Forever Yours Page 2
Entranced, he stopped a few feet from the girl as she sat beneath an apple tree. The apple blossoms surrounded her like a mystical white cloud. Sam's heart jumped at the sight of the blonde-haired beauty. Forgetting all about his cousin, Sam introduced himself to the young Maria Hallet.
* * * *
April 26, 1717—Cape Cod
It had been two years since Vincent had seen New England and Rachel. He had thrown his lot in with his cousin Sam, and after a week of marriage, Vincent and Sam were on their way to find treasure in the waters of the Caribbean. They had also brought along Paulsgrave Williams, a forty-year-old goldsmith from Newport who was going to back them on their journey.
Unfortunately, Sam and Vincent were unable to find any treasure, and by unanimous vote, Sam's entire crew decided to go on account. It would be sweet revenge to commandeer the merchant vessels sailing around Florida as most of the crew had been savagely treated on one or more of those ships.
Vincent remembered the skull and cross bones on the flag Sam had raised that fateful day. Sam had told the crew that the flag represented resurrection, not death. He vowed that never again would they be slaves of wealthy men. They were now free men.
Sam had become known as Black Sam Bellamy, the Pirate Prince. He offered his victims a choice of joining his crew or marooning. When he captured a slave ship, The Whydah, Sam gave his own ship to The Whydah's former captain that he may return home. Then, Black Sam made the decision to sail home to his love, Maria Hallet.
* * * *
Vincent was now aboard The Isabelle, listening to the screams of men dying in the distance. It was too foggy to see, but Vincent knew in the pit of his stomach that The Whydah was dying. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life.
After The Whydah sank, Vincent turned from his painful watch and faced Captain Montgomery. He was the captain of The Isabelle before Sam had captured her.
Vincent recalled the last words he ever heard from his cousin. Sam had promised Captain Montgomery the return of The Isabelle if he would help navigate them all through the treacherous waters. Sam had trusted the wrong captive. Vincent wouldn't be so princely.
Rain pummeled him as he closed the distance between himself and Captain Montgomery. Towering over the cowering man, Vincent grabbed him by his collar and pulled him up on his tiptoes. Rage and grief ate Vincent alive. Montgomery was the perfect man to vent his rage on.
"Ye dog! Sam trusted the likes o’ ye,” Vincent growled. “But ye can be damn sure I won't."
Vincent's pistol hung from a silk ribbon around his neck. Not bothering to remove it, Vincent raised the pistol and shot the devious captain in the center of his forehead. The man fell lifeless to the deck with a look of surprise on his face. Pistol held out in front of him, Vincent looked around the deck, defying anyone to cross him. Not a soul had any intention of such an act. In fact, the crew cheerfully picked up the dead captain and threw him overboard for the sharks.
The rain was so heavy Vincent could not see the shoreline. He looked in its direction, thinking of Maria Hallet, Sam's lover. He wondered what had become of her. Did she still wait for Sam?
Shaking his head sadly, Vincent realized she would have a long wait. Poor Black Sam Bellamy lay at the bottom of the ocean, never to return. Vincent was certain that no one had survived the ship's death.
Vincent sighed as his thoughts turned to his own poorly arranged marriage. One year after he had left, he had received word from his father that Rachel had died in childbirth. The baby boy followed soon after. He felt responsible for Rachel's death and wished for the millionth time he had never taken her to the barn.
His heart, aching for his cousin, comrades, and poor Rachel, Vincent walked dejectedly toward Noland, the quartermaster. “Turn this ship around and get us out of here,” Vincent growled.
"Aye, aye, cap'n."
Vincent looked at Noland with surprise, and before he could utter a word, Noland turned to the crew and nominated Vincent as their captain. The vote was unanimous.
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Three
1718—West Indies
The jungle was alive with nocturnal predators. Katherine was in the process of feeding. The small monkey had come to her call quite easily. She was careful to take just enough blood from the little one to sustain her. When finished, she raised her head and looked skyward, luxuriating in the rush of blood, feeling it surge through her veins.
