Chapter Four
Wolf's keen senses of smell and sight shown him that he was almost to
the area of the ocean that the Christians were chasing the others. He could see
that they were not going to be in time. The hair stood up on his back, and he
howled for already women were drowning and he could not reach them. He could not
believe his eyes when they had simply held hands and walked out into the ocean,
singing and chanting, to meet what they knew would be their deaths. How brave
they were or, on the other paw, how stupid they were!

Wolf had never believed in anything enough that he wanted to die for it
until he had met Jack. Now he knew he was willing to die for his family yet he
still did not have a cause to which he would give his life. Jack had saved him
on numerous occasions from the hangman's noose, and he owed him big time but
there was still nothing that he believed in to the point that he would die for
it and yet, these women were walking out, almost cheerfully though tears
streamed down several of their faces, to meet certain doom. {Gods, women!} he
wanted to scream out in man's language but only a howl came out.

Where was Jack in all this madness? Wolf believed Jack could do
anything, even stop this madness. He renewed his efforts to reach the women,
only to be blocked by the Christians. The stench of hatred and prejudice that
came off of them was enough to gag him. It was overpowering. He glanced around,
trying to find a place to jump into the water, but the Christians were barring
the water.

It was then that the men finally reached the confrontation. They
attacked the Christians with everything they were carrying -- axes, swords,
daggers, claws. Some, like Xena, Gabrielle, Wolverine, and Cole Turner, were
flurries of action that nothing seemed able to hold back while others, like
Joxer, who was far more apt in the kitchen than on the battlefield, and Carl,
whose shortness was constantly pitted against him, determinedly continued their
struggles against the mob, no matter how many times they were knocked flat of
their backside. The Lewis sisters and their husbands fought side by side in a
blinding daze of silver blades, fur, and hair. Even those few among their number
who might have attempted to find another solution before fighting, and moreover
killing, did not hesitate to do their fullest in the fray for they had all felt
the sting of prejudice at some time or another in their lives.

Their fighting gave Wolf enough of a chance to jump into the ocean. The
first person he encountered was definitely dead. She lay floating with her eyes
open skyward. The fear and grief in her eyes had been dulled by death, but a
peaceful smile remained on her cold lips. It gave him the willies. He knew
there'd be a lot more dead this day. He heard a yell and barely managed to swim
out of the way just as a Christian was thrown in, blood spattering everywhere.
Bile rose in his throat and he almost lost it, but his nose caught a scent of
something barely breathing yet still alive.

Wolf started to swim toward the scent but had to take a quick detour as
two huge forms fell into the water on either side of him. Upon glancing to the
newcomers, surprise flickered in his dark eyes, but as soon as he saw the giant
octopuses beginning to reach for women with their eight arms and caught their
scents, he realized that they were only the shapeshifters, Morph and Tom.
Immediately returning his attention to the scent of the live woman, Wolf
continued toward her.

Reaching her, Wolf got a good grip on her hair. Her clothes were so
heavy that they were pulling the body down, and he fought valiantly to pull the
raven-haired wench from the water. Pushing her to shore, his eyes looked
pleadingly for help. He was not surprised to see that there was only a handful
of Christians left, and even as he watched, they were picked up, throats slit,
and thrown into the water. A pair of strong arms reached down and took the woman
out of the water. He did not let go until he could feel her being pulled. She
was carried over to a grassy area and laid down. Gabrielle stood waiting at the
designated spot, and as soon as Wolf saw the surgeon bend down to care for his
rescuee and heard her calling commands to Joxer and Autolycus who had joined her
in helping to care for those few who were snatched from the water while they
still lived, he returned to his own rescue efforts.



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Upon reaching the water's edge, Carl had gotten off the huge dog and was
running back and forth, trying to braven himself enough to jump in and try to
save one of the lovely women. He was scared of the water and could do nothing
but whimper and run up and down. He noticed that the dog was gone and looked up
and around for his companion, noticing that he had gone over to where a
raven-haired woman dressed in black was laying on the ground.

Carl finally spied what he was looking for. It was a pole with a hook on
it. He knew if he got in the water, his butt would be gone for it would either
suck him down or carry him out to sea. He looked around for a buxom wench to
rescue and finally spied some one with red hair. He snaked the pole out and
caught the clothes, pulling the woman to him. Carl thought she was the prettiest
fish he'd ever seen.

A couple of the guys reached down and pulled her out of the water. "Good
going, little guy," one of them said and reached down and patted Carl on the
head. Carl growled. He hated to be treated like a pet of some kind. He
immediately began looking for another woman to rescue.

He spied another one and snaked the pole quickly out to snag her and
pulled her up close only to find out that she was dead. The pirates who had
quickly gotten rid of the Christians were now just as quickly pulling the women
out of the water. Two of them, Lex and Clark, stayed close by Carl and pulled
out everything that he snaked up. Unfortunately, the redhead had been the only
one alive thus far, and all the rest that were dead they had laid a little ways
away from them, grouping them together. It was a gut-wrenching, heart-sickening
affair for all involved.

Then Carl snagged one with black hair. He pulled her up and breathed a
sigh of relief. She was alive. Even as Clark gathered the woman into his arms
and ran her over to Gabrielle, Carl glanced around but did not see any other
bodies floating nearby. He did, however, see Cole trying to get to shore with a
woman. Carl waited in case he could help.



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Cole had arrived and jumped straight into the ocean, hoping to rescue a
fair damsel, but every woman he came into contact with save one was already dead
and he didn't spend any time getting their bodies out of the water. Cole was
only in it for the live ones, although he would help later after they got the
last live ones out and removed the dead women from the water. No one should have
had to have died in this manner, but he knew it happened far too often. He felt
powerless to do anything about it.

It was then that he spied another woman and swam over to her. He sniffed
her. She was breathing but just barely. His heart stirred at the sight of her,
but he didn't know why. She reminded him of some one. He put his arm around her
and began to swim with his other arm toward the shore. She had been further out
than the others, and her clothes were very heavy. They almost pulled Cole down.
He was relieved to see Carl snaking his pole out, and he grabbed it with his
hand and was pulled rapidly toward the shore where he and the woman were pulled
out.

The woman was carried away toward the area where the live women had been
taken, and Cole lay on his back, breathing heavily, looking at the sky. For such
a miserable day of sadness and sorrow, he could not believe that the sky was
beautiful, not a rain cloud in sight, no one to cry for the dead. He wondered
about the woman and hoped that she had not lost any loved ones in this mess. He
had lost both a mother and a sister to Christians, and he hated them with a
bloody passion.

He closed his eyes and thanked the Gods and Goddesses that he had been
in time and saved two women. He remembered back to another little, petite woman
he had hauled out when he had first got there. The first woman he had rescued
had made him think of his sister. She was small and had long, black hair to her
waist. He figured her eyes were probably blue. He shook himself mentally, got
up, and went to find out how the women were doing.



