Chapter 34 | The Devil of Siren City

CANDY BREATHED NERVOUSLY.

The salty sea sprayed his cheeks as he rode toward the yacht anchored a few miles off Siren City’s shore. With two Centurians at the front of the boat and Brock’s constant presence beside him, Candy thought it was a tad overkill. Why did he need three attendants to meet with one little pirate?

He voiced as much to Aphrodite on the way out the door.

“It could be worse,” she said. “This was Ares’ idea of a compromise.” She narrowed her eyes. “Watch yourself, Candy. And listen closely. Rackham is more than just one little pirate.”

A shiver danced down Candy’s spine at the thought of his name. It’d been nine months since they last saw each other. Nine months since he watched this yacht disappear on the horizon deep in the night. If his heart wasn’t already broken with grief, that sight would have done him in. As it happened, by then he was simply… numb.

He’d lost everything. His father figures. His found family. Now, his lover. The first and most important love of his life.

So much has changed since that night and yet… his heart still felt the same. Broken with grief, more or less, but far less numb.

It pulsed with hope.

He looked into the water, took a breath of it, and offered a prayer to St. Nicholas that his hope wasn’t a mistake.

The boat slowed as they approached, the Centurian expertly navigating them to the back of the yacht. A woman stood there waiting with one hand hovering over a pistol strapped to her outer thigh. She wore black from head-to-toe, accented only by a golden chain hung around her neck. An emerald jewel dangled from the chain, plunging down into the depths of her cleavage.

Giselle. Rackham’s quartermaster.

“Good evening,” she greeted, a warm smile gracing her thick lips. Her dark eyes swept over them, barely touching Brock or the others before landing on Candy. “The Captain is expecting you.”

Candy swallowed hard. Then he stood, found his balance, and got to work. He cracked a smile as he walked onto the yacht, his hand extended toward Giselle. “Ms. Giselle,” he said with a bow. “As always, it’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all his, I’m sure,” she murmured with a voice as deep as the sea.

“Oh, stop pretending you don’t adore me,” Candy teased.

Giselle’s eyes strayed over Candy’s shoulder, finding Brock’s towering form instead. “You’re not my type, little one,” she said. “I prefer a man with more… heft.”

Candy said nothing, letting Giselle plant whatever idea she intended to plant in Brock’s mind.

“Come,” she said. “Best not keep him waiting.”

Candy followed her, feeling Brock’s heft one pace behind him. The others stayed with the boat. They had orders to remain there and observe the crew for anything suspicious. They’ll see nothing, Candy knew. Captain Rackham doesn’t just let anybody on his crew. The ones who were there were loyal — and proved it long ago.

Candy felt their eyes on him as they made their way along the deck. His heart pounded as he searched their faces. On the outside, he had a kind smile. On the inside, he was sobbing.

He’d forgotten how much he missed them.

There was a time when he considered this place a second home. Now, he was a potential enemy. Given the circumstances, he couldn’t blame them for their suspicions against him. He did work for the same people who murdered his previous boss. The Captain’s rival, sure.

Still, it didn’t look good.

Giselle led them through the yacht’s interior, past the upper decks and down the stairs. While the deck showed the usual wear and tear one would expect from a sea vessel, the inside was pristine. Spotless red carpets lined the floors. Spoils of adventure adorned the walls; the Captain’s favorite paintings and trinkets. Priceless, no doubt. The hallway forked in two directions, both extended into the crew’s quarters. Just between the fork ahead stood an elegant door decorated with large wooden carvings.

Candy shuddered.

Giselle marched forward and opened it. “Captain,” she said, walking inside. “Your guest has arrived.”

Candy stepped in, and his breath stopped.

Surrounded by windows on three sides, the Captain’s quarters were built to impress. A table sat in the center with only four chairs, meant for only the most important dinner guests. Tonight, it was set for two with a single pillar candle lighting the space, burnt halfway down.

The rest of the room was well-furnished with seating and discreet bookcases built to withstand even the harshest waves. And, of course, the four-poster bed with silver sheets that instantly sparked memories in the deepest, most sinful places of Candy’s mind.

And the Captain. Oh, the Captain himself stood before the windows, his eyes on the city from afar. He didn’t turn immediately as they entered. He never did.

Seconds passed as Candy looked him over. Tall yet narrow, the Captain defied expectations. When one hears tales of the modern pirate who pillaged the depths of the earth, they picture a much larger man of legend with scars and callouses. Not a blue-eyed man barely in his forties with golden hair wearing a linen shirt half-tucked into his trousers.

It worked to his advantage, however. The underestimated man is a dangerous man, and Captain Raphael Rackham had more skeletons in his closet than anyone Candy had ever known.

And that was saying something.

Rackham turned around. He looked at Candy — only at Candy — as his lips parted with a serene smile. With his arms folded casually behind his back, he walked toward them. “Thank you, Giselle,” he said. “You may go.”

Giselle bowed respectfully and turned, casting her gaze on Brock before gliding out the door. Brock didn’t follow. He perched himself at the door instead, his orders for the night more than clear.

Don’t let Candy out of your sight.

A hurdle, definitely. But for a man like Rackham, it’d prove to be a minor one by the night’s end.

It took everything in Candy not to shudder as he bowed to his patron. “Good evening, my Captain,” he said.

Rackham said nothing. He waited for Candy to rise before stepping forward. Standing nearly a full head over him, he touched Candy’s shoulders and looked him deep in the eye as he said, “Welcome home, pebble.”

Rackham leaned in and kissed Candy’s cheeks. Candy steeled his spine, his knees, his ankles. The touch of the Captain’s lips shocked his system. His smooth cheeks. His strong musk. It threatened to shut him down completely.

But he remained standing.

He had a job to do.

“Yes, Captain,” Candy whispered. “It’s good to be home.”