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… Highland Justice

  Hunter’s Hope

  Night’s Bliss

  Nightshade’s Bite

  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 © 2022 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

  644 Shrewsbury Commons Ave

  STE 181

  Shrewsbury, PA 17361

  rights@entangledpublishing.com

  Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing.

  Edited by Jen Bouvier

  Cover design by Miguel Parisi

  Cover photography by Just dance, Marc Roura, and ESB Professional/Shutterstock

  ISBN 978-1-64937-358-8

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition June 2022

  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/pirates-protector

  This one is for my editor, Jen, lover of mermaids and polisher of words!

  I have enjoyed working on this immortal pirate crew with you. Thanks for all your input and encouragement along the way.

  Chapter One

  Duke Proctor propped his boot up on the post of the pier and rested his forearms on his knee as he looked out over the Savannah River.

  Wisps of fog billowed up from the water like ghosts rising from the depths, returning to the haunted city. Spooky to some, but he’d lived here since the 1700s, and he found it comforting to imagine that people he’d lost might not be as far away as some thought.

  In order to keep his immortality hidden, he had to reinvent himself every thirty or so years. When the mortals around him started to notice that time didn’t seem to be taking a toll on him, he’d fake his own death and return as a distant relative to collect his uncle’s estate. Over the years, he’d been a history professor, a pro fisherman, and even opened his own watersports store.

  In this lifetime, he’d opted to freelance instead of tying himself to a job with set hours. He didn’t need the money anyway. His size, standing at just over six foot three inches, and muscular build made freelancing as security a logical choice. He’d been helping Greyson, one of his immortal crewmates, with his security company, and now that Greyson had accepted a position working with Aura in the Department 13 field office, Duke had bought out Greyson’s interest in the personal security business. It usually meant late hours, but he enjoyed the work.

  He’d just finished a job providing security for a concert. His ears were still ringing while he soaked up the solitude. The full moon sparkled on the water.

  Three a.m. was the magical hour when he could pretend cell phones and social media didn’t exist, and he could imagine over two hundred years hadn’t slipped through his fingers.

  Usually, the passage of time didn’t bother him. History was his passion, but sometimes… Sometimes he wondered why life had unfolded the way it did.

  He shoved the memories back, refusing to allow them to encroach on this peace.

  There was a splash in the distance.

  Could’ve been a gator or a turtle, maybe even a giant catfish jumping. He didn’t mind sharing space with them. They hardly ever spilled their beer on him or flashed their tits hoping to get backstage.

  Tonight’s concert had been challenging. His personal security company had been hired by Justin Blake’s promoter for his first performance at the new District Live concert venue, right near the river. Duke’s staff had been professional, but it had proven tough to manage the rowdy crowd.

  After the show, the push to get backstage to the performer had been massive and his crew had been stretched thin. They’d held the line, but barely. He needed to hire a few more people, but the more the business grew, the more his interest in it waned.

  It might be time for a big change. Too early to fake his death and reestablish himself, but he could sell this business and start over again. Next lifetime, maybe he’d go back to teaching history at the university.

  A cold gun barrel kissed the back of his neck next to his ponytail and a woman’s hushed voice said, “Don’t move.”

  He didn’t flinch or even lower his boot from the post. He’d been shot before. Many times. It fucking hurt, so he hoped whoever was holding the gun didn’t fire. But even if she did, unless she separated his head from his shoulders, he’d heal.

  “Do I know you, lass?” He mentally ran through his short list of exes. Pointing a gun at him didn’t seem likely for any of them.

  “You have something that doesn’t belong to you.”

  He smirked, staring up at the moon. He’d been a pirate for over two hundred years. He owned plenty of things that didn’t belong to him. “Could you be a little more specific?”

  “Do you want me to shoot you?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I hate being shot.”

  She made a noise, but it didn’t sound like a laugh. “Then give me the comb.”

  What the hell was she talking about? “I use a brush, myself.”

  She landed a solid punch to his kidney that had him seeing stars. “Stop fucking around and tell me where you put the comb.”

  The sucker punch lit the short fuse on his temper. He slid his boot off the post and turned around, and she countered by pointing the barrel down and pulling the trigger. His foot exploded with agony.

  She’d shot him.

  He grabbed the lapels of her coat and jerked her in close to his face. “What the fuck is your problem?”

