Page 31 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

The rain had been pouring down hard for over an hour when Ardley made it back to the ship. The crew had been lounging below deck in the cannon room.

He walked around the deck, searching for his coat and the pipe he had kept ready in the left pocket.

“Where the hell is it?” he cursed as he walked below the main deck to sit with his comrades.

Lincoln held Big Red’s pipe out for him to take as he entered the room.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” the captain said, watching Ardley place his pipe in his coat pocket and lean back against one of the barrels.

“Sorry, Captain,” he said, then turned to pull out his psaltery from behind him and strummed a string. Boots reached out his hand towards Kitten, gingerly grazing her chin with his fingertips. She turned away as her face blushed from his touch. Then the peg-legged pirate invited her to dance. He was a fairly good dancer despite his missing limb. Kitten agreed and landed a gentle kiss on his cheek as she nestled into his arms.

Lincoln smiled as he leaned back against a barrel, with his elbows bent and hands behind his head, watching them flit across the wooden floor in a graceful waltz. Sadness stabbed at him like a dagger to his chest. He had a love like that once nearly six years before, but she destroyed every part of him when she vanished without a trace. After resting his eyes, his thoughts went to the day they met but only felt an emptiness in the pit of his stomach.

No,he thought. I cannot go back there.

He had to think about something else—anything else. So, he thought about the story Boots had told him on more than one occasion about how he and Kitten met. It was the kind of love story he wanted but would never have.

Kitten’s father was a ship captain who sailed for nearly forty years with Boots’s father—his first mate.

The two lovers dancing before their captain were raised as best friends until Kitten’s father went down with his ship. Boots sailed the sea with his father after that, never to see Kitten again, that was, until Lincoln invited them both to join his crew and sail the seas.

The rest was history.

As Ardley played a smooth song, Boots ran his hands down Kitten’s bare arm. The pleasant touch of his fingers sent a mountain of goosebumps all over her body. Then he laced his fingers around her voluptuous curves and pulled her closer to his chest. He twirled her in a circle, swaddling her in her caramel-colored dress. He then bent her backward; she arched as her head fell under his hold.

A smile reached her lips while he wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing her rear with the other hand. Kitten raised an eyebrow and gave him a provoking wink.

That familiar look of desire flashed in Boots’s eyes before pulling her towards his face. His lips touched hers in a tender kiss.

There was an indescribable connection as their bodies continued to sway to the soothing sound of the psaltery. The rest of the crew watched them in silence as Ardley hummed to the melody. Their dance stopped abruptly when a tall wave crashed against the boat. The ship rocked harder as the storm picked up. Boots and Kitten held to a barrel while the others gripped their mugs tightly. It was a priority to keep their sanity—their booze from toppling over.

The storm was fierce; the howling wind roared under each crash of the thundering booms across the sky.

Mazie trudged towards Lincoln, plopping down next to him and slung her arm over his shoulder.

“Somethin’ botherin’ you, Captain?” she said sluggishly, her voice pulling him from his thoughts.

“Nay,” he lied, holding out his hand. He faked a smile and spoke more eloquently than usual. He asked, “How about a dance, Mazie?”

“Naaaah,” she said back, forcing a playful scowl. “You aren’t my type.”

He dropped his hand.

“No need to look so dour; I’m not askin’ to take you to bed, matey. C’mon, only a dance.”

“How ’bout a drink instead?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder and lifting her mug.

He snorted. “Cheers, then.”

They clinked their mugs together and guzzled down what was left. Lincoln’s eyes wavered from Mazie and signaled Hill to mosey over with the rest of the bottle to top them off.

That night, they knew they could relax, dance, and drink while the storm passed. The next day, however, the slate clouds would clear. The sun would guide their journey to the Fae, where the breath of life and magic would give them the anticipated peace they had been craving for months.

* * *

Nola hurried to the ship once she heard thunder blast through the sky. She hoped the storm would drown out any noise she would make breaking into the pirate ship.

She noticed the gangplank was not set out, so she needed another way inside. Then she saw the vessel’s Jacob’s ladder, but to reach it, she had to jump. Backing up slowly on the dock, she sucked in a heavy breath, knowing that if she did not catch the edge exactly right, she would fall into the water.

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