“Oh somewhere in the Southern Caribbean,”

Prologue

You and Me and The Devil makes Three

The waters always looked more beautiful at night with the moon’s reflection. The waxing moon cast an ethereal sheen upon the still, inky waters of the secluded cove.

Unbroken by the presence of any fish breaking the surface, devoid of the telltale wheeling and cawing of seagulls.

He would’ve enjoyed the waters more if he hadn’t been bleeding to his death. Drenched to the skin, salt-stained rags clung like a shipwreck survivor as crimson seeped from the buccaneer’s side. A gruesome trail marked his stumbling path o’er the craggy shore, pretty waters now awash in the iron tinge o’ life’s essence.

Ramsey’s weather-beaten hand trembled as he reached out, fingers brushing against the ashen, lifeless cheek of the phantom lying beside him. Selah, his crystal, his light. Her soulless emerald eyes stared back, devoid of the roguish spark and sly mirth that had first pierced his blackened heart all those years ago.

A rasping sigh escaped his cracked lips. Even now, cradling his wife’s broken form, she looked radiant. Memories washed over him. He could still taste the lingering salt of her teasing barbs, the playful banter that had slowly melted the icy wall around his shriveled heart.

“Me crystal…” Carver’s gravelly voice croaked,

Thick crimson rivulets seeped from the ragged gashes scoring their necks, fusing into a grotesque shared trickle that vanished into the churning brine below. It was the most romantic way he could’ve died, his blood mixing with hers, disappearing into the waters which has both nurtured and hardened them.

Selah fought against the leaden haze clouding her senses, her battered fingers instinctively seeking Ramsey’s in one last futile anchor to reality. A lifetime’s worth of recollections surged through her addled mind - his rough growl of a laugh rumbling in her ear, the searing brand of his calloused palm against the small of her back, the way his beard tickled the nape of her neck when his lips found purchase there.

Her face would be the final sight to grace his fading vision before the endless black abyss claimed him, just how he wanted it. She had defended him well, a good lass, always a good lass. But even luck runs out eventually. "I reckon I’ll be joinin’ ye soon, lass.”

Ramsey’s throat strained, thick with the ghosts of a thousand slaughtered sailors who had been felled by his cutlass.

“Good…lass…” he rasped through a wet cough, the ghost of a roguish half-smile tugging at his bloodied lips. “Damned…good…lass…”

God wouldn’t want to hear from someone like him, so he sent his prayer to the next thing out there.

The Devil.

The salty spray of churning waves lashed against the weathered hull of the Greyhound as she sliced through the azure Caribbean waters. Her creaking timber bones strained against the relentless onslaught, every creak and groan echoing the ship’s defiance of the restless sea. Upon her swaying decks, the smell of smoke and gunpowder mingled with the tang of sweat and spilled rum, remnants of the latest plundering raid.

In the captain’s quarters below, Ramsey Carver paced like a caged beast, a freshly-lit cigar clenched between his teeth. The grizzled seadog’s hooded eyes betrayed the ghosts that haunted the depths of his memories - memories of that fateful day he nearly died with Selah in the cave. With every measured stride, his sea-boots thudded against the floorboards.

“For salt’s sake, Carver, that damnable pacing’ll be the death of me.”

The gruff voice sliced through the haze of smoke like a cutlass, startling Carver from his brooding reverie. Sprawled across the unmade bunk lay the lithe, battle-hardened form of Selah Calloway, his wife and fearsome quartermaster. The coarse blanket lay draped haphazardly over her naked curves, tousled chestnut tresses spilling across the pillows as she regarded him with sleepy irritation.

Ramsey grunted quietly, not even turning to face his wife. Of all times for that memory of their near-death to resurface, it had to be on a great day. When the waters were calm enough to navigate without worry, the sun shining, and his brig full of loot they had stolen successfully over the last few days. Now they were headed to Port Royal to barter it away, he had nothing to worry about.

A firm hand alighted upon Carver’s shoulder, snapping the captain from his morose reverie with a start. He turned to find Selah studying him with a concerned yet characteristically impassive expression. A tattered blanket was clutched around her lithe frame, leaving the toned curves of her torso tantalizing bare.

“What’s gotten into you, Carver?” she growled, green eyes glinting with a mixture of annoyance and tenderness. “You’ve been starin’ off into the briny deep like a bloody landlubber on their maiden voyage.”

Ramsey grunted, instinctively averting his gaze from her penetrating stare. “Ain’t nothin’ to worry that pretty head of yours over, wench,” he deflected gruffly.

Selah snorted at his feigned indifference, reaching up to seize his grizzled jaw and forcibly meet his evasive glare. “Out with it, or I’ll be puttin’ you on your arse and beatin’ some sense into that thick skull like I’ve done afore.”