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Wolverine had been amongst some of the first to reach the confrontation
area and had grabbed three Christians at once, banging their heads together and
then tossing them into the water to drown. He set about on a rampage, killing
Christians with the greatest of glee, until there were no more for him. Then he
began to jump into the water, bringing women out. He did not look to see if they
were living or dead. He just brought them out, dropped them on the ground, and
let some one else deal with them. When he found a Christian, he wrinkled his
nose and pushed them away.

He soon lost track of how many women he had brought up out of the water.
Glancing around, he did not see any more women and saw that the other men had
gotten out of the water, so he figured the attempt was over. All he saw bobbing
up and down was Christian bodies that he was going to leave to rot for the
buzzards.

Something white fluttered in the slight breeze that had suddenly kicked
up, and it seemed to be attached to a floating log. He swam quickly over and saw
that it was a woman, a woman of such beauty that it simply blew him away. He
clenched his fists and ground his teeth. If this beauty was dead, there was
going to be a Hell of a lot more pain going on! He managed to get her to the
water's edge, and when others would have reached out to help him, he growled. No
one would get to help her but him! This one was personal!

He lay her on the ground, rolled her on her back, and began to mash her
stomach, gently at first. Water spewed out of her mouth, and she started
coughing. This one was his! If any one got near her, they'd pay for it. He
continued to work on her, making sure that the water got out of her throat and
mouth. He turned her head sideways so that it could come out more easily. When
no more water seemed to be forthcoming, he sat and looked at her, hoping she'd
breathe clearly and not gaggingly, but she didn't seem to be responding other
than spitting the water out.

He positioned himself over her and began to breathe into her mouth,
holding her nose closed while he did so. He took several deep breaths and blew
them into her mouth again. He did not know how long he was doing this. He was so
frustrated that he screamed out his rage and hit the ground beside her with his
clenched fist. She was going to die on him, and there was nothing he could do!
He picked her up, dragging her into his arms, not realizing that he was crying.
Several tears ran down his face and landed on hers. It was then he felt her
begin to breathe. "Thank the Goddess!" He prayed she'd live.

Chapter Five
Gabrielle stood in the center of the grassy area where the living women
had been carried. Having returned her sais to her boots quite some time ago, her
hands were empty, and without her herbs or even Brendan's tools, she felt
powerless to do anything more to help the women who had yet to waken. Her green
eyes traveled over the unconscious women to her helpers, who she could tell were
as exhausted from their efforts to breathe life into the women as those who had
done the actual rescuing and were now coming out of the water were. Joxer had
fallen face-first onto the ground and had not even bothered to try to get back
up yet, and Autolycus sat on the ground next to her feet, his mouth unusually
silent and his eyes watching the women.

Gabrielle again began to walk around, checking on each of the women.
They were all still breathing, but there was nothing more she could do for them.
All any of them could do now was exactly what the poodle who sat beside the
pale-skinned, raven-haired woman was doing -- sit, wait, and watch for any signs
of improvement or worsening. She did not know where the little dog had come from
but knew from the way his sad eyes intently watched the woman that he belonged
to her and would not be dragged away no more than she would have been dragged
away from Xena had her beloved been in that position.

A sudden yell followed by the sounds of heavy sobbing broke the
stillness that had began to settle in the air. Gabrielle's gaze instantly turned
to the source of the sounds, and her eyes widened with surprise, even as others'
mouths dropped open, to see that Wolverine, who had never shed a single tear
while amongst them, was crying openly and clutching a woman with ivory hair and
chocolate skin. Her forehead creased as she wondered why the stranger had taken
such a toll on him. Was she not a stranger to him, as well? The healer pushed
the thoughts from her mind as she started toward him. She knew very little of
Wolverine's past, but that did not matter.

Gabrielle had barely started toward Wolverine when the woman suddenly
stirred. Seeing the movement as the woman finally began to come to, Gabrielle
did not go any further but stayed where she stood with her eyes carefully
watching the woman to make sure that she would indeed be all right and her ears
open to those around her.



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It was through a mental haze that Ororo Munroe slowly became aware of
her surroundings once more. She felt a weight pressing against her, but as she
grew more alert, she realized that it was not the ocean she felt. She stilled
herself. Had she been dragged from the water as she feared they might be? If so,
then let them do what they would. She would cut out her own tongue before she
would give them anything that they could use against her fellow Witches.

She was putting off opening her eyes when she felt drops of liquid fall
onto her bare shoulders. The liquid came with sounds of crying that finally
brought her eyes to open. Who would be crying for her? She had no one save those
who she had walked into the ocean with, and they would not have brought her out.
As her eyes opened, she found herself looking up into a rugged face who, even
then and though it was littered with scattered scars, she could not deny the
handsomeness of.

She tried to speak, but her mouth, where even now a strange taste unlike
any she'd ever experienced before lingered, did not seem willing to cooperate.
"W-Who? W-Wh-What?" she barely managed in a choked whisper that her own ears
could not even make out.

Wolverine was startled when the woman moved and made a moaning sound. He
smiled for the first time that day. She would make it! Continuing to hold her
with his left arm, he swiped gently at her face, removing her hair from her
face. "I am sorry, little one, for everything that happened here today. You are
safe now. No one will dare to hurt you while I'm here." He picked her up and
carried her carefully to where the other survivors were.

He was not accustomed to showing so much of his feelings. If he had
realized that the others knew he had done it, he would be extremely embarrassed.
If any one had dared to say anything to him, they would have gotten a claw for
their efforts.

Once reaching there, he laid her gently on the ground and turned to look
for Gabrielle. Once spying her, he called to her, "Are they breathing without
too much effort or do they sound like they're gurgling? If they are, we have to
clear their air ways." Wolverine had lead many lives in his lifetime and had a
lot of training in a lot of things. At one time, he had even been a medic during
the war. He had seen a lot of people die but none so senselessly as the ones who
had died this day. He waited for Gabrielle to answer.

"They're breathing on their own, and they've already been cleared. We've
done all we can," came Gabrielle's gentle response from where she stood, keeping
a careful eye on all the patients. "All we can do now . . . is wait," she
admitted with a sigh.

Ororo was still struggling against the awful pain drowning had left in
every inch of her body, but she finally managed to reach up and lay a gentle
hand on the stranger's leg in an effort to get her rescuer's attention. "I do
not understand," she managed in a weak whisper. "Who are you? Why . . . Why did
you . . . do you care?" She had never known another who had cared for Witches
who was not one herself, and in fact, she had never known a man with a good
heart.

"Rest, sweet, gentle lady," Logan said as he knelt down by her again.
"You're safe here. Logan will watch over you. Nothing will get near you." He
could not believe how beautiful she was, and he imagined that she was not the
only one. Maybe that was why the Christians hated the Witches even more? Most of
the Christians tended to be ugly, and every Witch he had ever met was beautiful.

