A Pirate Calling
Chapter Thirteen: Protection
Fay stared out of the kitchen windows, absentmindedly stroking the charm on the necklace from her father, watching the rain pelt the glass. The storm outside raged. From what they had told her, it had started soon after Fay impaled her friend on an antique sword. This was just fantastic. All she needed now was to be struck by lightning and her day would be complete.
Her mother had called the night before letting her know that were not going to be able to make it back with the storm. They had only driven an hour or so out to a party for one of her co-workers, but the rain and wind held them back. Not even a seasoned Floridian would go out in this weather.
"You are not at ease."
Fay jumped at the voice. Fatima sat behind her at the kitchen table. How she got there without Fay hearing, she would never know.
"You must be psychic," she said dryly.
Fatima simply smiled. "You should put it from your mind, my dear. You will be safe," she paused. "At least for now."
Fay slumped into the seat across from the older woman. "You have a wonderful way of comforting someone."
"It is difficult for me sometimes," Fatima replied, nodding. "It is hard to lie about what I see."
Fay's brows furrowed. "See?"
"Yes. I am somewhat . . . pre-cognitive. Somewhat limited. I cannot see anything dealing with myself."
"So you're saying you're psychic."
"Do you find that so hard to believe?" Fatima asked, her head cocked. "After you witnessed your friend transform before you, met a three hundred year old man, and been possessed yourself, do you really find my being psychic difficult to grasp?"
Fay turned her eyes away. The cabinet across from her was becoming vastly entertaining. "This is new to me, you know? I've spent my life living one reality only to find out its wrong. The person I thought was my best friend turned out to be some demented heathen goddess that despises my family. You're lucky I haven't had a complete mental breakdown."
Fatima smiled again. "At least you have someone to help you through this."
Fay stared at her quizzically. "Who? Galvin or Sparrow or whatever?"
Fatima nodded. "He has seen, and been through, much. Allow him to help you."
After a slight pause, Fay replied, "What choice do I have? You've already seen it, haven't you?"
"You . . . are difficult to see sometimes. I have seen much of your future to know you need our help; but there are black areas. I have never had this happen before. I am not sure why you would be different from any other person," she paused. "I have seen that you allow Jack to help you at certain times. And then there are times where he is gone and you are alone."
"Alone?" Fay asked softly.
Fatima met Fay's eyes, sadness radiating from her gaze. "I do not know if you are completely alone, my dear. I just do not see-oh. Jocard is here."
Fay drew back, confused. "What?"
"Please go get Jack. He will want to greet Jocard. He should be up in the attic."
And with that Fatima left, leaving a confused Fay to stare after her.
"What is he doing?" Angie asked. She was watching the tall black man moving around the yard, placing little items here and there and talking to himself, seemingly oblivious to the rain.
"He is placing charms and wards around the house. It is to protect all of the house's inhabitants. Anyone who means us harm will not be allowed to enter."
Angie turned to Fatima, stunned. "Wait. You mean that stuff is actually real?"
"Yes."
Angie turned back to the man outside the window. "Awesome."
Fatima smiled. At least one of the sisters would not be difficult to convince.
Jack heard the ladder creak moments before Fay's head popped up from the opening. Family records were resting in his lap, one page caught between two fingers, but his attention was not on the book. His face was turned up to the ceiling, his eyes closed, listening to the rain as it pounded on the roof.
Despite the fact that he knew the storm was caused by Calypso in her rage, Jack couldn't help but relish in the sound of the drops hitting the tiles. He loved the sound of rain. He enjoyed the memories it invoked. It would even lull him to sleep if he allowed it.
"Jaco-Jack?" he heard her call.
He made no move to acknowledge her.
Fay walked closer to him. She reached out to him slightly but then pulled back. "Jack?"
Before she could blink, Jack pushed the book from his lap, twisted on his knees and pulled her down. Shock made Fay's reflexes slow. The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the floor, Jack's arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand cradling the back of her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek.
His face was so close to hers. Fay had the urge to just lift her head a little, just a breath, to catch his lips with her own. But his conversation on the phone the night before, the woman's call, stopped her.
"Haven't we been here before?" he whispered.
Fay scowled. "Always your fault."
Jack smirked. "I have to admit I do like the view," he said, his gaze roaming up and down. "We must meet here more often."
"In your dreams."
He pursed his lips and shrugged slightly. "Maybe."
Jack leaned down, his lips barely brushing hers. The brief contact sent tingles down her spine. She clenched her fists, fighting the need to pull him closer.
"Someone's here for you," she whispered as he pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips.
"I can meet them later," Jack muttered.
Fay closed her eyes in concentration. "Fatima said his name is Jocard."
In an instant Jack was on his feet and pulling Fay to hers. He pulled her to him, her hand still in his, his other hand resting on the small of her back. "We always seem to get interrupted."
Fay glared at him. "I never told you to start in the first place."
"And yet-"
"Don't you dare say I wanted it," Fay snapped, stopping him.
Jack's eyes narrowed slightly. "Fay." It was a statement, nothing more.
Fay broke away, pushing against his chest with her free hand. "You should go talk to your friend."
