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June 24, 2024

Dark Whispers: Running Amok 14

By Lydia Manx

After making sure she got her purse, Charlotte closed the door, locking it as she exited to keep the riffraff out. No sense in advertising the lack of movement within that bed. Let the crew take their own chances by opening the door. She danced up the stairs. She needed to find a way off this boat without waiting for dawn. This whole mutiny thing wasn't going quite as she planned. But then what in life or death, for that matter, ever did? Nothing that she had anything to do with, that was for sure.

"Lady, you ok?" One of the sexy boys grabbed her on her upper arms.

His hands pressed into her and her mind reflectively pressed into his. No good, he wouldn't do -- he was quite sweet and somewhat innocent. Damn, he wouldn't do at all. It wasn't like she was above slurping down on the local flora and fauna, but there were many more worthy sailors on board. She smiled and thanked him with a smile and a quick mental mind tap. Boom out go the lights. The kid crumbled and she pushed him behind the door into one of the smaller rooms along the corridor. It was little more than some kind of storage closet that Charlotte had stumbled upon in her earlier roaming. There were a jumble of boxes and containers haphazardly lobbed into the room, and now the baby sailor boy was flopped into the middle of the mess.

With the boy safely out of sight, and given the strength of her vampiric sleep shot to his mind, he shouldn't wake up without serious help until a week from Friday at the soonest. Besides, she really needed to find a way off this stupid yacht now. This was all too screwed up for her. Damn boats never worked out how you thought they should, Charlotte grumbled mentally while hitting the deck. She had taken too much time getting down to Barbados to simply cave. Add in that the whole vacation was not working out at all how she wanted it to go -- but hell it was what she was dealt. She would find some silver lining if it killed them all. She licked her lips and thought of the mayhem she could do but resisted.

"There you are," Greg called out. His mind was still too open for her comfort. Damn, she is hot. Bobby is right. I fucking know like she shot that man in cold blood. I watched it, but come on, pretty severe when all he did was try to grope her tits. She has really nice tits. I mean she has to know it. Look at how tight that shirt is across her breasts. So what -- wanting to touch those melons is why you would plug someone in the forehead? Okay, he had my cutlass on the other bimbo's neck. It wasn't like killing that bitch would've caused the end of the world. Sure would have made my life easier. What the hell could Claude have that kept attracting so many hot women? Besides the yacht. God, it was the damn boat. No wonder we were boarded. Hell, Claude even attracted strange men.

Charlotte barely avoided smacking Greg into next week. This was more than a bit awkward, she thought. It wasn't like he knew she could hear his every thought. Smiling, she stepped closer to Greg and said, "Here I am."

"So Claude's busy?" Greg kept his face perfectly still while he was thinking, Busy screwing that bitch, Paulette. Damn he is a horn dog. Why do I keep thinking of this girl, what was her name, Charlie? She is so appealing in some way. So not my type but something about her makes me want to pull her closer and find out what makes her tick.

"He and Paulette seemed to be pre-occupied." Charlotte took her turn. She knew exactly what was keeping Greg glued to her. Her desire for a bit more blood was pushing at her and in turn, him. He was smiling. He was totally clueless what she was. Too little time. But she would make do with what she had available.

She bit her lower lip and said, "I need something I'm not sure you can help me with here. It's one of those things I probably should ask Claude, since he is the captain after all." Greg was hooked after watching her softly chew her lower lip; it was causing all sorts of personal issues with him.

"Well, you know, I run the ship mostly. Claude just shows up on special occasions. Such as when Paulette and you visit," Greg, puffing out his chest, smiled falsely at Charlotte while he completed the rest of his thought in his head -- which was loudly leaking into her brain like he was using a megaphone. Or some other bimbo he wants to nail on the ship. At least this gal was smart enough to leave before he got something kinky going. That set of twins were impressive works of plastic. Too bad my camera wasn't working that day. I could have been off the ship and back on dry land again. God, she is hot. Wonder what she needs. I would like to work on all of her needs and wants.

"I don't know, Greg. A girl has needs. Not sure you know what to do with me. I need some serious help." Charlotte kept her fangs down by sheer will -- that and having topped off her tanks with draining a pint or two from good old Claude.

Greg audibly gulped and was saved by the arrival of another crew member.

"Greg, there's someone hailing us." It was one of the boys she had seen sporadically during the past few hours. He was bashed a bit and had a look on his face of terror. The earlier fight was still in his mind, Charlotte noticed, and there were scars in his brain. The terror was just the creamy center for Charlotte. She edged closer to the kid.

