23. Ships, Poems, and Death

TWENTY-THREE

ships, poems, and death

"What just happened?" Elias asks, landing on the main deck. "Did Kragen take Samirah?"

"I don't think there was any taking to it. She went willingly," I answer.

"What the hell?" Abram adds. "Why would she do that?"

"Because they're lovers," I answer, glaring in Thorne's direction.

Micah climbs over the side of the railing with Francis thrown over his shoulder, followed by Luna and Connor. He sets her down carefully. "Did he take Samirah?" she asks, propping her hands on her hips.

I repeat the story for the small audience, ending with Kragen taking off the deck with Samirah in his arms.

"What's next?" Francis asks as the group stands around, absorbing the overload of information. "Do we go after him?"

"Aye," Thorne answers.

I kneel next to what's left of my younger brother. Bertram's body is already starting to disintegrate, returning to the dust from which it came. "I'm so sorry, sweet Bert. I wish I could've helped you."

"You did everything you could," Thorne says, coming to my side.

"Not to ignore the obvious, but what are we going to do with this damn thing?" Francis motions to the pirate ship.

"We need to get it to port. I don't know how to sail something like this," Connor says.

"I do." Thorne stands. "I know how to sail it." He moves quickly to the helm, turning the wheel back toward the city of Charleston. "I need the lycan to man one sail while Elias and Abram man the other. As we move into port, you're going to have to lower them when I tell you."

"How do we do that?" Elias asks, moving toward the first set of sails.

"I know how…I think," Micah answers. "Switch with me. Between the four of us, we can figure it out."

"I know what to do," Francis announces. She moves between the two teams. "Tell me when you're ready," she yells toward the helm.

"Why does this feel sketchy?" Luna asks.

"Because it is," I answer .

We enter the river, pass Fort Sumter, and move closer to the main port of Charleston. Tourists at the fort have already noticed us and are either pointing or staring at the huge pirate ship passing next to them. Small boats begin following the ship as we move further into port.

I move next to Thorne. "Think this thing will fit?"

He huffs a laugh. "Things have changed quite a bit from when I did this before, but I think she'll fit." Out of nowhere, a harbor patrol boat appears, lights and sirens blaring. "Shit," he sighs.

"Just ignore them," Francis yells as she flashes her middle finger toward them.

The wind has picked up, moving the ship faster than necessary. "Francis, bring them down!" Thorne yells toward his granddaughter.

She starts barking orders at the two teams, who follow her every command perfectly. The spectacle of watching a nearly eighty-year-old human telling lycan and vampires how to lower sails on a three-hundred-year-old pirate ship is something that's not lost on me.

Between the two teams, the sails are lowered, and the ship begins to slow slightly, but not enough. "We're going too fast," I state the obvious.

"Aye, I know," Thorne answers. "We're going to hit the other boats."

The police boat speeds in front of us, slowing down enough to allow the stern of the ship to ram into the back of them, slowing the ship even faster .

"Hide what's left of Bertram," Thorne warns. "They're going to come aboard."

I follow the directions, lifting the powdery remains of my brother and hiding them in the captain's quarters.

The ship slows to nothing several yards from the marina. Everyone on board sighs in relief. Applause echoes from nearby boats, as unsuspecting humans stare in awe at the pirate ship that just entered the port of Charleston.

Just as Thorne suggested, three policemen board the ship, hands on their weapons. "What's the meaning of this?" the shorter of the three shouts toward Thorne.

He moves quickly in front of them with his hands at his sides. "I steered her into the wrong port," he lies. "It was completely my fault." He smiles a smile that can charm just about everyone he meets. "Thank you for your help, officers."

"Where are your papers?"

"I'm not sure," he answers. "However, I will cover any damages that may have occurred."

"Gentlemen," Connor greets the officers. "I'm sure we can work this out."

"Mr. McFadden. I didn't realize you were on board," one of the officers responds.

Connor straightens his now untucked shirt. "This ship is owned by Wolf Tours. I have all the paperwork at my office in the city. I'm afraid I neglected to bring it with me today."

"Yes, sir," the men answer. I'm not sure what kind of fuckery is happening before my eyes, but Connor must have major control of the city and the people who run it.

"Why don't you stop by tomorrow, and I'll give you copies?"

"That will be fine. Thank you, Mr. McFadden," the taller of the three answers before leading them off the deck.

"Did I just witness witchcraft in the flesh?" Luna asks, crossing her arms across her chest.

"No witchcraft." Connor laughs. "It's amazing what a little money and donations will do for an organization."

"Not to state the obvious, but how the hell are we going to get to land? Our ride just left." Francis doesn't look the least bit winded after helping guide the ship into port.

Connor pulls his phone out and is talking with someone within seconds. "My son is coming to get us."

Francis stares at Micah. "Your son is on the ship with us."