He sat down beside her and looked back up at Gabrielle. "Resting is all
we can do for them now, resting and protecting them, but as soon as they start
to revive, we need to move them to the safety of the ships. It will not be long
before the townsfolk find out what's going on and start coming to investigate."
Gabrielle nodded in response but did not speak. Logan sat just close enough to
the woman that she could feel his presence yet not feel threatened.

Ororo knew that she should be getting to her feet and be seeing to the
others that she had heard Logan talking about, but she could not seem to find
the energy. Not only had drowning taken such an exhaustive toll on her body, but
she had also felt the water's immense heartache for them as they had allowed it
to take their lives. Even as she tried and failed to move her lips and speak,
her eyes drifted shut again.



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Xena had already made the rounds of their perimeters and had sat guards
in each of the directions. She knew it would not be long. Either the townsfolk
would come to find out why their friends had not returned or thieves would show
up, hoping to loot the bodies. Either way, it was her nature to be prepared.

She had to laugh when she saw Joxer laying face-first in the ground with
his butt up in the air. Knowing him the way she did, she knew he had worn
himself out helping. She walked over to him and gently pushed his butt down with
a foot. He never stirred.

Autolycus looked up at the woman who he admired more than any other he'd
ever encountered, but he could not manage a smile or words even for her. His
gaze shifted from her to Joxer who let out a snore that sounded much more like a
bear's than a man's before returning to the women.



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From where she stood watching, Gabrielle released a sigh. At least one
would live. It seemed to her that one woman's return to life was an opening for
the others for it was at that same time that a sharp yip of excitement brought
her attention back to the poodle and the woman who he guarded. She started to
head toward the dog, who was standing at alert with his paws on his mistress'
chest, and the woman, but even as she did so, she was stopped by the sounds of
other women starting to come to all around her.



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The first thing Elvira became aware of was the gentle pressure of
familiar paws on her chest. "G-Gonk?" she whispered. "Wh-What happened? Th-They
didn't get -- ?" She was struggling to speak, and Gonk quickly silenced her with
two yips, a technique that they had worked out long ago. She tried to open her
eyes, but they still hurt too much from the pressure of the water flooding
against them.

"D-Delvira?" she asked in a choked whisper. Her answer came again in two
yips, and her pale forehead creased in confusion. "T-Then w-what?" Gonk set off
barking then, trying to explain to her how he had ran into Carl and how the
Gnome, the strange wolf, and the other Pirates had all joined together to come
to her and the others' rescues, but Elvira only shook her head weakly. "Gods, I
wish I could understand you better," she whispered, her voice so faint that it
could not be heard by human ears.



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Wolf had been walking the perimeter in the opposite direction of what
Xena had been walking. He knew they would come and that it was only a matter of
time. He did not like being out in the open. Wolves never liked to be out in the
open.

He had heard the dog talking to its mistress. He listened but did not
hear anything that upset him, so he continued on his rounds. One glimpse of the
beautiful woman had got his blood excited. He knew that if he had been in man
form, he would have had to leap over there and introduce himself, but for now he
would keep his distance. With Xena going one way and he going the other way, he
knew they had everything covered.



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She had not known what to expect when she next returned to
consconiousness, but the buzzing of unfamiliar, human voices around her had
certainly not been it. Her first thoughts were of her family. She had accepted
her death while almost in the center of her family's part of the line, but her
hands, that had held to Prue's and Phoebe's, were empty. She had to force her
eyes to open, and when they had, she instantly regretted it for the harsh rays
of the sun that cascaded down upon her. She shut her eyes instinctively at first
but forced herself to open them again. This time, she did not shut them but
looked around at her surroundings as best she could.

She knew this ground. She had walked down it just a little while ago,
and she had picnicked on it with her family for years before. She had not died,
but she was, she realized with panicked glances all around her, alone. Her
family was nowhere in her sights. She had lived . . . but they had died. Sobs
broke instantly from her aching throat, and though it burned, she continued to
sob openly, tears flooding her cheeks.

She should have died with them! She should not be here, should not be
alive! She should be with them, even if it were rotting at the bottom of the
ocean! She did not know what had gone wrong, but it did not matter. Her family
was gone from her forever, and she had somehow failed them in their last
breaths! In her desperation and grief, she flailed a weak hand in an attempt to
strike at what she hated most then -- herself.



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Cole had been on his way back to check the ladies he had rescued when he
saw one who seemed to be fighting the air. He went and squatted down beside her.
She was one of the ones he had rescued. He caught both of her hands in one of
his, successfully stilling her struggles. Her hands were small and helpless, but
she was very angry. "Miss?" he asked. "What's wrong? Can I do something to help
you? You're safe here."

"I should not be," she responded to the stranger before she could stop
herself. "I should not be here. I should not be alive." It was through dark eyes
blurred with tears that she looked up at him, and she was startled that the
sight of his handsome face and water still shimmering on his muscular chest made
her heart skip a beat. "I should be with them," she cried, "with my family." Who
was this man? Where had he come from? Was he to be trusted? None of that
mattered, however, her heart argued silently with her brain. All that mattered
was that her family was gone, that they had died, but she had lived.

"You're not the only survivor. I don't know if your family's here or
not. We did the best that we could. Whatever in the world possessed you women to
drown yourselves? You should have stood and fought against your enemy, not just
walk blindly into the sea! Death does no one any good!"

He did not mean to come across so roughly with her, but this day had
just served as a reminder of what had happened to his own family. He still had
not been able to figure out why they had not fought. Why had they gone simply
into the sea?

"I can help you to look for your family, if you'll allow me to touch
you." He figured she probably wouldn't trust him enough to do it. After all, he
didn't even have shoes on, and a lady such as herself probably would frown down
upon a man such as he was. "I am but a simple pirate, ma'am, but I am here to do
what I can to help you." He lowered his hand to her to assist her to her feet.

Her mind was swimming, and her body throbbed from the weight of the
water that had pushed so violently against every inch of her hair and skin. Her
hazy mind whirled as she tried to grasp at what he was saying. She had been
about to answer him when he had declared himself to be a simple pirate there to
help her. "A p-pirate?" she repeated in a small, weak voice as she looked up at
his offered hand through cloudy eyes. She had always been taught to fear pirates
and had never heard of a heroic one such as this man who stood before her, the
man who had rescued her . . . and others? Was her family alive? Were they here
somewhere? There was only one way to find out, and she reached up to take his
hand.

Cole gently pulled her up to him, but though he was gentle and her
movements slow, the world still whirled around Piper at a blinding rate as she
stood. She managed to make it to her feet but instantly started to collapse
against him. Cole's movements were sure and swift as he picked her completely
up. Her burning throat ached too much for her to gasp her surprise. Realizing
that this was the only way she could move around to look for her family until
she had further recuperated, Piper settled into the pirate's strong arms as he
began to walk around so that she could look down to see if she recognized any
one.

