Hidden Island Chapter 20, part 2 of 3

Hidden Island
Chapter 20, part 2 of 3

"It still doesn't seem right to me," Will said.

"When did you become uptight?" Jack side-eyed her former lover.

"It isn't that." Will shook his head. "I've never cared who you slept with, before, during, or after me. I think I was always pretty clear about that. It just makes me uncomfortable. The idea of having sex with someone when you aren't sure if they're doing it because they want to or because they feel obligated to makes the whole thing seem..." He trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"But you're fine with Bella working in a brothel?" Jack asked flatly.

"Yeah. That's different. It's business, and both sides are upfront about everything," Will said, trying to explain.

"It doesn't seem that different. At its core, Quinn and I's relationship is business, too," Jack countered.

"So you're comparing Quinn's religion to prostitution?" Will argued.

"Wouldn't be that strange. Sacred prostitution exists in a few different religions. His is just more... full service," Jack smirked.

"Did you pay for that service?" Will asked pointedly.

"Yes," Jack said firmly. "The price was quite steep."

"Might as well enjoy it then," Lace shrugged.

"Might as well," Jack agreed. I'll let Quinn know you're concerned about his well-being, however. He doesn't laugh often, but that might do the trick."

Will sipped his rum. "I guess it's his life. He can do what he wants with it."

"So when do I get to borrow him?" Lace looked like a cat with a canary in its mouth.

Jack laughed. "Quinn would be disappointed if I didn't ask for something in trade. What are you offering?"

"What do you want? I'm a sailor. I don't have much," Lace shrugged.

"I want to know what the hell Will's plan is." Jack wasn't even trying to hide her devious expression.

Lace looked to Will, who was looking at Jack with trepidation and exasperation. Then she looked back at Jack and shook her head. "It's not my story to tell. You bargain with him for that." Will looked relieved.

Jack shrugged. "Worth a shot. How about a favor? Sometime later."

Lace's brows went up. "I get the right of refusal," she said firmly.

"Done," Jack smiled, offering her hand. The two women shook, and Jack stood up. "Come on, let's go get you laid."

As Jack walked behind Will, she casually ran her hand through his hair, just like always. It was a habit. A small ritual. She hadn't thought about it. She probably would have, but the alcohol in her system had dulled her forethought. Will's eyes turned her way and met hers, and for a moment, they both looked shocked and confused. Neither of them said anything, and Jack turned away. Lace hooked an arm through hers and pulled her toward the stairs.

I will watch them leave until they disappear below deck. Jack glanced over her shoulder just before she was out of sight. She still looked a bit bewildered, and Will was sure he probably did, too.

It was a small thing, somehow meaningless, overloaded with complications simultaneously.

Tonight, he had been good. Cathartic, informative, healing. It is also confusing and frustrating.

He was usually good at going with the flow of things, trusting that everything would work itself out if he kept his eyes on the horizon and adjusted course where he needed to. That slight, familiar touch had felt like hitting a rock below the water's surface. Unexpected. Jarring. It was hard to judge the extent of the damage, but he could tell right away that something was leaking.

Things he didn't like thinking about were bubbling up. He suddenly found himself struck by what the years without Jack had been like and who he'd become without her—or perhaps because of her.

No, that wasn't right. Sure, she'd been the catalyst, but becoming a cynical shut-in had been because of his choices. He blamed the curse, but in truth, that was an excuse. He'd been mourning and sulking and refusing to deal with how he felt about losing Jack. The curse made it easy not to move on, so he hadn't.

Bella had come to him and said that Jack was back, and that was all it had taken. He'd broken out his self-imposed hermitage so hard that he'd left the life he'd built in Jack's wake in utter ruins, and it felt great. If not for what happened to Janie, he'd have no regrets about any of it.

He'd been wanting to destroy his life for years.

He wasn't sure what he felt about Jack anymore, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that, once again, she'd been his reason for finally getting off his ass and doing something.