The sound of reckless revelry reached her ears. Carefully, she set the monkey on a high tree limb where it would not be easy prey while it recovered. Then she followed the sound of humans.
Hiding behind a tree, Katherine watched the men on the beach. Their bellies were filled with barbequed turtle, and the fires burned low. Their revelry had caught up with them, and the buccaneers were scattered on the beach, succumbing to the pull of sleep.
Cloaking herself in darkness, Katherine ventured around the sleeping men. They were a rough lot, and if she had been mortal, she would have fled the spot instantly. As it were, curiosity had gotten the best of her, and she leisurely inspected the unsuspecting buccaneers.
The sound of an angry voice startled Katherine. She whirled in its direction. Several good yards away stood a man with raven-colored hair. He was chastising a sleepy pirate who was to have been on watch. The man sent the pirate towards Katherine and the fire. Then he took up the watch himself.
Unable to resist, Katherine moved in close to study him. His shoulder-length hair was pulled back at his neck with a ribbon. From where she stood, all she could see was his profile. His arms were crossed, and he leaned against a coconut tree. He mumbled curse after curse until at last his temper cooled.
Still cloaked by darkness, Katherine moved in front of him and gasped in alarm. He was the spitting image of her mortal husband.
Could it possibly be him? Her heart pounded with sudden anxiety.
Knowing there was only one way to find out, she stepped up close to the pirate and gently touched his forehead with her fingertips. He was completely unaware of her as she probed his mind.
The answer lay in a locked room of his mind where past life memories were stored. Sometimes these memories seeped through the door, and the person remembered. Most of the time, however, the memories remained dormant.
A sob in her throat, Katherine stepped away from him. Her hand clutched the cross that hung about her neck. It was him. It was Vincent, her reincarnated soul mate. Tears of blood coursed down her face, and she hurried away from him, fearful he would see her. How ironic. She had searched and searched for him, but now that he was right in front of her, she could not face him. She felt responsible for everything that had befallen them. If only she hadn't met Beaux, the vampire that sired her, things would have been different.
Confusion whirling in her head, Katherine ran into the jungle, putting as much distance as possible between herself and temptation.
* * * *
Nervously, Katherine twisted her hair around her finger. It was dusk, and the pirates were still on the beach. She longed to go to Vincent and unlock that door in his mind, but then it was possible that all of the memories would come back. She wasn't ready to face his last memory of her.
From her hiding place amid the treetops, she had a perfect view of the entire beach and ocean. She focused on Vincent, and her heart flip-flopped at his handsomeness. He had a tattoo on his left arm of a mermaid that looked somewhat like herself.
Her heart warmed as she watched him laughing. The sound of it snuggled against her with a clarified familiarity. Vincent had always loved to laugh, and it was a treasure just to hear it again.
The pirates were cooking. This time they had wild game from the jungle. Katherine watched Vincent eat. Juices ran down his chin, but he didn't bother to wipe them away. Reading his thoughts, she knew that he planned on taking a dip in a lagoon he had found earlier that day. It wasn't too far from the beach, and he needed time alone.
* * * *
Feel
ing more like a wood sprite than the huntress she truly was, Katherine spied on Vincent as he swam in the lagoon. The area was bathed in moonlight, and the sight of his bare shoulders and neck sent a shiver of desire through her.
The lagoon was salty, as the water came in from the sea through a shallow stream. Only small fish could travel to the pond, so Vincent was in no danger from sharks. However, there were snakes, but Katherine's presence sent them scurrying away. They were looking for prey, not trying to become one.
Vincent played in the water, completely at ease. He was waist deep and squished mud between his toes. Scooping water in his mouth, he swished it around before spitting it out in a stream. Then he dove in and swam from one side to the other about fifty times before climbing out.
Her face flaming red, Katherine turned her head at the sight of his nakedness. His muscular image, however, stayed in her mind. Unable to resist, she looked again.