Charlotte could see that Greg was torn between staying with her and finding out if the pirates had come back to finish them off with some reinforcements. Duty won out, barely. There was naked longing on his face as he turned away from her and followed the trembling lad who was running for the stern. Her fangs pricked at her lower lip and she went after them at a markedly slower pace. Her adrenaline was too close to the surface already; she had no need to rush into bloodshed without mentally preparing herself.

To her disappointment, there weren't more potentially tasty pirates coming over the side. Instead Greg was helping a lady dressed totally in black up from the stairs bolted to the side of the ship. Evening wear usually was black and stylish while this woman's attire was more along the lines of daily dreary wear. She moved surprisingly well, considering the long skirt and large leather purse she wielded like a weapon.

"Greg I had to come, it was taking you too long! How hard is it to take pictures of him sleeping with one of the many women? You didn't ever return my calls. So here I am. Where is he? Who's he with if this little whore is here?" The harridan shrieked at Greg, roughly striking him with her bag. Instantly Charlotte saw opportunity while wincing at the actions and words. She knew without question that this was Claude's current wife. And there was a small speed boat below. She had got her lift, just waiting to go back to shore. Tempting as it was to stay and cause more damage she couldn't resist the lure of easy departure. She really hated boats. They always looked like easy pickings but never worked out well in the end.

"Darling, I am not his whore." Charlotte slid past the wife and to the side. She reached out and pushed a stray thought into the bitter older woman's head. Contrary to her usual pandemonium it was fairly simple. Don't get mad, get even. This yacht is community property and if you go below it will easily be all yours.

Her slashed mouth twisted in what must have passed for a smile wherever the level of hell she lived. She nodded to Charlotte very politely and went to the stairs. The black outfit was reminiscent of certain past horrors that had old world charm and lasting pain at its finest for Charlotte. It made her recall some of the evil women in the villages calling for her blood. And how much blood she shed escaping such seemingly innocent women. Shuddering Charlotte waved to Greg saying, "Sorry I can't stay but I think it will be a bit crowded below."

Greg came to her side touching her arm without thought. Stunning Greg, she locked him a tight embrace while clouding his mind. Nimbly she plucked the keys from the pocket of the befuddled sailor. She would figure out which car had been the pirate's once she got to the docks.

"Hey, do you mind if I catch a ride back with you?" She called down to the handsome man who had brought Claude's wife to the boat. His dark skin was shiny in the moonlight. He lifted up his face and smiled. The man's smile was stunning and pure. For Charlotte this didn't look like a bad tradeoff in the least. She really needed to get off the ship before she was forced to do something very bad.

"Sure, lady. Come join me. We will enjoy the lovely night and the calm ocean," his lilting melodic voice was pleasant and approachable and Charlotte waved a final goodbye to the shell shocked Greg. She climbed down to join her new found friend on his vessel.

Greg hadn't even noticed she had picked his pocket because he wasn't used to the set of keys, and Charlotte may have accidentally stroked a few other places in her embrace. Men really were such predictable creatures. Human men at least -- vampires were a different kettle of fish. Barracudas and sharks had nothing on a pissed off vampire. She had left a few in her wake.

Soon Claude's boat was gently floating in the distance. It was then Charlotte caught sight of the name of the craft -- Babbette's Hungry Lover. She knew Claude's nickname for his wife was Babbette. He had named his boat for his wife in a teasing manner that was now going to come back and bite him. It tickled her knowing that the fears of his wife discovering his illicit behavior were actually based in a good self-preservation instinct. Too bad he wasn't going to be able to dodge this one. Hurricane Babbette was ahead for that boat, pirates need not apply. Charlotte laughed, delighted by the knowledge.

"That's what I like. A beautiful woman happy to be on the sea!" Her companion said while pushing the boat to go faster. It definitely was chewing up the miles between the boats.

"Oh, it definitely has been an interesting evening. And you are a delightful man to allow me to tag along," she grinned.

"I am Isaac. What is your name, pretty woman?" He kept increasing the speed of his boat and Charlotte was glad to watch the shore get closer.

"Just call me Charlie." It seemed to work earlier and she felt like a Charlie just then.

"Non, such a pretty flower as you? I cannot call you a boy's name. I will just call you ma petite cherie." He laughed as his island voice made the endearment special. Charlotte found his laughter stirring a warm spot inside her. She still didn't know how to steer a boat so she pushed that cat back in the bag.

Wisely she decided to stay mysterious and quiet. She needed to get something quick to drink once she hit shore, and try to relax again. Her little cruise certainly hadn't helped her vacation much. Damn pirates interrupting a perfectly good mutiny. There ought to be a law against it. She smiled as it dawned on her there were laws against both high seas robbery and mutiny. She laughed and let her joy run over the waves as Isaac simply pushed the boat to go even faster.

Article © Lydia Manx. All rights reserved.
Published on 2006-10-30
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