"30 minutes, a blink of an eye/ 30 minutes to alter our lives/ 30 minutes to make up my mind/ 30 minutes to finally decide/ 30 minutes to whisper your name/ 30 minutes to shoulder the blame/ 30 minutes to bliss, thirty lies/ 30 minutes to finally decide."
30 Minutes; t.A.T.u.
Demon Called Deception
Chapter Nine: Un-Happy Returns
"You've gotta be kiddin' me."
"I don't know. You look rather . . ."
"Foolish?"
"I wouldn't go that far . . ."
"I look like an idiot. I rob people who look like this."
Jack laughed, gazing over at Emory as she picked at the lace and frills covering the dress that she was wearing. She almost reminded him of her mother, all those years ago. He frowned. Now all he had to do was figure out how he was going to tell her the rest of the truth.
(nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn)
The ball was going nicely, the guests all having a good time dancing, drinking, and gossiping. Glancing around the large ball room, one would never be able to tell that half of these people did not even like each other. They all hid their dislike of each other under masks of enjoyment. He was surrounded by all these fake people and it was beginning to make him sick.
Tyler Adams could feel his boredom rising. He wasn't sure why he threw this ball every year when, each time, it drove him crazy.
"If looks could kill, my love," a soft voice said beside him.
Tyler turned to his wife, taking hold of her hand. "I think I need to get away from this for awhile Sarah."
A flicker of worry crossed Sarah's face as she stared up at her husband. "Where will you go?"
Tyler laughed slightly at her expression. "The garden, Mrs. Adams. It is getting a bit too stuffy in here. I will be back shortly," he replied, bending over and kissing her cheek.
Sarah gave a sigh of relief and smiled up at him. For a moment she had worried that he would leave her to this mundane life alone. She should have known that he would never do that to her. He wasn't that type of man.
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The cool breeze hit Tyler as he entered the garden, his fingertips brushing the flowers blooming all around him. He sighed, wondering, not for the first time, if he had done the right thing all those years ago when he had helped his cousin escape from prison. Obviously he had done the right thing in rescuing her, but perhaps not in leaving England.
The last twenty years had been rough. True, they still lived in luxury, but not as they had in England. His grandfather had given him money before Tyler had left to help get him started, to allow him the ability to make his own life. He had started a trading business, starting with one small ship and rising steadily to ten, doing his business through different ports.
Tyler's grandfather had continued to support him, continued to send him money even after he became prosperous through his business, up until his death ten years ago. Tyler owed everything to his grandfather; his new life, his happiness, and even his marriage. He had been saddened by Jeremy's death and he still carried the guilt of not being able to be with him when he died, nor had he been able to be there for his funeral.
Tyler knew that his grandfather's health had started to turn for the worse when he had received the news of Lor's death. Despite what most people would have believed about pirates, Jack Sparrow had written to each person who had been a big part of Lor's life, although after the letter of her death, Tyler had never heard from him again.
Tyler often wondered what had become of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, often wondering where he had been during the last twenty years. He had considered jack to be one of his closest friends, albeit an odd one. Tyler even worried about him sometimes, praying that he hadn't died or been killed. Of course, if Captain Jack Sparrow had been killed, the news would have spread like wildfire.
"Why is it that whenever someone appears to be thinking of death, they get this horrified look on their faces?"
Tyler jumped slightly, jerking his head up to look in front of him. What he saw there almost made him faint.
"Captain Sparrow-Jack-it has been awhile. You look . . . the same."
Jack smiled slightly. "Aye, lad, so do you. Been busy I see," he replied, glancing up at the house in front of him.
"Business is good," Tyler said, pausing, "despite the pirate activity," he finished, smiling.
Tyler's eyes flicked from Jack, taking in the four people standing behind him. One of the people he recognized as Gibbs, Jack's longtime friend and right hand man. The other three people, two women and a man, he did not recognize. Although . . .
"Lor?" Tyler said hesitantly.
The woman's head shot up, a single gold eye glinting in the darkness. When she looked at him that way, with that cold, calculating gaze, he knew it wasn't Lor, just someone who almost completely resembled her.