The barest hint of a smirk played across Carver’s weather-beaten features at her familiar threat. After all this time, her fierce spirit and utter lack of deference still fanned the flames of desire burning in his soul. With a resigned sigh, he knew no amount of bluster could conceal his troubled mind from the formidable woman who had long ago claimed his heart.

He was the fiercest captain on this side of the ocean, and he had nothing to fear except the usual. Unpredictable storms, the European government, his wife’s ire, disease…

Except he still feared that night when he and Selah nearly died. The only reason they were alive and (would still be) alive forever was because…

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Heavy knocking startled Ramsey out of his thoughts. The cabin door burst open, the mop-wielding cabin boy stumbling inside with a feigned look of nervousness. “E-evening Cap-”

His act dropped as soon as the door clicked shut. Levi tossed the mop aside and levitated into the air, reclining as if on a bed of clouds. “I knew this place reeked of misery.”

Selah bristled at the intrusion, hastily covering her naked form. “Levi, I swear to God-”

“Ah, ah, ah, you didn’t swear to him now did you? Or else he would be here.” Levi winks, before rolling his eyes. “Easy, dove,” the cabin boy smirked. “Ain’t nothing new to me.”

Levi barely had time to wink before Selah’s fist collided with his face, sending him crashing into the cabinets in a clatter of plates and curses. He rubbed his jaw with a groan. “Whore.”

“Heathen,” Selah shot back, fist raised threateningly even as the hint of a smirk played across her lips.

Ramsey could only shake his head as the two traded insults and blows. With those two hellions around, there was never a moment’s peace on this demon-cursed ship. Yet the roguish cabin boy’s devil magic was the only reason he and the fiery captain still drew breath. Allowing certain…indulgences was a small price to pay.

“All hands accounted for?” Ramsey asks, and Levi gives a short nod, grinning that fanged smile of his picking himself up off the ground.

“"Aye, been puttin’ ‘em through their paces while you were gettin’ yer beauty sleep, cap’n. What did you do to them? Threaten to gut them alive and use them as sharkbait?”

“No need to spill blood meself - just let the dogs think I will.” He flicked the blade in a showily casual arc. “Their runny noses’ll do the work for me.”

Selah emerged clad for battle, lashing back her unruly chestnut tresses in a rough queue. Over her boots and tight breeches, she had tugged an emerald shirt that clung to the swell of her breast, the deep neckline revealing a tanned and sinewy throat. Buckling on a wide leather belt to cradle her cutlass’ weight, she met Ramsey’s eyes with a wry look. “Aye, no doubt you’d have the blighters shivering in their skivvies, you great useless lump.” She jerked her chin towards the door. “Ship’s due to make berth ere sundown. Best we plan our prize’s plucking.”

With a casual shrug, Ramsey rose and fell into step beside her. As they strode onto the heaving deck, Selah immediately launched into bellowing orders that crewmen scrambled to follow. Her first mate barked an acknowledgment, squinting into the briny haze for the telltale loom of shoreline. Gripping the gunwale, Ramsey’s calloused fingers traced a deep gouge in the salt-bleached wood, a contemplative smirk playing over his lips in anticipation of fresh plunder.

“She would’ve never made it in civil society,” Levi mutters, finally standing beside Ramsey after cleaning himself off.

“Aye,” Ramsey fixed his pirate cap as he walks forward. “That’s why I married her.”

Levi popped his lips for a few seconds before sighing, grabbing the mop he tossed aside. “Match made in hell.”

The scorching Caribbean sun glared overhead as the creaking pirate ship Relentless cut across the turquoise waves toward its next destination - the infamous Port Royal. On deck, the grizzled first mate Selah studied a well-worn map while the cunning captain Ramsey looked over her shoulder.

“We’ve enough salts aboard to deal with any hunters, aye?” Selah growled, tracing a path with a calloused finger. “Could take this way 'stead if our navigator keeps sniffling like a wee babe.”

A black paw hit the map, and Selah scowls as the black feline padded right over it, plopping down on his belly with his paws hanging over the edge.

“Levi, we’re planning. We’ll play with you later,” Selah grabbed him, trying to pry him off the map but he dug his nails in.

The cat - Levi in his freakish animal form - huffed indignantly. “I’m starved for entertainment, not my fault!” With a devilish grin, he sank his claws into the map.

“That’s piracy, Levi.” Ramsey reminded him irritably, “You sail the seven seas, you occasionally attack, now get off.”

The feline tilted his head up and smirked, “Or what?”

Ramsey snatched him up with one burly hand. “That’s the life, cat.” The captain hurled the yowling feline overboard to the raucous laughter of the crew.