Cole held her so close against his strong chest that Piper could hear
his heart beating beneath his muscles, and her own quickened in response. She
shook her head weakly, trying to ignore the sound of his heart and the way his
arms felt so close around her in such a forbidden embrace, and concentrated
instead on making out the bodies that lay on the ground beneath them. Already
she had spotted Ororo, Elvira, and Winifred, but she had yet to see any of her
family. Silent tears continued to stream down her paled cheeks, and fear that
she would not find them shimmered vividly in her brown eyes.

Chapter Six
Angel and Brendan lingered after Jack had left, observing the soldiers.
It seemed they had the day off and were wanting to brag and enjoy every second
of it. Two wenches came in, bearing trays of food and whiskey, and began to wash
the soldiers while the soldiers nibbled on the food and drank the whiskey. The
more they drank, the more they bragged to the women, and Brendan and Angel
listened with rapt ears.

It seemed that the Governor had paid them a huge sum of money and had
given them the rest of the week off to enjoy it, and all they'd had to do was to
get rid of one pesky pirate. They did not name names. They didn't need to. Angel
immediately knew they were talking about Will, and the fact did not take long to
dawn on Brendan either.

Angel congratulated the soldiers on their good fortune but then asked,
"I'm dying to know. Did you kill him, and how?"

"Nah."

"We done something even better!"

"If we'd have killed him, she'd have known and caused a stink."

"Instead, we sold him! Got even more money!"

"Want some whiskey?"

"Sure," Angel said with a grin. One of the half-naked wenches rushed off
to bring back some more whiskey for Angel and Brendan.

When the whiskey arrived, Angel toasted the soldiers. "Where do you buy
and sell people around here?" he asked. "Reckon I could get a woman there?"

"Sure," came the reply, "but you could probably get one here too."

"I'd rather buy one that I can dispense with. I get a little rough, and
they don't always make it. I'd hate to get one of these women here and get into
trouble for it, but if I buy one, then nobody gives a rat's ass what happens to
them."

Though already his eyes were glowing, Brendan held his tongue and let
Angel do the talking. He hated the charade they were having to pull but trusted
his friend and knew he had a plan or, at least, the beginnings of one.

One of the guards said, "They're having an auction this afternoon. It
gets hot and heavy, and you better inspect the merchandise before you buy it.
Some of them got disease that you can't tell till you get 'em. It's at the back
of the market, a tent, doesn't have any markings on it. You go into the tent,
out the back, and you're on a street. It's blocked off. You can buy anything
there! Male, female, goats, sheep, whatever your sexual preference for a hefty
price, but you better not go alone. There's a lot of desperate men there that'd
just as soon slit your throat as they had to look at you."

"Thanks," Angel said. "I'll do that." He continued to linger a while
longer as he did not want to make the guards suspicious, and then, with a
signal, scratching his left ear while making sure Brendan was looking, they both
got out of the tub and began to dress. They had arranged the signal a long time
ago for just such tight times as this.

One of the guards looked at Brendan. "Cat got your tongue, son?"

Yellow eyes flicked up at the guard as Brendan suddenly realized that
his silence had made the guards suspicious. This was not the first time that his
quietness had brought suspicions, and he knew just how to explain it. With a
nervous glance at Angel, he made quick motions at his throat.

Angel looked at the guards. "Can't talk. Mute. Ages ago. He was taken by
pirates and almost killed."

"Oh, sorry," came the reply. "Hope to see you guys again later. We'll
buy you drinks again."

"Sure thing," Angel said as he slipped his dagger into his boot and
headed for the door. Once there, he opened it, allowing Brendan to go out first.
"They've done something to Will," Angel said. "We have to find Jack. At least
he's alive. Hope to the Goddess he's not hurt or Jack will tear this town
apart." He headed for Will's blacksmith shop at a run. When he reached it, he
saw the door was ajar. He started sniffing right away.

Brendan reached it almost at the same time. He, too, began to smell out
the shop. "Not here. Hasn't been for a while, but Jack has been. To the ship,
Brendan," Angel said and started running for the ship.



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It was with a heavy heart that the young man opened the door and slipped
into the back room of his family's store. As he shut it behind him and leaned
against its wooden frame, he wished that it were as easy to shut out the rest of
the world. His life had been happy once, full of a loving family and friends,
but then everything had changed. Now his mother was always out somewhere, and
his father had taken to drinking. The store had fallen onto Dawson's shoulders
completely, but that was nowhere near the worst of it. No, the worst of it had
came just a few nights ago, and the boy shuddered at the memory. "If you're
cold, I can warm ya up."

The strange voice, laden with sultry, husky undertones, brought his head
snapping up. His blue eyes flew open only to find themselves looking into a pair
of the darkest, most bewitching eyes he'd ever seen. "How'd you get in here?" he
demanded.

A coy smile played across dark lips. "You didn't even have your door
locked. Not," she added in admission, "that that would've stopped me." She slid
off the box she had been sitting on and started toward him.

The way she moved reminded him of a cougar on the prowl, and the sexy
way her body, which was barely clad in tight, black leather, shifted as she slid
smoothly toward him made his heart skip a beat and then rage with all the
loudness of thunder in his ears. "W-Who are you?" he managed to gasp out.

"Name's not important," she purred in answer to his question even as she
reached him. She made as if to slam her fist next to his head, but her palm fell
silent on the wood. Still, he jumped, and her smile grew at his reaction. "Call
me Faith. Call me Dream Weaver. Call me after the little, innocent town girl
you've got the hots for. I don't give a damn. I'm not here to play names."

She leaned forward, and he found his betraying eyes gazing down at her
arched bosom. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. When he reopened
them, he found that she had moved even closer to him, so close indeed that her
lips were mere inches from his. He started to slide out from under her, but she
blocked him, effectively pinning him to the door with one arm on either side of
his quivering body. "Then what are you here for?!" he demanded, his mind, blood,
and heart all racing at once.

"To make your dreams come true," she growled seductively, her breath
brushing over his lips. "For this." Her hand found the rising bulge in his
pants. He jumped as she caressed him there, but as his mouth started to open in
a sharp exclamation, her lips took his, silencing him.

Dawson Leery had never before met a woman like the one who now stood
before him, her body arching into his while her lips drank deeply of his and her
hand squeezed his member. Unlike most other men his age, Dawson had never even
dreamed of a woman like this. Her first touch had scared him to his core and
brought back memories of the other night, but her first kiss made him ache for
more.

He still had no ideal what to do with or even about her, though. Part of
him wanted to throw all caution to the wind and take this once in a lifetime
chance that he, by some unthinkable twist of fate, was being offered, but
another part was still scared. What if there was something more to this than she
was showing him? What if they were caught? What would happen to his pristine
reputation, to his engagement to Josephine? What if his father was the one to
walk in on them? He was still quivering as he pressed one hand against her
breast, and though he almost lost his nerve at the way her hardened breast felt
in his hand, he pushed her away with all the strength he had.

