Blackjack Wayward (The Blackjack Series) Read Online Free Page B

reptilian creature that acknowledged the captain landing beside it. With just a nod from the captain as command, the reptile turned the wheel, firing thrusters that rotated the ship and opened the sails to the gusting winds. The sails billowed out and sent the ship reeling off into the depths of Shard World.
    I would have stayed in the launch, in awe of all the shipboard commotion, if not for a strong shove from behind from the skull-faced fellow I had fought just a few minutes earlier. For a moment, I feared he might toss me overboard, but he twisted his face into a skin-less smile and gave me a hand onboard.
    The ship was clean, something you might not expect from a band of pirates, particularly this rough bunch. Every inch of the deck was scrubbed and cleaned, the masts were sanded down and painted, the rigging was properly greased and coiled, and the unused sails were shipped away in their yards.
    The sundry of creatures that kept the ship going reminded me of my prior experience in Shard World, of the small village we fought to protect, and the variegated creatures that called the place their home. The difference was one of functionality: there were few aliens aboard the Black Ship that couldn’t avail themselves in a scrape.
    None gave me more than a cursory glance as I came onboard. They were more concerned with their duties than with the weird-looking newcomer. Besides, they were probably used to new crew joining all the time.
    I had to admit, it was exciting, getting to live through a childhood dream, sailing onboard a pirate ship, cutlass in hand and a scarf on my head, swinging from yard arm to yard arm, while fighting a boarding action. It hearkened back to all my favorite movies as a child, the 1940s Errol Flynn and Tyrone Power classics that I would watch with my brother, then act out using a ruler as a sword and a kitchen towel as a cape, tucked into the collar of my shirt. We’d fight and prance around the house, drawing the ire of my stepmother and her brother, Bennett. Even knowing we’d get a beating from our masochistic uncle was worth the fun, and once the pain of the whipping belt would fade, our minds would wander through the night, fighting off nefarious Spanish villains across the quarter deck of the pirate ships in our dreams.
    And now I was aboard a real pirate ship.
    The sexy little imp reappeared from behind me and took my arm, taking me to the aft gangway leading down just beneath the quarter deck. Above me, the captain was speaking to an impressive-looking humanoid whose eyes bored upon me. He was a tall, golden-skinned man with wide, powerful shoulders and long black hair, wearing nothing but a small loincloth and a shoulder armor rig, along with a scabbarded sword at his hip. His eyes followed me until I was out of sight, headed below decks.
    The imp was in a rush, and heading down the gangway led us to a darkened underbelly of the ship. First was a sweeping gun deck, with a row of eight heavy cannon on either side leading forward, crisscrossed with the crew’s sleeping hammocks. I got only a passing glance of the whole thing before being led further down to the berthing deck.
    The main room was replete with more creaking hammocks hanging from the ceiling, many taken up by the snoring crew from other watches. They circled a central area where a few quiet crewmen sat on boxes and benches around a cooking stove from which emanated a rich meaty smell. Again, I wasn’t able notice much as she dragged me around the kitchen bustling with activity and a small room with stores, and then further aft to a hold that was partitioned with canvas to give the place the appearance of several rooms. She slid the canvas door aside in one room to what were her quarters, and pushed me inside. Once inside, her demeanor changed from rushed to seductive and provocative. She circled a bed large enough only for her, tracing her finger across the ruffled sheets, then over her curvaceous figure, before leaning on