The Red Siren by Tyndall M. L

Author:Tyndall, M. L. [Tyndall, M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781602605251
Publisher: Barbour Publishing
Published: 2009-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Faith gazed at the dark, gaping holes of at least twenty pistols leveled upon her heart and thought this as good a time as any to make peace with a God she had ignored for years. Mr. Waite grabbed her hand with his free one and tried to pull her behind him.

She did not budge.

Though the chivalrous gesture warmed her, better to die alongside her companions than after they had been pummeled with bullets and dropped to the floor at her feet.

Oh God, if You are there…I know I haven’t spoken to You very much…but please help us—for the captain’s sake. He’s a good man.

From the corner of her eye, Faith spotted a woman in a formfitting purple gown saunter over to Vane. Her brown hair, tied behind her like a man’s, curled down her back. Two brace of pistols were slung across her chest.

“Settle down, Charlie.” She sidled beside him and gave him a sultry grin. “I know this woman.” She winked at Faith. “They mean you no harm. And besides, since when have you ever allowed a navy pig to stir your ire?” She waved a jeweled hand through the air. “Ignore him. He is nothing.”

“Anne.” Faith lowered her pistol and stormed toward the woman she now recognized as Hope’s friend.

“Miss Westcott,” the captain hissed urgently behind her.

Vane’s glazed eyes flickered briefly to Anne then to Faith, before fixing again on Mr. Waite. His pistol wobbled. Grabbing his mug, he gulped down another swig of ale, foam beading on his mustache, and then switched the weapon to his other hand.

“Do you know where Hope is?”

A spark of alarm flitted across Anne’s confident expression. “She did not return home?”

Faith shook her head.

Facing Vane again, Anne placed a hand on his arm holding the gun. “Put the pistol down, Charlie. Pay them no mind. Do we not have better things to do?” she cooed into his ear.

“Gone wit’ ye, woman. Leave me be!” Vane jerked her hand away and gave Mr. Waite a venomous look. “Yer outnumbered, sir. Surrender or die.”

“I plan to do neither, Mr. Bane,” the captain huffed. “But how about this? I will—”

“I said me name was Vane, not Bane!” the pirate interrupted in a spasm of fury. He sent a scathing glance over the room, silencing the few who had dared to laugh.

“Vane, Bane, whatever.” Mr. Waite shrugged. “As I was saying, I will not arrest you on the condition that you tell me where our lady friend is to be found. Agreed?” The muscles in his jaw flexed, but Faith could see no other indication of unease in his staunch demeanor.

“I’ve got me a better idea,” Vane snarled. “I’ll kill ye where ye stand and take the fine lady ye brought wit’ ye fer meself.”

Laughter rumbled through the foul air just as a blast of thunder roared outside.

Raindrops struck the roof, at first sounding like tiny footfalls then growing in intensity until the reverberation of pounding drums filled the whole tavern.

A chill slithered over Faith.

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