The Red Drifter of the Sea (Pirates of the Isles #3) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,27

her face, hearing her moans as he made her climax. He felt hollow.

With tasks aplenty to keep him busy, he ordered men into the hold to repair the weakened spots along the hull. He sent a handful of men to the Lady Grace to assist Keith’s repairs to his yardarm. Several of the sails on the Lady Charity had been tattered by the wind before they had been lowered. He ordered them down and mended. The rain kept him chilled just as his heart felt. He wished he could offer his men respite in the galley and passageways, but with the weather still unpredictable, they had to work while they could. It wasn’t the first storm they’d pushed through.

“Braedon, how do you fare?” Kyle asked as he stood beside the adolescent. “Not too battered?”

“No, Capt’n. A wee banged about, but no worse for wear.”

“Good. I don’t want you in the nest until this wind ceases altogether. The last thing I need is for a gust to carry you off,” Kyle warned with a grin. He was fond of the lad, seeing much of himself in the youth. He and Keith had been barrel men at different points in their piratical lives. He knew the freedom that came from spending his days in the crow’s nest, the feeling of soaring above the world. But he also knew the perils of a captain who didn’t care, who ordered the scouts up the mast in inclement weather. He was harsh with his crew, but he didn’t purposely endanger their lives, and he drew the line at risking a mere boy.

With some time to prepare before the next onslaught, men pitched tarps that would provide them some protection for when the storm inevitably returned. They worked until the grim cloud cover made it impossible to see. Ordering his men once more to batten down the hatches and lash themselves to the gunwales, he tied the wheel in place before tying himself to it. The minutes felt like an eternity as the crew of both ships waited for the new deluge. When it came, it made the previous storm appear like a spring shower. Water washed onto the decks as swells crashed over the sides. The only blessing Kyle saw was that the boat keeled away from the waves, sending the water off the opposite side rather than accumulating on the wood planking. He kept his eyes on the water, trying to predict each surge and how it would hit.

Despite more than two decades at sea, Kyle had never experienced a storm as intense as the one that battered them. It was impossible to tell if it was day or night because the sun or moon was blocked. The sea was slate colored, and he expected Neptune to rise from the depths and skewer the Lady Charity and Lady Grace with his trident. Not as superstitious as most sailors, Kyle still wondered if a sea creature would emerge to wrap its tentacles around the ships and draw the men to their deaths. When he dared look away, his eyes traveled to the hatch leading to where his cabin lay. He may have watched the water, but his mind returned to Moira over and over.

A bolt of lightning struck the water not far off the Lady Grace’s starboard side, creating a phenomenon Kyle had never seen. The epicenter of the strike sucked water into a sinking whirlpool while the water surrounding the site pulsated, driving waves in all directions. The enormous ripples slammed into the Lady Grace first, then the Lady Charity. The ships trembled as though a giant swung them between his fingers. Both ships keeled so far to port that the gunwales nearly touched the surf. Then just as suddenly as the water roared toward the ships, it was drawn back toward the whirlpool. In the next blink, the sea returned to its regular churning brew.

With the next monstrous clap of thunder and gust of wind, two of the shrouds–the lines that supported and kept the mainmast upright–snapped. A loud crack warned Kyle only moments before the foot of the mainsail tore from the mast. It crashed to the desk, the weight of the rolled sail adding to its force. The front of the beam pierced the deck and disappeared under the planks.

Moira!

The beam would have entered the cabin across from the bunk, but he had no way to know where Moira was at the time of impact. He fought the soaked rope with