Chapter 6

Jim swallowed, backing. His legs hitting his bedside table, he gripped around for something… anything!
"What can I say? I'm sorry?"
A hand touched the little, pink blob that hid beneath his lamp. He didn't have the time to think, he just grabbed the little shape shifter and threw.
"Ahhhh!" the little blob screamed, hitting the pirate square in the face.
Elizabeth reeled, giving a howl and allowing Jim the chance to scoot around the nozzle of the gun.
She was still wiping morph form her face as Jim shot across the room, again making a dive for his own pistol. But the pirate's boot came crashing down upon it. Jim rolled just in time see her gun. He didn't even have the time to think, his feet came up and he kicked it from her hands. And for moments it became a struggle of hands and feet, as both grabbed for the gun.
The left claw came out of nowhere, swiping Jim across the face. He gave a yell, his head snapping to the side. It was this that saved his life as fingers flicked the trigger and the gun discharged, barely singing his hair and blowing a hole in the roof.
"Blast!"
The pirate cursed, finally wrenching the gun from his grips. The lamp was flung at her before she'd even had the chance to reload. She ducked but only in time to see the boy dash from his room.

The storm had passed, making the evening damp and chilly.
Pell stood in the darkness, shivering at the breeze that came through the half finished gardens of the inn.
Montressor, from what she had seen was normally dry and dusty. Though, this evening proved an exception, as what was once dust now became the mud that stuck to her feet.
Pell hated mud, it got into everything, on her shoes and clothes, in her hair and worse of all it got in her gills. The dirt road heading toward the inn had become a river in the storm before settling into a slippery mud slide. Needless to say, by the time she'd reached the inn, she was looking a little worse for wear.
And so she stood… waiting.
The dark hand touched her shoulder making her jump.
Two yellow eyes of the panther stared down at her, amused at her startle he bared her a shiny, toothy grin.
"Are you ready?" He asked her.
Pell shivered again, stepping into his shadow and using him as a barrier to hide from the wind.
"I'm ready. Is the place clear?"
Witchpanther nodded, drawing a single claw to which he used to pick his teeth. Like Pell, Witchpanther was never one to enjoy waiting around. Though, unlike she, he didn't seem bothered by the cold. He towered over her, a feline of muscle and thick, dark fur. He was dangerous, able to take off a man's head with the single swipe of the claw. And he so happened to be Lady Elizabeth's favourite buccaneer.
But despite this, Pell didn't feel afraid around him. A pirate he may have been, his loyalties were strictly with Elizabeth. So when she said that no man was ever to touch her slave then he strictly adhered to that and enforced it with the other crew.
Though, this didn't mean that Pell was unable to defend herself. She knew how to pick her fights. But more importantly, she knew how to pick her allays.
"What is taking her so long?" The panther's low growl snapped Pell from her thoughts. He'd shifted on his feet and once again exposed her to the cold.
"Elizabeth said to wait-"
BOOM!
The words had barely touched her lips when the gunshot blasted its way through the inn's roof, making them both duck.
That was their signal, Elizabeth was in trouble.

