The cabin was filled with a number of tantalizing conflicting choices for Charlotte. Now Paulette was afraid because Claude was injured, not because she herself had caused the damage. There was an underlying tension of drama that heightened the passions and anger running around the room. The blood was flowing profusely from the cut Paulette had inflicted with the now nearly half empty magnum of chilled champagne. She hadn't stopped draining the flute even with the injury and all. Too bad Charlotte didn't much care for alcohol because the slimy captain did have unexpectedly good taste in champagne. The second bottle was even better quality than the first one he had served. There had been no way Paulette would have been able to remain sober enough to play at captain drinking one much less two of the bottles. It was obvious her cruise had only been planned to take place in the bedroom with the captain.
Still lounging in the bed Charlotte sipped from their fears while reigning in her desire to go in between them fangs first. Claude yanked away from Paulette exclaiming, "You mad woman -- unhand me! You're as stupid as my wife. Stop touching me."
With that he lunged at Charlotte, "Charlie, you saw what this savage did. Help me." Collapsing with a whimper he seemed to curl into a ball bleeding into her lap. Paulette leaped to the other side of her saying, "Claude, I am trying to help."
Emotions were boiling over in all directions. Not just the fear and blood flowed in the bed -- now there was jealousy raising her ugly face, add in the insecurities Paulette had at being the 'older' woman in the room -- she was shaking with neediness. Charlotte pushed Claude away from her saying, "Give me a minute." Paulette needed to be calmed or something first.
Nodding he curled deeper into her side without staunching the blood in the least. His blood was slowly seeping through her red dress and making her very thirsty. His sobs were thankfully muted against her thigh and she felt the pulse beat of his heart. All her instincts were to cut her losses and kill them both. How did these things happen to her? This was almost exactly how the lawyer ended up her unintended victim all those years ago.
"I didn't mean to hit him so hard," Paulette tried to reach across Charlotte to get to Claude.
"I know." Charlotte lifted Paulette's tear drenched face to meet her eyes.
The heavy mascara had blurred around her eyes giving Paulette a hideously older face. She looked every second of her forty-eight years. Charlotte had sipped at her emotions enough to know how frightened Paulette was of aging. She had been breathtakingly gorgeous until she cleared thirty-five. From there the slide of age began to snowball and she started to take any and every medical measures available in an attempt to slow down the spiral of normal aging. Paulette never had people in her life for long because of her toxically self-absorbed nature. Her shallow personality ensured it stayed that way.
After forty-five Paulette grew panicky that she would never have a husband or any of the social set to show off her husband to -- once she landed him. As a trust fund baby she had only dated for the fun and prestige of showing up to events with handsome devil may care men -- never wondering how the man made his money -- they always had money or at least seemed to long enough for her to destroy the man in some manner. Time was whipping by her and she was taking desperate measures to become somewhat more likeable. Enter Claude the captain and his crew. Here Paulette saw a potential husband and a lifestyle she thought she could live with and make some friends, even for short term.
As Charlotte drank in all these fears and feelings from Paulette she began spinning her crystal before her face again. Softly she gave her instructions. Nodding Paulette slowly got up from the bed. Charlotte stopped her as she saw that Claude had bled all over her white sailor's outfit.
"Paulette, go to the closet and find a robe," Charlotte hoped there was something resembling a robe in the large closet. To her relief she saw Paulette pull out a burgundy garment from a hanger mixed in between suits and shirts that obviously belonged to Claude. Close enough to a robe from what she could see and it looked long enough to cover all the necessary parts while she figured out how to stage the upcoming mutiny. Nodding she let Paulette walk back holding the silk robe.
"Remove what you have on so it can be cleaned. And put on the robe," Charlotte slowly commanded aloud. She didn't care who cleaned the blood soaked garment but didn't think it would help if Paulette wandered around the ship looking like Lady Macbeth. Normally she would have slid the suggestions silently into Paulette's mind but Claude was a handful with his trembling bleeding body pressed heavily into her thigh and she was pretty sure if she got any more distracted she would fang into Claude just to stop the craziness. That might still happen but she needed Paulette out of the way.
Alcohol naturally wasn't helping Paulette's comprehension or coordination. In removing the stained clothes she fell back into the bed, in turn onto Claude's huddled body. The robe pooled in a silken heap at the base of the bed about a foot away from where the blood soaked outfit had landed. Ever the gentleman he automatically caught Paulette in his hands. Of course, it was her breasts he quickly found. Paulette's fears dimmed as her libido kicked back into gear. The alcohol was giving her the mistaken warm fuzzy loving feelings which had quickly erased the memory of Claude's lying.