He felt relieved but also realized unavoidably that waiting for Jack to come along and push him every time he fell into a rut was a nasty habit.

"Wait here a sec; I want to talk to him alone first," Jack told Lace outside her cabin. Lace found a spot on the wall and leaned against it as Jack went in and shut the door behind her.

Lace was already excited. She'd been called a xenophile in the past, and while she didn't understand exactly what that meant, she was smart enough to infer from the context. Her mind was wandering back to the most intense sexual experience of her life so far; that time, she got it on with an Akula Animist shaman. His totem had been a bear, and he'd been partially transformed. Not much, just enough to grow fangs, fur, and about a hundred pounds of muscle.

Lace had a hard time with most men. She liked to be in control, which wasn't something men tended to enjoy in her experience. It didn't help that she was most attracted to significant, consequential, dominant types. That was the kicker for her. She instinctively found herself drawn to dangerous men, but she wanted to have them submit to her. She'd only seen a few who were willing in her life. What she'd needed was an Asura.

Hearing Jack talk about Quinn had gotten her attention like nothing else. A robust and dangerous man who was spiritually driven to serve? How the hell had she never heard about that before? And where could she get one of her own?

She was surprised at how nervous she was. As she noticed, she scoffed at herself. If everything Jack had said was true, this was as sure a thing as possible. She didn't have to worry about anything.

The door opened. "He's all yours. I'll be topside. Come find me when you can walk again,"

Jack winked as she headed down the hall.

Lace looked at the open doorway with her.

Belita sat on the bed next to the dark-haired witch, staring at the mirror in wonderment. She'd been around magic before. She had her hex bag and a few other spellworked trinkets. She'd even employed a Ship's Witch before to help trick the winds into being helpful. In her experience, magic was a fairly subtle thing that would be easily overlooked if you didn't know better. Even when Bella had worked the illusion that saved them on top of the lighthouse, it had been invisible to everyone but the person seeing it. This was different. Bella had created a window from the captain's cabin into a brothel in Bastard's Bay.

"Aren't you the drunk lady who barged in on us last night?" Tonya asked.

That shook Belita out of her reverie. She laughed. "Aren't ye the girl who came so hard she fell off her chair?"

"Sure am!" Tonya grinned proudly.

Bella laughed. "Captain, this is Tonya, my apprentice. Tonya, this is Belita. She's the captain of the ship we left on."

"You know, I really should have guessed that. You look like a sea captain," Tonya said.

"Please tae meet ye. Who's yer friend?" Belita asked.

The woman next to Tonya tilted her head slightly; her expression mostly masked behind the white veil covering her face from the lips up. "Captain..." the woman said. She lifted the veil and hooked it to her small hat.

Belita's eyes went wide as Janie revealed herself. "Fuck me," she muttered. "Damn lass, you're a whole different woman than ye were last time I saw ye."

"I'm in disguise," Janie smiled, slightly embarrassed.

"Aye, ye are," Belita nodded, standing closer to the mirror to see Janie more clearly. I'm glad you're all right. That was a hell of a scrape we left you in."

"It was difficult at first, but I'm doing much better now," Janie smiled. "How is the journey so far?"

"Smooth sailing," Belita shrugged. Will got into a tiff with Miss Hunter and my Rigging Master, but it's sorted now."

"He does have a gift for finding trouble," Janie sighed.

The cabin door opened.

"Speak o' th' Harvester, and she'll appear," Belita chuckled as Will walked in.

"What?" he asked, seeing the two women sitting on the bed and looking at him.

"We were talking about ye," Belita explained.

"That's never good," Will said, walking over to sit on the bed and start working on his shoes.

Tonya laughed. Will stopped and slowly looked up at the mirror. He blinked, then looked at

Bella. He began to speak, then did a double-take back to the mirror and stood up like his pants had caught fire. He took two steps and touched the mirror like he was trying to reach through it.

"Janie."

