Port Royal, Jamaica

[Ransom]

Long ago I had accepted that my life, from a very young age, had been a series of betrayals. Some had been trivial, some aggrivating, some anticipated. Two, connected by circumstance, had drastically changed the course of my life. The betayal by my father when I was seventeen cast me adrift in the hard reality of a life at sea. But a year before that event, I'd had another betrayal. The betrayal of innocence and love.

I'd met a man who I felt sure would be a partner and lover to his prospective wife, not an overlord. His kisses were sweet, his attentions gentle. I adored him, and thought my future secure. But when he was presented with a more advantageous match to a much richer heiress, he took it. Three mounts later there was a grand wedding, but not the one I had anticipated. After a month of me refusing to be thus abused again, my father shipped me off to Italy, to spend a year with a female cousin. Her task was to marry me off to the first bidder. She failed, and I was on my way home when the brig was taken.

I had not seen nor heard from the man who had betrayed me in that most callus way, but I recognized his handwriting instantly. It had hardly changed in eight years. When I turned the envelope over, there was the impression of his signet ring in the glossy red wax. I could not imagine what he could have to say to me after all this time, nor did I care. I tore the envelope to shreds without opening it.

"That, you obstinate child, was an extremely stupid thing to do," Aunt Violet snapped.

"The man is married. What possible reason could he have for writing to me now?"

"His wife died a year ago. He has spoken to Rudd. They both want you to return to England."

I felt anger roil within me. "So, I was to be under his suitable auspices. He the proper person to guide me back into society. And then what?"

Aunt Violet's voice softened a bit. "My dear, he wants to marry you."

"NO!" The word burst from my mouth like an explosion."You have no idea what kind of life I live now. None of you do. You don't know what's been done to me, or what I have done to others. But I will tell you this, if I went back to England, I would be arrested."

Abruptly standing, I flung my half-full whiskey glass at the wall. It shattered into glittering shards. Whiskey bled in a puddle to the floor. "This conversation is over."

Aunt Violet straightened her back and her gray eyes were hard as stone. "As you wish, but if you change your mind, call for me at Trade Winds."

I escaped into the dim hall, shoving the door closed with a bang. Emotions long buried — rage, hurt, fear, helplessness — bubbled to the surface like molton lava. With a low, animal growl, I slammed the heel of my fist into the wall, then turned toward the dark stairwell. I had the sudden, overpowering urge to get roaring drunk, or kill someone. Preferable both.

[Aurore Devareaux]

It was a haunting, chill wind that rattled the corridors of mind and soul. The constant onslaught of wave on wave progressing well beyond classification of simple mental exhaustion. The still and emptiness of night lands traversed were but mirror and further validation to current manner of existence. Dunn's semi uneven gait did nothing to inspire him further, it rather gave added verve to the rest; blatantly giving reminder that desired mount was missing in action...One more demon to whisper maliciously to amplify brethren chorus.

Beginnings of The Port's outer laying proximity was achieved and Bookstore was passed without so much as sidelong acknowledgement. Mount trod its' odd cadence closer into what could be labeled as civilization and bearing changed as noise levels increased; traffic following suit. Said mixture of impediment was forsaken for more empty venues of back street.

Location of desired destination rose as familiar silhouette, diligent sentinel rising slightly taller than flanking kindred, and mount was deserted for grime surface underfoot. Mooring point was approached then ignored in favor of another; perhaps such detour would nullify Fate's temptation of encore.

Wearily, back portal was passed through, the sounds and scents of Common drifting back to assault his senses. As if cued by off stage direction, small rumbling in stomacher’s region gave insistent reminder that no meal had been partaken since early the eve before. Body's need did well to cause another log to be thrown on irritation pyre and he moved closer to kitchen entrance to absolve issue.

Serving girl appeared, her expression suddenly given into wheels of calculation. Banter of flirtation was proffered to Beggar Prince with aspirations that perhaps such would allow for delights with meal's delivery. But she soon found that such energy was wasted; his responses came with flat manner...if any at all. Realization set in rapidly that no place would be found in Four Poster's deep ticking and with a hint of regret, she gave curtsy, moving on to secure what was requested.

