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  Bring Me The Horizon

  A Romancing the Pirate Prequel

  Jennifer Bray-Weber

  Copyright 2014 Jennifer Bray-Weber

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or used in whole or in part by any means without written permission from the author at [email protected].

  All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, with or without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Acknowledgements

  An earnest thank you to my friends and fans for your generous championing, encouragement, and for your love of my pirates. I raise a glass to you.

  A special thank you to Stacey Purcell, Eliza Knight, Rhonda Morrow, Stefanie Meadows and Kim Killion for the invaluable support in this novella’s finishing touches.

  I would be nowhere without the continued love and support from my family. As always, thank you for being by my side every step of the way.

  CHAPTER 1

  1723 Santo Domingo, Hispaniola

  “Are you courageous enough for the undertaking, Captain Banning?” Graciela DuBois had nothing to lose by taunting the pirate. If questioning his prowess would get him to help her, she would not hesitate. Even if it meant putting herself in untold danger.

  And danger lurked in every corner of the dim tavern. She had to swig several stout nips from her flask to work up the nerve to enter La Plata Taza. Every man, from the old, encrusted in years of salt and grime, to the naive young sailormen, feasted upon her. She had straightened her back, sucked in her breath—mostly for the sour stench of sweat, tobacco, and stale beer—and sought out the infamous pirate in the rear of the inn, his back to the wall.

  When he pushed back the brim of his hat as she stood before him, Gracie had frozen. She was so unnerved by his clear, striking eyes. Waves of dark hair flipped and grazed along his wide shoulders. He was devastatingly handsome. Not at all what a pirate should look like.

  Pirates had matted unkempt hair and beards, wild, shifting eyes, pockmarked faces split with a blistered snarl. At least that was what the one pirate she came face to face with had looked like.

  Even so, Gracie couldn’t lose her head over appearances. He was a dangerous man. A man who laid waste in his path, who took what he may, and slaughtered souls should it please him—if gossip were to be believed.

  She had momentarily lost her tongue in front of Captain Banning.

  Until he smiled something lecherous and declared he didn’t have time for a doxy. He was to meet with someone to discuss a commission. But if she wanted to come around after his meeting, well... The captain was none too pleased ‘his meeting’ had been with her, that DuBois had been a ‘wee poppet in need of a belt for her deceit and foolishness,’ as he so arrogantly put it.

  “You are a fetching girl,” the captain said. His gaze languidly sipped upon her chest before slowly, ever-so slowly, lifting to meet her eyes. “And I do like my lasses to be fetching. But you’ve yet to give me good reason to chase down one of my own.”

  “Carrion took my sister and I want to find him. As I have said, I will pay you handsomely.”

  His dark eyebrows pinched and he pursed his lips, lips framed by several days of shadow growing on his face.

  The two men at his table chuckled.

  “Aye, you’ve said that. But this tells me nothing and I am growing impatient. Entertain me with details, lass.”

  “What, pray tell, would Carrion want with your sister that he would steal her away, rather than take where he found her?” The largest of the three men held no discretion in his question. He meant to frighten her. And he was doing a fine job of it. His long coal black hair and shrewd ice blue eyes pierced her soul.

  The blonde man with the deep dimples and crooked smile tipped his head toward her. “Belay, Zane. You’re scaring the poor sweetling. She’s just looking for a little helping hand.”

  “You’re no better than Zane, Tyburn,” Captain Banning said.

  Tyburn shrugged and winked at her. “Name’s Blade Tyburn,” he said. “And this ogre is Captain Zane Fox.”

  “’Tis a pleasure,” she said. Tyburn’s easy smile did not smooth out her mounting fear. Had she made a mistake? No, she hadn’t. She wouldn’t be swayed by their callous ways.

