Revenge of the Siren Song (Rogues of Sea and Sky Book 1) Read Online Free

one man she would not defy, so she married the fool. Twice a fool in thinking anyone but Captain O'Malley would be able to lead her men. She saved the fool in the nick of time from a mutiny he deserved. Thrice a fool for daring to take one of her father's ships and go it on his own. He died of his own foolishness.
    When he took his ship to the bottom of the Caribbean, something in Captain O'Malley had died, too, but she kept it to herself. She was ever the mother, lover, saint, and savior to the men she had won ultimate devotion from.
    Bartolo slowly opened the thick velvet curtain to let the subtropical light spill into the cabin. The pale soles of dainty feet protruded from the mass of blankets at one end, a wild mass of glossy black waves cascaded from the other. He knew it was because she once called him brother that she allowed him such unguarded entry into her private corners. She was her own protector and trusted none. Bartolo knew, though, that every woman, no matter how strong she could be, deserved a protector and a champion, as well as a lover and companion. He whispered a prayer that the Almighty would send her a worthy man, and soon.
    Grace tried to curl up deeper into the sleeping alcove. She knew that Bartolo's presence meant they were nearing San Juan and that she must arise, but every fiber of her being continued to cry out for more rest. Her head throbbed with the need of it. She wondered why she couldn’t have been born a man, unfettered by womanly frailties. No matter how or what she had tried, there was no hardening of what was intended to be soft. She knew she was chiding herself uselessly, so she willed herself to get out of the bed and get on with business. The strength she needed was always there when she needed it. Her father's words reverberated in her ears.
    She rolled over to see Bartolo standing in the middle of the cabin, head down, eyes averted.
    “Report.” Her voice was dry and cracked.
    “We are about to make port, Captain. The watch in the nest thought he spotted the lines of the Black Dragon already in the harbor, ma'am.”
    “Very well, leave me my things. I'll be on deck shortly.”
    Bartolo quickly exited.
    San Juan. Something about its sultry air seemed to suit the Spaniards who had settled it. Grace longed to spend several languid afternoons here just watching the rest of the world come and go, but there was no time for that now. Time had become more precious than the gold aboard a Spanish galleon. Every moment they remained at anchor was a moment more for Captain Shireland to further her own plots. Once again information, not treasure, was the prize. She needed to know what the crew of the Ocean’s Whore had been up to while they had been laid up repairing the Black Dragon . More importantly, they needed to know where the Whore would turn up next. She had gathered a few of those answers in Port Royal. She prayed Captain O'Shea's trip to St. Kitts had been equally fruitful. A seemingly chance encounter at the notorious San Juan seaman’s tavern El Corazon de la Mar would be their opportunity to discuss matters and take action.
    Liam sat in a dark corner of the loud and busy Corazon de la Mar. He slowly nursed a bottle of rum as he watched the crowd ebb and flow; though he acted the part of a deeply inebriated sailor, he was being very careful to keep his wits about him. There would be business to attend to as soon as the good Captain O'Malley arrived. But women could be such a fickle lot, and he had no idea when she might decide to show. The warming caress of the rum was tempting him further and further into the bottle, and soon he would not care at all who he was supposed to be meeting. Fate had determined to save him from weakness this night, however, for at that moment the crowds began to part as if a storm were blowing through their midst. Grace O'Malley seemed to be a force of nature that none dared to oppose. She ordered the serving wenches about as if they were her own