Sabastian lingered briefly in corridors mockery of lighting then moved to stairwell to gain Sanctuary above. The eruption of glass shatter and door's slam paused him momentum and hesitant step was taken upon the rise. Near mid-point was achieved when flesh to hard surface impact resounded the hollows and trained hands dove into pocket depths to find wood smoothed grips. The thought of returning to Dunn company and retreating to the peace of foothill encampments were entertained in brief then cast away. What he wanted was closure to this night and he wanted it within private holdings above not in the exposure of the wild lands beyond Port chaos. Cautiously, he proceeded uphill climb.

Angry strike of boot heel clamored the upper hall and twined maws of steel render bore on unseen maker, waiting with hunger to roar fury upon possible foe. Said choice of action wavered when familiar face appeared at landing's edged, pistol's lost proper angle, bowing in respect to steps below.

Dark eyes locked with those of lighter hue and the travel of inhale, exhale came to screeching halt....

[Ransom]

When Sebastian's eyes locked on mine, like a lightning strike within the storm of my mind, I saw a quick, clear image of him standing naked in Trilby's spare room. What little was left of my reason told me to push past him and escape. In my present mood of confusion mixed with fury, I was dangerous, both to myself and anyone unlucky enough to cross my path. I had not exected that person would be Sebastian. But my body refused to move, arrested by other emotions demanding to be obeyed. I wanted to scream, or cry, or fight. Instead, I stood frozen in place, every heartbeat thudding in my chest like a hammer. As always, when so trapped, I turned to the only shield I knew — words, and a feigned, forced air of indifference.

"So, Manouche, it appears we have both been involved in a bit of late night intrigue, non?"

[Aurore Devareaux]

Her manner of address harkened back to Kingston and it caught him slightly off guard. Not offering outward revelation to title, Sabastian looked away with aloof posturing, casually disarming steel hounds and replacing them in pocket lairs. Glance was given through brown tress bang curtain, "Pardon, Mademoiselle? I fear I have no understanding to your term of this night and its' intrigues....I have been riding for plaisir."

He dared the incline, stopping when level to where eye met eye was found, "It may be wondered upon what finds you here at such late hour..."

Mental gears turned rapidly as he judged her mindset, there was something in the windows of soul that placed him instinctually to caution. Backing a pace, he stepped around, pausing on landing plateau with fleet sidelong glance.

"I am having cheese and bread sent to my room, would you care to join me? Perhaps I might offer you something to drink...."

Sabastian moved on, unsure if she would follow or not.

[Ransom]

"What finds me here at such a late hour?" I tried to laugh, but it was a hollow gesture. "Ghosts. Ghosts that seem determined to haunt me, no matter how hard I try to escape them."

He returned the pistols to his pockets, then stood back a pace and passed me, heading for his private room — a sanctuary of silk, damask, and incense. The invitation to join him surprised me. The offer of a meal and libations, away from the world, a temptation. I had a choice. Turn to follow him, or continue down the stairs and back to my ship.

Without further word, I turned to follow.

[Aurore Devareaux]

The sound of her foot fall had lost some of its' angry tone, and in spite of what currently harried his inner thinking, a hint of smile tugged at his expression. Once again the keys to hallowed hall were produced, the locks' yielding to proper applications, and portal was opened. Chamber beyond lay in slumber, no low lamp or tallow burn breaking its' inky encompassment. Sabastian stood to one side, allowing her access, then followed behind with swift securing of heavy door; shutting away annoyances that lay outside.

His senses reached out, finding her waiting just to the left of where he stood and he drew near, voice dropping low as if not wishing to disturb spirits dwelling there.

"Mademoiselle, stay where you are and I shall conjure light to vanquish the darkness..."

He lingered long enough to breath deep her nearness, then stepped softly away to hunt down elusive luminations.

