Pirates of Aletharia, page 32
To Emilia’s surprise, Maria laughed loudly at that. This time, she didn’t even ask. She just took Emilia’s tankard and went to refill it.
At this point, Emilia realized that Maria must’ve intended to give Emilia all of her own water—on top of the rations she was already allotted.
And Emilia had no idea how to repay her.
What sense did it make for Maria to be so unabashedly self-serving one moment and so quietly selfless the next?
Was it another trick?
“Tell me about this drug he used,” Maria said, as she refilled Emilia’s cup. “It sounded as if you recognized it.”
Emilia’s throat constricted at the question.
Maria returned to the bed and offered the tankard to Emilia. “What is it, love?”
Emilia took the cup, staring at the clear liquid inside. “I think,” she said uneasily, “you might be the one person who’d know why I recognized it.”
Maria’s dark gaze softened. “It’s the same one they put in your water? In the dungeons?”
Emilia nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
“I see,” Maria said softly. She sat down next to Emilia and took another drink from her flask. “You wouldn’t happen to know where someone might find this drug, would you?”
“It’s a dangerous drug. Just a few drops of hemlock short of a poison,” Emilia said. “It’s not something you’d want to make if you didn’t have experience in healing.”
“Are you saying your attacker had experience in healing?” Maria said with a frown. “I don’t think that describes anyone on the Wicked Fate. Except you, of course.”
Emilia shook her head. “No, what I’m saying,” she explained, “is that I don’t think the attacker was the one who made it.”
“You think he bought it from someone?” Maria said.
“Or it was given to him,” Emilia said.
“If it’s that dangerous,” Maria asked, “why does it even exist?”
“There are some surgeries that are best performed when the person’s unconscious,” Emilia explained. “On my island, we had…safer methods of inducing sleep.” She carefully omitted any mention of magic. “But in Illopia, they use this one, dangerous drug.”
“So, in order to get this drug,” Maria assumed, “you’d need to know a surgeon?”
“Not necessarily,” Emilia said. “It’s one way to get it, but there is another.”
“And what is that?” Maria asked.
Emilia sighed, “At this point, I’m guessing the entire Illopian Guard has been advised that, to capture me, I’ll need to be unconscious.”
Maria lifted both eyebrows, and a grin that looked almost…impressed spread across her face. “You must’ve been a difficult prisoner.”
“I put up a fight,” Emilia admitted. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Maria said, shocking Emilia. She leaned closer, pride burning in those warm, brown eyes. “As a matter of fact, it makes me like you more.”
Emilia’s cheeks warmed beneath Maria’s gaze, and her heart fluttered ever-faster inside her chest.
“Why are you saying this?” she breathed.
Maria’s warm gaze left her, as abruptly as it came. “So, you think the Illopian Guard has its own supply of it?”
Emilia blinked. Was she just supposed to pretend that last remark hadn’t happened?
“I assume so, yes,” Emilia said.
“The Illopian Guard won’t set foot in Nefala,” Maria said. “They have no friends there.” She took another drink from her flask. “Perhaps they bribed someone to go to Nefala for them.”
“And onto your ship, too?” Emilia said skeptically.
“I imagine that was just a happy coincidence for him,” Maria said, “finding out that I’d hired you.”
Emilia watched her curiously.
“Well,” Maria said with a dark smile, “it’ll be the opposite of happy soon enough.”
Emilia nearly shivered at the cold brutality in her tone.
“You really mean to kill this guy,” Emilia realized.
“Of course,” Maria said, her deep, brown eyes shifting toward Emilia, “and you’re going to help me.”
Emilia’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” Maria said with a wicked smile. “You’ll make such lovely bait, Em.”
“Bait?” Emilia said.
Emilia didn’t like the sound of that at all.
“How are you feeling, love?” Maria said, as if she hadn’t just mentioned using Emilia as bait. “Did the water help at all?”
“Umm, yes? Thank you,” Emilia said with a wary frown. “I’m still dizzy, but my stomach seems to have settled.”
