A Pirate Calling

Chapter Fifteen: Bring Me Back

"Ah, there you are," Calypso snarled, pushing slowly to her feet. "Davy Jones."

A cruel smile filtered across Fay's lips. "Calypso," her voice was a lazy drawl, a thick accent layering her words. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, a trail of blood stretching across her skin as she stepped forward. She favored her right leg as if it wasn't properly there. Her right forefinger was distended with the rest curled in as if it were longer than the rest.

In the distance, Fay could hear Jocard's bellow just as she crossed the line he told her not to. "No!"

Fay's left hand lifted, palm out as if to caress Calypso's cheek. Instead the fingers wrapped around her throat and squeezed as hard as they could.

The smile curling across Calypso's lips caused Fay's body to surge with rage. Her right fist shot up and slammed into Calypso's cheek. She punched again, snapping the goddess's head to the side. Her third strike was blocked as Calypso lifted her arm, her long fingers wrapping around Fay's wrist.

"Let us end this."

Calypso pushed her arm aside. Instead of an attack, instead of any blow Fay could have defended against, Calypso brushed aside Fay's block and wrapped her hand over her eyes.

Fay could feel the other woman's arm slide around her waist and pull her forward to press against her body. She tried to pull away, tried to jerk free, but Calypso's grip was solid.

The first flash of her father's face shocked Fay back to normal. Jones was pushed away, his roar of frustration echoing in her mind.

"See 'ow your father really died," Calypso whispered in her ear. "And 'oo's at fault."

The second flash hit her like a physical blow-

-there was a man on the raft with them. He was classically good looking. Dressed, remarkably, in old sailor attire; loose linen shirt, black trousers with black boots. He knelt in front of her, his hand stretching out to cup her cheek. He had such warm hands despite the cold rain.

He looked so sad. She couldn't figure out why he looked so sad.

"You can't take her," her father, ever present, was at the man's side. "She's important, the last of her line. If she dies, so does the hope of everyone." Take her? Take her where?

The strange man turned slightly, still kneeling in front of Fay. "I have no choice." His accent tickled her ears.

"Please. She has to live. She's the answer. She has the ability to stop all of this!" Her father gestured wildly over his head, encompassing the storm around them. "If she dies . . ." Her father's voice broke. Through the rain she could see the despair lining his face. "Just, please. Don't take her."

She didn't understand. Why did her dad think she was going to die?

The stranger stood up slowly. "I understand what you're going through. I am sorry for your loss. But," he paused, turned to look at Fay and then turned back to her father. "But I have to do this."

"No. No you don't. Don't you see? This is what she wants! With Fayth out of the way she will get everything back. All of this will be hers again. She will command the seas again."

Fay could see the stranger straighten. An odd look crossed his face. "Calypso?" he asked slowly.

Her father nodded. "Fayth is the last of the Jones bloodline. Her blood carries the ability to hold Calypso in check. Somehow the power that Jones used all those years ago filtered through our blood. I never thought that . . ." His voice cracked. "I thought that we were safe. Calypso hasn't been seen in hundreds of years. I never thought that she would be back."

"But Calypso was freed," the stranger replied. "Why would she care about one bloodline?"

Fay's father smiled ruefully. "Not all of the power to seal Calypso was held by the nine pieces of eight, Captain Turner. Davy Jones was her creation so he held some of her power as well."

"But how-?"

"No one knows how the bloodline started," her father interrupted as if knowing what Turner was about to ask. "But the stories have been passed down generation to generation. Our family has stayed clear of the water for so long. But I got cocky. I didn't think she would attack us. If Fayth dies Calypso will destroy everything. She needs to be protected." Her father's voice broke on the last word.

Turner looked back at Fay. Her father placed his hand on Turner's shoulder. "She has to live. I will do anything to protect her."

Turner shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Take me instead."

Turner's head snapped to his. "What?"

"Take me instead. If you have to take someone, take me."

"It doesn't quite work that way."

Her father stepped in front of her, blocking Turner's way. "You need a soul, right? Then take mine. I will not doom her or this world." He paused, his eyes pleading. "What would you do if it was your own child?"

Turner flinched. "One soul does not equal another," he paused. "Even if I take you, there is no guarantee that she will survive. Her wounds are severe."

Her father turned his head to look at her, a sad smile crossing his face. "She's a fighter. She'll survive."

"Then make your peace, Mr. Nolan."

