The Pirate's Witch Page 7

  “I expect the clothing and food will be divided as we’ve done in the past.” Johnny stared over at the pile and continued, “I’m curious for that chest we grabbed from those men and cannot open. What say you, Captain?”

  “I like it. It will be the second mystery of this trip,” Deegan agreed.

  Johnny looked down and drew in the sand with his foot. “How is the girl, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Deegan knew the crew was still nervous that Clarette meant to perform something even more cruel than the exile. “Her magic is gone, Johnny. On one occasion, there was the same flash in her eyes, but she has forgotten the words. I am well into training her, so if Clarette truly returns through the girl, she will be broken to my word.”

  “She has not told you why she has returned?” Johnny pressed. The pirates were a superstitious lot, and had known about the magic of the mysterious dark women from Africa on Haiti. It was one of the reasons Deegan had never pursued the slave ships, and his crew was grateful to have such a wise Captain. None of them blamed him for not knowing Clarette had learned their secrets.

  “I think this woman is unaware of Clarette’s existence. Even through her fear, her denials are too consistent and my responses confuse her. I am keeping her gagged until she agrees to tell me. Maybe it will force the little witch’s hand.” Deegan shrugged, and the two men looked up to see the others had formed their strategy.

  The dickering, drawn out far longer than necessary with only the treasures of the two small boats, went on for two hours. There was even a roll of the dice over a tin of beets versus a tin of green beans. They never cleared the cold boxes on the ships because the meat or belongings spoiled quickly on the island, but the tins of vegetables that replaced the fresh loose fair half a century ago kept the food for years. With no vegetables grown on the island, the watered down versions were still a favorite delicacy. These new tins even had release mechanisms on top that could be used later for fishing rod eyes, and the tin tops could be shaped into hooks… still, Deegan and Johnny figured the men would have to come to their box of supplies within only a few years.

  Deegan and Johnny won their chest and fishing box without giving up too much, as the rest of the crew did not want to take chances with the rods that lay at the end of their land markers. The pirates wrapped their portions of the food into the cloth they had garnered, along with an assortment of matches, candles and miscellaneous trinkets to go with flatware and dishes. These were all laid out on the sand within the sections denoting their individual estates. The pirates spent the rest of the morning taking things back to their homes until the last items on the sand were the chest and the fishing box, which Johnny helped carry back to Deegan’s cave.

  Monique had watched him traveling back and forth all morning with different piles of belongings from the boats. Her arms were aching and she had cried herself out, but she stared hopefully each time she heard him come back to the clearing, willing him to let her down. He never even looked in her direction. At last, she heard him approaching with another man, and they laid a chest down by the fire pit.

  “I guess we will see what chance we took,” Johnny laughed nervously. For all the men knew, the chest might contain nothing more than clothing or blankets. Though, it was locked. The two men pried at the hinges with their heavy knives, Johnny banged on the lock hasp with a rock until his knuckles were bleeding, and Deegan resorted to retrieving a heavy boarding axe. The weapon had not been used other than for clearing land since they had landed on the island. The men discussed the assault and decided Deegan, whose size and strength would be more accurate, should strike close to the hasp and they would take their chances that whatever was inside would not be shattered.

  Deegan raised the monstrous weapon over his head and brought it down accurately, still splintering a good bit of the front of the chest, but the lock sprung free and flew towards the cave. Deegan dropped the axe and the two men knelt and opened the lid. They were speechless for a few moments, and then Deegan said, “You can have the fishing box if you want it, Johnny.”

  Michael Dalton and his fishing buddies were good guy lawyers from Florida. They had made a name for themselves sticking up for women in what had begun as divorce cases, and ended up specializing the last decade in the more profitable cases of sexual harassment litigation. They had long standing marriages with wonderful women who were very proud of their husbands’ dedication to such worthy causes… which made it awkward for the men to discuss their slightly scandalous sexual desires.

  Four times a year, the partners would stock their boat and head to the party islands of the Caribbean to find some fun loving girls. They enjoyed two weeks of sailing and fishing… and using their unusual toys far out on the water where the girls’ screams could not be heard. Actually, the girls were never heard from again, because the lawyers were very familiar with the legal ramifications of their actions. They kept their toys securely locked on the boat, and more than once the chest had been used by their wives as a side table.

  Deegan and Johnny held up the unusual assortment of items that included weighted nipple clamps and chains, whips and crops, colorful candles, a multitude of gags, and rubbery renditions of different sized cocks that would prove much less damaging then a belaying pin. There were blindfolds and head masks, arm bindings and harnesses… the deeper they dug into the chest, the more provocative the toys they discovered.

  They decided to try to divide the unusual plunder, and began by choosing the items that intrigued them the most. Johnny closed his eyes occasionally, picturing Thelma’s red hair and voluptuous body with different devices of torture attached. The last of the chest was handed out, and Johnny and Deegan shook hands on the most profitable trip they could remember, between the women, the rum and the chest.