Jim's feet pelted down the hallway, his heart racing in his chest. All around him the inn was in darkness.
Where to go? What to do?
"Jim?" Sarah Hawkins appeared from her room a face blatant with worry.
"Mom!" little time could he afford to explain as he grabbed her and pulled her into his stride, making a dash for the stairs.
They barely made it to the bottom however, as just then two shadows stepped out from the darkness.
Pirates!
"Where do you think you're going, boy?"
Yellow eyes shone down upon him in the darkness.
Jim saw the glint of a sword and then the hand that reached out to grab him. He ducked, scooting back up the stairs, stopping only short of the tall, black boots that stomped down upon the top step.
The pistol gave a hum, charging… fingernails slowly trailed their way down the banister.
Jim and Sarah were cornered.
"Who are you? What' going on?" Sarah panted through panicked breaths.
But Elizabeth's attention remained focused on the boy.
"James Hawkins." Her hiss sent shivers down his spine. "I have onboard my ship, a friend of yours who is absolutely dying to see you."
Jim backed up against the wall, his eyes focused on nothing but trying to find a way out. There was another pistol in the kitchen, he knew that. The door was just down the stairs… but he couldn't go up, he couldn't go down.
"Oh yeah?" he said, his eyes still focused on the distance between him and that railing. "Tell him, I said hi."
All at once, he threw himself forward, his hands grabbing the railing he flung himself over and down onto the floor below.
"After him!"
He heard the demon's cry as he hit the ground, making a roll before jumping to his feet. He didn't look back, he just dashed for the kitchen.
Jim made a scoot around the main counter just in time to meet the giant panther that came in after him.
Sword handy, the feline jumped the bench with ease and took a swing. Jim barely evaded as he fell back into a chair.
The panther was already onto him, he swung again, the sword coming down to meet him.
Quickly Jim slid the chair backward across the floor, his legs parting just in time for the sword to plant itself into the wood of the seat. Little time did Jim Hawkins have to worry about the close call with his manhood, though, as he flipped himself over the panther's sword and dove for the drawer he knew contained his gun.
Too late!
The blue demon stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
She aimed her pistol.
Jim grabbed for a breadboard, and she shot, Jim's only means of shelter exploding into pieces.
He was left standing with nothing but a smoking, shard of wood.
The panther came up from behind, his sword still lodged in the chair, so he swung both.
Jim ducked, stabbing the feline in the knee with his wood shard before scooting through his legs.
The panther gave a howl, reeling as Elizabeth jumped around him, cursing. Her gun was out of rounds. She grabbed for the sword, smashing the chair it was lodged in against the floor.
The chair shattered.
Jim bolted for the kitchen door but the sword beat him to it.
Missing his head by inches, it stiffly flapped in the door, causing Jim to skid to a halt. He could only stare in horror at the pirate's aim and what could have possibly been his head.
Pirates came up from behind, blocking his path through the kitchen's only exit. He had no choice but to grab a chair, hurling it through the nearest window.
Glass and shards sprayed outward, his feet were bare but little choice did he have as he lunged for the window.
His heart hammering, lungs burning Jim bolted into the darkness outside of the inn. Desperate to find his way back to his mother before the pirates did.

The great tiger stepped from the darkness.
On four legs the cat stood, watching him with two brilliant, green eyes. Morphed, Pell faced this boy alone.
Jim Hawkins skidded, his feet red and bloody from the glass.
He looked so young.
Too young to be one of Silver's pirates.
He was barely out of boyhood.
He went to move, but Pell was already on the defensive. She bared her teeth. She couldn't talk in this form but he knew right away not to do anything stupid.
"Easy." He backed, slowly.
The others had not chosen to go through the widow after him, which was fortunate for him.
Both could still hear Elizabeth and Witchpanther crashing about the inn.
Voices were screaming now.
The people of the inn had all been alerted and there was no doubt in their minds that the authorities were already on their way.
They needed to hurry.
Pell knew her orders.
If she came across him, she was to grab the boy.
But Elizabeth would kill him. She would make him suffer and then Pell would have to watch him die.
She knew the consequences of her action.
To disobey an order from Elizabeth was as good as treason. She didn't stand for it.
But there again, really, Pell was not a pirate. She was merely a slave, a prisoner.
And after all, she knew how to pick her fights, but she also knew how to pick her allays.
"Pell!" she heard her master's call.
The sirens could already be heard on the streets.
They had no choice but to run.
So scooting back into the darkness, Pell left 'Jimbo' alone.

Jim burst back into the inn. The place was anarchy. People ran about, wailing, crying.
The police were here, questioning everyone, counting heads. Was everyone safe and accounted for?
He couldn't see her. Where was his mother?
"Mom?"
He called, pushing his way through the chaos.
"Mom. Where are you?"
A hand grabbed his shoulder, immediately making him reel.
The face of a regular guest stared upon him, and already Jim knew.
"I'm afraid they've taken her, Lad. They came, got what they wanted and took her with them."