The Collector |Sequel to Collector of Odd|

X |Creature|

There's a creature rumbling within.

           The flames burned bright, the seething heat a gentle reminder to Mirela the bite fire carried. She was watching the cook and his boat burn, her hazel orbs gleaming at the show of death. Her fingers on her left hand subconsciously came up to pull at her dirtied collar, pulling the fabric away slightly to reveal that section of raised skin at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Sea colored eyes locked on that strip of raised skin, brows creased as Blackbeard swallowed his unease. What type of a woman, hell- a man even, would willingly play with fire? Get scorched from hell fire to win a battle of deceit. His tongue ran across his cracked lips, the unease climbing up his throat once again. Mirela wasn't a gypsy, she was a siren. 

          A tight exhale from the man to Mirela's left had her orbs shifting over Blackbeard and eyeing the blonde haired bible holding being. A man of faith, of religion. He would die out here if he didn't start putting his faith in himself, in the sins that would be needed to survive on the sea. Cocking her head slightly she eyed the tense posture and silent movements of his lips. Phil? Philip? Whatever his name was, was praying. The laugh that bubbled out of Mirela's throat was mocking. Several pairs of eyes locked on the tan skinned woman. 

          "He's dead Phil, your God can't save him now." The bite that carried her words to the man had his brow creasing his, mossy green eyes calculating the strange woman. She put him on edge, not because of her words, but because of the look in her eyes. It was a cold look, a scheming gaze that told him she was only doing what was best for herself. She cared not for what happened to those in her way. 

          "It's never too late." Philips words were soft, but the raw belief behind his words had the gypsy curling her lips at him in a snarl.  His next words were directed toward Blackbeard a clear dismissal of Mirela if she had ever seen one. Her blood boiled at the disrespect. 

"Please, there is still hope..." 

          Blackbeard eyed the siren and the man of faith, his body though fraying relaxation was a coiled mess. He knew that look in Mirela's eyes, those stormy sand colored irises were raging. A mixture of grays and hints of tans that sparked in the reflection of the Greek flames. Thus Blackbeard took the next step into Mirela's game. His left arm stretched out, his fingers digging into her opposite hip and pulling the slender woman into his side. Her body was harder than he remembered, muscles laying in wait just beneath her skin. She had been supple and soft to the touch during their last encounter, a body willing to comply to a lovers touch. Now, Blackbeard had a feeling she would be the one making those mold to her will. 

          Her lips curled slightly, her right arm coiling around Blackbeard's neck so her fingers could play with the sensitive skin there. She eyed him out of the corner of her eyes, the silent action had told Mirela all she needed. He was willing to comply, willing to back her as long as they were on the same side. Whether it was believable or not Edward and Mirela had once enjoyed the others company and then some. Two lost souls looking out only for themselves. A dangerous combination, a toxic pairing that had led to many tragedies.

          "Your Maker has no power over these waters, Calypso rules this domain." Mirela's words drew Philips attention back to her, his features contorting into a look of unease. 

          "AGAIN." Her sharp bark, an order to Blackbeard's crew, his ship. Greek fire was released once again, the cry of anguish that left Philips mouth had her lips curling into a self satisfied smirk. Chaos, pure and utter chaos. 

           Captain Jack Sparrow stood toward the front of the ship, his face grim as he watched the flames. One thing Sparrow would admit was that Blackbeard was dangerous, the power he had to command his ship more so than the man himself. Quickly, Jack turned to face Blackbeard and Mirela, his eyes wide in shock at the actions that had just taken place. Blackbeard hadn't made that order. Realization hit the ship less Captain like a slap from a lass in Tortuga. Mirela had ordered that second round of fire, her voice had been sharp like a sword, yet the sickly tone that had gentle carried its way to Jacks ears had the Captain gulping. Jack had seen many things in his life time, had experienced several hellish times, too many to count in fact. He knew that wispy tone though, a raspy velvet like tune that couldn't be mistaken. 

          For a brief moment, Jack was concerned for his gypsy. The year and some odd months they had been apart Jack and never once been concerned. Worried for the spit fire of a woman he had grown attached to. She could handle herself, if she couldn't talk her way out of something the lass was a force to be reckoned with when it came to a blade. Now though, Jack needed to figure out what had transpired in their time away from one another. The scars, the silver teeth, those didn't concern him as much as the deep seeded bitterness that she carried with her. 

          Warm brown eyes met hazel. Jack searched those orbs, those familiar stormy irises for any clue on what had happened. If anything he only was given more questions to find an answer too. Mirela's eyes didn't reveal anything to him, just a cold indifference, such a glazed look that the curious man wondered if she was actually seeing him. Her eyelashes fluttered, kissing her dark cheeks and clearing up that glazed look. Waves rolled, the sandy world of her orbs resided. Her pupils shifted, a quick glance to the shadows down into the ship, Jack raised one dark brow at the woman across the ship from him. Apparently she was seeing him just fine. The pointed look he got when he made no move to follow her silent order had his teeth flashing in a playful smile. 

          Whatever had happened, whatever would happen. Captain Jack Sparrow knew everything would be just fine. His gypsy would always come back to him.