Her father nodded and then turned to kneel in front of Fay. His hands shook as he cupped her cheek, as he wiped something sticky from under her eye. "Fay, my love. I'm so sorry. This is the only way I can save you. Please forgive me and know that I love you," he brushed a kiss to the top of her head-

-A sharp sting piercing the skin of her abdomen brought Fay back to reality. Calypso's hand was torn from her eyes. A scream split the night as Calypso was thrown away. Fay crumpled. A sudden pair of arms scooped her up before she could fall. "Easy, lass," a gruff voice said in her ear.

Fay looked up to see the face of an unknown man. His gaze flicked to her and an easy grin crossed his lips. "'ello love."

"Who-?"

"Take it easy, darlin'. We're here ta help."

"We?"

Fay tilted her head to look over his shoulder. Two other men stood behind them, their backs facing Fay and the man carrying her. She watched as the two men lunged at Calypso, one dodging around her, the other going straight for her. Two swords were plunged into the sea goddess's body. Fay winced as the woman let out a scream mixed with pain and anger.

Fay was back inside the house, Bella and Fatima swarming around her, before she could see the outcome of the fight.

"Captain says to keep her inside the house," he told Jocard as he passed her off to him. "Don't let her back out."

Jocard nodded in reply as he placed Fay on the couch. Fatima grabbed towels from the kitchen, tossing them to Bella who was knelt next to Fay. "Fatima, call Jack. He must know about this."

"Who are they?" Angie asked, staring at the group from across the room. She stood behind a kitchen chair, her knuckles white from gripping the back.

"The crew of the Flying Dutchman," Bella responded absently. "Their ship must be close by. Jack said he spoke to Captain Turner."

"So then they are here to help." Jocard stated, moving back to the window. "Good. We will need them. They seem to be the only ones capable of dealing with her."

Angie walked up next to him. The three men were surrounding the still snarling Calypso. A dagger stuck out of her side. Angie watched as the woman exploded into water and various sea creatures just as one of the men slashed his sword at her throat.

God she was never going to get used to that.

The front door was open before the car doors were even closed. Jack looked up, meeting Fatima's eyes. She jerked her head up, indicating the room at the top of the stairs, and he nodded in response. Jack moved past her without stopping, making his way to the stairway. He could hear the semi-jovial greetings behind him as he climbed.

Jack stopped in front of Fay's door. He raised his hand to knock but hesitated. If half of what Bella had told him was true, then Fay wouldn't want any visitors.

But she needed one.

If there was anything Jack knew, it was that you shouldn't wallow in misery alone. With a sigh Jack opened the door.

The first thing his eyes landed on were the photos strewn across the floor; images of a smiling family or candid shots of a man in his mid-thirties. His gaze followed the pictures until it landed on a pair of tanned legs splayed out. His eyes trailed up the legs and hesitated over the still damp shorts topped by a skin tight tank top that clung to her skin in all the inappropriate places. Her hands were gripping a photo too tight, causing the edges to crinkle.

Fay's cheeks were lined with tracks of tears. She was crying and it was not something Jack ever wanted to see. Her head hung low, her shoulders slouched in such despair he almost couldn't take it. He walked up to her slowly, tentatively. Jack stopped just at the edge of the sea of photographs and waited.

Finally, after long moments of slow, steadying breaths, Fay looked up at him. Her grey eyes were dark, tears pooling in their depths. "He died because of me," she whispered.

Jack stepped over the pictures carefully and sat next to her. He stretched an arm around her shoulders, pulled her close. "It wasn't your fault."

"It was," she whimpered, burying her face in his chest. "If I hadn't- if he had just let me go."

Jack pulled her closer and rested his chin on the top of her head. "He did what he had to do."

Fay grew rigid in his arms. Her head started shaking back and forth. "No," she whispered. She pushed from him with both palms against his chest. "No! He did not have to die. All he had to do was stay alive! All he had to do was stay with me. Get off me!"

Jack held her arms. She had started shoving at him, her fists hitting him hard each time.

"You need to calm down, Fay."

"No I don't!" she snapped. "How could you say that? How could you dare say that?"

Jack tilted her chin, catching her eyes with his. "There's more to the story than you know."

"I know the story." She bit out. "He gave himself up. He died because of me."

"No. He died for you."

"There's no difference."

Jack cupped her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing away the tears. "He knew there was more that you needed to do. That's why he asked to trade places. You're important. And now we-"

Fay jerked from his grasp, her eyes narrowed. "How did you know?"

Jack's eyebrows furrowed. "He was your father. Parents'll do anything for their kids, or so I'm told."

Fay shook her head. "No. How did you know he changed places?"