An old familiar flame lit inside her. It seemed Vincent was the same in body as well as spirit. She noticed the heart shaped birthmark on his derriere and recalled that he had the same mark in his past life.
Vincent stooped to put his pants back on. When he stood up, it seemed he looked straight at her. Katherine gasped and pulled back into the dark.
Vincent squinted, positive that he had seen something. “Who's there?” he bellowed as he reached for his pistol.
Katherine sank further away, still not ready to face her sin. After a few minutes, Vincent shrugged and sat against a tree. He pulled out a cheroot from his pocket and drew it under his nose, savoring the cigar's sweet smell. Then he lit it, and little smoke clouds rose around him.
Katherine wrinkled her nose. Old habits also came along with the spirit. She never could stand Vincent's obsession with cigars. Personally, she found them dreadful.
After his relaxing smoke, Vincent thumped the remains of the cigar into the lagoon. Then he stretched out his legs and rested his head against the tree. He closed his eyes, and loud snores soon issued from his sleeping mouth.
* * * *
Vincent knew it was a dream, but it felt real. He was still at the lagoon, but in the middle of the pond was his blonde-haired mermaid. He'd dreamt of her before but not like this.
In past dreams, she had called to him from far away. Oft times, he would see her in the sea when he was on the deck of his ship. He felt he knew her but couldn't fathom from where.
In this current dream, Vincent stood and walked to the water's edge. With beguiling eyes, the brown-eyed mermaid watched him. She raised her hand, beckoning him. Without hesitation, Vincent dove into the water and was soon by her side.
Now that he was afforded a closer look, Vincent stared at her delicate face, mesmerized. Shaking slightly, he raised his hand to touch her smooth pale cheek, half expecting her to bolt. When she didn't, he relaxed.
The mermaid closed her eyes and lovingly nuzzled her cheek against his palm. Vincent leaned close to her as the urge to taste her rosebud lips was too tempting to be ignored. Soft and warm, her lips yielded to his exquisite assault. She pressed against Vincent's body, and his arms slipped around her waist.
Reluctantly, she pulled out of his embrace. The look on her face was filled with such sorrow that Vincent wanted to kill whomever had placed it there. He reached to pull her back, but with her tail, she put space between them within a matter of seconds. Tears fell from her eyes, and she clutched at a cross necklace around her throat.
"No hope for forgiveness,” she whispered, choking on the words. Then, before he could stop her, she dove into the water and disappeared from sight. He waited for her to come back up, but after several minutes, it was obvious that she had somehow escaped the lagoon.
Vincent slapped the water in aggravation, only to find his palm hit dirt instead of water. He was awake, and the sun beat down on the lagoon with fierce intensity. He jumped to his feet, realizing that his crew must be up in arms over his disappearance.
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Four
Katherine pulled her cloak of shadows close to her as she stood next to Vincent, who was unaware of her presence. His hands clung to the wheel of his ship as he fought Mother Nature's fury. He was determined to keep them afloat, but she smelled his fear. The hunger rose, and she forced it away. Her presence must remain hidden, and she hadn't the power to cloak herself and feed at the same time.
The ship suddenly pitched to the left, and she used her powers to keep from sliding off the slippery deck. Vincent's muscles bulged as he held on. Rain pelted them from all sides, and the wind was even less merciful. A loud rip filled the air as the jib sail tore.
She knew the ship was doomed. The main and fore topsails had already been destroyed and had taken ten men with them. Vincent was desperately trying not to loose anymore, but Mother Nature was beating them to death.
He stood alone on deck, having sent all below. Her heart went out to his losing battle. Then her stomach dropped as they crested the top of a twenty-foot wave. The ship hung on it for a second before plunging straight down. The men below-deck screamed in terror. Vincent hung desperately to the ship's wheel. At the bottom of the wave, Katherine looked up into the next thirty-foot wave. She knew they'd never make it to the top, but she couldn't let her shields down. She could not make her presence known to him. So she waited, battling her own fear that she'd lose him again.
