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
This time, I put all of my concentration on the evil man in front of me and when the lightning strikes, it hits the ship right at his feet. The explosion of splintered wood and streak s of water knocks everyone remaining on deck to the ground, including myself.
This time, it's me that laughs as I rise to see the Simon knocked unconscious and bleeding from a gash along his arm.
The wind picks up speed, rocking the near broken ship violently. This thing will be at the bottom of the sea within an hour, and that's even if I don't splinter it further. Hail falls from the sky, pelting me along with everyone else.
I don't care. I don't mind the pain. The bruises that will surely follow are nothing compared to the invisible scarring I'll hold for the rest of my life.
I never wanted this kind of power, never cared to have it. But I'm sure as hell going to use it now that I have it. A gust of wind pushes the ship so hard it teeters on it's side, inches from capsizing.
Another spark of lightening hits the deck and the flash of blond hair causes my stomach to sink. Whitley's body lands hard onto the steps of the upper landing. I wince as her body crashes, falling limp.
Though I shouldn't, I can't help but run to her. I lean over her broken body, and pause, my hand hovering over the inhuman skin of her upper arm, unsure if I want to touch her. Knowing that I can't help it. She might be a siren. She might not be the Whitley I so hesitantly fell in love with. But she's still her, in some way.
I run my hand over her cold skin and shiver. "Whitley?" I whisper.
"Bluff?"
I stop breathing at the sound of my name on her lips, her voice soft and confused. "That's not my name." I tell her, irrationally hoping she'll remember my true name.
She pulls her head up to look me in the eye, my head spins at the contact of her soft gaze. I want so badly to believe she could recognize me. That she still loves me.
But in the next instant a sharply clawed hand is at my neck, pushing me back. I stumble up, pushed by the siren until my back crashes into a mast with a crack, head hitting hard enough to cause my vision to blink in and out of focus.
"Don't touch her." My mother hisses at me.
It wasn't Whitley that attacked. It was my mother. Her nails dig into my skin.
I blink, desperately grasping at this reality. "Why?"
Simon isn't my only enemy, I realize. He only did what I'd expect him to do. He's just a power thirsty man, who will do whatever he can, destroy anyone he must, to gain power. He deserves every bit of pain he gets.
The siren whose hand is squeezing my windpipe closed, deserves so much more. My mother-- someone who should care for me, at least a little-- set me up. And took from me the only person I've truly loved.
I choke out a "Why?"
"She belongs to us." Her hand squeezes harder over my windpipe and I struggle, unable to breath. Unable to free myself. Knowing she's too strong for me. If she wants to kill me, she will.
But she won't, I realize. She needs me alive.
I told her I'd kill her. But really all I want is revenge—to take away her victory before it's won. "I won't let you win." I gasp out, as she loosens her grip.
She leans in, so close I can feel her unnaturally cold breath on my cheek. "I already did."
My lips curl up into a smile as I throw knee up, gripping the blade in my boot in an instant.