  She was a curvy blond with eyes as blue as the sea and full lips that he might have wanted to kiss if she hadn’t just put a bullet into his foot. She narrowed her eyes and pressed the gun barrel to his abdomen.

  His abs clenched as if they could stop a bullet. He was pretty proud of them, but even after all of his workouts, they were no match for a Glock.

  Her jaw tightened as she spoke through clenched teeth. “My problem is you and your friends took a comb, and I’m here to retrieve it.”

  She must mean his crew. They’d plundered the Holy Grail together in 1795 and after a sip, they’d all been immortal ever since. How did she know about the Sea Dog crew?

  He shoved her backward and knelt to inspect his boot. His foot was already healed inside.

  He couldn’t say the same for his favorite Wolverine steel-toe work boots. He just got them broke in too.

  “Damn it.” He looked up at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do.” She kept her gun aimed at him. “The Atlantean had no right to give you that comb.”

  Now that rang a bell. “The mermaid comb?”

  She nodded, eyeing his foot. “I need it back.”

  He rose to his full height. She was tall for a woman, maybe five-foot ten, but he stood six-foot three in bare feet. “Are you saying you’re a mermaid?”

  She looked at his foot again. “Why don’t you bleed?”

  He crossed his arms. “I feel like we’re having two different conversations. Maybe we should start over with fewer guns. I’m Duke Proctor.”

  She jammed her gun back into her shoulder holster and withdrew a dagger with an inlaid handle. It had the same kind of multi-color abalone shell finish as the comb. She gripped the hilt in a tight fist. “Annika Mare.”

  He raised a brow, studying her face a little closer. “‘From the sea’ in Latin. Nice touch.”

  She tossed her head, sending her long blond hair down her back. “I don’t have time for…this…whatever this is.”

  He opened his hands and held them out. “I’m unarmed, and I don’t have your comb.”

  “Fuck.�
� She slid her dagger back into the sheath hanging from her belt and stared out at the water. “That comb was never meant to be touched by human hands.”

  His friend, and the navigator of the Sea Dog, Caleb, had recently found Atlantis, and returned a key that allowed the legendary city to vanish from view once again. He’d saved Savannah from a massive tidal wave, and the Atlanteans had rewarded him with a strange crescent shaped comb.

  Supposedly, it belonged to a mermaid, but Caleb had turned it over to Agent Bale and Department 13. The top-secret branch of the U.S. government specialized in studying and storing paranormal relics to keep them out of human hands.

  Even if Annika really was a mermaid, she wouldn’t be able to break into Department 13. They found you, not the other way around.

  “You still haven’t told me if you’re a mermaid. Though…” He looked down at her feet. “You don’t seem to have a tail.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Merfolk can walk on land. The transformation comes when we get back into the water.”

  He blinked, digesting the reality that he’d been shot by a mermaid tonight. A familiar buzz of curiosity blossomed through him, along with a slew of questions this warrior woman would probably never answer.

  Unless he could get her to stick around. “I can probably help you get it back.”

  Suddenly, he had her full attention. She crossed her arms and looked up at him. “What are your terms?”

  She was all business. And so much more beautiful than Marina, the wooden mermaid figurehead on the front of their Spanish Galleon, the Sea Dog.

  He cracked his knuckles and met her eyes. “We work together, and you’ll answer all my questions about the merfolk.”

  A crease formed between her eyebrows. “It’s my understanding that pirates deal in gold and precious stones.”

  “I have all the gold and jewels I need. Give me knowledge, and I’ll give you my temporary oath of allegiance until your comb is returned.” He held out his hand, shocked by the realization that he was offering a partnership to a mermaid.

  A mermaid who’d just shot him.

  The universe was a fucking hilarious place.

  …

  She studied his hand before finally grasping it tightly. “I will answer your questions until our work is finished.”

  Annika released him and took a step back. She rarely touched humans. They didn’t repulse her, but she’d made mistakes with them in the past. Her chest tightened before she could push the memories away.

  It had been her idea to visit Earth three-thousand years ago. She’d come through the portal from her home on the planet Neptune with her sisters Atargatis and Yemaya. The first humans they’d encountered were navigating boats across the oceans. Her sister Atargatis fell in love with one.

  Annika cut off the memory, unwilling to relive the disaster. They hadn’t known humans couldn’t breathe beneath the surface.