[Nimrod Pinon]

“I am looking for a man who goes by the name…Pinon.” The barkeep nodded his head slowly. “And whom shall I tell him is calling for him?” Lilith’s eyes narrowed a bit and her voice lowered. “Tell him the letter which he waits for is finally here…and that Lord Darnley sends his regards.”

“Is that so?” Pinon asked as he entered the tavern and walked up behind Lilith. The tall dark figured waited for the woman to turn to face him. She glanced up at him when she did, Pinon towering over her. Chilling blue eyes locked on her own, then traveled down her form until corner of parchment was spied then plucked from its hidingplace. “Mine I believe.” But he did not break the seal, nor read its contents in the open air of the public room. “Come along with me Mistress. I do believe payment is in order. And there are some things we need to discuss.” Pinon lead the way upstairs.

[Ransom]

...His senses reached out, finding her waiting just to the left of where he stood and he drew near, voice dropping low as if not wishing to disturb spirits dwelling there.

"Mademoiselle, stay where you are and I shall conjure light to vanquish the darkness..."

He lingered long enough to breath deep her nearness, then stepped softly away to hunt down elusive luminations.

For the brief instant he stood next to me, I detected the scents of leather and horse, and, surprisingly, the sea. I was not fool enough to believe his noturnal ride was one of pleasure, but knew better than to ask him it's true nature. I could guess well enough. Besides, at the moment, I was not interested in where he had been.

I almost wished the room could remain in darkness. In that isolation, I might have time to come to terms with the offer my aunt had transported all the way from England. Two offers, really — one tempting, one longed for. Both so very out of reach.

Warm light bloomed. My isolation gone. And there was Sebastian.

[Nimrod Pinon]

As upper landing was conquered, Pinon tossed a transitory glance at the now vacant room flanking his. Fitting to strangle his prey? Yes but fingers could have all too easily pointed in his direction and that would have required more time than was necessary to cover up such a foolish effort. What a waste that would have been, especially now that his morning ride had proved so fruitful. He entered his own room, tossing hat and gloves upon the bed. Small satchel of common colored clothing was dropped to the floor and temporarily kicked beneath the bed. He gestured to a solitary chair for his guest to claim, then moved to the window. Seal was crushed and letter opened. As he read it, a large smile tugged with success at the corners of his lips.

“Has Lord Darnely relayed any of its contents to you prior to sailing?” Pinon asked as Lilith made herself comfortable, muddy shoes placed upon room’s table top. “Delightful as ever,” Pinon grunted with a scowl. Still the sex later would be. Lilith always aimed to please.

[Lilith]

Lilith watched as Pinon perused the letter that Lord Darnley had delivered into her care. Pinon’s face gave way to a series of dramatic changes. His eyes became larger with every line, every word filled with anticipation. She too smiled. Pinon was a man that told very little by voice, but told much by expression.

“No, Lord Darnley did not. But he did tell me to make sure that I get all my money from you before I leave this God forsaken place.” Her hand slowly dropped to her waist where a dirk laid concealed beneath her coat. “You have your letter, Sir. I wish for my money.”

[Aurore Devareaux]

For the brief instant he stood next to me, I detected the scents of leather and horse, and, surprisingly, the sea. I was not fool enough to believe his noturnal ride was one of pleasure, but knew better than to ask him it's true nature. I could guess well enough. Besides, at the moment, I was not interested in where he had been.

I almost wished the room could remain in darkness. In that isolation, I might have time to come to terms with the offer my aunt had transported all the way from England. Two offers, really — one tempting, one longed for. Both so very out of reach.

Warm light bloomed. My isolation gone. And there was Sebastian.

Twin tallow were brought to life, one left in placement upon mantle, the other accompanied by rare elixir decanter, to table surface. Stunted vessels were retrieved and filled, both balanced in one palm as Sabastian returned to where she had held ground. He came near, but not over so...Much as a wolf longing to gain proximity, but wary of doing what it desired. He said nothing at first, dark eyes attracted to the play of golden glow and shadow upon her face. Another step forward was taken and elixir proffered, his tone mimic of smoke tendrils drifting upward of flame dance behind.