  Deegan wrapped his new treasures in a blanket and stashed them away in the cave to refer to later. He was already late catching dinner, and did not want to have to get by on another meal of fruit. He walked over to the tree where the girl was wobbling, straining more pressure on her arms after the hours of hanging than on her legs. He loosened the rope from the cleat on the tree and she sprawled on the sand.

  Deegan removed the hook from the wrist cuffs and held her up. It took a moment for Monique to focus her eyes, and their tormented depths gazed into the pirate’s dark stare. “I’m going to take the kerchief off your mouth so you can drink. If you stay quiet, perhaps I’ll be persuaded to leave it off.”

  Monique nodded stiffly and licked her dry lips when the cloth was removed. She was relieved when he also unbound her hands. He pointed to the pond and she stumbled over. The water felt cool and she waded in and sat down, and lifted handfuls of liquid to her parched throat.

  Deegan watched from the shore as she gulped down water and splashed some onto herself to cool down. The water sparkled like diamonds on her skin, and his eyes focused on a droplet perched precariously on the end of one of her nipples. It remained there, never falling, and his eyes wandered up to the girl’s face. She was gazing at the rainbow made from the waterfall, lost in thought with an eerily peaceful expression.

  “Come,” Deegan ordered, and he saw the expansion of her chest as she sighed, finally causing the droplet on her nipple to lose its grip as she rose. Her face was now impassive, as though disturbingly resigned to his designs for her. She followed him silently down the path to the lagoon where Deegan’s private beach was blocked from the rest of the shoreline by two fingers of sand that reached out in the shallow water and were covered in tropical growth.

  Deegan was slightly worried he had pressed too hard, and that she was shutting down. Fifty years with Clarette both within in reach and yet unobtainable, was unnerving. He decided to back off until he discovered whether she was truly at the precipice of shocked silence or once again playing a deceitful game.

  He brought her to the shoreline and ordered her to kneel while he grabbed his rod and walked to a shallow pool formed by coral that trapped bait fish when the tide rece
ded. He scooped a few of the flashing silver treats out with a piece of net he kept in his pocket, and then he stripped off his pants and walked out into the rolling waves.

  Monique absently dug trenches beside her thighs, allowing the tide to wash over them and fill them with colorful coquinas. She studied the myriad of striated colors on the small shells, lost in deep thought. The pirate was fishing, waist deep in the warm water, and Monique’s eyes followed his strong bronze body as his arm drew back and cast the line.

  A thought flashed through her mind, and she pictured herself hanging in front of him, with the rod replaced by a long whip and his form identical, with the same movements of taut muscle when the lash was thrown forward to strike her. Her bottom lip trembled with fear… not at the thought of her torment, but rather the realization of how aroused the scene made her feel.

  Monique finally came to the conclusion that, for whatever reason, she was attracted to the sadistic man. There was no way for her to deny the fact, because every time he spoke, every time he touched her… every time she thought of him… it resulted in a pulsing, wet response. After hours of being gagged and bound to a tree, with her arms still feeling wrenched and aching, a part of her wondered both fearfully and with anticipation, what he would do to her next.

  Deegan yelled something in French, and even from the distance Monique could see the white flash of his smile when he reeled in a nice sized fish for dinner. She watched him wade back to shore, and hesitantly smiled up at his accomplishment.

  Deegan sat down next to her, removed the hook and threaded the fish onto a strip of leather with a piece of flat wood attached to the bottom of it. He handed Monique the fish while he retrieved his pants and ordered her to follow him back to the clearing. The pirate turned around a few times to see her holding the wriggling fish far out from her body and looking almost as frightened of it, as she was of him. He faced forward and smiled.

  While Deegan cleaned his catch, he sent Monique off with the basket. She spent extra time picking nuts from a pecan tree, and was almost running to make it back to the clearing. The fish was speared and cooking over the fire while she laid her collection on the table, prepared it the way he had shown her, put some tea in a bowl, and walked over to kneel by the fire. She remained quietly by his side until he divided her share of the meal.

  After they ate, he brought her to the pond to wash, and Monique settled into what was to be the routine of their evenings while she brushed his hair by the fire. Her fingers sifted through its length searching for stray knots, while her body was already tightening in anticipation of whatever tortures he would inflict when he led her to the cave.

  Deegan pointed to the bed, and Monique lay down. When he stripped and stretched out beside her, she resisted the impulse to cover herself, which at this point was a futile endeavor that only angered the pirate. His rough finger stroked across her nipple until it was an erect, rubbery protrusion.

  Other than her quickened breaths, she remained silent, not wishing to be gagged for not knowing the only words he had given her permission to speak. Something caught his eye and he lifted her hand. He stared at her wedding rings and the reflection of the firelight off the large diamond. The fact that another man had her as his possession, even though she would now forever belong to him, still offended him, and he slid the bands off her finger and laid them on his desk.

  Monique watched his lean body while he moved, and thought there was not a wasted inch of flesh. He seemed unaffected by both his physique and dangerously handsome looks. He was uninterested in the effect they caused and solely involved in his own concerns, and at the moment, Deegan’s concerns were that the rings might have been keeping Clarette from surfacing as the other girl continued to struggle to control the form.