The thickly muscled green-skinned man watched her implacably with black eyes. He wore a thick belt and a sarong and nothing else. His chest and shoulders were covered in raised markings, like thin ritual scars in a filigree pattern reminiscent of waves. He exuded an aura of calm, patient menace like a resting tiger. She remembered what it had been like to be in his grip. She'd felt like a kitten trying pitifully to claw at the hand that held it by the scruff. He was stronger than he looked and could give Colin a run for his money. This exotic, inhuman man could kill her without half trying.

"Nice to see you again, Quinn," she smiled.

Quinn said nothing.

"Do you know why I am here?" she asked, walking around him slowly, stalking him and looking over his broad back and bulky shoulders.

"I do," he rumbled.

"Jack said you were all mine," she said with exaggerated sweetness. "What does that mean?"

"I am to pleasure you," Quinn replied.

"You don't seem to be doing much pleasuring so far," she said, coming around in front of him again.

"I am waiting for your command," Quinn said, meeting her gaze unexpectedly.

He was amused.

That wasn't what she expected. Of all the things he could have done, his aloof amusement was the one that threw her off the most. Suddenly, she was the kitten held by the scruff again, rendered off balance and feeling like she was flailing not by a strong arm but with only a look.

She glared at him. "Something funny?"

"Many things," Quinn replied. "You will need to be more specific."

"About me? Is something funny about me?" she said, her voice full of menace.

"Yes," Quinn said.

"Why don't you let me in on the joke?" she growled.

"No," Quinn said, not moving.

"Are you refusing to do what I say?" Lace demanded.

"Yes," Quinn repeated.

"Not a very good servant, are you?" Lace stepped forward, getting closer and looking up into his face.

He met her gaze calmly. "Not to you."

"Jack said you were supposed to serve me tonight," Lace said flatly.

"Mistress Jaqueline instructed that I was to provide you with sexual pleasure tonight," Quinn clarified. "Nothing more."

Lace looked into his face for a long time, then stepped back. "Sterling's right, this is bullshit.

You don't want this at all."

Quinn said nothing.

Lace momentarily ground her teeth in frustration, then shook her head, punched her heel, and stepped toward the door.

"Miss Webber?"

Quinn's voice stopped her. She looked over her shoulder at him with naked hostility in her eyes. "What? I'm not going to stick around and be laughed at. You don't want this, and I don't either. Let's pretend this didn't happen."

"What do you want?" Quinn asked.

"Nothing from you," she glared.

Quinn raised one green eyebrow.

"Look, this was supposed to be just some fun. Jack said you'd be into it. I don't know why I believed her. Things that seem too good to be true always are." Lace was at the end of her rope. This was twice in one day when Quinn humiliated her.

Quinn didn't move. He stood there, waiting, the question still present on his face.

"I wanted you to make me feel good," Lace shrugged.

"Is that all?" Quinn asked.

"No!" Lace snapped. "I wanted you to serve me, to want to serve me, to treat me like I'm a fucking queen, and all you want in life is to make me happy! I know that it's fucked up, all right! I'm not going to force you. It's no fun if you don't want it to."

"That is the amusement. You want power, but only if it is freely given to you. You refuse to take what you want. Your conscience stands in the way of your desires." Quinn still had yet to move. He stood there naked, but somehow, Lace felt exposed.

"What, you'd rather I didn't have a conscience?" Lace sneered. "You want me to fucking rape you? That's pretty sick."

"What I want is irrelevant," Quinn said with a slight shake.

"The hell it is. I just told you it's only fun if you want it to. Why don't you tell me what the hell you want?" Lace snapped again.

"Is that a command?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah. What do you want?" Lace folded her arms across her chest.

"To serve those with clarity of purpose," Quinn said.

"I gotta say, this is the worst foreplay in history," Lace scoffed.

"I do not need foreplay," Quinn said.

Lace looked down at his flaccid green penis and gave him a smirk. "Looks like you're raring to go, all right."




To be continued