Anne followed Jack out of the tavern and down toward the docks, where The Discovery was moored, waiting. Once the immense Virginian was in view, Anne stopped dead in her tracks. The ship was enormous compared to the tartan that Jack had owned last. It needed at least ten hands just to hold it, and maybe twelve or more to sail it properly. The anchor alone must have weighed two tons. Jack turned around to face Alex, grinning. “Like it?” he asked smugly, clearly enjoying her reaction to the massive vessel. Anne was clearly speechless, and needed a moment to recover before she could ask, “Where’d you get it?” her tone was quiet with amazement. “That’s what you’re here to find out, isn’t it?” Jack reminded her in a cocky tone. He was sure that—while he was sober—she would be at a disadvantage. But, then again…
He had always had a weak spot for her. He nearly laughed at the thought; ‘weak spot’ was the biggest understatement he had ever heard. He loved her. That was all that anyone needed to know, and the last thing Anne would ever find out. She was strong, confident, tough, and independent; he would slow her down or stop her completely if he told her. She didn’t need him, and it was wishful thinking to ask otherwise. Besides, she would probably just turn him down flat if her were to ask for permission to court her. Even if he did, who was he supposed to ask? Anne had no parents, and the closest thing she had to family was Mark Jones. Jack shuddered as they walked up the gang-plank to the deck; he would rather dance the hempen jig before asking Master Jones something like that. Hanging was preferable to that smug face Mark would have at Jack’s request for help.
No, Jack would just keep it to himself. There was no reason for Anne to know. They entered the cabin and Jack amused himself by watching the amazed and dumbstruck barmaid stare her way around the cabin. He offered her a seat in front of his desk, and she sat down slowly, still taking in the room. “So,” Jack began. “How d’you like it?”
“This is bigger than my room back at th’ tavern…,” Anne muttered aloud. Jack laughed, and she spoke up, “I mean it, love. This room would make two of mine.” Jack smiled, “You can ‘ave it if you like it so much,” he offered, half-hoping she would take it. He didn’t like the idea of her sleeping with the rest of the crew, them being men and all, but he also wanted to talk to Jones. He figured that—if it would give him a chance with Anne—it would be worth Mark’s taunting. Anne shook her head adamantly, “No special treatment,” she said, still looking around. Jack nodded in agreement, ‘Whatever you say, love,’ he thought to himself. He’d do anything she asked, no matter the consequences.
Anne fidgeted slightly, and began slowly, “There’s…there’s something I need ta tell you, Jack.” Jack looked up, surprised, and nodded, “’Ave a seat, love.” She sat, and Jack took his place opposite her at his desk, giving Anne infinite time to gather her thoughts before she spoke. When she did, her voice was quiet, “I-I’m a Dhampyre.” Jack stared at her, stunned to silence. He had heard stories while growing up from the other sailors about hooded black monsters with fangs and human faces that terrorized small villages and towns by night. They were said to be unstoppable monsters with black holes for hearts and a lust for bloodshed. Even saying ‘Dhampyre’ was a taboo guaranteed to kill you on sight, and now Anne was telling him that she was one of these monsters? This had to be some kind of hoax. She even refused to kill an insect, let alone a human or child. He forced all of the horrible images that came to mind away again when Anne spoke, “As far as the ‘vampire’ bit goes, I drink blood, an’ I can’t eat—anythin’—or drink—anythin’—except rum.” She shuddered. “What a combination.” Her attempt at a joke wasn’t lost on Jack, but he still said nothing. A little disconcerted, Anne continued, “I can see in the dark, I’m stronger, faster, better coordinated, and more balanced than humans and I can control people—to an extent. I can’t get hangovers”—Jack glared jealously—“or get drunk. As for being a witch, I can use Majik, read thoughts and interpret dreams,” She paused again, and took a breath, “I’ve also got this bit called a ‘Vampire’s Gift’, but only Dhampyres have it. As long as I remain a virgin, I keep it, but,” she glanced up and then back down, trying to word her sentence correctly, “should I lose it, the ‘Gift’ will be shared between myself and the person whom I lose my virginity to. ‘S all a bit scandalous, when you think about it, but the person also receives heightened senses, speed, agility, and balance, and I just become more…bloodthirsty,” She looked at Jack again, hoping that he would still talk to her after this.
