The Devil's Tide (15 page)

Despite his perpetually foul temperament, Annabelle could not deny that Vane was an extremely handsome man. He had curly, shoulder-length auburn hair, hawk-like green eyes, and a chiseled jaw covered in two days' worth of dark stubble. One eyebrow was always arced higher than the other, and his thin lips were ever in the various stages of a smirk. He wore a forest green coat that matched his eyes, with polished gold buttons, white stockings, and strapped shoes with gold buckles. His voice flowed with gentle ease, at odds with the belligerence that escaped his lips whenever they were moving.

"Hornigold aggrieved me," Teach evenly replied. "I must right that wrong. If I permit him free reign of my ocean after betraying me and siding with Woodes Rogers, I will be looked upon as a weakling unbefitting of the name Blackbeard."

"You might have killed him before he fled," Vane suggested, his green eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"I did not know the loft of his ambition," Teach said.

"And now he's turned pirate once more, yet your wound still festers?"

"What a man does at the end of his life does not right his prior wrongs."

Vane laughed at that. "I know a priest who promises me otherwise. I keep him very close."

"Then Hornigold is truly damned," Teach said. "Either way, I have an image to maintain."

"I care naught for images or nicknames," Vane said, pacing behind Jethro. "Neither fills my holds with plunder."

"Oh, but you're wrong," Teach said. "They fall to their knees at the very sight of me, and gold spills out of their mouths quicker than words."

"Swipe their knees out from under them and they will fall just the same," Vane countered. "You waste too much time with theatrics. When Woodes Rogers finally apprehends you—and apprehend you he will, sooner or later—can you win him over with naught but fancy speech and a smoking beard? Will you tell him, 'nay, you cannot kill me, for I am the mighty Blackbeard'?"

Teach's cheeks folded into a smile above his beard. "Are you so frightened of Rogers? You, who burned a ship in his harbor?"

"
My
harbor," Vane growled.

Teach shook his head. "No longer. We will never take Nassau again, you know that."

"I have three ships now, Edward. I've placed Jack Rackham in command of
Ranger
. For the moment, anyway. Jack is a tad impatient."

Teach cackled. "The day I chance upon a pirate without a ship named
Ranger
, I'll shave my beard. Hornigold took that name as well."

Vane rolled his eyes and persisted. "And I trust you saw my new sloop? Smaller than
Ranger
, but quite fast."

"Yes. Impressive." Teach didn't sound very impressed.

"Sacking Nassau would require but a small fleet with two great captains at the helm of two great flagships."

"Aye," Teach replied. He lifted a goblet of wine, eyes narrowing as he peered into the glass. "I glimpse one such man before me. Let me know when you spot the other, for he be hidden from my sight."

Vane's smirk faltered only slightly. "It's good to know insanity hasn't robbed you of your sense of humor, Teach. I will sob myself to sleep when I learn of your demise."

Jethro's eyes flashed apprehensively from one man to the next. "Gentlemen," he rasped, lifting diplomatic hands. "The issue at hand eludes us." The word 'eludes' was nearly a whisper as Jethro's strained vocals broke on it.

"The fuck it does," Vane said, flinging his hands. "Benjamin Hornigold is no issue. If I should chance upon him, I would not waste the time it would take to feed him to the sharks. He presents no obstacle. He is but Rogers' dog, and a tiny one at that. The kind that nips at your heels. He strained his chain and found it easily snapped, and now he skitters across the Caribbean, chasing after a bit of shine. We have greater concerns."

Teach sat back in his chair, taking a long deep breath. "You bring me this man," he pointed at Jethro, "under false pretense, claiming to have knowledge of the bane of my existence."

Vane gave a lavish roll of his eyes. "I present two options, Teach, yet you remain stubbornly aware only of the lesser."

"No lie, sir," Jethro insisted. "I know where Benjamin Hornigold is, I do."

"My redundant friend speaks truth," Vane sighed. "I thought presenting him might afford me the opportunity to persuade you against foolery. Divided we are vulnerable, while our enemies converge as an army, gathering our own ranks against us. Together we would be an impenetrable spear, plunging through them to strike at their heart. The sight of our combined ships bearing down on Nassau would be a tale for the ages."

Teach was unmoved. "I have given the ages many sights without your aid, Vane."