"Perhaps this might ease your soul...."

One of two was taken, and he continued to watch briefly before stepping away to armoire’s stately form. Steel hounds were removed from woolen dens and placed upon small chest, coat was the next to go followed by riding boots. There was pause in motion, as though some secondary thought had come to the forefront; finalized by the casting off of stockings and the release of shirttail from britches claim. Vessel's content was drained as he returned to main table's reign of the chamber; another filling followed.

Sabastian stood with eloquated carriage, a contardiction to current state of loose adornment, and glanced to where she remained.

"Perhaps you would wish for chair's comfort?...."

[Ransom]

I took the glass he offered, and savored a taste of its contents. "Ease my soul? No, my dear Sebastian, I doubt anything could do that at the moment. Besides, we should be celebrating. After all, I've just been offered a proposal of marriage."

I gave him a salute with the glass, downed what remained, and held out the glass for a refill.

[Nimrod Pinon]

Lilith watched as Pinon perused the letter that Lord Darnley had delivered into her care. Pinon’s face gave way to a series of dramatic changes. His eyes became larger with every line, every word filled with anticipation. She too smiled. Pinon was a man that told very little by voice, but told much by expression.

“No, Lord Darnley did not. But he did tell me to make sure that I get all my money from you before I leave this God forsaken place.” Her hand slowly dropped to her waist where a dirk laid concealed beneath her coat. “You have your letter, Sir. I wish for my money.”

“Since when have I not paid you?” Pinon asked, slightly irked by her tone. He closed the letter and moved to a trunk at the foot of the bed and unlocked it. From the safety of the chest he withdrew a small bag, muffled tingle betraying the containment of coin. Carefully letter appeared to be transferred in exchange and now locked within the dark confines of heavy iron bound chest. Pinon tossed the bag onto the table by Lilith’s feet. He straightened. He looked her over, her gruff demeanor had grown more boorish with time and he suddenly found himself thinking about the barmaid with the plump posterior.

[Aurore Devareaux]

I took the glass he offered, and savored a taste of its contents. "Ease my soul? No, my dear Sebastian, I doubt anything could do that at the moment. Besides, we should be celebrating. After all, I've just been offered a proposal of marriage."

I gave him a salute with the glass, downed what remained, and held out the glass for a refill.

Her statement caught him far more off guard than her initial addressing on stairwell. Veiled glance fleeted to her then to the decanter as he worked to remain composed. Inwardly his confusion soared as to why it should even be an issue....But, it was nevertheless. On some sub terrain level, he was most unsettled by announcement.

Casually he finished second round of Oriental fire and refilled again. Not thinking, Sabastian crossed the room's length and proffered his own vessel to her.

The word "marriage" formed on his lips, but was never given voice.

[Ransom]

I took his offered glass, our hands touching briefly. A spark of heat flared. In the rational part of my mind, I took in his casual state, and savored it. Despite his attempt to hide it, I could see my blatant announcement had surprised him. It was a confession of his own, and secretly I relished it. But I was in a perverse mood, and too angry to stop myself.

"Oh yes, a proposal brought all the way from dear old England. As I said, I am persued by ghosts. I feel in need of an exorcist. Are you well versed in banishing demons?"

[Nimrod Pinon]

He straightened. He looked her over, her gruff demeanor had grown more boorish with time and he suddenly found himself thinking about the barmaid with the plump posterior.

"Do try to spend it wisely... oh ... and before you leave. You were to take and scuttle one or two merchant ships on your trip from home, were you not? Did you take their papers as you were instructed as well as enough cargo to damn even him?" Pinon asked holding out his hand. "After all that was part of the agreement." Hand remained unfulfilled and he leaned down over her shoulder, close to her ear. "Papers? Dutch papers? You do recall?"

[Aurore Devareaux]

His eyes narrowed slightly to elaboration on proposal, joined by the merest hint of feral smile in response to her query. Sabastian moved to decanter's repose, realizing that vessel remained in Ransom's possession. Snatching carved glass tower, he returned and refilled concave want. Decanter was placed on planking underfoot; long fingers surrounding her own and the object they clasped. Brought up for savored draught, her hands were kept in his capture...