  She had her share of nasty men, thieves, and worse, coming around the cottage she had shared with Sarah. Her older sister had a way of attracting scoundrels with her alluring beauty and mystery. But many came sniffing around for something else—a closely guarded, fabled piece of gold. And since most of the townsfolk refused to do business with witches, it became necessary to barter coin and herbal concoctions for basic supplies with corrupt sailors passing through the port town. Gracie had to learn to hold her own against ruffians. She hadn’t quite perfected the same masterful expression and cautionary quips as her sister but it was enough to keep threats against her at bay. ’Twas all a ruse. ’Twas always safer in Sarah’s shadow. She never had to be the strong woman she pretended to be. Until now.

  Gracie heaved a sigh of frustration. Pirates should be easily sold with riches, but these fellows want to know everything. She supposed that was the difference between street rats and kingly pirates.

  She gestured to the unoccupied seat. “May I?”

  Captain Banning shoved a chair out with his boot. No gentlemen here, but then gentlemen rarely visited Santo Domingo. She sat and began to explain her plight with as little detail as possible.

  “My sister has special,” she paused, unsure how the roguish men would take her next words, “gifts, abilities, if you will, many fear.”

  “Oh?” Captain Banning deliberately blinked, as if fortifying his patience. “And what abilities are these that we should,” he chuckled, “fear?”

  It was her turn to smile. “I never said you should fear her. ’Tis those of ignorance, those without the forethought to see beyond their faith that are afraid. My sister is a healer.”

  “A doctor?”

  “Perhaps, when called upon. More than of body, but, too, the restless mind.”

  “A doctor is not one to be feared,” Tyburn said.

  “Unless...” Captain Fox began thoughtfully.

  Captain Banning leaned across his arm flat on the table. “Unless the healer is a vodun practitioner.”

  A lump lodged in Gracie’s throat. But ’twasn’t his steady, hard gaze that rendered her motionless. Or how very close he was to the truth. Nay, she was mesmerized by his bluish-gray eyes almost devoid of color. Her blooming attraction to him was mystifying.

  “Carrion is a superstitious fool,” Banning said. “He wouldn’t steal away with your sister knowing this.”

  These pirates were more astute than she gave them credit for. She may have made a colossal mistake.

  “He believes she knows where the Bobadilla nugget is hidden.”

  Banning tilted his head, his lips tight. “Impossible. The Bobadilla nugget is at the bottom of the sea in Mona Passage.”

  “Sunk,” Fox added, “on El Dorado almost two centuries ago by a hurricane.” He shook his head before taking a swill of his ale, as if the loss of such treasure was a pity.

  “Try again, lass.” Tyburn’s smirk was far more friendlier than the others. Gracie might be his next meal if she weren’t careful. By the coy smiles of every wench strolling past,
she might quite enjoy being his dish. She dragged her gaze away lest she become ensnared by his courting web.

  “Indeed,” she said. “That is the popular legend. The gluttonous Spanish governor, Francisco de Bobadilla, who stole the nugget from the rightful owners, had been recalled to Spain. Twenty-seven caravels in his flota perished with all on board, including the El Dorado carrying Bobadilla. But the thirty-five pound nugget that went down with him was a fake—switched as it was loaded onto the ship.”

  With an incredulous huff, Captain Banning crossed his arms. “How do you know this? More importantly, why should I believe you?”

  “The man who the nugget belonged to was of my blood. He arranged it so. And it has been safely hidden since.”

  “So says you, lass.” He looked into his empty mug and waved to a serving girl for another pitcher.

  Gracie wouldn’t convince him with truths, alone. Nay, she needed to get to Carrion and was prepared to make the captain take her at all costs. She’d been steeling herself for this and the possible outcomes for days.

  “I know where to find it—the nugget.”

  Captain Banning lowered his arm, the lines on his face steadfast. “As do I,” he said. “On the seabed of the most treacherous Caribbean waters.”

  Gracie dug into the hidden pocket in the folds of her dress.

  “Careful, sweetling,” Tyburn cautioned. “One of us has a pistol trained on you, darlin’. Best not do something foolish.”