Selah smirks at that, “Now then-”

“Enemy ahoy!” The shrill cry from the crow’s nest made every salt-crusted ear perk up. Ramsey’s eyes narrowed at the distant silhouette cutting through the cobalt waters - that unmistakable skunk insignia.

“Those bilge rats never honor the Code,” he spat, fists clenching. “Ready the cannons, ye mangy curs! We’ll send those scurvy dogs to Davy Jones!”

Chaos erupted as the skeleton crew scurried into action. Ramsey bellowed orders while Selah hauled gunpowder crates, her corded arms straining. The acrid tang of blackpowder stung their nostrils.

A waterlogged figure shimmered into existence beside the captain - Levi, their resident sea devil, dripping brine and grinning wildly. “Finally, some entertainment!” With a wicked cackle, he brandished Ramsey’s cutlass. “Time to paint the deck crimson!”

The ships closed in, wooden hulls creaking like leviathan ribs. Cannons primed, crews licking their chops in bloodlust. For these fearsome buccaneers, the real plundering was just beginning. Ramsey shared the sentiment for once, moving towards the steering wheel. A pirate was already steering it towards the Skunk ship, and Ramsey rested a hand on his shoulder getting a good look.

The two pirate ships closed in on each other, wooden hulls creaking as the cannons were readied. Captain Ramsey stood firm, raising his hand to signal his crew.

“Fire at will!” he roared. Four cannon blasts tore into the enemy vessel, the Skunk’s starboard side now gashed open. It listed perilously, two stray cannon balls narrowly missing Ramsey’s ship as a third punched through the bow.

“Again!” Ramsey commanded. Three more thunderous explosions, and the Skunk rolled over onto its side, pirates tumbling into the frothing sea.

Seizing the moment, Ramsey steered his ship in for the killing blow. With an earth-shaking crash, the anchors hooked into the Skunk, lashing the two ships together. Cutlass in hand, Ramsey locked eyes with his first mate Selah across the smokey deck.

“To arms! Leave no quarter!” Swords flashing, the crews clashed in a frenzy of steel and spray as the battle was joined once more.

“CHARGE!”

The thunderous crack of cannonfire announced the battle’s beginning as the pirate ships pulled alongside each other, grappling hooks latching the drifting behemoths together. A ferocious roar tore from the throats of Ramsey’s salted crew as they swung over the railings, blades bared and faces twisted in bloodlust.

Selah was the first devil to land, a whirlwind of flashing steel as she lashed out with her cutlass. One of the enemy buckled with a gurgling scream, Selah’s blade buried in his gut before she wrenched it free and sent him tumbling overboard in a spray of crimson. She caught herself on the bulwark as another pirate charged, sun-bleached hair whipping in the ocean winds. Their swords sparked, Selah ducking and weaving with the primal grace of a serpent poised to strike.

Levi danced through the chaos untouched, his twin falchions whirring in patterns too quick for the naked eye. Here he was a blur of spinning metal deflecting wild slashes, there a dark chuckle as his blades slipped past defenses to draw ruby necklaces around thick necks. For this veteran of a hundred raids, the battle held all the challenge of a bawdy shanty.

A hulking brute barreled towards Selah from behind, meaty fists clenching a rusted harpoon. But Ramsey was there first, skidding to slam the pirate’s face with the pommel of his saber. Bone crunched, teeth scattered, and the giant crumpled to his knees. Ramsey hauled Selah back aboard their own deck with a calloused hand. “The hold, lass! Check for captives to liberate!”

Selah’s eyes blazed emerald fire. “You know I will.” Sheathing her cutlass, she disappeared below decks in a flurry of torn canvas and splashed saltwater.

The underbelly of the enemy ship reeked of filth, rot, and hopeless souls trapped for far too long. Bloated corpses choked the cramped corridors, some clawed at by ravenous rats. Shallow, rattling breaths whispered from the darkest corners - here a skeletal woman cradling her stillborn, there a husk of a man watching Selah pass with vacant eyes.

There had to be a survivor here. Selah didn’t want to believe they were too late.

Selah quickened her pace, her boots splashing through the foul-smelling water that sloshed across the floor. The stench of death and decay was overwhelming, but she pushed on, determined to find any sign of life.

As she rounded a corner, her heart lurched at the sight of the bloated corpses and the pitiful, ragged survivors huddled in the shadows. She forced herself to remain focused, scanning each dark alcove for any movement, any glimmer of hope.

In the distance, she heard a faint sound – a whimper, barely audible above the eerie silence. Selah’s grip tightened on her cutlass as she cautiously made her way toward the noise, her senses on high alert. Turning a sharp corner, she finally spotted a figure curled up in the corner, hidden in the darkness, she couldn’t get a good glimpse on them as she stepped closer.