Table of Contents

  Content Warning

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover more romance from Entangled… Magic Dark, Magic Divine

  Hunter Avenged

  Under a Wicked Moon

  The Rogue King

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2023 by Lisa Kessler. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  644 Shrewsbury Commons Ave

  STE 181

  Shrewsbury, PA 17361

  rights@entangledpublishing.com

  Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Jen Bouvier

  Cover design by Miguel Parisi

  Cover photography by ArtOfPhotos and Sean Pavone/Shutterstock

  ISBN 978-1-64937-381-6

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition May 2023

  At Entangled, we want our readers to be well-informed. If you would like to know if this book contains any elements that might be of concern for you, please check the book’s webpage for details.

  https://entangledpublishing.com/books/the-captains-curse

  This one is for my Dad.

  You were the miracle of the year.

  I’m so glad you’re still making music.

  I love you.

  Chapter One

  Ian Flynn narrowed his eyes as he searched the horizon for his ship and crew.

  Nothing made him feel less like a pirate captain than discovering they had set sail without even inviting him. It happened more now than he cared to examine.

  Since most of them had fallen in love and expanded the crew to include their women, he’d never felt more like an outsider.

  Life would be much simpler if he could walk away. He had plenty of money, and his business was in Atlanta, far from the blue Atlantic Ocean. But his damned heart wouldn’t allow it. He was a pirate. The sea called to his soul. He could no sooner turn his back on his crew and sailing than he could stop breathing. He’d die for any of them.

  If death were still an option.

  The reaper had been taken off the table for him and his crew the second they’d taken a drink from the Holy Grail over two hundred years ago. The Sea Dog crew was still walking this Earth because of Flynn’s decision to attack the Spanish ship carrying the Grail.

  Every choice he made affected all of them, and he didn’t take that responsibility lightly. He wouldn’t walk out on them, even if that was what they wanted.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. He turned from the water and took it out. Agent Bale’s name flashed on the screen. He pressed ignore.

  He was in no mood to hear the director of Department 13 tell him, yet again, that they hadn’t found Captain Rutger Morgan or Sampson Bane or whatever the fuck he was calling himself these days. The top secret division of the government prided itself on protecting Americans from paranormal threats, but lately their deadly relics had been vanishing from their vault.

  Flynn and his crew had pocketed plenty of gold from Agent Bale by retrieving the missing artifacts, but cleaning up Department 13’s messes wasn’t going to benefit him right now.

  Not while the vengeful ex-captain of his ship was plotting his next move. The longer he managed to remain hidden, the chances rose that Flynn would find himself in a trap, and this was a game he was not going to lose.

  The phone rang again. Flynn clenched his jaw and pressed accept this time. “Tell me you’ve located Rutger Morgan.”

  “Not yet. I’ve got an agent working on it, but I’ve got bigger problems at the moment.”

  Flynn rolled his eyes and waited for Agent Bale to continue.

  “Since we discovered my former data entry employee, Holli Porter, was smuggling paranormal relics from Department 13’s vault, we’ve been running an in-depth inventory. I’ve got agents out on recovery missions to get back what she sold all over the world, but there’s one artifact in particular that worries me.”

  Flynn arched a brow. “And this concerns me because…?”

  “I’m getting to that.” Agent Bale huffed.

  “If you’d opened with it, I might be paying more attention to this conversation.”

  Bale cursed under his breath. “We could get this deal hammered out faster if you stopped being an insufferable asshole, just for a minute.”

  Flynn smirked as the sun descended behind River Street. “If there is an offer of payment for my crew, then I’m listening.”

  He caught himself hoping Bale would fight back. He needed to blow off some steam. He didn’t want to admit the crew sailing without him mattered. Clearly, he was lying to himself.

  “There would definitely be a monetary reward for your crew.” He paused. “The Spear of Destiny is missing from the vault. Holli swapped it with a forgery. There’s a good chance your previous captain has it now. There’s no trace of it on the dark web. It hasn’t been listed or purchased that we can find, so they must’ve kept it.”

  A chill slithered up Flynn’s back. “The lance that killed the son of God was in your vault?”

  Of course it wouldn’t be for sale. Morgan wouldn’t part with such a powerful weapon.

  According to the legends, the Spear that pierced the side of Jesus Christ could kill anyone with a single stab, even an immortal.

  “Yes. The church lost track of it in 600AD, and there are at least four replicas spread across Europe, but this was the original.”

  “How can you be certain you didn’t have a forgery?” Flynn’s brows pinched with concern.

  If Bale really did lose the Spear of Destiny…then Flynn’s entire crew was in danger. And so was Lily. Her beautiful face filled his head before he could push the memory away. She had stolen his heart, but after he discovered Morgan was still alive two months ago, Flynn had ended their relationship. He knew better than to fall for a mortal, but he’d broken almost all his rules when it came to her. Foolish.