Vane shook his head in dismay. "It seems I waste my time here. Oh well. At the very least, I will be compensated for bringing you Hornigold's whereabouts."

Teach fixed Vane with a dangerous glare.

"I
will
be compensated for the information," the handsome captain insisted, meeting Teach's gaze. "You crave Benjamin Hornigold more than sense, and I have all but dropped him in your lap. I expect payment. Should I vanish mysteriously within the next hour, my quartermaster will instruct the crew to unleash hell upon you. True, we're no match for the mighty
Queen Anne's Revenge
, but we'd leave a few scars you wouldn't soon forget."

"So distrusting," Teach sighed.

Vane raised a finger. "And still alive, I might add."

Teach set his palms flat on the desk. "You will be compensated. Speak to my cooper on your way out."

"The skinny shit, lame of leg?"

"Nay, that be Narrow Ned, the boatswain. The cooper is Hemett. Squat and ugly fellow with a red sash."

"That's helpful," Vane quipped with a smirk more mischievous than usual. "Now I know to look for any man on this ship who isn't me."

Jethro sniggered.

Vane turned momentarily serious. "I trust your cooper knows the value of my information?"

Teach rolled his eyes. He plucked a quill from a jar of ink and scribbled a number across a parchment. He handed the parchment to Vane. "I seem to have misplaced my seal, but if he gives you any trouble, have him speak to me."

Vane quickly scanned the parchment and tried not to look impressed. He casually flicked his head back, tossing a loose auburn curl out of his face. "Not quite the ass-fucking I had expected."

"That can be arranged, if such things be of interest," Teach drawled. "A few of my men have questionable proclivities."

Vane's lip curled in distaste. "Seems every ship has a few of those. I pretend not to notice."

Teach looked weary of conversation. "Don't let me keep you."

"No more smalltalk?" Vane made a sad face.

"Not everyone relishes the sound of your voice as much as you, Charles."

Vane inclined his head. "Very well, then. Give my regards to Queen Anne, when you see her. I hear her tits were as great as coconuts, and her juices twice as supple. No doubt she spends her afterlife impatiently awaiting your arrival, legs spread and thighs dripping." He adopted a regal, feminine voice. "'Oh, my dear Edward, how can I ever repay you for murdering all those innocent people in my good name? Come, rest that bushy beard of yours betwixt my thighs, but do extinguish those fuses first! I'll not have all that smoke filling my royal cunt! It's crowded enough in there as it is.'"

If Teach was amused, it didn't show behind his beard. "Goodbye, Charles."

Vane managed to frown and smirk at the same time. "I stand corrected. Insanity has stolen your humor. And I had rehearsed that bit for days." He turned to Jethro. "And you, Jethro, have exhausted your usefulness on this little stint. Should you find yourself in a cell again, do not expect me to come to your aid."

Jethro nodded. "I'm grateful you did as much as you did."

"Oh, fuck off. You'll piss the favor away as you have every other." Vane favored Annabelle with a bow before leaving, not bothering to close the door behind him.

An awkward silence followed. Jethro broke it. "Gonna miss his company, I will."

"Dishonorable wretch of a man," Teach sneered. "Does he still cheat his crew out of their fair portion?"

"They've come to expect no better. He tortured the carpenter's boy just last week. Suspected him o' stealing a silver."

"Despite my affinity for torture," Teach said, "it be a thing best not turned on one's own crew. They'll have his head someday."

"I'm not so sure," Jethro sighed. "Fear him, they do. And even a stunted share o' Vane's fortune is greater than a fair share on most ships."

Teach finished his wine and dabbed his beard with a handkerchief. "Enough about Vane. My thoughts fall to Hornigold, as often they do of late. A malady soon to be remedied, thanks be to present company." Teach stood and poured Jethro a goblet of wine, handing it to him. "Tell me, how did you happen upon this information?"

Jethro sipped at his wine. His brow creased slightly. Annabelle suspected he didn't care for the vintage. He set the goblet down. "During my . . . holiday . . . in Nassau, I met a man destined for the gallows. Went by name o' Henry, he did. Served with Griffith on
Harbinger
."

Annabelle had only been half-listening, but the name
Harbinger
jarred her attention. A chill coursed her spine as she recalled Edward Livingston's sadistic face.