  Her spine snapped tight, her gaze darting to each pirate. Not one of them had both hands visible.

  Slowly, she pulled her hand out of her dress and set her fist on the table. She uncurled her fingers revealing a gold lump. It glimmered in the firelight from the wall sconce above the men’s heads.

  Banning’s eyes flicked up. She squirmed under his meticulous scrutiny. Captain Fox scooped up the rock and studied it, turning it over in his large fingers. “’Tis real.” He tossed the gold to Tyburn who nodded in agreement.

  “’Tis but a small piece—”

  “That did not come from the Bobadilla nugget.”

  Panic clenched in her chest. She still had not persuaded Banning. She had to get him, or one of these pirates, to take her to Carrion. No one else would take her to the brutal, vile pirate. No fisherman, sailor, or crook was stupid enough. Carrion’s gruesome reputation was the root of nightmares. And this she knew from her own painful experience.

  Desperation was a sad crazed thing. And it had been wrapping its tendrils around her sanity. She had to convince the captain he must take her. He must.

  “I speak the truth.” Anger seethed at having to defend herself. She did not lie. Not about the nugget, anyway. “Gold is gold, is it not? Does it not weigh heavy in your pockets? Does it not bring you wealth and pleasure?”

  “There are more precious treasures besides gold that bring men like me wealth and pleasure, lass,” Captain Banning said.

  Fox and Tyburn laughed heartily—a testament to the stark truth.

  A suggestive sinful smile scrolled the tips of the captain’s mouth. Her knees knocked. Fortunately, she was sitting. But her angst squeezed tighter. She wasn’t gaining ground. Instead, he seemed to be enjoying a game at her expense.

  ’Twas never this hard bargaining with maggots and miscreants. But then she’d not been this determined before.

  Gracie took a deep breath and looked to her lap, gathering her courage. She was going to need more than she thought possible, having already dug into her depths just to strike a bargain with a band of pirates. Aye, desperation was a sin all its own.

  “Very well, Captain Banning.” She lifted her chin. “If that is what you seek, ’tis yours. We will set sail immediately, then?”

  Captain Fox scowled.

  Tyburn’s dimples disappeared, his smile retreated to one of curiosity.

  Captain Banning narrowed his eyes and leaned over the table. “Do you know what you are proposing?”

  She leaned in, too, still holding on to that shred of courage. “I do.”

  “Nay.” Captain Banning leaned back and threw his elbow over the back of his chair. “I think not. You offer legendary gold and your cun—, your body to a soulless man. You are a foolish chit. Do you know the dangers of sailing upon a ship full of rogues?”

  She could well imagine. “I offer myself to you, not a ship full of rogues.”

  It was just a prig, after all. She need only to lie still, close her eyes, and imagine butterflies flitting through grassy fields, white clouds racing across skies, or her sister’s puppy chasing the chickens. ’Twas what she did when Rodrigo came calling. Rodrigo...a fine disappointment. She’d been smitten by him at one time. He’d stop by the cottage with fish from a good haul, and always with hand-picked flowers. He wooed her with honeyed words right into bed. Sarah had sensed Rodrigo was not who he appeared to be. And she was right. He was married, the bastard. Such a stupid, naive girl.

  Would she find Captain Banning as appalling, with sour breath landing upon her face? Would he be mindless taking his pleasure upon her lifeless body? Why would it matter?

  “Ah, but, lass. Do you not know that prizes are split equally amongst the men? ’Tis what keeps us,” he canted his head upon a smirk, “tenacious.”

  The pit of her stomach soured. But she would not let the captain see weakness. “While true, you would be spoiling the cream.”

  His eyes darkened and she realized all too late the innuendo. “You will not let harm come to me,” she said. Her shaky words stumbled upon one another.

  “Oh?”

  “They say you and your ilk,” she passed a glance to Fox and Tyburn, “are dangerous, but honorable.”