  Now every day that Morgan walked free was another day he could track Lily down. Morgan would hurt her because she was mortal. He could kill her, and that would be a wound Flynn couldn’t heal. He’d already arranged for Duke to have one of his personal security men tail her, just to be safe, but the Spear added a whole new dangerous layer to the situation.

  “It was the real deal,” Bale replied quietly. “I can’t divulge the details, but it killed an immortal being after it was taken from the vault.”

  “Fuck.” Flynn grunted. “You’re telling me you don’t know where Rutger Morgan is hiding, and he most likely has the Spear of Destiny at his side?”

  “Yes. We need to recover it and lock it up. If he sells it and it ends up in the wrong hands, it becomes an unstoppable weapon.”

  Flynn looked down at his shined Louboutin loafers, shaking his head. “And what happens to Morgan once we deliver this relic? Will we use it on him?”

  Flynn and his crew had been skirting the law on behalf of Bale’s top secret government department for the past three years, helping them retrieve dangerous metaphysical artifacts for the United States. The partnership had enabled the immortal crew to relive their piracy days, but this job could end all of that.

  For that kind of risk, Flynn needed more than money. He needed blood. Morgan’s.

  A door closed on the other end of the line and Bale lowered his voice. “Even though Morgan probably isn’t a legal American citizen, he’s still protected under our laws. I can’t sanction an execution.”

  “You also can’t put him in jail for a life sentence when we both know he’ll never age or die.” Flynn started walking up the cobblestoned street toward Bay Street. “He carries a god-killer weapon in his hand. If I tell you he fell on it, then that’s what happened.”

  Bale didn’t have to like it, but Flynn would protect his crew…and Lily.

  “I’m going to pretend I never h
eard that.” Bale cleared his throat. “I’m emailing you the file on the relic and the contract for the reconnaissance assignment with the standard confidentiality agreement.”

  “I’ll let you know after the crew votes. Hell of a way to start the new year,” Flynn grumbled.

  He ended the call and shook his head. This shit was draining the immortal life from his veins. He couldn’t just stand around the dock waiting for the crew. Maybe he could find an office supply store nearby to print out the documents Bale was sending over while he waited for the crew to dock.

  Anything to stop watching for the Sea Dog’s sails to appear on the horizon.

  He crossed Bay Street, heading for One-Eyed Bob’s restaurant. He’d left his car parked in Bob’s lot. Their pirate cook had opened Bob’s Seafood nearly a century ago, and it was now an institution and part of Savannah’s rich history as the oldest city in Georgia. Although Flynn’s business was based in Atlanta now, this city was a touchstone for him. The heart of Savannah remained unchanged just like he did. She even managed to survive the bloody Civil War when the Union troops marched in.

  When he reached Bob’s place, the old salt was carrying a bag of trash out to the dumpster. Although he was immortal, he’d sipped from the cup when he was in his sixties. He looked up as Flynn approached. In this lifetime, Bob was sporting a glass eye, although on the ship he used his eye patch. “Hey, Captain. What are you doing in Savannah?”

  “I could ask you the same. I thought you’d be sailing on the Sea Dog with the rest of the crew.” Flynn couldn’t quite hide the bitterness in his voice.

  Bob grinned. “I wouldn’t miss cooking my lucky New Year’s Day dinner plates.”

  He’d forgotten Bob’s tradition. Not that Flynn had ever participated.

  Flynn clenched his teeth. He’d made a bargain with the crew in 1795, after the sinking of their original Sea Dog ship, that he would stay away from this city.

  For the most part he had.

  He’d built his commercial real estate empire in Atlanta, but when his hotel deal in Savannah had crumbled due to a single property owner’s holdout, he’d been forced to visit more often in order to sell off the other properties he’d acquired.

  Although he’d never admit it out loud, since the crew had started stealing relics for Department 13, he’d caught himself hoping he might restore his relationship with them. In the past that idea had seemed insurmountable, but each time they set sail on another adventure, the men accepted his presence, and at times, even his leadership.

  He shouldn’t give a shit what they thought, but immortality had taught him that love, and his pirate crew, were the only things that never died. Eternity was fucking lonely when the world changed, yet he remained the same.

  “I’m negotiating another sale of one of the properties around the Magnolia Mystic shop. Trying to recoup some of my losses.” He scanned the parking lot, avoiding eye contact. Skye’s refusal of his generous offer for her property had been unexpected and, without her lot, his resort project had fallen through. He rarely lost a deal. It still stung.

  Bob lifted the lid to the dumpster and tossed the bag inside. He turned to Flynn with a wide grin. “I had an interesting customer at my annual New Year’s Day feast yesterday.”

