Heather frowned, scanning the boat. Where was it? Other than the two of them and Ashley’s tote, there was nothing else in the boat. And a ship’s figurehead was huge. She focused on her sister again. “There’s nothing here, Ash.”
Ashley’s lips curved into a tight smile, and darkness radiated from her stare. “You’re wrong.” Her eyes rolled back in her head, the whites glowing red as she opened her mouth. All the life drained from her skin, taking her coloring with it. Her features hardened until she resembled an ivory statue more than a woman.
Her jaw dropped, her lips parting to make a perfect O shape, and the sound that assaulted Heather’s ears was far from human. A banshee wail. Heather shrieked as well, unable to cover her ears from the assault. The hands of doomed souls reached up through the surface of the Atlantic, swiping the air, reaching blindly for her.
Ghosts dragged themselves into the tiny boat, the cacophony of voices all at once deafening Heather’s senses, overwhelming her. In spite of the sun, her burning skin prickled with goose bumps as the dead gripped her arms, holding her steady while her sister’s aura glowed a deep crimson. The glow spread, reaching out from Ashley’s body.
Ashley and the figurehead were one. Davy Jones had bonded them.
Heather gasped when their father climbed aboard the boat, his murky eyes lined in sorrow. “I’ve missed you. Breathe in the power of the Dutchman’s figurehead and we’ll be together forever.”
“Daddy?” Heather shrank back, struggling to silence the screams of thousands of lost souls. “She’s hurting me.”
He came closer. “Stop fighting. It doesn’t have to hurt. Once the figurehead possesses your body, you’ll live forever with me.”
She just wanted the shrieking to end. She closed her eyes, and music drowned out the pained screams. I remember you. Images of Drake filled her head both from this lifetime, and the previous with Lucy, and another, and another. Lifetimes. Before he was Drake, before she was Lucy, their souls always found each other. Again and again.
He’d never find her at the bottom of the ocean. Davy Jones would end their legacy.
Heather clenched her teeth and opened her eyes. “No.”
The ghost of her father took a step back. “She won’t stop.”
Something shone in the shadowy depths of his eyes that contradicted his words. Hope.
“Neither will I.” Heather didn’t know how the figurehead took hold of her sister, but she wasn’t going to let it possess her without a fight.
…
Drake pulled up at his house and jumped out of the truck, jogging toward his dock on the river. Colton and Skye were already waiting by his MAKO 214 fishing boat. If his hunch was right, Skye could be the only way he could find Heather and Ashley in time.
Bale said Ashley was somehow the figurehead, and she needed Heather alive, so it didn’t take a detective to connect the dots. Ashley must’ve found a way to transfer the figurehead’s curse to her twin. If she called on the spirits and dumped Heather into the ocean… Fuck, he couldn’t even think about it. The magic root in his pocket would be useless if Heather was at the bottom of the Atlantic.
“I gassed the engine and we’ve got an extra can if we need it.” Colton held up the red plastic container and tipped his head toward his wife. “Skye’s got her crystal ball.”
As the Sea Dog crew grew to include three females, they each added new skills to the crew. Char and Skye were both psychics with exceptional abilities, and Harmony had hacking skills Drake didn’t understand well enough to explain. Skye’s psychic gift was not only her intuition, but her second sight. Her visions sometimes offered a glimpse of the future, or as Drake was depending on, remote locations.
“Let’s do this.” Drake unfastened the line from the dock and tossed the knot into the boat before climbing in. The engine roared to life, and he opened the throttle. The bow lifted as they gained speed, heading for the open ocean.
“I’m coming, love,” Drake whispered under his breath. “You stay alive for me.”
Skye sat closer to the bow, her eyes closed. Apparently she’d be using her third eye for this rescue mission. Instead of trying to scream over the outboard motor, Skye pointed her changes in direction. Every tiny movement gave Drake hope. As long as Skye could sense her, Heather must still be alive.
Colton stood beside Drake at the helm, watching the horizon. “Your hand is injured.”
“Aye.” Drake nodded. “Ashley stabbed me before she kidnapped her sister.”
“And you haven’t healed?” Colton turned to face him. “What’s going on, mate?”
“I’m fine. I just need to find Heather.”
“Bullshit. You’re not fine.” Colton’s eyes narrowed. “Your eyes are bloodshot. You’re pale, and you’re not healing. How is that possible?”
Drake cut his gaze to his quartermaster. “Heather won’t drink from the cup. I needed a fallback plan in case I don’t get to her in time.”
Colton’s brow furrowed. “What did you do?”
Skye’s eyes snapped open as she stood straight up. “Slow down!”
Drake eased back the throttle. The bow of the boat gradually lowered until it glided through the water. Searching the horizon, Drake frowned. “I don’t see them.”
“We’re close.” Skye turned, looking out at the water. “We need to slow down. Something is…”
Her words faded away as she covered her ears and screamed. Colton grunted, losing his footing. “The banshee… Can’t… Fuck.” The quartermaster dropped to his knees.
Drake gunned the motor. If Colton and Skye could hear it, then Heather must be suffering right now, too. He instinctively brushed the knife handle at his belt. Ashley didn’t have an item from him, so for now, he was immune to her attack. She still had Heather’s ring and the
