The Pirate's Witch (Blood Prince) by Jennifer Blackstream

Author:Jennifer Blackstream [Blackstream, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skeleton Key Publishing
Published: 2016-10-01T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“How are you feeling?”

Ingrid tensed, her hand halting in the middle of wiping the sweat from her forehead. The light from the myriad of lanterns illuminating the room fought a respectable battle against the darkness of growing night, but she didn’t bother to look to the source of the voice. Instead, she reached blindly into the pocket of her dress.

“Oh, dear gods, you mean you have more?”

Bluebeard’s pained voice finally permeated the fog in Ingrid’s brain enough for her to remember where she was—lying on the pirate captain’s bed—and how she’d gotten there. The bucket the pirate had given her to vomit into still sat on the floor by the bed, but it had been emptied and rinsed clean with seawater. Her dress was damp with sweat and her stomach ached from the effort of expelling every speck of—

She put a hand over her mouth as the thought of what she’d swallowed came back to her, threatening to wring her stomach dry of what little stomach acid she had left.

The pirate captain cleared his throat. “Please, chere, just give me…whatever you have left. Let me throw it overboard where it belongs.” He took a small, cautious step toward her, booted feet barely making a sound. “No one on this ship is going to lay a hand on you. You have my word.”

“And what good is the…word of a…pirate?”

Opening her mouth to speak seemed to give her body ideas of using it to pour out more bodily fluids, so she clamped her lips shut and breathed slowly through her nose. Wet wood and dried seawater assaulted her, reminding her of the slimy mollusk bits still in her pocket. Her stomach lurched and she squeezed her eyes shut so tightly tears leaked out. Bluebeard took a few more careful steps toward her and knelt beside the bed.

An herbal scent, clean and fresh, wafted past her nose. She opened her eyes to see he held a cup in his hand. “Is that mint tea?”

“Yes. Drink some—slowly. It will help you feel better.” He looked down at the bucket then back to her face. “I hope.”

The thought of raising her head made her want to cry. “Where did you get mint tea? I wouldn’t think that’s something you’d have on hand.”

She eased herself into a sitting position, then winced when her head spun and her stomach tried to leap up her throat. Bluebeard set the cup on the floor before moving to the bed and dragging an extra pillow behind her head. She wanted to jerk away from him, but it seemed like too much effort, so she held still, let him help her. When she was propped up enough to drink without drowning herself, he retrieved the tea and put it into her hand.

“True enough, we don’t find much demand for tea on this ship. But after you…” He pressed his lips together and let out a breath through his nose. “Once we dropped anchor I sent one of the men out for the tea.

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