"No," he said softly. "I'm sorry, I was mistaken."
Jack placed a hand softly on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. "S'okay lad, we all made a similar mistake."
"Who is she Jack?" Tyler whispered.
"Tyler Adams, allow me ta introduce Captain Emory Wyatt," Jack replied. "Lor's daughter."
Tyler's head snapped up to meet Jack's gaze. "Her daughter? Jack, you never told me that you . . ." Tyler stopped when Jack gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was it that Jack didn't want him saying? What was he trying to hide?
"Can we get on with this?" Emory snapped, tugging at the dress she was wearing. "This is gettin' really irritatin'."
Jack grinned over at her and then turned back to Tyler. "Twenty years ago I sent you somethin'."
"You mean the sealed box?" Tyler questioned.
"Aye. I need it back."
"We came all this way fer a bloody box?" Emory asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Jack sighed. "It's not the box I need love. It's what's inside it."
(nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn)
Will gazed around the ballroom, taking in the many false smiles and forced laughter. He was almost glad that Elizabeth had chosen to live with him on the outskirts of Port Royal rather than live in the center of the town with the rest of the rich and fancy people. Will was also very relieved that he never had to deal with one of these. He hated balls. He hated the fact that people like this would look down on him merely because he was a "lowly" blacksmith.
"Father, Uncle Jack and the rest have come back in," Alex said to his right.
Will looked up; his eyes catching hold of Jack's gaze, Jack nodded his head at him and then tapped Emory on the shoulder. He pointed at Will and then said something to her. Emory nodded, walking towards Will and his sons, Destiny and Tristan following behind her.
"Cap'n Sparrow said 'e'll be back soon. 'E told us ta stay 'ere," Emory said as they walked up.
Will nodded his understanding.
Tristan grabbed hold of Emory's hand, raising it to his face and brushing his lips against her knuckles. "If we have to wait for him," he paused and then smiled up at her, "then, shall we dance?"
Emory glared up at him. She fought the urge to rip her hand away from him, allowing him the ability to play out this part of his game. She almost wanted to burn the part of her hand that he kissed, wishing to make the crawling sensation stop. "I don't dance," she seethed.
"Doesn't matter," Tristan replied, pulling her into his arms and onto the ballroom floor in one fluid movement, completely aware that he was an inch from death.
Despite her protestations about not dancing, Emory managed to keep up with his movements, nearly tripping over her skirts only once. Tristan held her as close to him as decency would allow, one hand staying on her waist. He gazed down into her eyes, a smile crossing his lips at the look of death they bore.
"You look almost like a normal woman," he whispered.
"Give it a little more time and you may look like a normal human," she snapped back. "But I wouldn't hold my breath."
"You wound me Captain."
"I'll wound ya in a minute," she ground out. "Jus' wait 'til we get back ta me ship."
"Ah, but then you won't know any more about the map."
"I could care less about the bloody map," Emory whispered, her eyes flicking to the doorway on the other side of the room, hoping Jack would come back soon. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold off on killing the man dancing her around the room.
Emory's eyes narrowed slightly as she caught sight of three navy officers heading towards them. Her grip on Tristan's shoulder tightened, pulling them closer together, leaving only an inch between their bodies.
"We may 'ave a problem," she whispered.
Emory could feel his muscles tighten, ready for whatever would happen next.
"What is it?"
"Three guards, heading our way."
"Think they know who we are?"
Emory snorted. "Don't know. Have you ever been caught before?"
Tristan laughed slightly. "No. You?"
"Once. I escaped before they could brand me."
He sighed. "Then yes, I do believe they know who we are. What do you plan to do about it?"
Emory was silent for a moment, her mind going through dozens of maneuvers and ways to escape. "I think it'd be best jus' ta get lost in the crowd. It'd be harder fer them ta find us."
"Then we better do it quickly."
"Hmmm . . . agreed."
Tristan moved off to the side, linking his arm over hers and leading her into the crowd. A hand landed on her shoulder roughly, the fingers tightening slightly. The hand spun her around quickly, ripping her arm away from Tristan's. Three guards stood in front of her, their rifles held loosely at their sides.
