Page 17 of Immortal Pirates

Raine realized his heart was ramrodding in his chest and his belly had gone soft and hot. His mouth felt shockingly dry, and his fangs…they were retracted, at ease—for it wasn’t lust and desire so much as it wasawe.

He knew she could transform into an eagle-sized hawk, but he’d not watched the change happen. And he hadn’t seen her in that form for more than an instant—and even then, he hadn’t known it was her until afterward.

Raine realized he was standing at the window of the cabin, clutching the sill, staring out over the ocean where Arial had flown—flown! soared!—toward the western horizon. She was little more than a speck in the sky, near the horizon, where?—

Damn andblast. By the Fates, she was flying right into the dark, rolling, ugly clouds.

Raine stared out after her, where she’d just disappeared in the darkening sky, willing himself to find her…to somehow discern the shape of those broad, graceful wings, to trace the path of her dips and dives and glides…

But it was too dark, and too distant—even for a Dracule equipped with super-sensory vision.

Arial, what in the Devil are you doing?

A knock at the door startled him, and Raine whipped around just as it cracked open to reveal Bladsoe, the first mate.

“Captain, I—what thefuckare you doing here?” Bladsoe—a titan of a man with wagon axels for arms and ship’s breadth shoulders—lunged across the chamber at Raine.

The mate was relatively fast for a mortal—especially one of his mammoth size—but Raine was so far beyond him in speed and strength he barely had to make the effort to move…andwhen he did so, it was just in time that Bladsoe couldn’t help from crashing into the wall beneath the window. He rushed past Raine so closely that he felt the rush of air.

In an effort to keep from destroying the tidy, almost-feminine captain’s quarters, Raine put aside the base desire to pummel something with the frustration that had built inside him in the last three days, and simply faced the man with his hands raised in surrender.

“Good morning, Bladsoe,” he said civilly but with a warning in his voice. “You’re going to want to stand up slowly and we’re going to?—”

“What have you done with her?” raged Bladsoe, lunging to his feet. His fists were tight and his eyes bulged with fury. He looked around the chamber as if expecting to find pieces of the captain strewn about. “What are you doing here? Where’s Arial?”

“I’m here at the captain’s invitation,” Raine replied—emphasizing Arial’s title—and before the mate could further express his violent disbelief, he brightened his gaze with a bit of eyeglow. It was the more expedient route to the logical end of their discussion; and, quite frankly, Raine didn’t want to take the chance the captain’s bed would be destroyed or otherwise mangled in the process.

He had plans for that bed.

“By her invitation?” repeated Bladsoe. His fists had loosened and his eyes went slightly dull. “Where is she? Is she hurt?”

“Yes, by her invitation. Captain Bonny is safe—” Raine hoped, glancing toward the horizon “—and she and I will be discussing our plans for the take-over of theDevil’s Target.”

“TheDevil’s Target. Aye.”

“Now you may leave, Bladsoe. A storm’s coming,” Raine said, quelling the stitch of worry that seemed to be making its waythrough his insides. He allowed the alluring glow to dissolve from his gaze. “How soon will it get here?”

“Two hours,” replied the mate. His eyes lost their dull sheen and he looked at Raine with clear vision, then shook his head a bit as if to clear it. “You…where did you come from?” A flare of anger and suspicion rose in his eyes. “You broke out of the brig and?—”

“Captain Bonny knows. There was a misunderstanding about what happened with Fergus. All is well. You can speak with her when she comes ba—when she has a moment.”

Bladsoe looked at him in consideration, and Raine was somewhat mollified to note that despite his brawn and quick temper, the man seemed to possess an above average bit of intelligence and common sense. For he not only didn’t make a move toward him again, but he also released some of his fury.

“All right then, St. Albans. You can believe I’ll be asking her.” Bladsoe gave him a steady look that told Raine everything he needed to know about the way the mate felt about Arial: he respected her, trusted her, and loved her.

In a sisterly sort of way.

And that he would give Raine the benefit of the doubt.

But the warning remained in Bladsoe’s expression: if he learned otherwise, the other man would bear the brunt of his fury.

And that, Raine acknowledged to himself, was a relief.

“Bladsoe, one more thing before you leave.”

The first mate gave him a cool look, and Raine met it with a clear, unencumbered one of his own that bespoke a wary, but respectful, truce.

“Fergus. What did you know about him?”