Cassandra's Pirate (The Atlantis Series) Read online

  Cassandra’s Pirate

  by Candace Smith

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2011 Candace Smith

  Published by Strict Publishing International

  The Atlantis Series by Candace Smith

  Miranda’s Destiny

  Harvesting Rue

  Slip-Stream

  Cassandra’s Pirate

  Collateral Trade

  Chapter I

  “Yeowch.” Sandra giggled and shifted her hips impatiently. Vincent was engrossed in his passionate mission between her thighs, and she could only see the top of his head moving back and forth in a nodding motion. His long blue-black waves were an unruly mess, disappearing behind the apron and skirt she had gripped in her fists and pulled up to her belly.

  At nineteen, Vincent was much taller and muscular than most of the lanky Fivers. With the constant fights in Fifth Realm, few dared to take him on. Hands down his speed and strength could outdo any of them, but it was his confidence and belief in fantastic schemes that made him the leader of his band of friends.

  With his dangerous, handsome, dark looks and voracious sexual appetite, Vincent was constant choice among the Fivertown women. Sandra was by far his favorite partner, though she was spending more time in Second Realm since her engagement. The Royals began looting the stock of Fifth Realm women and pickings were mighty slim. Still, Vincent’s attention to pleasing his partner kept him sought after and busy whenever he wanted a quick toss.

  And my, don’t he know what he’s doin’ down there. Sandra giggled again, and admonished, “No teeth, Vincent. You got to be gentle if you’re gonna’ fool a Lady.” Sandra had been handmaiden to a Second Realm woman for three years. She thought they were uppity and far too reserved to enjoy a good toss, and Vincent would positively terrify them with his sexual prowess.

  Spread before me is Sandra Chadwick, the prettiest Fiver in the Realm. Vincent’s tongue reached out for more of her, stroking up and down and then lightly nipping. She might protest the action, but the responses of her body admitted the lie. The thought that he would need lessons in seduction was laughable, but he let Pascal talk him into it when he learned Sandra was going to offer herself as his partner.

  “Vincent, shit!” Sandra gasped, clutching her raised skirt and swaying her head in the hay, tangling the long dark strands among golden stalks. Fuck it. What do I care about readying him for that haughty bitch, anyway? Guilt jabbed at her through her building passion. Because, I agreed. Yes, there was that. Fivers might break their word to citizens of the upper Realms, but never amongst themselves. She had agreed to teach Vincent how to seduce a Royal, but she found her resolve wavering with his deft attention. “Vincent, you have to slow down. You’ll scare the shit out of a First Realm Lady. If you want to keep her distracted instead of running in terror, you can’t… oh, oh god, Vincent.”

  A touch of jealousy towards the Lady rolled with the wave of her climax. Sandra let go of her skirt and wrapped her fingers through Vincent’s hair, gripping the silken strands and digging into his scalp. Her involuntary moves to both pull him away and then push him deeper made him smile as she shuddered.

  For years, Sandra thought she would have been perfectly happy living out her days in the squalor of Fivertown with Vincent by her side. Instead, she found herself drafted as handmaiden, and she worked her way up through the Realms. She got an eyeful of how the rest of their society lived. Like most of the Fiver women, it did not take long for her to compare the fine trappings to Fifth Realm. Watching her mother struggle behind mountains of laundry… fine silks and linens of the upper class; her father’s bent body and gnarled hands from working the docks… no, Sandra wanted escape from Fifth Realm as badly as Vincent did, and she caught the eye of a Second Realm guard.

  Vincent’s plans had always been to leave the Fifth Realm. Since he was a boy and discovered the wrecked schooner beached on the reef, he made up his mind to live life on the Aquadea Seas as a pirate. Four other Fivers, including Sandra’s brother, were following Vincent’s quest.

  The unlikely fifth member of their band was Pascal Dupree, a disillusioned First Realm young man. He met Vincent when they were twelve, and both chose the Royal Stables as a hiding place. Vincent was hiding from two guards, and Pascal was avoiding lessons on comportment. Vincent tossed the boy a pilfered apple, and spent the afternoon mesmerizing him with his stories of freedom and life on the sea.

  For Royalty, Pascal was a large man. He was not quite as tall as Vincent, and the soft life of First Realm had kept his muscles less firm. Pascal was as light as Vincent was dark, with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes that filled with amusement. He possessed little of the bland features of most Royals, and Vincent suggested his mother may have ‘slipped her knickers’ with a Fiver for a spell. Pascal certainly resembled several of the burly dockhands, and he carried no common traits of his First Realm father.

  Early on, Sandra discovered the futility of her attempts to seduce Pascal and convince him to settle her into luxury as a First Realm Lady. Other than the outrageous colorful costumes his station provided, Pascal held disdain for the trappings and pompous Royal events. Sandra could look into his blue eyes and see he had fallen under Vincent’s spell. He was just as determined to escape with the Fivers for life on the sea as an outlaw.

  Admittedly, the future was far less optimistic for a Fiver man. They would live the hard life of the lowest Realm and watch their chances to marry vanish. Their childhood sweethearts… those saucy, randy sex partners… found themselves recruited to the higher stations. As the Fiver women left, seduced by upper Realm finery, the shift had caused ten men to one woman in Fifth Realm.