"There are may things that I am well versed in, Mademoiselle...."

[Ransom]

Heat flared hotter. I met his dark eyes, a new storm brewing within my body. "We have sanctuary, we have incense, we have wine." I took a sip from the glass. "I am in want of rites of sacrifice."

[Aurore Devareaux]

One brow raised a fraction, feral smile widened and gained more carnal hues. He waited as elixir was deserted then gently plyed vessel from her grasp. It was then, in turn, emptied and cast aside to bounce the flooring.

"As you wish, Mademoiselle..."

Practiced fingers deftly found the boundaries of outer coat and made quick work to render it useless; the second castaway exiled to Persian terra. Moving forward, one hand travelled to the base of her skull, intertwining the ruddy tress, while the other encircled slim waist and pulled insistantly until cloth lay as only fortitude to flesh concealed. Leaning in, the hollow of her neck was found and sampled for flavor.

[Ransom]

It was rage, but of another kind. It had been a long time since I had let all barriers down, all resistance abandoned. With eager fingers I clutched at the fabric of his shirt and pulled it over his head, bareing his muscled chest. Then I dropped my hands and unbuckled my own belt and let leather and weapon fall. All the while, his lips explored my neck, my collarbone. Then, like one dying of thirst, I sought his mouth.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Her want was answered with vigor and as their lips joined, it was as if oxygen had been given to one deprived. Slipping under now unhindered linen, left hand ventured the gentle curves of mid-back then pulled her tighter still. Right hand dropped from skull cradle, venturing slowly lower and kiss was broken off. As if trying to ponder the mysteries of the universe, Sabastian trapped her eyes with his own then backed away just enough to free linen hindrance.

[Ransom]

It was as if my clothing were a form of shackle. They must come off. I must be free. And so I was, a bit of breathless humor as I sat in previously offered chair and Sebastian pulled off my boots. From that point on, nary a breath could have come between us. All ghosts forgotton. All attention focused on sensations of pure joy.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Second boot joined fallen compadres; lost children in crumpled heaps, scattered afore the wind. Tender skin of stomach domain was nuzzled briefly as quick glance was given to her expression. Raising from knee support, Sabastian balanced on balls of feet, bringing her close, arms wrapped around her waist as her own found his neck. With dancers grace he rose, bringing her aloft. Once more, he drank deep the succulence of her lips and without truly needing to obtain visual bearing, edge of table was found and what lay near upon it, joined the land of the lost.

[Ransom]

A bowl of fruit went tumbling to the floor, cutlery joined them, and one of the glasses rolled across the carpet, leaving a stain of crimson. Clothing and boots lay flung about as if a hurricane had entered the room. Only breeches were left for each to discard. With feral grin, and my eyes locked on his, I let my hands fall in slow carress to last vestige of barrier. From this point on, the hurricane would be within us. There would be no safe harbor, for none was desired.

[Lilith]

Did you take their papers as you were instructed as well as enough cargo to damn even him?" Pinon asked holding out his hand.  "After all that was part of the agreement."  Hand remained unfulfilled and he leaned down over her shoulder, close to her ear.  "Papers? Dutch papers? You do recall?"

Pinon was an patronizing fool. She cast a look upward as his hand still hovered over her shoulder. “What?! Do you think I would keep them on my person? I am much smarter than that, Pinon. Or do I need to remind you of our last encounter?” Once again her eyes narrowed as she slowly pushed his hand way from her face.

It was then she drew her legs down from the desk and turn towards the dark figure. “The Dutch papers are safe, that much I can tell you. Why don’t you bring yourself to the Tartarus tonight to collect them?” She said with a smile. “Perhaps we can catch up on what time has passed between us.” She watched Pinon’s eyes dart from side to side. “I do plan to be in Port Royal for at least a fortnight. If you are interested, I shall be there.” She stood straight and tall in front of Pinon waiting for his reply.