She fell back only a few steps and did not even have to try hard to
maintain her balance. Her dark eyes were quickly filling with anger as they
looked up at him from underneath a shock of black hair. "Don't tell me you
didn't like that," she growled challengingly.

Seeing no reason to lie but not daring to try to speak the truth,
either, Dawson gulped even as he shook his head. "Then what," she demanded, "the
Hell is your problem?!"

"Why?" he managed to ask.

"Why what?" she snapped.

"Why do you want me?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. None of her previous targets had
bothered to ask her such a question. She was sure they had probably wondered
what would attract a woman such as she to their cowardly hides, but none had
ever voiced it. Looking back at the blonde, she lifted her muscular shoulders
into a rolling, careless shrug. "I want a ride, and you looked like the best
horse this damn port had to offer."

Dawson's mouth fell open at that, and for a moment, he could not think
of a response. Then finally, he found his voice again. "I'm . . . not what you
think. I'm a virgin."

"I know," she said with a shake of her head and a grin. "I like 'em just
your style, boy."

"Don't you even want to know my name?"

She shook her head again while exclaiming, "Hell no!" He started to
speak again, but before he could, she had pulled off her shirt, kicked off her
boots, and shimmied out of her pants. He could not even think as he stared at
the amazing beauty before him, and he was even only vaguely aware of the rising
pain in his pants. "Look," Faith told him, holding her arms open wide so that he
could get a good look at her. "This is what I'm offering you. A ride of a
lifetime with a woman unlike any you've ever known and ever will know. I can
teach you things in five minutes -- heck, in a minute -- that you'll never get
the chance to learn in the rest of your life. I can make any of your fantasies
come true. And there's no strings attached. You'll never even see me again after
today."

Dawson was stunned speechless. This all seemed too good to be true. He
had to be dreaming, but as she closed the distance between them again and
caressed his sword once more, he realized that her touch was too good not to be
real. "So what do you say, choir boy? Want some help with that or do you just
wanna jack off all by yourself in the corner again?"

No woman had ever invoked the feelings this stranger already had in him.
No other woman had ever even heated his blood. Despite his fears, Dawson found
himself nodding. Faith had him naked and on the floor before he even knew what
hit him.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They ran for the ship as fast as their feet could carry them, their
bodies a near blur to any one who looked up at the passer-bys. Angel's mind was
focused only on reaching Jack so that they could find and rescue Will before he
could be sold into Gods only knew what, but Brendan remained more alert. The
guards had angered the wolf inside the man, and he had been struggling to keep
his beast in control ever since the bath house. The wench who had brought their
whiskey would realize later that his bottle had gone completely untouched, but
none of them would ever realize the danger they had just been in not only from
Brendan himself but from his companion, a Vampire, as well.

His senses were already on full alert long before they reached the
ships, and a mixture of urgent scents hit his nose even as Angel started to dart
up the plank. Brendan quickly reached out and grasped his arm. "Jack's here," he
whispered, "but the others aren't. Whatever happened, they left in a hurry.
Jack's not alone, either. There's a female I haven't smelled before. She's rich,
though, not a harlot or even one of our kind. And Jack's in trouble." With a nod
toward the Pearl, he added in explanation, "There's six or seven different
smells coming from there besides theirs. Strong men. Angry men. And confusion,"
he added with a creased brow.

"We should split up and come up at different parts of the ship. Hide and
see what's going on," Angel said. "Keep me in your smell and your ears alert. I
will send you a signal if we are to attack. Whatever you do, do not endanger
Jack." He didn't need to tell him that. Jack was like a brother to both of them.
"And don't endanger yourself," he added. That he did need to tell him, because
he knew Brendan would take any chance he felt he needed to protect Jack and did
not feel his own life worthy of protecting.

He squeezed his arm gently. "We need you, and we do care about you," he
emphasized. He had to keep telling Brendan that, because Brendan never felt he
was worthy of any one caring. His past life had been such a mess. "Good luck,
buddy," Angel whispered. "Listen for an owl." He slipped quietly aboard the
Pearl. No one saw him, but he saw them. He heard them. He saw Jack try to fight
them and be taken down to his knees, and he growled his frustration. He wanted
to attack all of them at one time, but then he saw Brendan also sneaking aboard.
Brendan had a better shot. Angel waited. When Brendan attacked, he would attack.
He just hoped Brendan had a plan.

Jack had watched the shadows as they turned into two of his most trusted
men. He did not give them away, and he did not try to rise. He knew if he did,
his jugular would be cut.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brendan had taken the hard way up the ship. Instead of just slipping
onto it as Angel had done, he had climbed up it while holding his dagger at the
ready in between clenched teeth. When he had first reached the top of the side,
he had peered over it, but when he had seen Jack in trouble, he had known he had
to do something. He stayed with the shadows as he flipped silently over the side
of the ship and remained just as quiet as he closed in on the guards.

By the time Brendan had reached nearly directly behind the guards, he
had a dagger in each hand, but the wolf was even closer to his surface as he had
watched the guards berating the first man who had ever dared to take a chance on
his lowly, worthless hide. His yellow eyes were blazing and his fangs glistening
when he let out a growl that shook the entire deck of the ship. The guards
jumped, letting out screeches that sounded far more feminine than they looked,
and he plowed in, bringing the butts of his daggers hard across two heads at
once.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It started with a kiss as Faith again conquered his lips with her own,
her tongue plunging farther down into his mouth than he'd thought could ever
even be possible. Their tongues twisted and rubbed against each other as they
danced in a heated fencing session, but all too soon for Dawson, Faith's mouth
left his. Though his red lips were bruised from the intensity of their kiss,
they ached for further attention from her. He started to call to her, wondering
what she was up to, but even as he remembered that he did not know her name, his
words froze in his throat as her tongue ran over his neck.

She littered his tightened throat with kisses and licks that scorched
every inch of his lightly tanned skin that she touched. She sucked the base of
his neck for a moment before beginning a series of kisses that ran further down
his bare chest. The sensations she invoked in his quivering body and the thrills
she sent coursing through his blood left him helpless to do anything more than
lay back and enjoy every second of this wild beauty's attention.

When she reached his first nipple, she ran her tongue around its outer
edge before licking its center and bringing a shudder of delight from her prey.
She sucked his hardened nipple into her teeth and nibbled on it. Though it hurt
somewhat, he even found the pain immensely enjoyable and gave a soft cry of
dismay when she released it. He sighed with pleasure as she then moved on to
using the same procedure on his other nipple.