The Isabelle tried her best to ride the immense wave, but it wasn't enough. The bowsprit plunged into the wave and immediately broke in half. As the ocean fell on top of them, Katherine threw herself at Vincent and clung to him as the water swept them overboard.
She heard the hull as it split open like a watermelon. Water spewed into the hold faster than the men could escape, and Katherine heard them all as they breathed in water. She felt bad that they couldn't even scream away their terror as death claimed them.
Fortunately, Vincent had lost consciousness, so she didn't have to fight his surprise at her presence. Holding tightly to him, she swam to the surface. Her power could not diminish the storm, but she created her own protective wind within the storm. She moved as one with it until it crossed over a small island.
Luckily, a cave half-filled with ocean water appeared before them. She hurried into it just as a thirty-foot wave crashed over them. Water filled the dark cave, but the ceiling was high. She managed to get Vincent onto the high ledge. The water came close but did not crest it. Weary from battling the elements, she climbed on top of him and succumbed to the arms of sleep.
* * * *
When Katherine woke, the storm had passed. She looked at Vincent, noticing the cut on his forehead. She licked the wound as clean as possible, feeling the fire that raged through his body. As long as he ran a fever, there was nothing she could do but watch over him.
The water in the cave had receded, and Katherine moved Vincent to a lower ledge. It had more room, which was good because Vincent had begun to toss and turn in his feverish sleep.
She stood in the water and watched over him. His face was flushed with the fever, and she felt at a complete loss as to how to help him. She tore off a piece of his shirt and used it as a water rag to cool his brow. His lips were cracked, and he licked them often.
She turned to go seek fresh water for him, but his hand reached out and firmly grabbed her arm. Startled, Katherine looked back. His blue eyes were glazed with sickness.
"Yer name,” he croaked. “I will have yer name, my sea-sprite."
Katherine wrenched her arm free. She hadn't expected him to wake so soon. She moved back from him, waiting for him to lunge at her. Instead, his eyes rolled back in his head as the fever got the best of him. Her heart beating frantically, she let out the breath she'd been holding. After quickly assuring herself that he still lived, she fled the cave in search of fresh water and food.
* * * *
The time was close when Vincent would wake. His fever had passed, and he was now sleeping deeply. Katherine stood over him, debating what she shoul
d do. Nervously, her fingers twisted a lock of her blonde-hair.
She had no desire to leave him, but the past left her no choice. She did not know if she could ever face his judgment. As the sun would soon set, she felt certain that Vincent would wake before the next moon's rising. She could not risk exposure. So it was imperative she take her leave this eve.
Placing a gentle kiss on his now-cool brow, Katherine whispered, “My love always."
She then slipped quietly from the cave. She would remain close but hidden from his sight.
* * * *
While he had marooned others for disobeying ship laws, Vincent himself had never suffered that fate ... until now. He stood on the beach, stripped down to his breeches. It was unbearably hot, and the wind was too calm. The waves barely made a sound as they rolled upon the white sand.
Hands on his hips, he squinted as he searched the horizon for any sign of a ship. He would be very fortunate indeed if he were saved. He knew better than to be hopeful. After all, miracles were rare.
The hurricane that had sunk his ship had also ravaged the island. Only a small bit of jungle remained untouched. Fortunately, there were still coconuts on some of the trees. Vincent had gathered what he could and stored them in the coolness of the cave. He would drink the coconut milk and feast on the coconut meat, and as he had learned to spearfish years ago, he would add fresh fish to his limited diet. Ruefully, he noted that those he had marooned had also been left with a good bit of supplies, unlike himself.
Sighing, Vincent turned away from his fruitless hunt for ships. It had been days since he had awakened from his feverish sleep, and yet the vague feeling of being watched over never left him.
He sat down at the water's edge, letting the waves roll over his legs. He'd give anything for a single puff of one of his sweet cigars. Unfortunately, they were at the bottom of the ocean with his ship.
The sun was at his back, hidden by the jungle. He was careful to stay in the cave during the hottest part of the day. Most nights, he slept on the beach. Tonight would be no exception.