"My younger brother, Sam," Micah answers with a smile.

"While we're waiting, we should comb the ship for any clues to where Kragen and Samirah might have gone," Elias announces.

"Aye, but be careful. There could still be someone on board. Kragen's not the sort of man who would leave his ship without protection." Thorne resumes the role of captain quickly. He turns, slipping a hand behind my back. "I'll come with you."

"No, you won't."

"Elsie, you can't be angry at me. That was years ago, and it meant nothing more than sex."

"You're not helping your situation," I retort before storming off, leaving him alone on deck. I slide down the stairs, to the bottom of the ship and the hole where I lived for nearly one hundred years. In all honesty, I don't have a right to be angry, but I am. For all he knew, I was dead. But the thought of him wrapped in Samirah's arms, especially knowing that she was Kragen's lover too, pisses me off.

I clear my mind and continue moving through the seemingly empty ship. Remnants of the five humans I freed are still lying around. A few pieces of clothing, tattered blankets, and empty syringes litter the floor. The smell of death and drugs still fills the air.

I move further through the ship to the crew's quarters. Quarters isn't the correct word. It's more like a large room with hammocks stacked on top of each other. I laugh at the irony of vampires having hammocks to sleep in. Maybe Kragen added them for show. Certainly, no one ever used them for their intended purpose.

A loud crash sounds from the room opposite of me. I freeze, not sure what to expect. "Sorry," Luna's voice echoes .

"Be careful," Micah's deep voice answers. "If there is anything on this ship, they're going to find us."

"There's no one over here," I say, moving next to the two of them.

"Yeah, nothing on this one either. Did you find any clues where Kragen and Samirah may have gone?" Luna asks.

"Nothing. He's not stupid enough to go back to the Outer Banks. He could be anywhere in the world right now."

"I found something," Thorne's deep voice calls from upstairs.

"That sounds like it's coming from the captain's quarters." I run up the stairs with the two lycan on my tail.

We enter, finding everyone else already there. They form a circle around Thorne, who looks like he's holding a bomb.

"Is that…is that a bomb?" Luna asks.

"Aye, I think it is," Thorne answers.

"That son of a bitch." Micah moves in front of Thorne. "I spent a little time in the military. I think I can diffuse it. Hold it still."

Micah looks at every angle of the small blue box, as Thorne holds it close to his body. A series of wires are attached in various spots, giving it a very "made in the basement" type of look.

Several minutes pass before Micah speaks. "I don't think this is real. There's no detonator and no timer. "

"What are you saying?" Thorne asks.

"I'm saying that I think this is a dummy bomb."

"What if you're wrong?" I ask.

"Then it's over for the lycan." Micah wraps his fingers around two of the wires attached to the box. "1, 2…"

"Why are we counting?" Francis asks, coming into the room.

"Shh…" the room answers in unison.

"Is that a bomb?"

Micah pulls two of the wires at the same time and squints his eyes. Several minutes pass in silence. "Nope," he answers Francis's question. "Just supposed to look like one."

"I spent several days in this room. That wasn't in here earlier." I look around the group as I speak. "Why would he do that?"

"Maybe he left it behind?" Connor asks.

"Kragen doesn't do anything on accident," I respond. "That was a message."

A deep roar sounds outside the ship. "Sam's here," Micah says, throwing the fake bomb at Luna.

"Shit," she exclaims, trying to catch it.

We make our way outside, finding an exact replica of the boat we took to meet the ship docked alongside us. Instead of the bright neon yellow color of the first one, this one is neon orange and has the words "Wolf Pack" painted on the side.

"You don't even try to hide, do you?" Luna asks as the lycan begin working their way down to the boat.

Connor laughs, following the rest of them overboard.

"Why would Kragen have a fake bomb?" Francis asks as Thorne lifts her into his arms.

"Because he's an asshole," he answers, jumping from the deck of the ship to the boat below. I follow behind, landing beside them. Elias and Abram do the same.

"Howdy, folks," a younger version of Micah says from behind the wheel of the boat. "Looks like you guys could use some help."

"Thanks, bro," Micah answers, still holding the makeshift bomb. "We appreciate this."

"No problem." He nods to the bomb. "Is that thing real?"

"No, dummy bomb," Micah answers as Connor steps to the helm, taking us to shore.

Thirty minutes later, we enter the house that Thorne built. Micah continues to play with the dummy bomb, pulling different pieces off and putting them back in place, while I help Francis gather food for a meal. Anything I can do to keep from being near Thorne right now is great.

"What's going on between the two of you?" Francis asks, mixing the egg salad she just whipped together.

"Nothing," I lie.

She huffs a laugh. "You'd have to be blind to miss the looks you've been giving him. Does it have something to do with Samirah?"

