When Whitley winds up on the top of a pirate hit-list thanks to her con-artist father, she must hide her identity and board another pirate ship, trusting in one shape-shifting pirate named Bluff to help her escape. Too bad you can never, ever, trust...
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Bluff
A chilly wind tickles at my neck making me shiver.
The breeze should be growing colder as we travel further north, but not in an instant. I know right away it's not a natural shift. This is more.
I grit my teeth and press my eyes shut, forcing out all the anxious thoughts that push forward. I don't want to see them, ever again. Especially not now, with her on board.
And yet, I knew it was an inevitability.
I suck in a long breath, preparing for the coming nightmare.
Rosemera's sharp voice sounds through the ship. I'm surprised and thankful, she was able to catch the signs so quickly. I should have been the one to warn the crew. Today, I was distracted.
Every pirate pauses at her words, "COVER THOSE EARS". I can feel their terror—and excitement—as it twists through every male aboard.
As they bust into action, preparing for the only type of deadly supernatural being a pirate is ever eager to meet, I slowly turn to find Whitely.
She meets my gaze. Caution crosses her expression but every muscle in her body is relaxed. There are no stress lines on her face, no fear. Does she not know what she faces?
The depth and wonder in her eyes tells me she knows much more than she should.
My stomach twists, and I tell myself it's anxiety for the coming monster but really it's a completely foreign feeling.
The vibration under my feet escalates and the ship slows, despite the wind that blows furiously through the sails. I swallow, then walk slowly to the bow to meet my unwanted fate.
A gust hits me in the face, blowing my hair back and making my eyes water. I stare out at the sea before me, and slowly a form materializes. She's tall and thin, with green iridescent skin and bright silver hair. She stares at me with her grey eyes, and spreads her lips into an inhuman smile exposing her nail sharp teeth just inches from my face.
The siren hisses. A noise so high pitched and sharp it even makes me wince. The men behind me fall to their knees, feeling the magic, fighting the pull. But on their faces isn't the agony that should be there-- it's bliss.
My face remains blank, much less excited about our meeting than she is.
"We meet again, my boy," she says in a slithering voice.