"He was very talkative, he was, 'specially after his companion agreed to help Woodes Rogers track Benjamin Hornigold and Katherine Lindsay."

"Lindsay?" Teach thought for a moment as he sank into his chair. "The woman with the lofty reward on her head?"

"The very same," Jethro wheezed. "She and Hornigold went after some treasure Griffith supposedly stashed away on an unmapped island before his untimely death, God rest him. Henry's cellmate bought his life by agreeing to lead Guy Dillahunt to the island and capture Hornigold. Henry didn't take kindly to being left behind, and spilled everything to me before they carried him off to his death. I have the island's latitude put to memory, I do."

Teach was grinning. "Dillahunt. That man does not quit once set upon a task. Hornigold's chances slim by the minute."

"Aye," Jethro agreed. "Rogers did not leave anything to chance. It's possible Dillahunt has already apprehended Hornigold."

"Then we must apprehend Dillahunt."

Jethro nearly spit out his wine. "Apart from the man that just left this room, there's only one other you do not want to engage in combat with, and that's Guy Dillahunt."

Teach smiled. "Dillahunt's ship will sink as easily as any other. The trick be to weaken the beast from the inside before I ever fire a shot. Weasels work beneath Dillahunt's very feet. I employ as many weasels as Vane, if not more. You should know the value of weasels better than anyone, seeing how easily you escaped your cell."

"I see your point," Jethro conceded. "But the trouble with weasels is notifying them when it comes time to strike. Easy to free a man from a cell. Not so easy to notify a man at sea. You would have to get close to
Crusader
, and her guns would do far too much damage."

"A solution has yet to present itself," Teach admitted, "but that does not mean there isn't one. Who was your informant's cellmate?"

"A one-armed boy named Adams. Nathan Adams. Stubborn lad, that one."

Annabelle sat up in the bed, not bothering to secure her robe as it slipped away again. "What did you just say?"

Both men stared at her. "I said he's stubborn," Jethro replied, his eyes drifting downward.

"No, that's not . . . what did you say his name was?"

"Nathan Adams. You're familiar with the lad?"

"I was very familiar with him," she said without thinking. Then she glanced sheepishly at Teach. He gazed apathetically at her, and she immediately felt stupid for thinking he would care.

"Small world," Jethro said, eyes fixated on her breasts.

"Too small," she said, covering herself.

Something changed in Teach's gaze. Apathy gave to a curious sparkle. "How long did you know him?"

"We spent a month together."

The candlelight glinted in his pupils. "The boy fancied you?"

"He seemed to, for a time. I was his first woman. He said very sweet things and bought me equally sweet baubles. He demanded that I take no other man to bed while I was with him, and he paid handsomely to ensure his terms were met. Then he returned to sea, but not before . . . " she trailed off, not wanting to utter the name of the man who had raped and maimed her.

Teach leaned toward Jethro, and Jethro leaned forward with hyperbolic attentiveness. "Stunted romances often prove the most potent," Teach mused. "It's only when lust be afforded the time to gestate that love falters. A romance cut short, now that be a frustrating thing. The mind lingers on what it cannot have, God knows I know."

"Aye," Jethro said, nodding his head with a flaring grin, as though Teach had just imparted the meaning of the universe.

"I haven't thought of him in some time," Annabelle protested. It was true. The memory of Nathan went hand-in-hand with that of Edward Livingston, as one had followed immediately after the other. She could not banish one memory without banishing the next.

"Nay, I suspect you haven't," Teach said. "The boy, on the other hand, may not share your ambivalence."

"It was many months past," she said with a dismissive snort. "He's had many whores by now, no doubt."

"There are few whores that look like you, my dear," Teach reminded her.

Jethro's eyes widened as a thought struck him. "Indeed not," he said. "Forgive me, but what was your name, girl? I know you told me already, but so many years o' sun beating upon my skull have not been kind to my memory."

"I hope your mind does not falter in recalling Hornigold's location," Teach bristled.

"I was being modest on account of sparing the lady's feelings," Jethro said, gesturing wildly at Annabelle and toppling his goblet. Wine rolled over the desk toward Teach, soiling maps and colliding with The Iliad. Teach frantically snatched up the book, gave it a fierce shake, and rubbed it against his coat. He glanced crossly at Jethro, frowning through his beard.