“And the headache?” Maria asked.
Emilia’s frown deepened. “How did you know about the headache?”
“You spoke a little in your sleep,” Maria said.
“I did not,” Emilia said, mortified.
“You did,” Maria said with a gentle smile. “I asked you what hurt, thinking you’d say the wound, but you said it was your head.”
Emilia stared, her eyes wide. “I was asleep?”
Maria gave a languid shrug. “Seemed to be.”
“I didn’t say anything else, did I?” Emilia asked.
Horrifically, Maria didn’t even answer that. “You need more water, don’t you?”
Before Emilia could say no—that Maria should save some for herself—Maria took the tankard and carried it to her table.
Emilia could not have been more confused by Maria’s behavior today.
Even as a child, Emilia had never been cared for the way Maria was caring for her, now. And even if Maria was doing it for her own purposes, it still seemed so…unlike her.
Maria picked up the flagon of water that she’d left on her table and refilled Emilia’s cup. Again. “You can stay with me until noon,” she offered, “but sick or not, I’ll need you in the galley by midday. Can you handle that?”
“If Judith needs me, I’ll go now,” Emilia assured her. “I’m still dizzy, but there must be something I can do.”
“For fuck’s sake, Em, I’m not sending you back to work when you can’t even walk,” Maria scoffed. She returned to Emilia, offering her the water. “You’ll stay with me until midday.”
“What’s so special about midday?” Emilia asked.
Maria’s smile tilted wickedly. “That’s when we set our trap.”
Emilia frowned. “So, you won’t send me back to work when I’m sick, but you will dangle me in front of the dangerous pirate who stabbed me last night?”
Maria lifted her lean shoulders in an uncaring shrug. “That part’s unavoidable, I’m afraid.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Emilia muttered.
Maria’s gaze shifted downward, lingering on the tear in Emilia’s shirt. She pocketed her flask and knelt in the floor, in front of Emilia.
Reaching a hand toward Emilia’s shirt, Maria murmured, “May I see it?”
Surprised by Maria’s hesitation, Emilia nodded.
Emilia couldn’t help but shudder, when Maria’s thumb brushed her hip. She looked down, watching as the pirate captain lifted the hem of Emilia’s shirt—checking the blood-soaked fabric beneath it.
“I’m no surgeon,” Maria said hesitantly, “but I splashed some rum over the wound and wrapped it.” She lifted her gaze to meet Emilia’s. “Was that enough, or will you need some sort of antidote?”
“It wasn’t a poison,” Emilia reminded her, “and the drug usually only lasts about twelve hours. Give me a bit, and I’ll be as good as new.”
At this angle, Maria’s dark, silken eyelashes cast shadows over her beautiful, brown eyes.
It was cruel—for a dangerous woman to be that beautiful.
How was Emilia supposed to make rational decisions when the woman who might kill her looked like that?
“Does it hurt?” Maria said softly.
For the sake of her pride, Emilia wanted to say no, but something about Maria’s expression drew the honest answer from her lips.
“Yes.”
Maria’s thumb traced the fabric. “Ask me for his head, and I’ll give it to you.”
Emilia’s eyes widened. She didn’t know whether to feel appalled by that offer—or amused by it.
Maria was like Emilia’s dragons—bringing her some strange, gory gift and expecting her to appreciate it.
It was cute—in a murderous sort of way.
“I don’t want his head,” Emilia assured the captain. “My cabin’s too small for it. I don’t think I could handle the stench.”
With no warning whatsoever, Maria folded forward, bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter.
Emilia smiled at the sight.
So much for their perfectly balanced hate-relationship.
Maria must’ve laughed for a good minute or two, before she finally climbed to her feet.
She didn’t mention the joke—or why she’d laughed so gleefully about it. She simply returned to her table.
“Helen and Pelt will probably tease you about getting so drunk last night,” Maria said, as she refilled her flask. “Let them tease. I promise they’ll only like you more.”
