to make me return to Nassau. Strand us. Take the ship and go. We have a better chance surviving on this island with nothing but fish and lizards to eat than going anywhere under Webb’s control.”