The four of them left Abilio’s home at dusk after a pleasant few hours of food, wine, and conversation. Ace fended off his insistence that he send them into town in one of his carriages, claiming they needed to walk after such a large meal. Zander was grateful for the suggestion as they strolled through cobblestone streets, the lanterns lining them being lit as they went, the smell of grilled sardines filling the air. Theo and Yarrow made quick goodbyes, entering a tavern that seemed to be a favorite and leaving Ace and Zander to themselves.
“Would you like to walk a bit more?” Ace asked him. “Or should we find ourselves a room?”
Zander noticed the way her eyes narrowed slightly when she spoke, how her mouth curved to the side. He pulled her against him so he could nip at her ear before whispering, “Let’s find ourselves a bed.”
Ace smiled and took his hand, leading him deeper into the city. He lost track of the winding paths as they went, focused only on the way the white feather she’d tied in her hair that morning fluttered behind her as she walked, the way her hips swayed as she dodged moving carts and running children.
They finally arrived at a small inn Ace seemed to know. It was in a busy square, filled with the sounds of laughter, conversation, and the sizzling of food as it cooked. Pop-up eateries dotted the space, and people gathered around them on mismatched stools, eating. It was the most noise Zander had heard in months, and it filled every corner of his head.
Good, he thought. He planned on being very loud tonight.
The bottom floor of the inn was like a microcosm of the noise from outside. Tables filled the empty space, each one crowded with people who ate, and drank, and laughed boisterously. Tendrils of smoke hung lazily in the air. Ace located a woman who appeared to be in charge and arranged for a room, after which they were directed up a small set of stairs to the second floor.
The room was small. The bed, a small table with a single lit candle, and a wash basin took up most of the space. The window was open, a warm breeze wafting in and carrying the sounds of the evening inside. Zander removed his boots and closed it, drawing the curtains tightly.
When he turned back to Ace, the light from the flickering flame was playing against her skin, casting her beauty in an unearthly glow that took his breath away. He wished he could capture this moment. He wanted to engrave it in his mind—everything from the lines of her muscular arms to the thick curve of her brow.
She reached her hand out, inviting him, and for a moment he imagined her edges shifting in the dim light, as if she were an illusion. He let out a breath and closed the space between them, relieved to find she was solid as he placed his calloused hand in hers.
Leaning forward, pulling her close to him, he kissed her tenderly. She breathed in deeply as their kiss deepened, growing in passion. Zander cupped his hands around her face, desperate to keep her right there, right where he could see her. One hand moved to her neck, then her waist. Her own hands roamed hungrily along his back, her fingernails gently pushing into his skin. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him.
He lowered her to the bed, his body covering hers, and she tangled her hands in his hair, pulling hard. He moaned. Pulling his hair was something she did when she wanted more, when she didn’t have the patience to wait.
He wouldn’t make her wait.
He sat up, his shirt coming off as he did. He tugged at her trousers, pulling them roughly off and tossing them aside. She lay there, spread apart for him, unbuttoning her vest and shirt slowly, and he nearly whimpered at the sight.
Her eyes devoured him as he tugged off his belt, and she sat up to take him in her hands as he pulled down his trousers. He groaned and leaned forward to kiss her, his pants still wrapped around his calves as she sank back onto the bed. His erection rubbed against her warmth, throbbing with need. Trembling, he pulled himself away from her kiss and lowered his body, anchoring his head between her legs as he kicked his trousers off.
The feel of her nails in his scalp urged him on. Her thighs opened and closed against his ears, occasionally muffling her beautiful cries, the centerpiece of the symphony of noise that surrounded them. Zander’s entire body flushed with heat when she climaxed, and then she was pulling him toward her, her hand directing him inside, insistent.
He obeyed, burying himself inside her and thrusting desperately, his moans rising in volume until they matched her own. The shaking of the bed against the wall became a rhythmic pulse against the clamor outside, and as he groaned into her mouth, his hands gripping the headboard, he wished he could stay there for the rest of his mortal life.