Releasing his left nipple, Faith slid further down his body, raining a
series of scorching kisses down his stomach. As she slowly slid over and past
his rearing stallion, her taut breasts caught his erected member between them
and squeezed tightly. She lowered her head, and her tongue darted out to lick
the bit of juice that poured over the edge. His sword quivered as her tongue
lapped the beginnings of his nectar not only from its tip but from her own
breast, as well.

Dawson was panting hard now, and his sword shook with such speed that
Faith knew it would not be much longer now. She slid further down his body so
that she was crouched just over his knees and lowered her head. Her tongue
tasted of his tender skin as she kissed the inside of his calves, and he let out
a yelp of surprise as she suddenly nipped him. Her hands groped his testicles,
and she squeezed them slightly even as her mouth returned to his sword.

She kissed its tip before running her tongue all around its sheath. She
finally began to lower her lips around his quivering member again, and her teeth
gently grazed him as she sucked his tip. Her tongue wrapped around his sword and
her teeth grazed his delicate skin there as she lowered her mouth slowly but
steadily over his stallion. As she sucked harder, his moans grew louder. Her
hands had been caressing his balls, but as she squeezed his testes once again,
her liquid reward flooded her mouth.

Her teeth held to his member as his juice filled her mouth and poured
down her throat. His yells of delight far beyond anything any of Port Royal's
men had ever experienced before shook the windows of the shop and spooked its
customers. They dropped whatever they had been holding and ran from the store as
if it were possessed by Demons from Hell, but though Faith heard and did not
care, the sounds went completely unnoticed by Dawson.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Angel had been about to jump into the fray when a woman's voice reached
his ears. He could see that Brendan had the situation well in hand and that the
minute Brendan had attacked, Jack had been released and jumped to his feet,
sword in hand, fighting the guards. Angel figured the woman needed rescuing
first. He didn't see anything Jack couldn't handle with Brendan's help, but once
he had the woman, if they still needed him, he was more than willing and able to
kick their butts. "Stand and deliver!" he said to the back of the burly guard
who had the woman cornered.

The captain's blue eyes glanced over his muscular shoulder at the
stranger who stood behind him. "Stand down, peasant. This does not concern you.
This lady is the Princess and my betrothed, and her father wishes her home. Do
not attempt further intrusion unless you wish to taste the steel of my blade in
your final moments!"

Angel looked frantically around for a sword. The only weapon he had was
his dagger. He usually didn't carry a sword, but he knew how to use one expertly
and had often fenced with Brendan. He didn't say anything but dodged frantically
for the weapons' room and, grabbing the first sword he saw, was back at the
captain's side in three shakes of a lamb's tail. He roared, "Turn and face my
steel and leave the woman alone! She doesn't seem to want your attentions!" He
had moved so quickly that he had been a blur and the soldier had hardly known he
was gone before he had returned.

The captain drew his own sword even as he turned to meet the stranger.
"I will tell you one final time. This does not concern you."

"I'm making it my concern," Angel said. "You can not treat the woman as
though she was your own slave; rather she be a Princess or not doesn't matter!
She has a right to choose her own destiny, and apparently she doesn't want you!"
He raised his sword and met the captain's sword in mid-air. He fought like a
Demon possessed, and in mere seconds later, he had disarmed the captain,
throwing his sword over the side of the ship and pressing his own sword against
the captain's jugular. "You should've left when you had the chance, ya scurvy
swine! Now you're going to meet your maker!"

Frantic hazel eyes had watched the two men's every movement as they had
fenced over her destiny, and though she did not wish the man she had known all
her life to be harmed, she had desperately wanted the pirate to win for she knew
what would happen if he did not. When she saw that he had, her heart had leapt
in hope, but terror flooded her soul when she heard the pirate's words and
realized that he might not be the hero that she had thought but merely a pirate
out to rid his ship of intruders. Knowing that she was putting her own self in
danger, she still ran to his side, holding out a hand and exclaiming as she ran,
her other hand picking up her dress' skirts so that she did not trip over them.
"No! Please, no!" Tears ran down her face even as she reached the pirate and
dared to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Please, do not kill him! He would not have
harmed me, only forced me to return to my home and do what he thinks is best for
me!"

"For you, I will spare him, but if he comes back aboard our ship, he can
expect to die." Angel dropped the sword, picked up the captain, and threw him
over the side of the ship. "And don't come back!" he said as he brushed his
hands together as though he had filth on them.

"Now, my lady," he said as he gave her a rather stiff bow, "I know you
are supposed to be a Princess, but it doesn't matter. You have the right to
choose where you want to go. If you want to stay, you'll have to see our
captain, but if I can help you, I will." He tried to keep himself separate from
her as he did not want her to know that he was very desirous of her. She was the
most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and it had been a long time since he'd had
a woman.

"Now I have to help my captain. If you'll stay here, you'll be safe."
Angel picked up his sword and leaped downward where he had last seen the
fighting only to see Jack booting the last one over the side of the ship.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sweat glistened on their naked bodies as they lay together on the hard,
wood floor. Knowing the boy needed a bit of time to recuperate, Faith had laid
down beside him and had even allowed him to wrap an arm around her body. She was
already tiring of waiting now and ran a hand over him, suggestively caressing
his lightly muscular chest.

Dawson was still panting hard and all his senses were still whirling
from the pleasure he had just experienced from this strange vixen who lay next
to him when she started rubbing his chest. "Huh . . . Hum . . . " he started in
between pants. "I . . . I can't . . . Not . . . Not yet . . . "

Faith grinned at the words she had known were coming. "That's what you
think, lover," she purred to him as she flipped herself up to where she
straddled him once more. She ran a hand through his thick mane of blonde hair as
she gazed down at him. "Here," she whispered seductively, her voice on the brink
of a soft growl, as she leaned back down over him. "Try this."

Dawson opened his mouth to ask her what she wanted him to try and
suddenly found one of her breasts in his mouth. He was so surprised that he
closed his lips around it without even thinking. Her breast already tasted so
sweet that he couldn't help giving it a lick, and a sigh of pleasure broke from
her dark lips as his tongue ran over her nipple. Slowly, Dawson began to suck
her breast, and his staff instantly began to respond and rise back up. As his
suckling grew harder, Faith caressed his chest, her fingernails playing across
his skin like other women's fingers might play a well-tuned instrument.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack was rewarded with a satisfying smack as the soldier hit the dock.
"That one won't be coming back any time soon. Thanks, my friends, for the timely
rescue."

The fighting had brought the wolf even more to Brendan's front, and he
was barely able to hold it back. As the others talked around him, he stood,
looking in horror at his hands that were covered in blood that was not his own.
During the midst of the fight, Jack had had to take one of the guards from him
and thrown him into the water, and Brendan had nearly lashed out at his captain
when he had done so. His chest heaved, and already his skin itched. He could
feel the howl building in his throat even as he hit his own head with all his
strength. Brendan fell onto the deck and slid against it until his head collided
with the side of the ship. The last thing he heard before unconsciousness took
him was a startled, feminine gasp from above.