Jack grabbed hold of her arm before she could walk down the ladder. "Jocard can wait. We need to talk."
"There is nothing to talk about."
"Yes, there is. You have said nothing about what happened last night. Everything that happened, everything that we talked about," he snapped. "You told me to leave before we could really discuss any of it."
Fay kept her gaze averted. "I'm not sure if I can trust anything you say," she replied.
Jack flinched imperceptibly. "Everything I have told you is the truth."
Her gaze finally snapped to his. "Your version of it."
"I have told you everything I know. Trust me on that."
"You have lied to me since we met!" Fay spat, leaning in close. "You lied about who you are, what you know. You kept things hidden from me; things that you said I didn't need to know yet. Well guess what? I sure as hell need to know the rest of it now."
Jack stayed still. He refused to back down. Watch her Jack, Fatima's words from the night before echoed in his mind. He cannot be controlled for much longer. "I explained everything to you last night. There's nothing else to tell you."
"How about explaining why this is happening to me? How about explaining why the woman I thought was my friend hates me and tried to kill me?" She was trembling. It seemed as if she were about to explode with anger.
Jack stared at her. Anger raged in her eyes. Anger and hurt. Fay's eyes flashed blue for an instant, and in that instant he saw her arm rise, her fist clench.
Jack felt the punch hit his cheek seconds later. His head jerked to the side. He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head to stop the room from spinning. When at last his vision cleared he found Fay being held back by strong brown arms.
"I 'ave never seen such red auras," a thick Cajun voice said. "So much anger."
Jack touched his cheek tenderly. Fay was rigid in the other man's grip; her entire body stressed. She was hiding fear. Her eyes had returned to their normal grey hue. "You can let her go Jocard," he said, wincing when the pain in his cheek increased as he spoke. "I'm fine."
Jocard's eyebrows rose in a question, but he let her go nonetheless. "Whatever you say, mon ami."
Fay staggered away from Jocard.
"Are you alright?" Jack asked her.
"Shouldn't she be askin' you that?" Jocard asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "She be the one that hit you."
Fay's eyes shot to Jack's, to the red welt on his cheek. She took a step closer to him, her arm rising slightly as if to touch the mark, but then stopped. "What is he talking about?"
Jack studied her. "I didn't think you would remember," he murmured.
"What are you talking about?" she asked Jack.
"Jocard," Jack said, ignoring her question. "What do you see when you look at her?"
Jocard turned his attention to Fay, studying her for a few moments. "I see two auras," he finally replied. "One slightly more subdued than the other. But they seem to be joinin', mergin' together."
He walked closer to Fay, one hand hovering in front of her face. "I have never seen anythin' like this," he muttered.
Fay stared at the palm of his hand, at the intricate tattoos there. He was insane, that was the most she could tell about him.
"What are you talking about?" she repeated.
"You are one side of a coin mon chere," Jocard replied. "The question now is who is on the other side? Who is hidin' within you?"
"That's what we need to figure out," Jack put in. "I'll need your help finding that out, since you're the best at it. What with your knowledge of the arcane and all."
Jocard turned to him, one brow arched. "You know more than I do," he responded. "You were the one cursed after all."
Jack glanced at Fay who stared at them, puzzled. "Oh, please," she said. "Don't stop on my account. I'll just be downstairs."
"Fay," Jack started as she began to descend the ladder. Her look stopped him. She was not going to be argued with.
Fay turned away and disappeared. Neither of them spoke until her footsteps stopped.
"Spirited, isn't she?" Jocard asked.
"You have no idea."
"Tell me something."
"Hmm?" he replied, his eyes still glued to the ladder.
"How did one tiny girl get the drop on ol' Cap'n Jack?"
"That's just it Jocard," Jack replied. "I don't think she's just one tiny girl. There's someone else inside her; someone that I have to figure out how to stop."
Jocard put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "No, my friend. We have to find out. I fear her life might depend on it."
Jack nodded absentmindedly.
Jocard narrowed his eyes. "You know who it is."
Jack lifted his hand, the silver pendant from Fay's necklace dangling from his clenched fist. He had stolen it from her. Again.
Wordlessly Jocard met Jack's eyes. All humor had gone from his eyes. Only deadly seriousness remained.
AN: There you have it. Not the best chapter, I know, but I did get it written. I hope that all of you like it and please let me know what you thought of it. Now on to Jocard's profile!
Gentleman Jocard
Pirate Lord of the Atlantic Sea (New Orleans)
45 years old
Jocard was raised by his grandparents in New Orleans since he was a young boy. His parents were killed in a car accident when a drunk driver blew past a stop light. He is one of the most light hearted of the Pirate Lords, always wearing a smile. He was taught the old ways of Hoodoo by his grandmother. He has extensive knowledge of all sorts of magic, finding the arts very useful to use in his role as Lord. Jocard is also well trained it the art of daggers. He is able to hit any target he aims for. It was a skill passed on by his grandfather.
Unlike many of the other Lords, his title was passed to him by his grandfather who was Lord of the Atlantic Sea before him. And like all of his predecessors, he kept the name Jocard, discarding his real name after he gained the title. His piece of eight is a lucky rabbit's foot that he believes has always given him good luck.