Breathing heavily, I looked down at the body beneath me, the gory blade still clutched tightly in my fingers. Red liquid dripped from my knuckles, softly splattering on its host’s unmoving form. Vaguely, I was aware of more people joining us, shouts falling on my deaf ears. All I could see or hear was the blood, the very thing that had burned so hot in myself, now shed by the man before me.

Life is the greatest gift we have. Do not take it unnecessarily.

Grey One’s words echoed in my mind. Was Sam right? She hadn’t sounded like she blamed me, but there was a condemnation to her words that stung. Had I taken a life just because I could, or had it been truly necessary? Would Legion have left after only being roughed up? Now I would never know.

I thought I was protecting her, but going over the fight in my mind, it was easy to see that wasn’t true; I’d let the blood lust overtake me. Hadn’t the same sense been in Legion’s eye as well, though? If I hadn’t have killed him, surely it would be me bleeding out on the floor right now.

The noises around me seemed to pop and fizzle back into existence as I blinked, glancing up from the corpse. The brown walls faded into nothing as I stared at the group of men who had shoved their way through the door, more that I couldn’t see still shouting for details from outside. Some of them wore expressions of shock and boredom, others rage. Eyes were either trained on me, or the not-so-dearly departed lying on the planks beneath me.

“What have you done?” It was the dead man’s cousin, his stump of a finger still crudely bandaged up and wrapped around his drawn knife. Face contorted into a mix of anger and grief, his dirt streaked form glared up at me, inches from his relative. A pang of guilt washed over me, but I stood my ground.

This was no time for apologies.

Those who had found Legion a friend or ally were obviously readying themselves to fight for him, swords being drawn as they stepped forward, growls resonating in their throats. Defensively, I held my blade out, refusing to move even an inch and show them the terror they wanted from me.

“What’s going on down here?” Captain Randall’s voice boomed over the crowd, his form shoving through the throng. The men fell silent and darted to either side to make way; he was the only person we all truly feared. When he reached the front, he paused, taking in the scene. His gaze traveled over his captive once, slowly, before moving on to me. He then glared at the floor, lips pursed, before straightening to his full height and sneering at me. “You’ve made quite the mess here, Snake Eyes. Do you care to enlighten the crew as to why?”

I’d seen him use this type of interrogation before. His easy manner made the victim think they were safe from harm. It was how he’d convinced Bobby Jones to confess that he’d stolen extra rations.

Bobby was gone now, beaten to death after Randall had left him to his fellow shipmates, who were extra hungry after we’d skipped a port to make it to England in the time frame Randall wanted.

“He attacked me first, Captain,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’d be dead if I hadn’t defended myself.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied me. Distinctly, I had the impression that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. It was as if I was part of some game, only no one had told me about it.

Steeling myself, I waited for him to question me further. Instead, I watched as he turned toward Sam, his expression turning to that of mild glee.

“Missus O’Rourke,” he said, his voice dripping with sticky sweetness. “Would you be a dear and tell me what happened here?”

Glancing back at her, I could see Sam glaring at him, her arms folded and stance strong. She looked like she’d been through hell and back, and yet, she still wasn’t going to take any shit from him. She seemed stronger than when I’d last seen her, and I found myself wondering exactly what she’d been through in the past two years.

“They fought. He won.” Well, that was gruff and to the point. She really didn’t like him.

“Yes, but what were they fighting about?” There was an edge to his tone, an unspoken threat that we all heard. It was never a good sign when the captain used that tone. Behind him, the crew shifted uncomfortably, the sound of it enough to make them dread him more.

“Legion wanted—how did he put it—the comfort of a woman’s breast.” Her own voice was tight and full of hate, the answer coming from barely moving lips.

Captain Randall laughed, the sound booming in the space as he faced the men behind him. Joining in, his crew forced out a chuckle, not wanting his wrath to turn on them.

“And Snake Eyes, why was this arrangement not satisfactory to you? Did you want her for yourself?” His cold gaze of pretend merriment moved to me and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“Snake Eyes has never touched a woman in all the time we’ve known him!” The shout came from the back of the group, causing real laughter to break out as Randall watched me, his mean smile still in place.

“I know.” The quality to his voice now held a death threat and I felt my face whiten. He continued to grin, the situation not dire to anyone who was watching from the outside, but everyone in the room seemed to know that I was seconds away from being shot.

My initial assessment of his appearance had been wrong. This wasn’t just a fight between mates to the captain—it was a fight over Samantha, and that was something I suddenly realized he would not tolerate. If I didn’t have a good enough reason for killing a man in her defense, I would be dead before we even left port.

“She’s pregnant,” I blurted out, hearing her gasp behind me. “You told me to keep her alive and I thought Legion might put too much stress on her. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I did what I had to.” Holding my breath, I waited to see if the partial truth would be enough.

