5. Haunted Women of the Otherworld 5 Kelley Armstrong

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would come in handy someday."
"So you can really use that thing?"
He grinned. "Try me."
I raised my cutlass into something that vaguely resembled Kris's "en garde" position.
"Ready?" he asked.
I nodded. He lunged forward and knocked the cutlass so hard it flew from my hand, and left my wrist
vibrating.
"Hey!"
I ducked to grab my cutlass, then stopped as I felt the tip of his sword pressed against my throat. Still
crouching, I looked up at Kristof.
"It would seem, sir, that you have me at a disadvantage."
"So it would."
He slid the sword tip down my throat to my chest, and traced a line down my cleavage, caught the edge
of the bodice, and plucked it off my breast. The moment his attention was diverted, I flipped backward,
grabbed my cutlass, and sprang to my feet. Kris lunged, sword raised. I feinted and swung around him,
then lifted the cutlass blade to the back of his neck.
When he felt the blade shift, he ducked and spun, sword raised. We sparred for a few seconds. Then he
caught the underside of my cutlass and knocked it from my hand. I quickstepped backward and
slammed into a wide tree. Kristof lifted his sword tip to my throat again.
"Mercy?" he asked.
"Never."
Kristof laughed and slid the blade down my chest again. This time, he snagged the first lace on the
bodice, and sliced through it.
"Kris& "
He caught the second lace on his sword tip.
"Kris& "
"Oh, you know I wont do anything," he said. "Won't even try. Not until I know you're ready. I just like
to& " A small smile as he pressed against me. "Remind you. In case you've forgotten what it was like."
That was one reminder I never needed. I'd had lovers before and after Kristof never many, I was
always too particular to share my body with just anyone but Kris was the only man I'd ever lost control
with, the only one I'd never been able to get enough of. And now, feeling him hard against me&
Oh, to hell with this.
I tilted my hips up. Kris pressed closer, letting me lift my legs and wrap them around him. I wrapped my
hands in his hair and kissed him. Kris moaned and slid his hands into my breeches, and grabbed my rear,
pulling me tighter against him.
Then he tensed, resisting. After a moment's hesitation, he tugged my arms down and stepped back.
"You aren't ready," he murmured.
"No?"
I took his hand. He let me slide his fingers under my waistband, then jerked his hand away and took
another step back.
"I don't mean ready for a five-minute bang against a tree, Eve. That's not good enough. I want you back.
For now and forever. I mean that."
"Kris, I've told you "
"You don't want that kind of relationship. Yes, you've said it. Over and over. We couldn't make it work
the first time, so we shouldn't try again. A nice, pat excuse "
"It's not "
"Since when have you ever failed at something once and given up? It's an excuse, Eve a simple excuse
for avoiding the very complex problem that's you and me, and everything we did and didn't do once upon
a time. You aren't ready yet. I know that. And I'll wait until you are." He gave a small smile. "It's not like
I'm going to run out of time."
"I "
"Speaking of time, though, you have a job to do, so I'd suggest we stop screwing around or talking
about why we aren't screwing around and get back to work."
Our goal was, of course, to get passage to Roatan, preferably that night. So we started down to the
wharf. The first three pirates we passed did double-takes at my outfit, but only murmured greetings and
kept walking. When we drew within twenty yards of the harbor, we had to pass a grizzled old salt with
an eye patch. He heaved to his feet and blocked our path, hand on his sword. Unlike the others we'd
seen who'd had the look and dental work of men who'd never seen the Jolly Roger outside a movie
theater this guy could have been the real deal, with blackened teeth, swarthy battle-scarred skin, and
serious hygiene issues& which probably explained why he'd been consigned to harbor duty.
"Avast!" he growled, voice thick with a near-impenetrable accent. "Who ye be?"
"Visitors," I said. "We just arrived, and we wanted to see the ships "
"Not dressed like that, ye ain't, missy."
"Our outfits may be somewhat anachronistic," Kristof said. "Yet certainly no worse than others we've
seen so far." He glanced over the pirate's stained and ragged ensemble. "Excepting your own fine
attention to period detail, of course."
The pirate's lip curled. "Don't give a damn about yer britches, lad. It's hers that's t'problem. No wimmin
pirates allowed here. Only wenches."
"Wenches?" I said.
"That may be your usual policy," Kristof said. "It may also explain the notable lack of female
companionship available in your fine town. Might I suggest you reconsider "
"I'm not reconsidering anything, lad. Either she changes herself into a proper wench, or ye best be
reconsidering staying in La Ceiba."
Kristof opened his mouth to argue, but I shushed him with a look. Flexibility is the key to progress. So I
slipped behind the nearest hut, and made a few minor alterations to my costume. The shirt, boots, and
earrings stayed. The breeches gave way to a peasant skirt. A few necklaces and I looked as darned
wenchy as I was getting. As for the cutlass, well, as much as I hated to part with it, I reminded myself
that I could conjure it up anytime I felt the need.
I stepped from behind the hut.
The old pirate ogled me with a gap-toothed grin. "Now, that's more like it, ma beauty." He elbowed
Kristof in the ribs. "Got yerself a damned fine wench there, lad."
"Uh, thank you."
"So, sir," I said. "Perhaps, if you have a moment, you'd be kind enough to tell us how we could get to
Roatan."
"Roatan?" His face scrunched up. "Why ye want to go to Roatan? All faction be here, on this side o' the
bay."
"Perhaps," Kris said. "But we really must get to Roatan. Is there a ship we could charter?"
"This ain't t' Yacht club, lad. Ye don't charter a pirate ship. Ye wants passage, ye gots team it, by going
on account."
"Going on account?"
The pirate slapped Kris on the back. "Joinin' a crew, lad. Joinin' a crew."
"I& see. Well, thank you very much for your time. Mind if we take a stroll along the harbor?"
"Stroll away. Ye wants to be joinin' a crew, now, ye lets me know, an' I'll set ye up." He slid a sly smile
my way. "And I'll look after yer wench while yer at sea."
We thanked the old pirate and headed to the wharf. If we couldn't charter a ship, we'd need to steal one.
Unfortunately, it quickly became obvious that every ship was guarded by at least two men, and the
galleons were packed in so tight that the moment we boarded one, we'd be beset by attackers from the
others.
I turned to Kristof. "They might not encourage rentals, but I bet we can find someone willing to bargain."
"Up to the taverns, then?"
I nodded.
We picked the largest of the three taverns along the main road. A sign at the door warned against the use
of weapons, magic, and supernatural powers of all kinds. Kristof vaporized his sword, then pulled open
the door and ushered me inside.
Chapter 22
INSIDE, THE CLATTER OF STEEL MUGS COMPETED WITH the roar of voices raised in laughter
and anger. The air was thick with cigar and wood smoke. Did pirates smoke cigars? Didn't look [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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