Jack realized that Brendan had knocked himself out. He was not afraid of
the wolf. He was not afraid of the man. He cared about the man, and he realized
that the wolf was a valuable ally but that sometimes he got out of control. This
time, he had not killed any one, but he had really torn them up. They would not
be coming back. He reached down and touched Brendan's head gently. He knew
Brendan could not hear him as he thanked him again. He'd thank him when he woke
up. He was thankful for Brendan, Angel, and most of his crew. He had a few he
didn't really appreciate yet. They were still not completely family, but these
two definitely were.

He turned startled eyes toward the female. He had known she was up there
and that Angel had gone to rescue her, but he had not expected her to turn out
so beautiful. Even though he could recognize her beauty, she did not do anything
for him, but he could tell Angel was enamoured already. He wondered if Angel had
vamped and bit the captain even though he realized that Angel was in better
control of his Demon than Brendan was. Angel's clothes were in tact, so Jack
figured he had not.

Jack now looked at the woman. With a bow, he said, "Welcome aboard, Your
Majesty. Captain Jack Sparrow at your service. What can we do to help you?"

Angel moved over to check on Brendan. He wondered if he should carry him
to the sleeping quarters but then realized he didn't want to leave the woman
alone with Jack. He knew Jack had quite the reputation with the ladies, and he
didn't want to take a chance of losing his new charge to Jack. He could move
Brendan later if need be.

As she looked down at the two handsome men and the third who had, for
some bizarre reason, knocked himself out, she wondered a million things. She
wondered who they were and why they had rescued her. She wondered if her
rescuer's telling her bethrothed not to return would do any good or if her
begging for his life would only assure that he would continue to come after her
instead. As she realized that she was looking down at the trio, she also
wondered how in the world she had managed to get herself up as high as she had.
"Th-Thank you," she called down to them. "Y-You've already done so much. How can
I ever possibly repay you?" As she listened for their answers, she started to
climb down, never realizing the view her dress, with its low cut and side slit,
afforded them.

Jack did not watch as the woman descended but turned to check on
Brendan. Angel's eyes were glued to her shapely legs and ankles. He found
himself almost salivating. Assuring himself that Brendan was only sleeping, Jack
turned back to the Princess. "Do not worry about repaying us, Your Majesty. You
owe us nothing, but we do have to do something about your would-be abducters. We
didn't kill any of them, but we did hurt the heck out of them. It won't keep
them for long. Your would-be intended will get another group and come back
again. We can't leave port right now, so it's only a matter of time before they
will return. Is there somewhere that we can take you perhaps that you'll be
safe?"

Hazel eyes looked down at the captain as he spoke to her, but the simple
act was her undoing for her foot slipped from its place even as she was trying
to make her way down. With a gasp, she found herself falling.

Angel leaped toward her and caught her in mid-air, bringing her back
down with him to the ship's deck. He held her a moment longer than necessary
before allowing her to slide down his body to the deck, never saying a word but
gazing deeply into her eyes. Damn, but she was beautiful! If he was anything
more than a lowly pirate, he would dare to make a move on her. As it was, he was
enjoying every second of being in her presence.

The strong arms that had suddenly wrapped around her and whisked her to
the deck's safety had caused her heartbeat to quicken and stolen her breath.
Though she knew she shouldn't, she relished the feel of the stranger's arms
around her and found his dark eyes and handsome face even more bewitching. The
feel of his hardened body as she slid down him made her heart thunder at the
speed of lightning and filled her body with feelings unlike any she'd ever known
before. Her arms had somehow ended up around his neck, and even now, though the
fingers of one hand gently rested on his cheek, she was hesitant to move them.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She could feel his rising sword from where she straddled him, and as he
grew stiff enough once more, she pulled back slightly from him. A sound of
wordless complaint broke from Dawson's lips as Faith brought her breast out from
his mouth. She silenced him with a kiss before sliding back down his body. She
lifted herself over his member, and he gave a cry of mixed pleasure and pain as
she lowered herself down his staff. She did not stop until he completely filled
her and then began to rise up and down on his sword.

Her smile grew with pleased approval as she found that he was not as
timid this time around as he had been when she had granted him the blowjob. His
hands reached up and, taking one of her arched breasts in each hand, he began to
caress her taut skin. He squeezed her gently. His fingers and palms caressed her
bosom, and his thumb ran circles over her hard nipples.

He leaned forward to meet her, sending his sword plunging even higher up
into her sheath, and her lips were waiting for his when he reached her. She let
him do the leading of their kiss this time as his lips touched down upon hers.
His tongue quested permission between her teeth, and she welcomed him into her
contours. As their tongues danced, his hands slid from her breasts to her back.
They caressed her skin as they slid down the small of her back before cupping
and squeezing her buttocks.

She had continued to slide herself up and down his staff, and as his
bucking grew and she continued to ride him, her arms wrapped around his torso,
bringing his body even tighter against hers. In between their heated kisses, as
their lips had to break apart for gasps of oxygen, their cries of pleasure grew
until they rattled the very windows of the shop. She squeezed his staff, and as
he shot up into her and they cried out together, her figernails scratched his
back, marking him as hers. The mark would turn out to last much longer than
either had ever intended.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack, noticing the play between Angel and the Princess, spoke. "I have a
lot of things I have to take care of. Angel, I am putting you in charge of the
Princess." He heard a low moan and looked down to see that Brendan was stirring.
"I have to find Will. Some one has taken him. If they've hurt him, I'll kill
them!"

Brendan was only barely aware of Jack speaking from somewhere above him
as he began to come to, but the Captain's voice reminded the Princess that she
was not alone with this handsome, heroic pirate who was also a stranger to her.
Though he had saved her life and rescued her twice now, she still did not even
know his name. Crimson flooded her cheeks as she forced herself to step back
from him.

Angel was lost in the scent of the woman. It was heavenly, and he had
not had a woman in a long time. Thanks to Jack, Angel was able to go about in
the daytime. He did not know how Jack had achieved it, but Jack had gained an
amulet that, once placed on Angel's neck, gave him the ability to go out in the
daylight. That had been over a year ago, and Angel had not had a woman in all
that time. His loins let him know that now, but at Jack's words, he sobered
himself and released the woman. "We know what happened to Will. He's alive, but
he's been sold and is going to be auctioned. We know where it's going to take
place."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Will was alive. "Do you
know where he's being held?"

"Yes," Angel said. "Brendan and I will go with you."

"No," Jack said. "Brendan will go with me. You need to stay here and
take care of the Princess."

"Jack . . . " Angel said in a strange voice. "That might not be such a
good ideal."

"It's not a good ideal for you to bring the Princess to an auction . . .
" Jack started only to be interrupted by Brendan who was finally sitting up.