Jack opened his mouth but then closed it. There was no easy way to explain how he knew. "I-"

Fay straightened her arms, pushing herself away from him. "You knew?"

"Well-"

Her eyes turned accusing. "You knew."

"Fay."

"No." She scrambled away from him, scattering the pictures. "You knew. You knew and you didn't tell me. I thought you wanted me to trust you. This is a hell of a way to show that."

Jack sighed. "You weren't ready," he ran a hand through his hair. God he missed an uncomplicated life. "I would've told you when I felt the time was right. Calypso beat me to it to throw you off your game"

"Well it worked. I don't want anything to do with this."

"It doesn't work that way, love. Once you're in, you're in. And you were born into this."

Fay pushed to her feet. She swatted dust off the back of her shorts. "It's too bad. I'm done."

Jack was on his feet before she could move past him. He grabbed her arm, twisting her toward him. Fay swung on him. Jack blocked her punch and yanked her closer. With a grunt, she kicked up, kneeing him in the side.

Jack grunted with the impact but his grip only tightened. Fay hooked her foot around his ankle and tugged. His feet flew out from under him. Fay pulled back on her arm, thinking his grip would loosen.

She was sadly mistaken.

Jack landed on his back, his head smacking on the floor and Fay following right behind. Her free hand landed next to his head. She stared down at him for a moment, something flashing in her eyes that he was sure she didn't want to acknowledge, before pushing up. Fay sat up, straddling his abdomen.

Jack's eyes darkened. "I believe we've talked about this before."

"Shut up. Just let go of my arm."

Jack only tightened his grip again. "Not if all you're going to do is walk away."

"So help me Gal-"

"It's Sparrow, love."

"I don't care. Now let go."

"No."

Fay groaned and made a move to stand. Jack grabbed her other arm and pushed up, tucking her arms between their bodies and shoved up, pushing her over. Fay thumped to the floor.

Fay tried to push up against him, but Jack stopped it, moving his hands from her arms and trailing up to her hands. He ducked his head and brushed his nose against hers. His lips ghosted across hers. Her chin tipped up slightly but she tucked it back down. The side of Jack's lips tipped up in a grin.

"You can't leave, Fay."

Fay's gaze flicked to his lips. "The great thing about living in this day and age, Sparrow, is that I have the freedom to do what I want."

Jack laughed, the sound a puff of air against Fay's lips. "Freedom is a state of mind, love."

"Is it now?"

"Absolutely."

Jack dipped his head again, capturing her lips in a crushing kiss. One hand moved to cup the back of her neck, refusing to allow her to break away. Fay's hands pushed against his chest, trying so hard to get away from him, before finally succumbing and fisting in the folds of his shirt.

Jack's free hand moved down and brushed the sliver of skin bared between her shorts and shirt. Fay jerked at his touch. She deepened the kiss, her arms going around his neck, as his hand trailed up. His fingers curled just before he touched the edge of her breast. His head tilted up and away.

It was going to kill him. He knew it would. He had started this and he really should finish it.

He really wanted to finish it.

But not like this.

Never like this.

Jack tried to form words but his thoughts refused to cooperate. All he managed was a simple "No."

Fay lifted her head, nipping at his lower lip. "Yes."

"Fay-"

"Don't. Not tonight. Just-" she paused, her eyes flicking over his face, her hands moving from his neck to the small of his back and curling into his shirt. She lifted one leg, her knee resting next to his hip. Her gaze went back to his dark eyes. "Please."

Well.

He brushed her lips. His thumb caressed her cheek. He shouldn't; he really shouldn't.

But he had never been one to turn down a woman who asked.

The resounding thud on the ceiling caused everyone to look up. Wes held his spoon half way to his mouth. He exchanged a look with his sister. Jocard moved to stand until Fatima placed a hand on his arm. She shook her head.

"They are fine, Jocard," she said softly. "It is just a normal quarrel."

Wes waved his spoon toward the ceiling. "They always like this?"

Jocard gave a boom of laughter. "When I first met her, she 'ad swung on 'im." He laughed again. "I 'ave a feelin' it was not the first time nor will it be the last."

"With Fay's personality?" Angie snorted. "Not likely."

Bella wiped her mouth and placed the napkin on the table. "Which brings us to the question of what exactly we are doing here."

"The song was sung," Ernesto replied. "We answered."

"But why was it sung?"

"Jack's already told us it has to do with Fay," Jordan replied, not looking up from what she was writing in her notebook.

"And that she has a connection with Davy Jones." Wes seconded.

"Which is impossible." Ernesto replied.

