"Real life is not a comic book, sometimes you've got to get your hands dirty."

Lex Luthor

Demon Called Deception

Chapter Seven: On Their Way

Silent tears streamed down Rebecca's face, mixing with the small trails of dried blood and healing bruises. A brutish pirate held her arms roughly above her head. The back of her dress had been ripped open, revealing her pale back. The captain of the ship stood above her, glaring down at her.

He picked up a candleholder, the candle having been thankfully removed earlier that day, and threw it forcefully, angrily, at the two men standing by the door. The two pirates ducked, shielding their heads from the shattered candleholder.

"Ya brought me the wrong bloody girl!" he yelled, causing a still crying Rebecca to flinch. "Are ya that stupid?"

"She looks like 'im, Cap'n," one of them replied, shaking slightly. "Just as ya described 'er."

"Then 'ow can ya explain this?" he replied angrily, pointing one thin finger at her back. "She 'as no map! The bloody girl is supposed ta 'ave a map on her back!"

"She was right where ya said she'd be!" the second pirate replied.

"She 'as ta be the girl unless she 'as a twin somewhere!"

"Are you an idiot? Of course she doesn't . . ." the captain trailed off, his eyes widening slightly and a small smile crossing his scarred lips. "A twin, eh?" he asked, turning his attention to the crying girl lying beside him.

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Emory stood quietly at the helm of her ship, the Silent Whisper, her angry eyes following Tristan as he climbed to the Crow's Nest. She hadn't wanted him on her ship again. Not after last time. But, seeing as Jack had taken on Will Turner, his sons Alex and Michel, son-in-law James, and Thomas Norrington, Emory figured the least she could do was allow him back on her ship.

"As long as 'e stays away from me," she whispered.

"Cap'n?" Conway asked.

Emory shook her head. "Nothin'."

Conway looked at her, and then followed her gaze up to Tristan. His eyes narrowed. She should have killed him when she had the chance. If it had been up to Conway, he'd have killed Tristan in his sleep. But, his captain had told him no. There were still too many unanswered questions for her.

He knew this had to be hard for her, having Tristan so close to her after everything that had happened. And now, she came to find out that he was tied to the map on her back as well, something that no one else in the world had, save for Captain Jack Sparrow. Conway could tell, even if Emory tried to hide it, that she had to absorb too much. After fifteen years of living on her own, without being able to trust anyone, she was now being expected to believe every word that came out of a complete stranger's mouth.

Conway remembered how she had been five years ago when he had first met her. Emory had lived on her own in the streets of Tortuga for over ten years, surviving, protecting herself with the weapons she had stolen. She had been cocky, bitter because of her hard life. Conway snorted. She hadn't changed much since then.

But then she had met Tristan when she had first become Captain. At that time, she had seemed a little cheerful, a little happier than normal. For a few months she had been happy, partaking in her crew's celebrations, taking part in their jokes and drinking games. Tristan had been her lover, her confidant, and even her friend. Months later he had ended that relationship by stabbing her.

They'd had no clear idea as to why he'd done it. Hell, they still didn't know why. Weeks after Tristan had stabbed her; he had escaped from the ship's brig when they were docked in Tortuga, disappearing into the crowded streets. Conway sighed, watching as Emory's hand unconsciously went to her side where he knew the scar from the dagger was.

Conway's eyes cut to her face. Her hard eyes were still staring up at Tristan as he stood in the Nest, his back to them. Emory's right hand clutched the wheel tighter, squeezing it hard.

She shook her head, breaking her eyes away from Tristan's shadowy body. "Mr. Conway, take the helm," she said, turning to him slightly.

"Aye, Cap'n," he replied, stepping up beside her and taking the wheel. He watched her walk away, watched as she stepped slowly down the stairs. "God, she's so much like her mother," he whispered. His gaze shot up to the vague outline of a ship sailing in front of them. The Black Pearl moved silently through the water, the sails barely making a noise in the slight wind.

"He must miss her."