  Deegan lay back down, deep in thought. Were there two separate souls inside the girl? Or was there only one… Clarette… changed through the years to adjust to the new existence she had been born to? The latter seemed more likely to him and, if that were the case, stripping her of the things she had learned to believe in would lead her back to him.

  After several minutes of his deep steady breathing, Monique’s eyes closed from the exhausting strain of the day. She rolled over onto her side with her back to him. Deegan ran his fingers through her hair and circled her with his arm to feel the warmth and softness of her breast. She shuddered a little, but remained sleeping as her body pressed back into him.

  Monique dreamed of her bedroom, of the last day when Frank exited the bathroom… only this time it was Deegan who came into the room, naked and more than willing to spend the morning with her. She smiled when he climbed back into bed and curled up behind her, slowly seducing her. When he entered her from behind, Monique stared up at the portrait and thought the figure looked like she was smiling.

  The dream seemed so real that Monique felt herself washing towards climax as her lover thrust into her while his fingers worked her clit, eliciting a passionate series of gasps… and that was when she woke up to find that only the scenery was part of the dream… the act was real. It was a fleeting realization before she quivered into an intense orgasm, the first she could remember that caused her to actually cry out. Deegan’s arms pulled her tight against his chest as he erupted in response.

  She stared at the rock wall long after she sensed he was asleep. Crazed thoughts bombarded her as she tried without success to figure out a reason she reacted so strongly to him. Finally, she drifted off without an answer.

  Chapter III

  Deegan’s Prize

  Monique woke to the sound of men talking outside, and she sat up and looked out to the fire. The smoke was already rising from the rocks, so she assumed Deegan had been awake for some time. She nervously climbed out of bed and slowly approached the entrance to the cave, hiding behind the wall to eavesdrop.

  “Thing is, the girl will be given no quarter when he returns, and she’s already addled.” Monique recognized the Quartermaster’s voice.

  “So why bring her to me? You could have kept her just as well, yourself,” Deegan replied.

  “Tommy’s going to be angry enough that she killed him. He does not need to be thinking one of us was messing around with her while he was gone.”

  This truly made no sense. One of her friends had killed the pirate who had taken her, and yet they were talking like they expected him to come back and punish her. Monique dared to lean around the wall of the cave, and besides three men standing near the fire and the Quartermaster further back by the trees, she saw Patti covered in blood and kneeling with silent tears slipping out of her wide eyes. Her hands were bound in her lap and Monique saw the stripes of lashes along her torso and thighs. She bolted from the cave and knelt next to her, pulling her head onto her chest while she hugged her.

  Monique glared at Deegan. “How could you let this happen to her?” Monique demanded. “Patti’s too gentle for this treatment, she can’t handle it.”

  Johnny answered, “Well, she was none to genteel to crash Tommy’s rum bottle over his head and slice his throat with the edge of the glass.”

  Monique swiveled her head in his direction and traced her fingers across one of the many welts on Patti’s thighs. “Look what he did to her. There is nothing she would have done,” she looked up at Deegan, “or refused to do, to deserve this.”

  Deegan looked at Johnny, and Monique thought she sensed a hint of guilt. Indeed, Tommy had dispatched his entire bottle of rum in one sitting, and had apparently made a game out of the girl’s shrieking. Johnny had listened to it far into the night, with Thelma finally having to be gagged to keep her cries quiet. In the morning, he reluctantly walked to Tommy’s next door estate to find the man with his throat cut lying where he had bled out by the fire, and the girl huddled by the cave wall staring in shocked silence and covered in blood.

  “Take the girl to the pond and wash her, then lay her down. See if she’ll drink some tea and get some rest,” Deegan replied. He turned to Johnny. “I’ll agree to keep he
r here, but we need to talk to him… unless her mind is already gone.”

  Monique still could not figure out what they meant by the man returning, but she was getting an uneasy feeling because the pirates seemed to take it for granted. She guided her silent friend to the pond and gently washed the blood off her, carefully avoiding the welts that had broken the skin. She laid her in bed and walked back to the fire for some tea.

  “Has she spoken yet?” Deegan asked.

  Monique shook her head. Even through her worries about Patti, she was not going to risk being punished herself for talking again. She carried the tea back to the cave.

  Deegan left the girls alone for most of the day to give Monique time to try to help her friend. Secretly, he wanted to see if she had been hiding her magic from him and if she would use it to help the girl. By early afternoon, Patti’s eyes were beginning to get a fearful cast, indicating she was trying to focus on her situation and not disappear into a fantasy world in her mind.

  When the trio left to the beach for Deegan to fish, he looked back on the shore and saw the young woman sobbing in Monique’s arms. He sighed as he cast his line, and decided he had better let her know she had not seen the last of her pirate. When Tommy strolled to Deegan’s estate to collect her tomorrow, he did not want the shock to send her back to her silent world again.