Later, as they lay happy and tired in each other’s arms, Zander imagined what it would have been like if he met Ace under different circumstances. What would have happened if he were wandering the streets of London, lost in his thoughts as he so often was, and he saw her standing there? He imagined her full lips stretched into a wide smile, set against the backdrop of a cold London morning.
“Have I ever told you about St. Paul’s cathedral?” he asked her.
“No,” Ace said, her voice sleepy. “Something from home?”
“Yes. It’s the tallest building in London. I used to beg my mother to walk us there when I was a kid.”
“And did she?”
“Only once. But my sister Martha would walk me there sometimes. Looking at that building, it felt like I was in a different world entirely. Like anything was possible.”
Zander paused, thinking of his sister as he wrapped one of Ace’s curls around his finger. Martha was his dearest friend as a child. She taught him everything—or everything that seemed important as a child, anyway—like how to play huzzlecap, and where one is most likely to find bread that’s been thrown out. She married young, and he hardly ever saw her after that. He wondered if she’d dreamt of leaving their life behind when she looked at St. Paul’s, too.
“I was standing in front of that cathedral when I decided to leave London. I stood there for an hour perhaps, just staring. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it. The idea of turning around and going back to my life—to the life I was given by my father—it felt like it would kill me. I decided I’d get on any boat, go anywhere, just to be somewhere different than where I was.”
Ace looked up at him, understanding on her face. He smiled at her, envisioning her standing in front of St. Paul’s cathedral, her trousers and vest replaced by a dress, a silk fan in place of her ivory blade. He wrinkled his nose at the image. It felt wrong somehow, imagining her hair pinned tightly to her head instead of tangled around her shoulders, her gorgeous legs hidden under layers of restrictive cloth.
“What is it?” Ace asked, frowning at his expression.
“I was imagining you in a bodice and skirt,” he said.
Ace’s face twisted in shock, and Zander burst out laughing at the intensity of her reaction.
“Why in the world would you imagine such a thing?” she asked. She ran her fingernails quickly up and down her arms. “Just thinking of it makes me itchy.”
Zander kissed her forehead, smothering another laugh against her cool skin.
“Don’t worry, I prefer you in pants. Or rather, out of them,” Zander said, stroking her bottom appreciatively. “I was just wondering what it would be like if I met you in London, when I was younger. But the image didn’t fit. It was like imagining the ocean resting comfortably in a glass jar.”
Zander sighed, running the edge of his thumb against Ace’s cheek. “I still feel like that little boy sometimes, Ace. Gazing up at something beautiful, imagining I could be a part of it. Playing pirate and hoping no one recognizes me as the tanner’s boy.”
Ace sat up. She looked at Zander with a thoughtful expression, then reached out her hand and placed it over his heart.
“I know you, Zander,” she said. “I know who you are. The day we met, when you told me that meeting me was possibly the last surprising thing that would ever happen to you—that it would all be downhill from there… I knew you then. I’ve been there, facing an endless loop of monotony and predictability. I’ve felt the same desperation to run, to find something, anything, that felt like me.
“It wasn’t until I was out there on the water, totally free from the expectations of society, that I found myself. You’re a pirate, Zander. You may not feel like it yet, but you are. It’s written like a treasure map on your skin, in your eyes, in the way that you taste. You’re not a nameless little boy, dreaming of adventure. You’re free. You’re a pirate. You’re my pirate.”
She leaned down and kissed him fiercely then, and Zander almost believed her.
***
Four days later, they sailed away from Porto, Abilio’s home shrinking in the distance behind them.
The energy of the crew was markedly different from when they made port. A mix of restlessness and deep satisfaction filled the air as they entered open water once more, heading for new shores and new opportunities. Several of the men wore new clothes, and more than a few looked transformed by ample rest and recreation. The only pirate missing was Declan, who never showed up the morning they left, and whom no one had seen since they docked. A quick search showed he’d taken everything he owned with him. No one seemed surprised. He hadn’t been the same since Ace killed Thomas.