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"She seemed to hate him a great deal Jack. I don't understand why you would ask her to allow him on her ship."

"Had ta be that way, whelp," Jack replied.

Will's eyebrows rose slightly. "She may kill him. And then where would you be? It seems he knows more about the map, and everything else, than you do."

Jack shrugged. "She won't kill 'im. She may seem like she hates 'im, but . . ." he trailed off, his eyes growing distant. He shook his head seconds later. "I believe she still cares for him; she's just lettin' 'er anger get in the way. She's a lot like Lor in that aspect."

Will watched Jack's face. He could only guess as to how hard it was for Jack to mention Lor's name, could only guess as to what it was like to see his daughter after twenty years. He didn't know what he would do if he ever lost Elizabeth, or any of his children. It had been devastating enough when Alex and Emily had been kidnapped when they were five. (For those of you who haven't read any of the other two stories, this occurred in Sui Generis, part one of this series.) But to have willingly given up what family he'd had left . . .

Will knew that it had eaten Jack up inside for twenty years, knew that Jack had never forgiven himself for it, and he knew he never would.

He touched Jack's shoulder slightly, a smile crossing his face. "But what if she does kill him?"

Jack laughed. "You, Will Turner, are becoming way too pessimistic in your old age."

"You're still older than me Jack."

Jack stopped laughing abruptly, raising his hand in front of his face, staring at the calloused, but still un-wrinkled skin of his fingers. "Am I?"

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Elizabeth sat calmly by the picture window in her house. It had only been less than a day since everyone had left, but her heart already hurt at being separated from her husband. Although, she could really only be angry at herself because she had chosen to stay behind with Emily.

Emily couldn't leave. Not with her young son. So Elizabeth had stayed, keeping her daughter company as their husbands and family left to rescue Rebecca. She sighed. God, she hoped they would all be okay, that they would come back safely.

"Mother?"

Elizabeth turned to see her daughter standing in the doorway, her light brown hair hanging loosely about her shoulders. Elizabeth held out her hand, beckoning for Emily to come to her.

Emily rushed over to her mother, grabbing her outstretched hand and falling to her knees. Elizabeth placed her free hand on Emily's head, smiling slightly.

"It will be okay. They'll all be fine, they are with Jack," she said, offering her strength that she didn't have.

Emily merely nodded, hiding her face in Elizabeth's skirts.

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Emory sat silently at her desk, her mind pondering what had been said the night before.

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"What are you talking about? How could you be tied to a map that's on my back?"

Tristan shrugged. "I don't know exactly, but I can feel its pull. We were all supposed to be here at this time. We're supposed to see the attacking ship. Perhaps somehow we all have a connection to whoever's on it?"

"Ya mean besides the fact that she's me daughter?" Jack asked.

"And, supposedly, my sister?" Emory replied, her eyes flashing.

"I don't think that it's her that we have a connection to. For one thing, I've never met her, despite the fact that she's Alex's adoptive sister. The only people I've met in this room are you two," Tristan replied, gesturing at Emory and Conway.

"And I wish I'd never met you," Emory answered.

Jack rubbed his eyes. "Per'aps it's the ship?" he offered.

Emory's eyes narrowed. "How could we be connected to a ship?"

"Same way I'm connected to the Pearl I guess," he answered. "I've lost blood for 'er, an' even spent ten years tryin' ta get 'er back."

"Maybe it's someone else on the ship that's tied to the map," Conway said.

Emory sighed, exasperated. "How could so many people be tied to one little marking?"

"The same way yer mother was. And yer grandparents, great-grandparents an' so on," Jack answered.

"The marking is a lot more important than you realize," Tristan added. "You just don't know it yet."

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A loud knocking drew Emory out of her stupor. Her eyes flicked angrily to the door. "Oh for the love of . . . Come in!" she shouted.

The door opened slowly, revealing a shadowed figure. "Captain," he said, his smooth voice tickling her senses.

Emory sat upright, her hand going for the pistol she kept hidden underneath her desk.