Even though Charlotte had known that Paulette had face work done she hadn't realized that Paulette's botox, chin and cheek implants weren't the only surgical work on her frame until the sailor suit landed on the rug. Her breasts were up that high through no use of fabric or straps of any kind but well-paid-for augmentation, within the past few years it appeared. Probably a rib or two removed from each side making Paulette's figure stunning unclothed. So naturally Claude's hands were quite full and he was definitely no longer feeling any pain.
"Oh, baby, you are so perfect," Claude began helping Paulette further on the bed than Charlotte had wanted her.
Luckily the gash on his forehead had somewhat clotted and no longer was his blood freely flowing down his face. Not so good was Paulette's distracted state. She was not following Charlotte's vampiric suggestions as the pull of lust was stronger. Paulette's lonely state washed over and into every fiber of her being. Her fears were still there, as was Charlotte's suggestion, but the touch of a lover, even a married one, was all consuming.
A frantic knock on the door had Charlotte launch from the bed to see what was so critical that one of the crew disturbed them.
Fangs put away she yanked open the door saying fiercely, "What?"
The yummy boy from earlier quivered at her question. "Greg said to come get the captain. There's a ship next to us hailing for help."
The captain was in no shape to come anywhere but where he was and from the disgusting sounds behind Charlotte she knew he wasn't going to last too much longer. Putting the temptation aside she said, "Let me see what I can do."
The boy gulped and then caught a glimpse of the flesh slapping behind him. He blushed through his deep tan and nodded. Charlotte called back, "You two stay and work out your issues. I'll be back soon okay?" Claude groaned and Charlotte took that to be a yes.
She knew to the fiber of her being that ship along side wasn't in distress but rather intending on a little piracy of their own. If anyone was going to run this ship it was going to be her, not some latecomers. They raced for the bow where the kid said the stranded ship was spotted and had been hailed. As Charlotte saw the cluster of hands around the bow she turned to the boy saying, "Who's at the back of the boat?"
Looking confused he raised a finger visibly counted the heads then said, "I don't think anyone. Why?"
"Damnation!" Charlotte would have done the same thing had she a crew of her own to command. She turned abruptly and went racing for the stern. This was going to be fun. She felt the adrenaline racing through her body as the boy ran after her saying, "What about those folks?" Pointing backwards while still following her.
She laughed lightheartedly and grabbed a mop leaning abandoned on the deck. She tossed it back to the kid when she saw something more her style. The boys had been playing up top while Claude romanced the ladies below. Someone had stupidly left his cutlass on the deck. She loved sailors they were so predictable. Boys will be boys and they so loved their toys.
"Hey, that's Greg's!" He was stunned she would still keep it in her hands. He tried to not trip over the mop head as he ran after her.
"Well, he was stupid enough to leave it -- I don't think he'll mind." She was having fun. Her sandals skidded a bit on the slick wood deck but she was almost at the stern when a head bobbed into view. She was ready to do some severing of parts when another joined the first.
"You take the one on the right. The one on the left is mine." Charlotte commanded while stepping closer to the tail of the boat. As an afterthought she asked, "What is your name?"
"Bobby," he said shakily while holding the mop handle like a bat. With the smooth motion only years of practice could perfect he swung and hit the man's head out of the park. The rest of the body naturally followed and Charlotte saw his body hit the waves below. That man wouldn't be coming back for any more. Her pirate had a stupid kerchief tied over his greasy locks and looked like he hadn't seen fresh water in a few months. She saw two more men below on the ropes. One was nearly to the top of Bobby's side when her man cleared the rail with his leg. She simply put the cutlass through his thigh and pushed his face off as he screamed.
Bobby was no longer scared and thwacked his second man into the drink. The last man tried to jump and Charlotte quickly snagged his shirt and yanked him over the rail saying, "Going somewhere?" Her cutlass was holding his chin up to her face.
"Go to hell, you stupid bitch!" The smelly man was the leader and nearly as unpalatable as the first one she had sliced. This one she needed.
"Been there, done that, and it wasn't good on the complexion." Charlotte quipped while keeping her weapon firmly pushed into his neck. A bead of ruby red blood pooled and ran down the sword. Yes, Charlotte could smell him and knew he was definitely the pack leader of this merry band of pirates. Too bad they picked the same ship she had. Their mistake.
The three men in the water were looking worse for wear and Charlotte felt their deaths float up to her. One man might survive but the other two men had begun to sink beneath the sea and had lost the will to live. Their fears were intoxicating. Her eyes danced as she told Bobby, "Go see what's happening up front and tell Greg what we found."
Bobby hesitated but she ignored his fears.
"It's okay. Just hurry." That assured him somehow that what he was doing was vital and he ran.
Article © Lydia Manx. All rights reserved.
Published on 2006-10-02