Page 73 of A Pirate's Pleasure

He turned back, his focus falling on Baravor first. “Any last words?”

Baravor shook his head, the noose moving with the motion. He looked like if he tried to speak, he’d cry, which was understandable given the circumstances. Reeve waited a few seconds in case he changed his mind before switching his attention to Zephyr. “Any last words, pirate?”

If looks could kill, Reeve would have burst into flames on the spot. Zephyr was no doubt imagining in bright technicolored detail what he would do to the man if it wasn’t for the manacles. Perhaps he was regretting not having already done it when he’d had the chance. “I am a pirate,” Zephyr said, his voice ringing out clear as a bell over the heads of the crowd without so much as a quaver in it. “But you shouldn’t believe everything you’ve heard about me. There are far worse people than me in the world. That said, I have committed crimes of piracy, so few would argue that I deserve to be here. But…”

He paused to offer a smile, the woman who’d commented on his good looks earning a filthy look from her husband when she fanned herself. “I wouldn’t change my life.” His gaze found mine again. “Well, maybe one part of it, but not the adventures I’ve had on the sea. I’ve seen things people can only dream of, been to places most people don’t even know exist, met people I’ll never forget, and who, in turn, will never forget me either.” He cast a sly look Reeve’s way. “So unfortunately, the name of Captain Zephyr Chase will live on whether I’m around to create new stories or not.”

Zephyr’s speech had a murderous look settling on Reeve’s face as he motioned to the soldiers whose job it was to kick the boxes out from under their feet. Time slowed, my blood feeling like sludge despite my racing heart. I was light-headed, my body struggling to remember what oxygen was, never mind how to use it.

A hush had fallen over the square. Hundreds of people barely moving as they waited for the jerk of the rope.

“Birds,” Whitby said at my side, his voice abnormally loud in the stillness.

“What?”

Tearing my gaze away from the gallows, I looked to where he was pointing. A bench that had been completely empty earlier could barely be seen now for the birds covering it. Most of them were seabirds. We were too far inland for there to be that many seabirds. Even as I puzzled over why there were so many, more came in to land.

It wasn’t just the bench either. A nearby tree suffered the same problem. As did the roofs of the surrounding houses on the perimeter of the market square. I tilted my head back, the sky full of beating wings as more and more arrived.

“You know what this means, right?” Whitby asked.

I did. I just couldn’t decide whether it was the best thing that could happen or the worst. It was quite possible that it was both combined. And then there it was, a much larger and darker shadow approaching at an alarming speed.

Lucretius Morgan wasn’t dead, and he’d come for what he saw as his. And woe betide anyone who tried to stand in his way.

A thud pulled my attention back to the gallows just as someone kicked away the box under Zephyr’s feet.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Zephyr

So after twenty-nine years of life, this was how it ended. I was at peace with it to a certain extent. You didn’t go into piracy without knowing the risks involved, but I’d thought I’d have a few more good years of it, enough to see me into my thirties.

At least Lief was here. I’d known, even as we’d had the conversation, that he wouldn’t be able to stay away. The blue of his eyes provided a soothing balm to the panic that kept threatening to engulf me, because while my mind might be at peace, my body kept insisting that there was a way out, that there had to be, that it couldn’t end like this.

And then they kicked the box away.

My body reacted of its own accord, my feet scrabbling for a purchase that wasn’t there. The pressure around my neck was excruciating as I tried to draw in a breath that wasn’t possible through the tight constriction of the rope. So this was what being hung felt like. No immediate broken neck for me, then. A long, lingering death, instead. Well, so be it. I was just sad Lief had to witness it. And Whitby. Him turning up had been a surprise, the cynical part of my brain saying he’d just wanted to make sure I was really dead before he sailed off into the sunset with my ship.

The world started to blur around the edges, the lack of oxygen making it difficult to think, everything in me screaming that I needed to breathe, that I needed to find a way.

And then a crash.

The sensation of falling.

The world tipping upside down.

Screams. Shouts. Footsteps.

None of it made any sense. If this was the afterlife, then it was a strange one. The rope was pulled from around my neck and I could breathe again, the air flooding my lungs cooler and sweeter than any I’d experienced before or was likely to again.

Fingers brushed my cheek. Lief. It had to be. He needed to cut his nails, though. I opened my eyes, the smile on my lips not lasting long. Brown eyes, not blue, and the teeth that still haunted my dreams stretched into a smile. Or at least, I assumed it was a smile. It was difficult to tell with the harpy in this form.

Lucretius Morgan. Still alive.

I didn’t know how he’d survived his plunge into the sea while unconscious, but survive it he had. The evidence was right here in front of me. Had he been following us all this time? Or was his arrival simply a reaction to news of my impending execution reaching his ears? He wouldn’t like that. If anyone was going to kill me, he’d want to be the one to do it. The skull collection wouldn’t be complete without it.

“Hello darling,” he said as I stared up at him incredulously. “Did you miss me?”

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