  Three decades ago, the strange phenomena that besieged the upper Realms began to manifest. Only one girl child was born to every five males. This shortage of women did not seem to infiltrate the Fivers, and they continued to produce both sexes equally. As with everything else in Espedene, the Royals dipped their hands into Fifth Realm’s treasures, bankrupting the only worth they had left… their women.

  Vincent wiped his chin, and his intense dark eyes shined onto her face. His hand fumbled his breeches down, and Sandra squirmed. She always squirmed when Vincent’s desire, pictured so clearly in his dangerous features, presented itself in abundant clarity. Damn, I wish things had been different. Sandra pushed a vision of the young man she was to marry out of her thoughts and imagined her future, surrounding herself in fine silk dresses and jewels. At night, she would draw on Vincent’s handsome looks while she pleasured her Second Realm guard for the security and position he offered.

  “Shit, the Fivers will be sure to miss you when you leave to Second Realm.” Vincent pushed forward. With all the exuberance a nineteen year old could muster, he pounded mercilessly between her spread thighs. His extraordinary skills at seducing young women were backed by the stamina to uphold his promises.

  When desire gripped him, Vincent’s arousal demanded immediate fulfillment. He did not have the patience for Royal bullshit games. Lorena Astier would fall to his talents the same as every other woman he wanted, not that he was looking forward to seducing the pinched face shrew. The treasure Vincent was interested in was the beautiful new schooner Lorena’s father had the Makers build for her dowry.

  The couple disentangled their limbs and stood up, straightening their clothes. Vincent put a hand on Sandra’s shoulder and plucked strands of hay out of her hair with the other. He stared into her eyes, pleased that he was the cause of the aroused embers still lingering in their depths. It would be a long time before he would lay with a woman of such passion again.

  They stared at each other in silence, and Sandra felt a
sorrow that would leach through the grandeur of her new life. She forced a smile. Sandra knew this was the last time they would be together. “We had us some real fine times, Vincent. Finer than anything that guard will ever be giving me.”

  Vincent’s voice was deep, and she heard the husky desire remaining from their encounter. “You’ll be sittin’ on a throne wearin’ a jeweled crown, Sandra. It’s what you deserve. Not these muddy streets and the back breaking work of a Fiver.” Vincent kissed her forehead. “You be well.” He smiled, and Sandra felt something inside of her squeeze. “I’ll be hearing you’re the finest Lady in Second Realm.”

  Sandra wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. She wanted to remember the beat of his heart, the heat of his skin. She wanted to remember she had caused such a pleasurable reaction from the man. “Be well, my pirate.” She crushed a linen scarf she had stolen from a basket of her mother’s Royal laundry into his hand, and ran from the stable before he could see her tears.

  Vincent opened the linen. Sandra had embroidered a promise to try to help him, should he ever need her. There was a fine gold hoop earring, no doubt pilfered from the overflowing jewelry box of the woman Sandra was handmaiden to. A good omen to start my life as an outlaw, with a stolen scarf and gold.

  Vincent tucked the treasures into his pocket as the scrawny band of Fiver young men that would make up his crew slowly entered the stable. Tonight, they would leave Fifth Realm and sail away from Espedene. Tomorrow, they would wake as the youngest pirates in Aquadea.

  Tommy led the boys to the harbor, while Vincent made his way to Pascal’s chambers in First Realm. The last sounds he heard from Fivertown were his father’s drunken slurs calling after him and wishing him luck.

  Vincent had snuck to Pascal’s room before. He found the luxuries nauseating and preferred the squalor of Fivertown. While Vincent studied knickknacks on the dresser, Pascal laid out the stolen clothes he had gathered. Within minutes, Vincent began to regret the plan. “Not the hat.”

  “Yes, the hat.” Pascal had to argue each article of clothing. On this, he stood firm. “Most definitely the hat.”

  Vincent refused the undergarments completely, and the rest of the stiff brocade and linen seemed just as unappealing to him. Pascal spent months confiscating pieces from different batches of returned laundry. Just to find an assortment in Vincent’s size had been a struggle. Most upper Realm men were inches shorter and, as Fivers did all of their manual labor, even the Royal guardsmen did not possess Vincent’s broad muscles. Pascal finally managed to get his friend dressed, though Vincent’s rough Fiver visage continued to dominate through the costuming. Perhaps with Lorena this could be a plus.

  “I’ll point her out to you, but you better be quick. The woman does not linger on her choice.” For the past month, Pascal had placed himself in Lorena’s confidence and escorted her to the dockyard bars. She ordered him as if he were already one of her subjects and had no other interest in him. As regal as she presented herself in public, the woman had a taste for the Fourth Realm guards. Pascal was convinced she would not be able to resist Vincent’s Fiver crassness while dressed in their garb.

  “And you are certain she will leave her own engagement party?” Vincent did not understand much about Royalty. He questioned not only whether she would follow her usual course, but also if she could leave such a function.

