Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

AUGUST 30TH, 1666

T he sharpened spurs on Yves's boots clinked as he paced the polished floors of his office. Apprehension had lodged itself deep into his psyche, and it had only gotten worse as the Siren 's departure loomed closer. He'd ordered John to delay the Siren 's repairs, and he had, for a time. But there was only so much more Yves and John could do while avoiding suspicion. Rowan wasn't stupid. Yves couldn't keep stringing him along and distracting him with sex forever, pleasant though it was. Rowan would catch on soon enough, and when he did he would leave, possibly for good.

The thought filled Yves with unexplainable uneasiness. He'd never wanted to keep a lover before. Never felt such ownership over another person. Perhaps it was simply that he didn't want to give up such an intriguing plaything before he was done playing.

His measured steps slowed at the thought. Was that all Rowan was to him? All they were to each other? There had to be more than lust between them. Infinitely more. Now that he'd had Rowan, his obsession only grew. And every moment Rowan was within his sight, he only wanted to gnaw him to the bone, to get at the heart of him and find the answers to why Rowan had invaded his every thought. But thus far the closest Yves had gotten to that unattainable center was with his dick buried deep in Rowan's supple ass. That was the only thing that momentarily calmed the raging storm within him. Yet the more he fucked Rowan, the more ravenous he became .

The door opened, and Yves whirled around, but it was just John.

"You called?" John asked, shutting the door behind him. He seemed sullen. Yves knew that John was still uncomfortable with the situation Yves had put them in. John was a private, diligent man. Qualities that had suited him well in the navy, until they hadn't. He didn't like that so many strangers now knew their little secret and would soon be going back out into the world with the one piece of knowledge that could bring them to ruin quicker than anything else.

"The Siren 's repairs are almost finished," Yves said. He resumed his pacing. John's deep-set eyes tracked him back and forth across the floor. "I need you to delay them further."

John pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, a gesture that Yves was all too familiar with.

"I've delayed them by almost a week already. They're not dumb. They'll get suspicious."

"You need to do more."

John glowered at him. "I've already done quite enough."

But it wasn't enough. The hungry anxiety churned in Yves's stomach, and it wouldn't go away until he'd secured what he wanted. The inevitability of Rowan's absence gnawed at him.

"Listen to me, John. You need to use more than just petty tactics. We need to sabotage the Siren itself. Blow it up. Sink it for all I care…" He stopped himself, regathering his composure. "No, never mind. Don't sink it. Just damage it enough to see us through till winter." Yves knew Rowan would be heartbroken if he lost the Siren for good. But once the winter storms set in, they would have no choice but to hole up here on the island and wait it out. That would give him enough time.

"That's months away!" John protested.

"Then you better think of something good," Yves snapped. John was a ruthless and competent first mate, but Yves was growing tired of all this pushback, even if he knew perfectly well that John was right. What did John care whether the Siren was damaged? He'd sunk countless ships throughout his career. Wouldn't it be better for his concerns over the secrecy of Illusion if they stayed here?

John mumbled something under his breath.

Yves stopped pacing to lean back on the edge of his desk, arms crossed.

"Don't tell me you feel guilty." He couldn't keep the derision from his voice, even though he knew it made him a hypocrite. "You've been spending a lot of time with Mister Crowder as of late. I thought you were just distracting him, but perhaps it's something else? Are you fucking him?"

"You sound so judgmental of that, despite the fact you can't keep your dick to yourself. But no. I'm not sleeping with Logan. We're friends." John's face was stoic, almost purposely so. Yves was about to make another derisive comment, but John continued, "You need to think this through, Captain. With your brain this time. I've indulged your whims till now, but I don't?—"

Yves's hand snapped out and struck John across the face. It wasn't a hard hit. John didn't even stumble. But Yves's rings left red scratches on his skin, and the shocked look that flitted across his face instantly humbled Yves.

Still he barked, "As your captain, I order you to sabotage the Siren . If you don't, you will step down as my first mate." He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but he did not take them back. John's eyes flashed with anger. Yves valued him as a second-in-command, maybe even as a friend, but they were both hotheaded, and if this was the only way to get what he wanted, then so be it. He and John both knew that when it came to threats, Yves was a man of his word. "It's nothing you haven't done before," Yves snarled, adding the final nail to the coffin. They both knew what he was referring to, and they both knew how much of a sore spot it was for John.

Resignation replaced anger in John's eyes, and Yves knew he had won.

"Yes, Captain." John turned to go, his shoulders stiff. He twisted the brass door handle but did not open it. He turned back to look Yves dead in the eye. "You need to think about what you're doing, Captain. The Ghost Hawk's not your enemy. Not anymore. So you should stop treating him like one. You can't keep him here forever. Eventually you'll have to decide what's more important. Our crew or your selfishness." The door thudded shut behind him.

Yves turned away from the door, fist slamming into the polished top of the desk. He hunched over it, trying to get his anger and anxiety back under control. The tide of darkness rose, devouring any sane thoughts. If he was out at sea, pirating and doing what he was meant to do, he would have let it take over. He would have sunk into its cool embrace like drowning. He would have fed the souls of his victims to the deep pit of black water inside of him.

But he couldn't. Not here. Not now.

Yves's teeth gritted, and he punched the desk again, feeling something crack in his hand. Pain shot up his arm, and he welcomed it, fed the darkness with it until it was satiated.