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The captain of the Devil's Shadow backhanded her again, relishing as a small trail of blood trickled down her chin from a cut lip. Rebecca's head snapped to her right. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain, willing, hoping, that he would go away and leave her in peace.

He walked behind the chair she was tied in and savagely pulled her head back by her hair. "Tell me where it is," he ground out, his dark eyes glaring into hers. "Who is yer sister?"

Rebecca's lips trembled slightly as she fought back her tears. "I only have one sister," she whispered, unwilling to move her aching jaw. "He-her name is Emily Turn . . . Mathews."

He threw her head forward. "Not her! I speak of your real sister!" he yelled, walking back around and placing his hands on the edge of the wooden chair. "The sister whose blood you share! Don't give me this crap of Emily Turner. I know of her."

"She's the only one I have!" Rebecca sobbed.

He glared at her, but then, he straightened, sudden realization dawning on him. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Who you are," came his simple reply.

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The dagger was at his throat as soon as his arms wrapped around his waist. He grinned down at her, his grey eyes flashing.

"Give me a reason," she said. "Please."

Tristan merely grinned wider. He leaned down slowly, pressing the dagger edge deeper into his neck.

"I can see it in your eyes," he whispered.

"See what?"

"That you miss it."

"What're ya talkin' about?"

"This," he whispered again, leaning in further and kissing the tip of her earlobe.

Emory's first thought was to pull away, to break free of his hold. But her second thought was of how right this felt. Emory jerked away, keeping the dagger at his throat.

"Don't touch me," she said, her hard voice wavering slightly.

"You can't tell me you don't miss this," he replied, his roaming hands massaging her skin through her shirt.

Emory's arm faltered slightly and then straightened again. He kissed her jaw, dropping feather light kisses on her skin. She could feel fire spread throughout her body at his caresses. Her lips parted slightly and she tilted her head back.

Emory's eyes closed for a moment, relishing in the feelings he was invoking in her, but then shot open. She pushed him away, her eyes growing colder.

"I told you not to touch me."

Tristan leaned into her, his eyes never showing the slight pain he felt as her dagger bit into his throat. "You may be a pirate captain," he whispered, hovering over her mouth, "but you are still a woman."

He pressed his lips to hers, softly at first and then placing all of his passion into it. Emory knew she should push him away, knew she should plunge the dagger deep into his throat, ending all of her pain and torture.

But she couldn't. His hands were working magic on her skin. As they had used to, two years ago.

Emory tilted her head back again, gasping for air. "I hate you," she whispered, as if trying to convince herself of that fact.

Tristan grinned, leaning down once again and kissing her jaw. "But you can't resist."

"Unh," she whispered. "I hate you."

Tristan merely smiled against her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down her throat. His smile widened as he felt the dagger slip from her fingers. Those same, calloused fingers tangling themselves in his hair.

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Don't forget about the help I need! The help with what the ultimate treasure is! I hope you all can help!

AN: Okay, I hope all of you liked it. By the way, how on earth do you get the little line across the page to show a new scene? I can't seem to get it to work! It's driving me crazy!

DuTchess of Doom: Ah . . . the way the mind works. I think you might be catching on. You'll find out what Tristan did soon, but she did kind of hint at it in a previous chapter. Oh, and there is more to Emory's tattoo than I let on. It's not just a picture. Hope you enjoyed.

Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

Dawnie-7: Aw. You don't want to even offer a guess? You never know, your guess could be right. And I understand about losing creative juices. Mine seem to be trickling out slowly because of school. Hope you enjoyed!

Arein: That's a cute idea. I'll keep that in mind. And I'm glad that you understand why I had to kill her. Everyone else was just angry! I hope you continue reading!

NazgulGirl: Thanks! I'm glad that you liked it!

Obsetress: Yay! I'm glad someone else likes it as well! I'm happy to have you as a reader. And now, may I ask, was that a guess as to whom the captain is? Even though I can't say if you're correct or not, I must say that I'm glad that someone did. Hope you continue to read!