"I believe you need to come with us miss."
"I beg your pardon?" Emory asked, doing her best to impersonate one of the snobby people standing around her. "What is the meaning of this?"
"You just need to come with us quietly," the first officer replied, reaching out and grabbing hold of her arm.
Emory glared down at his hand, her mask of false outrage falling from her face. "No, I don't think I do," she said.
"No need to cause a scene, miss," another guard answered.
"Oh, I really think there is."
Tristan made the first move, lunging at one of the officers standing by him. A sharp crack sounded in the room as the officer fell back, his head slamming against the marble dance floor. Tristan jumped back up to his feet at the same time that Emory grabbed hold of the officer holding her, twisting his arm until she heard the satisfying crack of his arm breaking.
A woman near them screamed, causing Emory to curse under her breath. She slammed her fist into the officer's cheek, knocking him unconscious. Emory turned her attention to Tristan, watching in silent amusement as he took out the third officer, wiping blood off of his chin from a hit he had taken.
Tristan glanced up at her, a small smile crossing his face. He reached out quickly and grabbed her hand, pulling her to him. "Just like old times," he whispered.
Emory groaned. "Don't get ahead o' yerself. We're not out o' the woods yet," she replied, climbing over the three prone bodies and pushing her way through the crowd, dragging Tristan along with her.
The people around them scattered, moving out of their way. One woman stood still, standing silently with Will, Michel and Alex.
"Go out through the garden," she whispered, her eyes locking on Emory. "There is a hidden exit there. Your companions are waiting there for you."
"Thank you Mrs. Adams," Will replied, bowing slightly to her. "Give your husband my regards."
Sarah smiled. "I shall. Now, go before more officers come. The scream has alerted the guards."
Emory stared at the woman as she left, wondering why she was helping them. No matter who they were, nobody ever did anything without a reason. She lifted her skirts as the door shut behind them, releasing Tristan's hand, careful not to trip on the hem of the dress.
(nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn)
"So, did ya get what you were after?" Emory asked.
She slouched in the armchair she sat in, the dress bunched up around her knees. The petite dancing shoes she had been wearing had long been taken off.
Jack smiled. "Aye. That I did."
"Good. Can we go now?"
"We may want to wait for a little while," Alex answered. "Just to make sure the navy is not out looking for us."
"Can I at least change out o' this bloody dress? I feel completely naked wit' out my weapons."
"I could help you with that," Tristan replied from across the room.
Michel's eyebrows rose slightly at his comment. Jack merely smirked.
"You could only hope," Emory shot back. Tristan smiled back at her, a hidden message locked in his eyes.
"Of course you can change," Jack replied, standing up from his spot on the floor. "Yer clothes are in the satchel by the bed. If you'll excuse us, we'll all go down an' join yer crew in a drink."
Emory watched them leave, her eyes lingering on Tristan as he shut the door. She wasn't sure why, but something had echoed inside of her when she had fought side by side with Tristan, something had caused her heart to pound, and it wasn't the fight. She sighed, sitting motionless for a moment in the hard chair and then stood up, unlacing the dress quickly, allowing it to fall about her feet. She picked the dress up slowly, staring down at the lace, frills and ribbons.
Emory snorted. "How can anyone stand wearin' this?" She threw the dress onto the bed, her hands going to the loosely ties corset around her waist.
She struggled with the strings in the front for a moment, and then sighed. She wished she had something to cut with.
"Need some help?" a soft voice said behind her.
Emory turned around quickly, cursing herself for not hearing anyone enter. "I can manage," she snapped.
Tristan smiled. "I would imagine it would be a two person job to get that thing off. Destiny had to help you put it on, didn't she?"
"I can manage," she said again.
Tristan grabbed her shoulder, turning her around before she could say more. His adept fingers unlaced the corset quickly, the stiff clothing falling to the ground.
Emory stooped to pick the garment up, but was stopped by an arm wrapping around her waist. Tristan pulled her to him, his free hand pulling the pin out of her hair, allowing her long tresses to cover his chest. He snaked his arm around her, effectively pinning her arms to her sides.