As he had been breaking through to return to consciousness, Brendan had
listened to Jack's and Angel's voices above him. He could smell the racing of
Angel's heart and hormones, as well as the Princess', but nonetheless had to
agree with Jack. "And it's a worse idea to leave her with a wolf."

"The others will not return for quite a while," Jack said. "They had to
go on a rescue mission. I could use their help, but until they return, we are
all there is. If you can't control yourself, Angel, maybe you should let the
Princess lock herself in my cabin? Stay seperated from each other." He, too,
could tell there was something going on between them.

Women! They were always in heat, and men were always wanting to enrage
the beginning flames in hopes that the fire would consume both of them! He had
sought that himself, but no matter how many women he had bedded, none of them
had managed to put out his flames. He shook himself mentally. He was having to
come face to face with something he had feared was happening to him for a long
time. He feared the only one who could put out his flames was Will, and he knew
that the chance of that was about as good as a snowball in Hell surviving.

"Lock yourself in!" he said. He had once heard a doctor describe to a
woman a way of keeping her legs tied together but thought better of telling the
Princess. She might take him to be a very crude man indeed, and Jack really
wasn't when concerned with women. "Just give me a moment," he ran into his
quarters and searched around in his dresser drawer until he came up with a hefty
sack of gold coins just in case he needed it to buy Will. There was more than
enough gold in there to outbid any one in this Gods-forsaken town of Port Royal,
including the Governor.

He had been about to take part of it, pay another old friend a visit,
and order another sword. He had been doing that for a long time. Miles had been
placing orders with Will, paying him in Jack's gold, and giving the swords to
Jack. He had quite a few of them hanging on his walls. He was proud of each and
every one of them. Will was quite the craftsman, but he had no ideal that it was
Jack who was buying the swords. In fact, Will was becoming rich making Jack's
swords though never knowing that Jack was getting them.

Jack had wanted to just give the gold to Will out right, but he knew
that Will would not accept it. He thought himself to be very clever in getting
the gold to Will. He put the gold into a pouch and slung it over his shoulder.
He picked up one of the swords and replaced his every-day sword with it. This
was a special sword; it was extremely strong for longer duels and overly sharp.
He would take great pleasure in using it against any one who had touched his
Will.

Straightening his clothes and cleaning up his appearance, he slipped his
hat on his head and stepped back out. "Are you able to travel yet, Brendan? And
you may use my cabin now, Princess." He figured when he got back, Angel and she
would be wrapped up together, but he was not overly concerned with it at the
moment.

Brendan had nodded and started to answer Jack, but the Princess had
spoken more quickly than he. Though she wondered why the captain was offering
her his cabin for she had not eavesdropped on the men's conversation out of the
manners that had been trained into her throughout her entire life, she did not
ask him about that but merely nodded. "Thank you, Captain, though, please,
sirs," she added in indication that she was speaking to all three, "there is no
crown on my head nor do I wish there to be. My royal title is part of the life
that I do not wish to have to return to. Please call me Cordelia."

Jack nodded and lowered his hand to Brendan. "If you think about
somewhere that you want to go while we're gone, you can tell us when we return.
Angel will guard you and make sure no one disturbs you. I would suggest you
rest. Angel, when the others return, have them get ready to leave. It is not
safe for Will to be here, and I want to get the Hell out of here. I'm taking him
with us."

Angel said, "I will tell them, and we will be ready." He was surprised
Jack had managed to clean up so quickly and thought he looked rather dashing.

Brendan accepted Jack's offered hand and the captain's assistance in
aiding him to return to his feet. He started to bow to the Princess but stopped
himself as he realized that that, too, would be part of the life she was seeking
to put behind her. Instead, he tipped his head with a polite, "Madam," as he
would have to any other woman and turned to leave.

"Lead me quickly to Will," Jack said. "We will do what we must, but we
will not leave there without him." Without another word, Brendan took off and
Jack followed.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they lay together afterwards in the glow of the glorious love-making
they had just experienced together, Dawson found himself wishing that the moment
could last forever. Though he still did not have any inkling of her name, the
woman he currently held in his arms had filled him completely and had not only
already made him feel more pleasure than he'd ever dreamed possible but had also
made him happier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He opened his mouth to
ask her again for her name, but it was at just that time that he heard his own
called from inside the shop. "Dawson?"

"Oh God," the words slipped out before he could stop them, and her dark
eyes slanted questioningly up at him. "It's my Father," he explained. She saw
the fear on his face and heard the terror in his voice but did not bother to ask
him why his father's voice would bring such a reaction from him. Instead, she
rolled out of his arms and started for her clothes.

He reached up to her and managed to grab her hand. She looked down at
him, her glare demanding an explanation. "Please," he whispered, "don't . . . "
He was so shocked at the harsh emotions that flashed in her eyes, telling him
that what they had just shared meant nowhere near as much to her as it did to
him, that he released her hand.

Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, and Dawson's mouth
moved in a silent gasp as he realized that he had not even bothered to lock the
door. He rolled to a standing position and nearly fell over his own feet as he
rushed to snatch his clothes back on. He was still struggling to button his
pants with trembling fingers as the door was opened with such force that its
slamming against the wall echoed through the store.

Dawson dared a glance at his father, and a wave of horror hit the young
man at the angry glower on his father's reddened face. He glanced at where his
wild beauty had been, but she was gone and the back door hung open, still
swinging in the breeze, from where she had fled through it. "D-Dad," Dawson
stuttered, looking back up at his father. "I-I can explain!"

"No need to," Mitch Leery snapped as he strode purposefully into the
room. "It's pretty damn obvious, Dawson, and just what I thought I'd find. You
won't give your dear, old dad the one thing he asks from you, so you go out,
pick up some whore, bring her back here, and fuck her in my store!" he roared.
"It wasn't even that damn Josephine that your stupid bitch of a mother set you
up with, was it?!" he demanded. Dawson shrank back from his approaching father.
He could smell the alcohol on his breath even from that distance. "Answer me,
boy!" Mitch demanded, his eyes blazing.

"N-No," Dawson whimpered in response. He tried to back further away, but
his father reached out, grasped him by the shoulders so hard that his grip would
leave marks, and snatched him to him.

"You're mine, Dawson," Mitch hissed in his face, his foul breath
spraying spit across his son's face. "All mine! But if I can't have you, I'll
just sell your sorry butt!" With that, he turned and threw his own flesh and
blood so that the boy landed in front of four other strong, burly men.

Dawson's terrified heart roared inside his chest as he looked up at the
four men who towered above him. He'd never seen any of them before, but as he
heard his father telling him that he was theirs for the sum they'd agreed upon,
he knew what was going to happen to him. He also realized, or so he thought,
that his life was over. The one thing Dawson failed to realize was that he had
hit his head on the door at such an angle that blood was beginning to trickle
from the wound. His world suddenly grew dark, and the last thing Dawson saw
before he passed out was his father accepting money from one of the traders who
stood over him.


To Be Continued . . .


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