“But,” Emilia said with a frown, “I wasn’t drunk last night.”
“Yeah, definitely don’t say that,” Maria muttered.
Emilia’s frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”
Maria turned toward her. “I had to tell them something. I need you to not contradict my story.”
“Oh,” Emilia said.
“Pelt said you drank your ‘rum’ very fast,” Maria said with raised eyebrows, “so that lie sort of dropped into my lap.”
“Yeah,” Emilia said with a nervous smile. “I didn’t know if you’d want them to know about the wine…”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Maria asked.
Emilia shrugged. “Because of the rumors?”
Maria smiled. “I thought you said it wasn’t your job to make sure my crew respected me.”
Emilia swallowed uneasily. “That’s not—”
“That’s exactly what you did,” Maria argued. “You lied to protect my reputation.”
Emilia looked away, blushing. “Maybe I was drunk, then.”
“And after a fight, no less,” Maria said.
“Clearly, I wasn’t in my right mind,” Emilia grumbled.
Maria crossed her arms, grinning at that. “We drink a lot more than landsmen do, so it’s practically tradition for new sailors to get drunk.” She laughed, “You may have unintentionally improved your own reputation, as well.”
Emilia gave her a bemused look. “So, your crew likes me best when I’m punching huge men and getting drunk?”
Maria’s smile faded. “They’re your crew, too, Em.”
“For now,” Emilia said.
Maria narrowed her eyes at that.
Emilia couldn’t help but think the pirate captain behaved a little like a sullen child, when she didn’t get her way.
Well, perhaps a little more murderous than a sullen child.
But the glare was similar.
Maria tilted her head, her silky, brown curls falling to one side. She studied Emilia with a thoughtful frown, before tucking a hand behind her back.
A bit unnerved by her scrutiny, Emilia shifted her gaze toward the windows, instead. From her place on the bed, Emilia saw nothing but blue—with the occasional seagull flying overhead.
Wood creaked beneath Maria’s boots, and the sweet scent of hibiscus and oranges enticed Emilia’s senses.
Emilia cast a curious glance at the pirate captain, who now stood directly in front of her.
Was she waiting for something?
“Em,” Maria said with a devious smile. “Would you mind picking up that bucket of water for me?”
“Oh,” Emilia said. She looked down at the bucket of sea water that Maria had left by the bed and knelt to pick it up.
The moment she bent forward, however, Maria wrapped one hand around her shoulder and shoved Emilia backward with her thigh.
The bucket fell from Emilia’s hands, and the sea water spilled out of it, soaking the floor.
Maria didn’t even stop to look. She shoved Emilia back and swung her thigh over Emilia’s waist.
Emilia froze the moment Maria pressed a knife to her throat.
So, even when Maria wasn’t wearing her swords, she was still armed?
Figures.
None of it had hurt, surprisingly enough. It was more pressure than pain, when Maria pinned her to the bed.
Emilia had no doubt that it would’ve hurt, if Maria had kicked with her knee, but she’d used her thigh, instead—controlling Emilia’s body without bruising it.
Beside Emilia’s head, Rat-Slayer opened one frosty, blue eye and peeked at them—before settling back into a deep sleep.
Apparently, her heroic, feline protector didn’t care, as long as it was Maria attacking her.
Little traitor.
Maria’s hair hung around her face in dark, silky ringlets, and the scent of the sea itself surrounded them.
“What,” Emilia forced out, even as the blade pressed into her throat, “are you doing?”
“Testing you,” Maria murmured, “and you, my sweet surgeon, have failed spectacularly.”
Emilia narrowed her eyes at that.
As always, Maria was much too arrogant. She hadn’t even pinned Emilia’s hands yet.
The fight was far from over.
Emilia grasped Maria’s wrist with one hand and with her other arm, she pressed into the bend of Maria’s elbow.
She tried to turn her body away from the knife, but Maria’s thighs restricted the movement of her hips.
So, she turned her head, instead.