Jack couldn’t accept it. Anne was a Dhampyre; she was dangerous and could eradicate him—and the rest of the crew— swiftly and effortlessly. And, on top of everything else, he loved her. He just could not bring himself to see her as anything other than what he knew her to be: a strong, beautifully complicated and independent young woman, the woman for whom his love consumed him body and soul. Suddenly he didn’t care. Blood or no blood, she was still Anne. She sat still in the chair, looking at the floor nervously. He had to say something—anything—to break the silence, “Anne…” he stopped when she looked up, eyes so full of fear that he fought the impulse to hold her in his arms. Jack tried to steady his voice before continuing, “You can control the ‘blood’ bit, right?” She nodded, and he continued, “Then don’t worry,” he paused again, and then asked, “You wanted a job in the riggin’, right? Then tha’s what you’ll do—run the ropes. We’ll just ‘ave ta make sure the rest of the crew behaves themselves, won’t we?” Anne nodded, and then—in a more relaxed atmosphere—began to examine the contents of the cabin more closely.
*********************
As she stood with her back to him, looking through the contents of the cabinet on the wall, his heart jumped, ‘I love you, lass,’ he thought desperately to the back of her head. She spun around and looked at him, surprised, “What?” Jack nearly jumped out of his skin. “I didn’t say nothin,” he replied, more than a little confused. “Yes you did,” Anne corrected pensively. “You must’ve…I ‘eard it clear as day,” She gave him a lost look. “It sounded like…’I love you, lass’…”
He faltered, momentarily terrified, but recovered sufficiently enough to reassure her, “Well, then that proves it wasn’t me,” he said, and then to himself, ‘I’d never get up the nerve ta say it to your face, anyway…’ Anne’s eyes widened, “Y-you what?” Jack looked at her, confused again. Then it hit him. She could hear his thoughts! He had forgotten that part of her Dhampyre condition included telepathy—the reading of people’s thoughts. Despite himself, he swore under his breath, sealing his fate.
Anne took a step closer, “You did think that…didn’t you?” She looked up at him, a bit of a blush showing on her tanned cheeks. Jack swallowed nervously. The truth was out. Anne knew that he loved her. He swallowed, “A-aye…” he looked into her eyes momentarily and then immediately away again. “Anne, I—…” he stopped. It was no use. The words just wouldn’t come. Instead, his mind wandered over everything he couldn’t say—against his will. Anne was now standing right in front of him, looking up through those luxurious, full, black lashes. Jack had to swallow again. Before he realized what he had done, his hand was positioned beneath her chin, and his lips were caressing hers, giving life to the frantic and uncontrollable devotion he had hidden from her for nigh on four years. Anne wrapped her arms enthusiastically around his shoulders, hoping for time to freeze right at that moment, so she could hide it in her heart forever. The kiss ended anyway, and Jack stammered out in a voice thick with emotion, “I—I love you, Anne.” Anne stared at him, taken aback. “Anne,” he seemed to plead with his eyes, added to by his desperate tone. “Anne—I love you more than words can say. For four years I’ve hidden that…” he dared to meet her gaze again. “Now that it‘s out I can take your rejection an’ be done wit’ it.”
Anne started, “R-rejection?”
Jack nodded, “Aye…” he was avoiding her eyes again, but he wasn’t sure what else to do. “I love you. But I’ve also seen what ‘appens to those poor lads back at the tavern wha’ try ta court you.”
Anne stared at ‘im, “Those curs wouldn’t know genuine emotion if it came righ’ up an’ bit ‘em.”
It was Jack’s turn to stare when he saw the expression in her eyes, “Th-then…you…” It was too much to take in at once. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. How could she possibly love him? Then, he had done it again. His emotions had gotten the better of his common sense, and he was kissing her again, this time holding her as though afraid to let go. Anne’s eyes widened, and she stood stock-still, too taken aback to move. Jack suddenly broke the kiss and let go hurriedly, as though just realizing what he had done. More than a bit red-faced, he backed up a step or two, mumbling an apology, holding his hands at his sides, but with his fingernails digging into his palms, as though that were all that stopped him from doing it again. Anne took a step forward and tilted his head forward to meet her gaze. He quickly averted her eyes, reluctant for her to see what was reflected in them. “Jack,” she began in a soft, sweet voice. “Jack, look at me…”Jack swallowed visibly and glanced in her direction, but then immediately away again. He decided that he would count himself lucky if she ever spoke to him again. She whispered his name again, and he went weak at the sound, growing confidence just enough to dare meet her eyes for a moment more, and then he couldn’t look away. His love for her was reflected in her eyes, and then he deciphered the truth. She honestly loved him. She had truly found something about him that he hadn’t utterly annihilated yet. As if in answer to his sudden realization, she brushed her beautiful lips against his. Without the slightest hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her again and returned the gesture eagerly, lips sliding earnestly yet hungrily over hers. He felt her surrender under the kiss, and it intensified still further as he tried to show her exactly how much he loved her. He pulled back suddenly, afraid he may go too far, when she whispered in a barely audible voice, “I love you, Jack.”
Then there was a knock on Jack’s cabin door, and he woke up.
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