  The captain snorted. “Lies.”

  Gracie didn’t think so. The brethren sacked and pillaged, but only the most greedy and often politically bound suffered complete devastation. Those who gave or did not resist were spared their homes, any valuables they might have, and their livelihoods, when possible. ’Twas as if war was waged against governments rather than the simple folks. She’d heard tale of Captain Banning tossing fistfuls of silver coins to a group of starving beggar boys. Uncharacteristic of a pirate, she’d say.

  But ’twas rumors and a pirate was a pirate.

  Perhaps she needed to approach the matter as she first intended. With a little push on his vanity. “If you are not up to the task, ’tis just as well. The Bobadilla nugget is cursed. It bestows wealth, but demands life. Not your own, instead one close to you.”

  “And now we are cursed?” Captain Banning said dryly, waving his hand over the gold glinting in the middle of the table.

  “Not when the gold is a gift.”

  “A gift cursed by your pagan sister?”

  The insult jarred her. Too often people judged, people feared, people cast slurs and called for imprisonment or death to those they didn’t understand. Sarah had deserved none of that. The hurt in Sarah’s eyes as people slandered her stabbed deep into Gracie’s heart. Until one day, Sarah’s hurt turned into bitter anger and she had sworn she’d accept no more. Gracie sometimes feared what her sister was capable of doing with her herbs and chants, more so after certain mouthy townsfolk became ill.

  “You are partially right, Captain.” Gracie clasped her hands together on the table, gripping harder than necessary. Would they believe the cautionary tale her grandmother repeated time and again over the cooking fire? “The curse was placed by my family, but long ago when Bobadilla stole it. Over time the gold had been chipped and melted. ’Twas only in matters that benefited others. Never out of greed or vanity for fear the curse would ricochet back as it had to our ancestors. My father’s great-grandfather was shot in the head as his brother showed off his fine new silver pistol. The accident sent the brother into such deep grief, he hung himself. My mother didn’t believe in the curse. She had a piece of the gold made into an amulet. As she waited outside the jeweler’s shop for my father to meet her, he was trampled c
rossing the street by a runaway carriage. So despondent by the passing of her husband, she poisoned herself, leaving her two young girls in the care of her elderly mother.” Aye, the curse did not discriminate. No one was safe, not even the family who created it. She shifted in her seat, the mundane action was used to deflect thoughts of her beloved parents.

  “And you are a witch?” He took a sip, staring at her over the rim of his mug.

  “Nay. I am not special.”

  “Special. Interesting choice of words.” His lip curled into another smile, like a flame coiling around a pitch-soaked torch. She suspected he had her fate sealed.

  Gracie stood. “I’ve made a grave error,” she said. “I have wasted your time as you have mine. I will seek out another captain. One without a tendency toward verbal games, and a willingness to bargain.” She looked to each of the men and tipped her head. “Good day, sirs.”

  She plucked the nugget off the table and turned on her heel to take her leave. Her heart thudded against her ribs. Was Captain Banning going to let her walk out the door?

  “You are right, Ms. DuBois,” he said. “You have made a grave error.”

  She stopped and held her breath. Did she fool him into believing she was taking her business elsewhere?

  “You are brazen for coming to me, I’ll grant you that,” Captain Banning said. “But you assume too much.”

  A small huff of disappointment escaped, but she held firm to the rest of her breath. Waiting. She turned her head sideways, not quite looking over her shoulder to him.

  “I will send someone for you at daybreak.”

  Gracie spun around a bit too eagerly. “Thank you, Captain Banning.”

  He chuckled. “You thank me? Nay, lass. If you are lying to me about any of this, I will maroon you on a spit of land. This you can be sure. Heed well, I will take you to Carrion. I will get your sister. And you, Ms. DuBois, you will uphold both ends of the bargain.” A promise of trouble glinted in his eyes, his tongue slowly rolled over his bottom lip. “Starting tomorrow night.”