  She looked up at Duke, studying her new partner for this mission. He was tall by human standards, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His long curly hair was pulled back in a ponytail and his goatee was short and well-kept. He wore black pants with many utility pockets and a black short-sleeved shirt with a collar. His arms were chiseled, stretching the fabric around his chest and biceps.

  Attractive…for a human.

  “Where do we find the comb?”

  He arched a brow. “You don’t waste time.”

  “Because it is running out.” She sucked in a slow breath. The saltwater river lured her closer. She ached to dive in, to swim, to free herself of the confining clothes humans insisted on wearing.

  But a mermaid’s comb was an extension of her being. With it, she could communicate with the merfolk and locate the portals to go home. The combs also regulated their changes. If their comb was broken or damaged, they would lose the ability to use legs on land. And if it were destroyed, mermaids could fade from existence.

  She would cease to exist.

  In the wrong hands, a mermaid could be compelled to commit atrocities, if that’s what it took to be made whole with her comb again. Annika shuddered at the thought and forced her gaze from the saltwater.

  Duke pointed at a large ship further down the dock. “We can talk in private on the Sea Dog. Come on.”

  She followed him down a pier to a large Spanish Galleon.

  This was the ship that had taken her comb. She’d swam after it for miles, all the way back to Savannah, but after the humans departed, she searched every inch of the boat. Her comb was gone.

  It had been safe for over a thousand years. Why would the Atlanteans give it away now?

  And why give it to these human sailors?

  Duke crossed the gangplank and onto the main deck. He led her into a large room with kitchen appliances on one side and two long tables and benches on the other.

  He turned on the lights and straddled the center of one of the benches as she sat on the end. Her breath caught in her throat. He was even more attractive in the light. He had brown skin and dark brown eyes that sparkled as he rested his forearms on the table. “We gave the mermaid’s comb to Department 13 for safekeeping. Agent Bale will be able to tell us where it is. I can contact him in the morning.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I’ve never heard of Department 13.”

  “They’re a top-secret branch of the American government. They specialize in locking up dangerous paranormal relics to keep people safe.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “If this comb is so important, why did the Atlanteans have it in the first place?”

  “We need some boundaries on the questions.”

  “That wasn’t in our pact.” His dark brown eyes shone in the moonlight coming through the porthole, and his sly grin tempted her to smile.

  She never smiled.

  “Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Because I was cocky, and I didn’t think I’d need it.”

  He sobered. “It’s your comb.”

  She nodded slowly and got up, unable to sit still. “It was reckless to leave it with the Atlanteans, but at the time, I didn’t have any other options.”

  “What does that mean?” Duke asked.

  His line of questioning was bringing back memories she would rather leave buried. “My sister and I were fighting. I was afraid if she found my comb, she would send me back home. The Atlanteans knew how important it was to keep it hidden. I didn’t imagine the city would ever sink.”

  That wasn’t the entire painful story, but thankfully it seemed to satisfy the pirate for now.

  He stood and stepped into her path. “Maybe it’s safer with Agent Bale. They’ll keep it locked in a vault. No one will use it.”

  She shook her head and moved around him, walking out onto the main deck. “You don’t understand.”

  He turned around, his gaze following her around the deck. “Then enlighten me. I get paid to protect people, not to read their minds.”

  She crossed her arms and shot him a glare. “They have already tried to use it.”

  “What?” His brow furrowed. “How do you know?”

  How could she explain the connection to her comb to a human? She stared at the ship. “You said you protect people for money. Is that what you do on this vessel?”

  “I guess you could say that.” He looked up at the sails. “I’m the right hand of the captain.” He met her eyes. “I was brought on board to protect him, but over the years my loyalty grew. I would give my life for any member of this crew now. They’re my family.”

  Family. She blinked, her gaze locked on his. “My comb is like my family when I’m out of the water. I hear it sing in my dreams, and it’s calling me right now. Something is wrong.”

  He came closer. “What happens if someone uses it?”

  “Most will ask for wishes to be granted, but my magic is limited here. The real danger is…” She lifted her chin, refusing to let fear be her master. “In the wrong hands, that comb could force me to open the undersea portals to lead them back home.”

  “Force you?”

  She pressed her lips together and started to nod. “The desire to possess our comb is instinctive. Even if I knew the request would lead to ruin, I’m not sure I could resist.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll find Agent Bale in the morning. We’ll get your comb back, okay?”

  She wished she could bottle his confidence, but earlier today, she’d been swallowed by the foreboding darkness.