Maria must’ve been more concerned with watching Emilia’s reactions than actually putting up a fight—because she didn’t even try to stop Emilia from pushing the knife away.
As a matter of fact, as soon as Emilia twisted Maria’s wrist away from her, Maria dropped the knife.
Emilia reached for it, but Maria grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back down.
When Emilia froze in surprise, Maria pinned Emilia’s wrists above her head, as well.
Maria pressed her thumb and forefinger into Emilia’s throat, and Emilia’s head spun in a way that wasn’t…totally unpleasant.
Maria leaned closer, tilting her face, as if she were going to kiss Emilia again. “Yield,” she whispered.
Emilia pulled at her wrists, but Maria’s grip was steadfast and strong—positively unyielding. Giving up, Emilia pinned her captain with an expectant glare.
When she’d gone a moment too long without breathing, Maria chuckled. “Breathe, love,” she murmured. “I’m not actually choking you.”
“What?” Emilia said, and indeed, breath spilled from her lungs.
Maria pressed down again, and though she could still breathe, Emilia grew lightheaded.
“It’s only a bit of pressure,” Maria whispered, her lips curving, “to make a point.”
Emilia squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to ignore the hollow ache between her legs.
Why did Maria have to straddle her in a bed, of all places?
And this was the second time she’d done it, too!
She had to know what she was doing. She just had to!
“And what point is that?” Emilia asked.
“That if I were trying to kill you,” Maria said, tilting her face closer, “you’d be dead.”
Emilia’s core tightened with desire, as Maria’s rum-scented breath fell against Emilia’s lips. “I’m injured,” she said breathlessly.
Emilia’s body rebelled against every rational thought she’d ever had about Maria.
With Maria’s thighs around her waist and Maria’s mouth only inches from her own, Emilia’s entire being ached for another kiss.
“I know you’re injured,” Maria assured her. “Why do you think I attacked you on the bed, rather than on the floorboards?”
Because you wanted to torture me with these thoughts I shouldn’t be having? Emilia assumed.
Not willing to admit defeat yet, Emilia told the pirate captain, “You had an unfair advantage.”
“Will you be fully healed by midday?” Maria said.
Emilia’s brows furrowed. “No.”
Maria shifted her weight slightly, and her thighs pressed harder against Emilia’s waist. “Then, your attacker will have an unfair advantage, as well,” she explained. “You’ll need to prepare for that.”
Emilia watched, as Maria’s large, brown eyes dilated with lust.
Perhaps she wasn’t the only one struggling with this…position.
“Are you going to let me go?” Emilia asked.
Maria pressed harder against her. “Do you want me to let you go?”
Emilia’s pulse raced at the question. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Say it,” Maria whispered against her lips. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll get off of you now.”
Desire pulsed throughout Emilia’s body, and she just couldn’t bring herself to lie—not while she ached with the desperation she felt now.
So, just like she’d done the day of their sword fight, Emilia gave in to it.
She leaned forward, pushing against Maria’s hand, and then, she pressed her mouth against those soft, warm lips of Maria’s.
With a surprised groan, Maria released Emilia’s throat and sank her fingers into Emilia’s hair, instead.
The taste and scent of Maria surrounded Emilia, drowning out her fears and reservations.
Maria tasted of the sea itself. She tasted of courage and adventure—and of an untapped sweetness beneath.
Maria deepened the kiss, pressing her tongue into Emilia’s mouth. She was as soft as flower petals and as powerful as a deep ocean current.
And Emilia aligned oh-so-easily to her strength, like a drowning sailor caught in the undertow.
Maria’s hips gave a small arch, and she breathed out a deep, sensual moan against Emilia’s mouth.
Emilia’s entire body burned at the sound.
“Fuck,” Maria said, turning her face away. She rested her head against Emilia’s shoulder, panting for breath.
Maria sat up much too soon, and Emilia desperately wanted to pull her back down. “You feel a bit clammy,” the captain said breathlessly. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