Emory's back went rigid as she felt Tristan bury a kiss into her hair.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, kissing the tip of her ear. "Don't you trust me?"
(nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn)
"Mrs. Turner."
"Oh, hello Mr. Norrington. How are you today?"
Thomas smiled weakly. "I have been better. And you? How are you and Emily faring?"
Elizabeth smiled as well. "We're fine. I believe it is harder on Emily. James has never been called away before; this is the first time away from him."
"And you?"
Elizabeth gave a weak laugh. "Me? I-well-I have been through all of this more times than I care to keep track of."
"Have you had any news?" he asked, linking her arm through his and beginning to walk slowly down the dusty road.
Elizabeth shook her head. "No and I do not expect any until they return. Do not worry Thomas, she will be returned to us."
"Hmm . . . yes," he answered absentmindedly.
She stopped, turning him to her. "I love Rebecca like a daughter, Thomas," she began. "But the question is, can you still love her even though she is the daughter of a pirate?"
Thomas didn't reply the sadness and confusion echoing in his eyes answering her question.
(nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn)
"'E may be tryin' ta kill 'er 'gin," Conway slurred.
Destiny rolled her eyes, rubbing her dark face, running her fingers through her ebony hair. "I 'ate 'im as much as ye do, Conway, but ya worry too much."
"I don't think 'e's tryin' ta kill 'er lad," Jack replied. "Not when 'e was lookin' at 'er like that."
"'E looked at 'er like that two years ago, too," Conway replied. "Didn't stop 'im then either."
"She mentioned something like that before," Michel chimed in. "What did she mean?"
"'E shot 'er," Destiny said simply.
"Why?" Jack asked.
Conway shrugged. "No one knows. 'E never tol' us. She's 'ated 'im ever since."
"I don't know if I'd say she hates him," Will said.
"No," Jack said softly, "more like too afraid to allow 'im ta get close ta 'er again."
(nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn)
AN: Yay! I've updated again! I think this is the fastest I've updated in a long time. I hope you all enjoyed it! Now, I do have a one-shot written that does dwell into the past a little. If you would like me to post it, please, let me know! Anyway, I hope you all liked it!
Obsetress: Don't worry. My life revolves around people updating to. I have nothing better to do than to read what people write. I love reading these things. They're so much fun! I hope you enjoyed!
Arein: Hmm . . . that's a very good question. Unfortunately, I can't reveal that right now. I think Emory just has really big issues about him. After all, he did try to kill her.
Dawnie-7: Yeah. Poor Rebecca. That captain sure has it out for her. Just wait until you see what happens next. Hehehehehehe . . .
The DuTchess of Doom: Wow. I think I've really come to enjoy reading your reviews. They are always so long and insightful. Now, on to responding to them: I'm so glad that you like to ponder, because you know I like to leave you guys with cliffhangers. As for Tristan being the key, you'll just have to wait and find out. I believe almost everything will be revealed soon. And this one has more mystery and suspense? Really? I had no idea. I just like to leave people guessing. I thank you. I thought that the quote was perfect for the chapter too. I found that I can't get enough of that band now and I wind up listening to that song over and over and over. I thought those lyrics went along really well. I'm glad you liked the story behind the tattoo. I had to find a way to make him be . . . ohp. Almost gave too much away. XP I hope you enjoyed.
Euterpe: Wow. Thank you very much! Um, no, Jack isn't hiding his age well. He actually isn't aging at all. I should have made that more clear. The thing is, none of the crew on the Pearl is aging. That reason, and along with a lot of the others, will be revealed later. I can't let any of it out now or else it will give away the rest of the story. I'm glad that you like Tristan; he's such a fun character to write! Him and Emory both. I have given some of the reasons for the betrayal out already, but the rest of it will be revealed in the next few chapters!
Kantgetdizgrl: Thank you so much! I greatly appreciate it! I'm glad that you like Tristan. Everyone really seems to enjoy him. But, just wait until later . . .