He froze for only a second, betraying his shock, but then recovered, slipping into his friendly demeanor. “Pregnant? Why, Sam, is that true?” Striding over to her, he pinned her against the wall, standing just close enough that she couldn’t move anywhere else. “Who’s the baby’s father?”

Sam spit in his face before I even knew what was happening. “Tristan will come for me,” she hissed, shoving him away. “And when he does, you’ll all be dead.”

Randall wiped the spittle from his face, glowering at her. All traces of the friendly show he’d been putting on vanished. “I know he will,” he whispered back. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”

I saw the slap coming, turning away in pain and anger for her just before she was hit. The sound echoed through the cabin and I flinched, hearing her fall to the floor with a small yelp.

“However, I don’t plan on doing any dying, and neither do my men.”

Afraid that if I looked in their direction my face would betray my feelings, I stared forward, jaw clenched.

“There will be no sex with this woman,” Randall said loudly, coming into view as he headed for the door, the crew parting to let him through again. “Anyone who tries will be shot, if Snake Eyes doesn’t kill you first. Do you understand?”

“Aye!”

The rousing chorus of agreement followed him out onto the deck, no one wanting to question his reasoning as they slowly shuffled away, until only Legion’s cousin and close friends remained. Without saying a word, they took the body, glaring at me and making intermittent hissing sounds. Finally, only Sam and I were left.

Turning around, guilt grabbed hold of me again as I watched her sit on the ground, cradling her face in her hand. Randall’s slap had split her lip open even more, the tears in her eyes revealing to me just how much it had hurt.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly, offering a hand to her.

“Fine. I’ve had worse than a slap.” Ignoring my help, she shoved to her feet, as if she were trying to prove that she could take care of herself, no matter the circumstance. Looking at the puddle of gore on the ground she nodded toward me. “Are you going to clean that up?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Staring at the spot, I suddenly realized I was still clutching the blade, clenching it so tightly in fact that my fingers ached.

Without another word, she crossed to me, laying her hand on top of mine. “Let it go,” she said softly. “It will be okay.”

Surprised, I nodded, struggling to relax my grip. After a few seconds, the hilt slid from my hand, clattering on the floor. A rush of air moved through me and I staggered somewhat, the adrenaline high I’d been experiencing coming to an instant stop. Guilt spread through me once more, aided by the tender way she continued to hold my hand.

“You’re okay,” she kept saying, coaching me.

It felt like I was coming undone. Whether she knew it or not, it wasn’t just the feelings I’d suppressed during the last few minutes that were coming up. It was everything; all of the things I’d shared with her and the moments I’d kept for myself. Each pain and fear, every hatred and love I’d felt since traveling to this time gushed from me, leaving me a shaking mess.

Her arms wrapped around me, her tone that of a soothing parent as she stroked my hair, apparently knowing that I needed that right now for some reason.

“You’re not alone,” she said firmly, her touch strong and reassuring.

And then I understood. She may not have known everything, but she knew the feeling. It wasn’t just me that was finding comfort; she was with someone from her own time as well.

We were not alone.

The ship left port that night. It was a blow to Sam’s heart, which was apparent. I didn’t know if she’d expected her husband to show up before we even got away, but I hated to tell her he might not even know of her disappearance yet.

As the French coast faded into the darkness behind us, I racked my brain, trying to think if I’d heard or seen anything that would suggest the Black Knights on board had met with the ship Sam claimed had been sent after them.

The crew’s time in London had seemed as normal as any other. We’d taken the long boats in and went our separate ways for the few days we had to ourselves. There was no talk in the streets of any dueling or group fights and when we’d returned, everyone appeared to be in good health, hangovers aside. Frustrated, I was forced to accept that I had no idea if Tristan O’Rourke had met with anyone or not.

Through all this, my mind kept going back to the shipwreck in The Gulf of Mexico, a ship that would surely be the one I was on now. Having Sam on board and learning the few brief things I had from her, it sounded to me that someone would come for her, be it Tristan or someone else. The two ships would meet in the bay, and one would be burned and sink.

Looking over at my friend, I couldn’t help feeling a little worry over her. She’d curled into a ball and gone to sleep, her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. Whatever trouble we were in to, it wasn’t a situation suitable for a baby. She must have been so scared, without Tristan and in the hands of their worst enemy.

Wrong, I corrected myself. She’s in my hands, now.

Smiling softly, I thought of her father, Michael. I was sure, if he’d been able to say it, he would have been happy that she at least had me.

Footsteps announced someone heading our way and I turned, jumping as the door shot open.

“Bring her,” the quartermaster said, his hulk like form turning to leave. “Captain wants to talk.”