Fatima shrugged. "Perhaps not."

"It does not matter anyway," Jocard cut in. "We cannot do anything until the others arrive."

Angie sat up straight. "Wait. There are others?"

"Three more. There are always nine."

Angie turned to Wes and Jordan. "But there're two of you."

"We count as one," Jordan answered.

"Pretty much the only ones born into it," Wes seconded. "Besides Jocard."

"Why nine?"

Jocard shrugged and swiped his hand over his face. "There were nine to start and there will be nine to finish."

"Nine to seal Calypso."

Bella nodded. "And then nine to release her. But she has been quiet for hundreds of years. Why would she appear now?"

None of the Lords replied. None of them had an answer. This was a riddle that none of them could figure out.

"So, Captain Turner," Angie asked when the silence became too much. "What's his deal?"

Jordan's hand paused. She glanced up over the rims of her glasses. "Turner?"

"He was here?" Wes asked, sitting up straight, his food forgotten.

"Off shore," Jocard answered. "His men fended off Calypso this afternoon."

"Jack brought him in," Fatima said. "He believed that he can be of some use during this fight. Apparently he may be right."

"Why would he be any more help than you guys?"

"William Turner is the Capitán of The Flying Dutchman. He is the ferryman of the dead."

"It was a charge given by Calyso long ago," Bella said.

Angie's eyebrows furrowed. "But Calypso is a bad guy."

"She is," said Jocard. "The original charge was given to Davy Jones."

"Who was killed during the East India Trading Company battle."

The five Lords exchanged glances.

"She needed to know," Fatima replied to their unspoken questions. "She was here when Calypso and Jones first showed. Tell her the story, Jordan. You do know it best."

Angie twisted in her seat, turning to the young Lord as she began to speak her tale.

They were savage. It was fast and rough; born from her desperation and his desire to comfort her. It was from her grief at her father's death; from her anger at finding out it was her fault. She pushed him away and yet pulled him closer; he nipped at her neck and dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her hips. Fay winced. She knew she was going to bruise but couldn't bring herself to care. Everything she touched elicited emotions in him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Her lips touched scars that he had forgotten about years ago.

He grabbed at her hair as they moved. Her nails dug into his back, carving red lines across his skin. Jack bit at her lip. He groaned against her lips as they moved against each other. Jack dug his fingers into her hips. She arched up against him. No words were uttered. They spoke in touches and movements.

Twice he caught tears pooling in her eyes and twice he caught them before they fell. She never stopped touching him. Her hands were everywhere as if she couldn't bear the thought of not being in contact with him: clenching his hips, skimming over the small of his back, gripping his fingers between her own. She was in such deep emotional turmoil but trying so hard not to show it.

Jack kissed her deeply one last time as he felt her start to build to her release. He almost couldn't take it; the look of ecstasy crossing her face mixing with the sorrow. It was beautiful on her face, something he'd never be able to forget. He rocked with her for a little while longer, moving against her, their skin creating glorious friction.

Fay collapsed under him when it was over, her hands still holding onto his. Jack leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her already swollen lips. Then he placed his forehead against hers, gazing into her grey eyes. A smile graced his lips as he folded her in his arms, unwilling to break contact with her sweaty skin.

AN: Holy crap! I'm can't even apologize for being gone for so long *cough* five years *cough*. In all honesty, I've had this chapter open on my computer for about that long, but I wrote myself into a wall. Then I got busy writing other things and couldn't get past the wall. It was at least as long as the earth and as tall as the sky.

But I recently did an entire PotC marathon and, for some reason, inspiration kicked in again. And this is what popped out. I'm now adding it back to my writing rotation and I'm going to try to get better at updating all of them. I was able to get nine pages written in a week by turning off my computer and phone. I think I'll stick to that. I can honestly say that I'm not really good at writing smut (even light smut) as I'm sure you can see, but hopefully it wasn't too terrible.

For those of you that stuck with me from the beginning (and are still around), I hope the chapter was worth the wait.

Bella Lumine

Pirate Lord of the Mediterranean Sea (Marseilles)

Piece of eight: opal earring

32 years old

Bella Lumine is the CEO of a major import/ export business based out of France. She was raised in an affluent family in the heart of Paris. She took over her father's company when he retired at the age of twenty-eight. She has one younger sister, Adelais, that is close with even though she does not know about Bella's status as a Lord.

An old family friend who she was very close with during her childhood passed on the title of the Lord of the Mediterranean Sea to her. He was like an uncle to her and Bella felt closer to him most of the time than her own parents.