  “Prince Ashton will be fighting last ditch efforts from desperate fathers trying one final solicitation of their daughters, and Damien Astier will be coordinating an effort to protect his daughter’s interests. Lorena will see this as her last bid for freedom away from the rigid conformity of the palace.” Pascal did not mention that Lorena had already ordered him to guide her outside for air at eleven.

  Vincent tossed his Fiver clothes out the window and into Tommy Chadwick’s waiting arms. The man disappeared into the shadows to join the other three men already hidden on the schooner. With the Royal engagement party, most of the guards stood watching the palace. The few left to look over the docks took turns slipping over to the taverns. It was an easy chore for Vincent’s friends to swim silently through the water and climb aboard the dark vessel.

  “You have your things stashed?”

  “Yes.” Pascal closed his wardrobe doors, not wanting to look at the fantastic assortment of colorful tunics and breeches he was forced to leave behind. Vincent instructed one traveling bag. He had found the largest he could and hid it on the schooner under the furled sail of the landing skiff. The hats were a problem. He hated leaving any of them. Two were packed; Vincent wore the burgundy, and Pascal’s was light blue.

  “Second thoughts?”

  “No, Vincent.” Pascal shook his head in denial, clearing his melancholy. He raised his blue stare from the closed chest and looked up into Vincent’s dark eyes. They held an infectious look of amusement and excitement that Pascal soon mirrored. “Absolutely none, my friend.”

  Vincent strode down the silent street towards Harbor Lush. Four men drinking tankards of beer glanced at the door, resuming their discussion when the tall man walking in presented no threat. They did not recognize him as Fourth Realm and decided that he might be a Three. If so, the man had not been invited to join the festivities at the palace, and he shared their disregard for dock duty in favor of a beer.

  Vincent sipped slowly, watching guards trade off until the original group returned. He pretended to be further into his cups to dissuade conversation. After they left and five others took their place at the bar, Vincent heard Pascal at the doors. “We must make it quick, Lady Astier. You will be missed.”

  A nasal voice dismissed his concern. “Do not presume to lecture, Lieutenant Dupree. There are a dozen men in line to present their sniveling daughters to the Prince. Father has Ashton’s ear. I will not be missed for many hours.”

  Vincent glanced at the men at the bar. Except for one, they were round and short, or generally… ugly. One was a taller, thin man with the beak nose of Second Realm. Somewhere in his ancestry, his family had been demoted a few stations.

  Lady Astier’s dress, designed from yards of shining gold silk, billowed from her thin hips. The top half of her was straight, at least from the back. There was no tapering to a waist, or an indicating promise of a swelling bosom at the front. Her hair looked like faded brown linen, intricately wrapped up in strands of colored pearls. Vincent found himself comparing her to Sandra and other Fiver women whose luscious curves were much more pleasing to the eye and the touch.

  Lorena glanced at the men at the bar. The skinny one straightened his lapels to approach her, but his eyes drifted over her shoulder. She turned and narrowed her eyes, staring into the shadows and seeing a large man’s form. She heard his gasp and she stood straighter, realizing the man was not used to seeing such beauty in a dockside tavern. “Come out where I can see you.”

  By rotten tins of shanker fish, damn, this is going to be hard. Vincent poured the rest of his beer down his throat. He had severely underestimated the cost of his schooner and fortitude he must possess to complete this task. Beady brown eyes hunted him, and pinched nostrils flared as if smelling something foul. Lorena’s face held the harsh reality of completely balanced Royal First Realm perfection. He pushed to his feet, watching her mouth… a mouth he would soon have to kiss. Thin lips resembled bloodless slugs, slashing across her jaw. Her attempt at red paint made the lack of lush fullness more pronounced.

  Pascal stood behind her, giving Vincent a ‘See why I’m leaving?’ look.

  Shit. If that’s what he’s destined to be married to, and she’s one of the pretty ones, shit, Pascal. Vincent carried his empty silver tankard and laid it down on the bar beside her. Her eyes widened and a sliver of tongue swiped the red paint on her lips. Vincent growled, “Buy me a drink.”

  Lorena could not believe her luck. This would be her last night before she would be jailed in the palace. Where did this young man come from? She studied his costume and could not decide in which R
ealm he belonged. Of course, she spent most of her time studying the guards with their uniforms off. He was a towering man with arms that could crush her, and if his size was any indication of his other endowments… oh, my. Her gloved hand fanned her face. “You presume to order me?”

  “I presume to do a helluva’ lot more than that, Lady Astier.” Vincent changed tactics after meeting the woman, and he watched Pascal’s nervous reaction.

  “Obviously you know who I am, and that I will soon be Princess of Espedene.”

  Vincent chuckled quietly. “And locked away in your cell in the palace.” Vincent braced himself, leaned down, and let a finger twirl a curl and strand of pearls away from her ear. He whispered, “And I been sneakin’ in there, since I was a boy.”

  Lorena felt her arousal. She whispered, “Unseen? You know how to breach the Royal chambers… unseen?”

  “I’m a Fiver, Lady Astier. I’ve been thievin’ from the palace since my mum was a handmaiden to the Queen. It was years ago she returned to the laundry, but I never lost my wandering ways.”