I sigh, not sure I should have this conversation with her. Thorne is her ancestor. "It does," I finally answer. "They knew each other previously."

"Knew each other, or knew each other?"

I smile at the look on her face. " Knew".

"You can't expect him to be celibate for two hundred years."

"I know, and I didn't. It's just the fact that it was her, and he didn't tell me. God, I sound like a teenager, don't I?"

"Do you want the truth or a lie?" She smiles. "Why don't you take these into the living room, and I'll make a few more." I follow directions, taking the tray of sandwiches with me.

Micah is sitting on the couch, still enthralled with the dummy bomb, when it cracks into two pieces. Glitter explodes from inside, covering him in sparkles along with a note.

"Guys?" Micah pulls the paper out.

"What's that?" Luna laughs at the glitter covering Micah's torso.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

This one wasn't real,

But the next will find you.

"What does that mean?" Francis asks, bringing in the second tray of sandwiches.

Thorne makes eye contact with me with the same thought in his mind.

"There's a bomb in the house!" I scream and scramble toward Francis. Like a well-planned action sequence, Thorne grabs Luna, Elias grabs Connor, and Abram grabs Micah. Each of us uses our bodies as a shield to the mortals in the room.

Seconds later, an explosion rocks my eardrums, sending a low hum through my head. I focus on keeping my weight off of Francis as pieces of the ancient house fall around and on top of me. Her breathing becomes erratic as the weight of the debris is nearly more than I can hold.

"Stay strong," I whisper as the room finally becomes quiet.

"Elsie," a voice calls through my mind. "Elsie!" It takes a few minutes to figure out that's me. I'm Elsie. What the hell happened? Did I pass out? Can vampires pass out? The world around me is black. I can't tell if my eyes are open or closed. I try moving with no luck.

"I'm here," I answer. My voice is weak and muffled.

"I hear you," the voice answers. "We're going to get you out of there."

The sound of wood being thrown, and voices yelling brings memories of the bomb to the surface. Oh, my God, Francis. I remember throwing myself on top of her seconds before an explosion .

"Francis?" I whisper to silence with no response.

"Hurry!" I yell to my rescuers. "I don't think she's breathing."

Weight is being lifted off me, allowing a small amount of light into my space. Not enough to see Francis, but enough to tell I'm surrounded by large shards of wood.

"Elsie," the voice repeats.

"Thorne! Hurry, Francis…"

More and more weight is lifted from my back, giving me space to move slightly. Pulling my knees forward, I'm able to create enough space to keep my body over Francis and push upward with my back. The momentum is enough to push the remaining rubble off and provide the air that Francis needs.

Thorne is at my side in an instant. "Is she?" he asks, stopping to listen for her heartbeat. "She's still alive, but barely." I stand, lifting his granddaughter with me. Sirens fill the

air as rescue vehicles of all kinds flood the area, heading our way. "She needs medical attention now," I state the obvious, cradling Francis in my arms.

Her breathing has become worse since being out of the rubble. Each breath is a struggle more than the last. Thorne wipes a tear across his filthy face. He gently takes Francis into his arms and lays her in the safety of the grass surrounding what's left of her home.

"My sweet girl. I'm here with you."

Francis opens one eye. "Captain? "

He nods without speaking. "I'm here." He looks at me, asking a silent question. I nod, giving him permission. "Francis, I can change you. You can live forever."

She winces in pain and opens both eyes slightly. "No," she whispers. "I don't want to live forever in this body." She coughs deeply, spitting blood from her mouth.

"You wouldn't have any more pain. You'd be strong," he argues.

A stray tear streams down her cheek, leaving a path in its wake. "I love you, Grandpa, but it's my time to go." Her eyes shoot in my direction. "Take care of him." Her eyes close as she coughs one more time.

"I will," I reassure her. "I'm sorry, Francis."

She attempts to smile. "I'm not. How many people can say they've met their great-great-great-grandfathers?"

"Please," Thorne begs.

"No. I love..." Her eyes close as her breathing becomes even more sporadic.

"I love you, too," he cries. Francis takes one last breath until there are no more to take.

He collapses to the ground, with his arms wrapped around his descendant. "Elsie? Is she…"

I nod, taking his hand into mine. "I'm so sorry, Thorne."

A group of EMTs run toward us with their equipment in tow. They move to Francis immediately and begin working on her frail body. For the first time, I look around at what remains of the home Thorne built centuries ago. A few pieces of brick, along with the front steps of the home are the only things left.

Connor and Micah are alive and being cared for by one of the many ambulances on the scene. It takes a few minutes to find Luna, but I finally spot her on a gurney not far from the other lycan. I don't know where Elias and Abram are, but I have no doubt they survived the explosion. We're surrounded by chaos.

Thorne stands with his hands clasped behind his head, as he watches the gurney carrying Francis's body being rolled away. I don't know how to help him.