8. Chapter 8

“We’re under attack!”

Those three ominous words have my heart rate skyrocketing beyond reason. I shoot up in bed so quickly Pete is actually dislodged and falls off and lands on his ass. I might have found it funny if I wasn’t so freaked out by the idea that another ship is shooting at us.

“Okay, quick. Let’s pretend I’ve never done this before and give me a rundown of what I need to do,” I order both men.

All three of us get up and start dressing at the speed of light, as Jack explains.

“Everyone is pretty well versed in their positions and what is expected of them. We just need you to be safe.”

“Stop right there, hot stuff. I’m not hiding in here while you get all the action.” I caution him before he can tell me I’ll be the lil’ ol’ woman hiding behind her man’s back.

“I would never presume to tell you to hide, Vix… I mean, Loralei. But we need you behind the helm. The crew will control the ship as long as you direct us.”

I wave away the use of my real name, knowing full well we shouldn’t fall into the trap of using it amongst the crew. They would have questions if my men started calling me by another name.

“Vixen is fine, Jack. I’ll be at the helm, but one of you must be with me incase I do something stupid to jeopardize the crew’s life.”

“I’m at your side, always,” Jack promised as he buckled up the last boot and stood up to head to the cabin door.

“Mistress,” Pete calls out, drawing my attention to him. “Might I suggest something?”

“Always.” I nod.

“Killer… ah… he’s an idiot but an excellent fighter. It would probably be best if we had him with us.”

My eyes squint as I stare at Pete, trying to determine if the sexy redhead has an ulterior motive. He shouldn’t because, for all intents and purposes, I wrote him to love Vixen completely.

My internal debate lasts only a second, but unfortunately, another cannon blast stops me from thinking it through completely. This one sounded like it came from our ship.

“Fine,” I bite out. “But you’re responsible for him. If he causes any shit, I’ll have Jack tan your ass for me.”

Pete’s fair skin turns a soft shade of red as he looks down at the floor. Does my sexy pirate want the big bad wolf to spank his ass? This will need to be explored later, though.

I move to leave the cabin but am stopped short by Jack, who grabs me by the waist and pulls me flush against him. “Fight hard, my heart,” he whispers before his lips descend on mine. His tongue darts into my mouth as he steals a breathtaking kiss before pulling away and storming out the door.

Shocked speechless, I stand there for a beat, allowing Pete to step into Jack’s vacated spot. He doesn’t have any last words for me, but he continues the trend by licking my still-open lips before taking a taste for himself.

Another large bang shakes us both from our impromptu make-out session. Feeling like an idiot for being that heroine who stops to make out in the middle of an action sequence, I shake off the lust-filled stupor and rush out the door.

We’re met with controlled chaos when we make it to the deck. Men rush everywhere, everyone with a clear purpose or task—clusters of crew bundle around the cannons, their movements a beautifully choreographed dance.

Pete breaks away to head to the latch leading to the brig, and I make my way to the helm, where Jack is already behind the wheel, shouting orders.

“Captain!” he calls out when he sees me coming. “It’s the Black Barnacle. They must have heard about our last windfall.”

“Fucking idiots,” I bite out, remembering the last ‘windfall’ the crew had. I suppose to some, it might seem like something to try and steal. It had to me, after all. But riches and treasures it was not.

On a flight of fancy, I had made Vixen and the crew raid a ship carrying everything she would need to make her own gin.

So what? Pirates are supposed to drink rum. However, Vixen isn’t your regular pirate. She wants gin instead.

And there is no way on earth I’m letting anyone get their hands on what might be the only way for me to continue my gin obsession. Maybe this isn’t a dream after all, and I’ll never go home. Then I’ll need the distilling equipment.

“They can’t have our gin!” I call out and am rewarded with a raucous chorus of pirates returning my chant with one of their own.

It’s utterly ridiculous and definitely shouldn’t be something you put your life on the line for. I know this. Really, honestly and truly, I do.

But this small part of me is reveling in the idea of an honest-to-goodness fight with another band of pirates over our booze.

Jack makes room for me, and I step up behind the helm. The feel of the wooden wheel is foreign in my grasp, but the strong, capable man standing beside me, watching me, gives me the boost of confidence I really need. If I fuck anything up, I just know he will step in and help me out.

A sixth sense has me holding out my hand to him. “Spyglass,” I order and am rewarded with a long telescope and a warm smile.

He points me in the right direction, and I lift the old-fashioned device to my eye to get a look at the enemy. The Black Barnacle is about twice the size of our pretty ship and three times as daunting.

The Siren’s Vengeance is small, fast, and made of a lovely sweet cherry wood. The vast sails are a soft cream instead of the usual white or black. It is precisely what it looks like—the ship of a female captain.

In contrast, the Black Barnacle is large and made from the darkest woods. The sails match the ship and its name, making it an imposing sight. Through the looking glass, I spy a tall, large bear of a man standing behind the helm.

He’s the definition of the stereotypical pirate. Peg-legged, with a large black overcoat and a fucking patch over his right eye. I can’t make this stuff up.

Honestly, I don’t think I did. I am sure I would have remembered writing in a cringe-worthy pirate like the captain of our opposition. “What’s his name?” I ask Jack softly, hoping no one else hears me. I’m pretty sure I am supposed to know who it is.

“That’s Snake-Eye Stan. He’s one of the most wanted pirates on the seven seas. Known for killing off entire crews and sinking their ships.”

Jack’s words cause a shiver to run down my spine. How the hell were we going to beat them?

“Is The Vengeance faster than the Black Barnacle?” I ask, hoping for the perfect answer.

“Barely. He also caught us by surprise. He’s coming in at a fast speed.”

“So we fight?” My heart hammers in my chest, and I have to concentrate to keep my clammy hands on the steering wheel in front of me.

My big wolf looks down at me with a wicked smile. He is, after all, a fearsome pirate himself.

“Aye, we fight. And we win. Because we have you, the temptress of the ocean, on our side.”

We share a look that fills me with another boost of confidence. Jack really believes what he just told me. Which in turn makes me believe it, too. I turn back to the helm and stare out at the men on the deck below me.

Bringing my fingers to my lips, I whistle, drawing everyone’s attention.

“My loyal crew! I will keep this brief because we have little time.”

The entire crew lets out a roar of encouragement, filling me with pride and joy.

“Today, under the clear sky, with the wind in our sails, I will remind you we are more than pirates. We are the embodiment of freedom. We do what we do, not to plunder and pillage but to build a life for ourselves free of tyranny.

“We shall not allow these bastards to take that away from us. We might face a formidable foe, but we will not fail! With sharp blades and strong hearts, we will show them what we’re made of. Onwards men! Tonight, we become legends!”

Each and every person on the deck cries out in agreement. I take a moment to experience the pride and loyalty that beams from them before turning back to Jack.

“Let’s turn the ship, face them head-on. They won’t know what hit them.”