  Flynn couldn’t be less interested, but he nodded as he took his car key fob out of his pocket.

  Bob rambled on. “She was a pretty thing with long black hair and dark brown eyes that could see into a man’s soul. Turns out she knew you.”

  Flynn frowned, not wanting to make the connection.

  Bob made it for him. “Her name was Lily Bouchard.”

  Flynn’s heart dropped. This couldn’t be true. She should be in Atlanta, hundreds of miles away from Rutger Morgan. Fuck. His gaze snapped to Bob’s face. “Why was she in Savannah?”

  “I’m not sure. It sounded like she was trying to get over a broken heart.” He adjusted his eye patch and narrowed his other eye. “Seems someone walked out of her life without so much as a goodbye.”

  Gods, hurting Lily had never been Flynn’s plan. That’s why he’d left abruptly two months ago. If he’d looked into her eyes or heard her voice, he never would have been strong enough to walk away.

  But since the day Morgan had captured Flynn and tortured him, there was no hiding from the reality that Morgan wouldn’t hesitate to kill Lily just to hurt Flynn.

  The only way Flynn could protect her was to vanish from her life and never look back.

  That wasn’t completely true.

  He’d actually planned to find a way to kill Morgan, and then explain the situation to Lily and hope she would forgive him someday.

  At the time, he hadn’t realized Morgan would be so difficult to find. As the weeks passed, his plans to reunite with Lily faded, and doubt crept in.

  She was probably better off without him. She deserved so much more than the love of an immortal pirate captain.

  “Fuck.” He scanned the area like she might appear at any moment. “She can’t stay in Savannah. It’s too dangerous.”

  Morgan couldn’t kill Flynn, but killing Lily would ruin him.

  “You know her?” Bob sobered, straightening up. “Wait. You think Morgan is in Savannah too?”

  “Yes.” Flynn had always depended on his intuition. It was like a hidden sixth sense, giving him a knack for spotting synchronicities and opportunities. His gift made him a good pirate captain, and right now, it was telling him they were being watched. Morgan was just waiting for the right moment to strike. “I’ll explain everything when the crew docks the Sea Dog tonight.” He focused on Bob again. “Did Lily tell you where she was staying?”

  Bob pulled at his chin. “She didn’t tell me, but I did see her phone when she ordered the Lyft to pick her up. She was going back to the Pirate’s Moon Bed and Breakfast.”

  He knew that place. He could be there in ten minutes. Being a cold-hearted son of a bitch was usually simple, but he dreaded turning it on Lily. He’d do whatever it took to get her out of the city.

  Flynn popped the lock on his black Infiniti Q60. “Thank you, Bob. I’ll text Colton and let him know to keep the crew on board. Meet me on the deck of the Sea Dog at nine o’clock tonight.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Even after centuries had passed, it still felt fucking amazing to be called captain. He got behind the wheel and drove across the historic district to Reynold’s Square. Every street was lined in massive live oak trees with Spanish moss dripping from the limbs. It was like the city embraced you at every turn. The beauty was never lost on him.

  He would’ve loved to share it with her. His heart stuttered. Damn it. He clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his cool indifference in place like a suit of armor. He shouldn’t be risking this, but he had to try.

  Could he walk away from her a second time?

  He would have to. He had to get her away from Savannah, even if that meant making her hate him more than she probably already did.

  At least she’d still be alive.

  His shoulders tensed. He excelled at being an arrogant asshole, but not with her. Lily had awakened a part of him he’d never realized existed. She made him laugh, and sometimes even at himself. It was equally thrilling and terrifying at once.

  And it was over.

  His duty was to keep her alive, and to do that, he needed her to stay away from Savannah and far away from him. He sucked in a deep breath and crossed the street to the Pirate’s Moon Bed and Breakfast, ignoring the way his heart pounded with anticipation.

  …

  Lily Bouchard sat alone in the courtyard of the Pirate’s Moon Bed and Breakfast nursing a Sprite and praying for the Advil to kick in. The weathered red brick courtyard was covered in moss and ivy. The fountain bubbled in the corner with a cherub perpetually pouring water from a basket. The sound was probably soothing on a normal day. Today it was much too loud.

  Those sparkling Mai Tais from Bob’s Seafood last night had packed a punch, and she’d been struggling with the world’s worst hangover all day.

  Way to kick off the new year, Lil. She rubbed her temples. Oof. The sun was fading from the sky, maybe then she could stop squinting. She’d come to Savannah for a much-needed change of scenery to kick off the New Year.

  After Ian Flynn, Atlanta’s most eligible bachelor, ghosted her and shattered her heart, she’d been picking up the pieces.