Page 4 of The Lost Child

I tried not to run as I made my way to the side of the ship I’d seen Gaitworth fall over. Leaning over the railing, I openly laughed.

The Weeper was the weapon of choice when anyone tried to escape one of our raids. It was a monster weapon, a longbow crafted from thick, hearty wood. It took only one arrow, but that’s all you needed from point-blank range. The ‘arrow’ was made of iron, one large point whose only job was to puncture. I wasn’t quite sure of the mechanics behind it, but as soon as the tip punctured something, large blades burst from the sides of the arrow, turning into a deadly anchor.

Jagger’s aim had been true, and it shot through the prow of Gaitworth’s small, pathetic getaway boat. Instead of floating away, the blade acted as a grapple hook as it towed them along with us. The first mate went white, realizing he’d likely die. Gaitworth sneered and screamed at him. The first mate starting crying.

Weeping, even.

Jagger grinned savagely as he secured the end of the Weeper to the ship rigging, ensuring they wouldn’t be going anywhere. I grinned and held my hand up. He slapped it with enthusiasm. Not only had I captured the target, but I’d also added treasure and manpower to the company. Well, the ones that made it through Gerrick’s … tests.

I glanced at the blood covering my hands, frowning as a mild vibration raced through my veins. This always happened after a big fight!

Jagger took both my hands in his, jaw tightening in worry. “It’s happening again, isn’t it?” His eyes lit up with anticipation.

I quickly pulled my hands from his, not wanting anyone to catch us being intimate.

“It’s fine,” I assured him instead, shaking my hands to try and dissipate the odd feeling. I shook myself as energy built up, compressing in my chest and making it hard to breathe.

Jagger leaned into me. “You know I can help,” he pressed, eyes boring into mine with startling intensity.

I scowled. “Now is not the time.”

“Seth, give the captain down there a pirate lord welcome,” I ordered. “Remember, no killing.”

The pirate in question shook his long mane of dark, dreadlocked hair. “My pleasure,” he rumbled, waving over two of his buddies. Working together, with muscles bulging, they painstakingly raised the dinghy boat up toward the deck.

I turned on my heel and raced up the steps toward the captain’s quarters, Jagger right behind me and slamming the door shut behind us. The sound of the deadbolt sliding into place was oddly loud. I paced the room like a trapped rat, vibrating with energy.

Jagger raised one eyebrow at me in a silent question.

I tugged on one of my braids, wanting to scream in frustration. There was only one solution. If I waited, the energy would take over. Strange things would happen. The crew would get spooked, and think it was my fault when things randomly exploded or changed shape. I mean it was, probably, but I didn’t need to feed into the whole ‘women are bad luck on board’ superstition that every pirate held to his chest like a religion.

Jagger would have to help me disperse it quickly before anything weird happened. Like always.

My hands balled into fists at my side. I hated being weak. I hated needing help. “Fine. Make it quick,” I snarled.

Jagger wiggled his eyebrows at me, but I was in no mood to be playful. The pressure was growing dangerously quickly, faster than it ever had before. One of the windows behind me cracked loudly.

Jagger opened his breeches, not bothering to take them off. This was going to be quick and dirty, but it was the only thing I’d found that worked.

He picked me up and threw me down on the giant wooden desk, flinging aside the maps, papers, and quills in our way. He tugged my breeches down over my bottom, but no further than that.

“Are you ready?” he asked even though his eyes were already fevered with arousal.

I wished it was the same for me, but I was too anxious. Too worried. I just wanted to get it over with, and get control back of my body.

I took a deep breath, trying to relax as much as possible. “Ready.”

Jagger thrust into me with all the subtlety of a slap to the face. He groaned, but I only winced. I knew if I wasn’t so inside my head, I knew I could enjoy this. There’d been other times when I had. But this wasn’t about love or quick passion. At the moment, it wasn’t even for pleasure. This was business.

I laid there with my back flat on the desk, fingers curling around the gilded edges. My body shook with the force of Jagger’s thrusts, window after window blowing out behind me. He paused, then flipped me over on my stomach, and gave my ass a smack. A twitch ofsomethingflared in my core, a small gasp escaping my throat.

Jagger snorted and hit my ass harder. I moaned.

“Something’s wrong with you, Rissa.” He chuckled, slamming back into me and keeping up a brutal pace.

I ignored him and his implications.This was business. This was business. I chanted it to myself over and over again. When it was done, everything would go back to the way it was.

“Gods, you feel so fucking good,” Jagger whispered over me, one hand pushing down on my back as if to hold me in place. That was new, but it seemed unnecessary. I wasn’t struggling. At least the windows had stopped blowing out.

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