O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,315

arse about anything else. If she was willing to accept him, he’d drop to his knees and thank the good Lord above for a second chance at a life with her.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Captain Horace shook his head with a heavy sigh. “I’d hoped for better since Augusta and Dax assured me ye were stupid as a stone.”

Nabbers bared his teeth and screeched.

“Aye, Nabbers,” Captain Horace soothed as he stroked the little beast’s head. “He’s nay to be ours. This one’s pulled his head free of his bunghole.”

“So, I can change this? It’s not too late for me to make amends?” Tait clutched Ellie closer, praying what he hoped might not yet be.

Captain Horace pulled his pistol from his belt and aimed it at Tait’s chest. He winked. “I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Then he fired.

Chapter Three

He opened his eyes to the light of a new day. Both hands went to his chest. No blood. No pain. Tait shifted higher in the chair, then scrubbed both hands down his face. What a night. What drink-induced nightmare. Maybe. A fearsome doubt nudged him. What if none of it had been a dream? What if it had all been real? What if the pirate ghosts were a warning from a higher power?

Deafening silence filled the room. It closed in, threatening to smother him. He shot to his feet and strode to the windows. The storm had passed, leaving behind a frozen world that sparkled fresh and new. Sight of the pristine bay covered in ice and snow calmed him. He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out. Aye, last night had just been a terrible series of nightmares. This was real, an icy winter’s day at the Cove.

A deadly screech pierced the silence. Chills raced across him, standing every hair on end. That damn monkey had returned. He spun around. The room was empty. He worked his jaw and massaged his temples, trying to pop his ears. Breath held, he listened harder. Blessed silence had returned. Aye, he’d just imagined that eerie sound. ’Twas merely a remnant from the bad dream. And then he smelled it. The raunchy stench of that nasty, flea-bitten animal from hell. The room reeked with it.

“Be gone!” he roared as he threw open every window.

A rap on the door made him jump and turn around.

Tait swallowed hard, fighting a leeriness bordering on full-blown fear that his mind was leaving him. “Enter,” he called out.

The door eased open, and Kip, his trusted cabin boy, backed into the room, maneuvering a large tray through the doorway. “Cook sent up a fine breakfast for ye, Cap’n.” He turned and held out the tray, looking as though he was about to feed a raging beast and feared he wouldn’t survive the task. “And here’s a special whisky she got just for today. Weren’t that kindly of her? Helping ye celebrate Yule like that?” Surrounded by several plates overflowing with food sat Captain Dax Willet’s jug.

Tait choked, coughing and gasping as he backed away. He couldn’t breathe. Instead, he felt the toxic liquid fire consuming him. He waved Kip away. “Take it! Take it away! Now!”

“Cap’n?”

“Get it out of here! Take it! Now!”

“Aye, sir.” Kip hurried back out the door, then paused in the hallway. “Want I should leave behind the whisky? Mr. Hobbs said ye be out of all yer stock.”

“Hell no! Take that jug and bury it!” Weak as a half-drowned man, Tait sank into his chair and held his head, covering his face with both hands. What the hell was happening? Last night couldn’t have been real.

“Aye, sir,” Kip said quietly. The plates clattered and clinked as he clicked the door shut.

The monkey. The jug. Tait lifted his head and opened his eyes, already knowing what he would find. Sure enough, Pirate Queen Augusta Santorini’s staff leaned against the fireplace. The ruby gem glimmered in the sunlight with an evil wink.

It had all happened. Not a dream. Not a hallucination brought on by drink. But a true warning from a higher power—some relentless Yuletide god determined to give him a none too subtle shove down the path he should take.

“I believe,” he confessed to the ruby. “And I will make this right by dear sweet Ellie. I swear it.” The staff disintegrated into a pile of ash and blew into the hearth. Tait snorted, not a bit surprised.

He hurried to the window, calculating the sun’s position and how much of the day