Forty (Tongue) Lashes And A Bit Of Parley
A fire crackled in the corner of the old-style inn, giving the place a sense of warmth and home that was unusual in these types of establishments. It was one of the reasons Anyanka insisted on the Brimstone Bar and Grille for their infrequent get-togethers. Granted, there was a bit of a sulfurous odor about the place, but the impeccable service made up for it. She was currently revising that opinion, however, as their server was taking his own sweet time to refill their drinks.
"I don't know why anyone hires fyarls as wait staff," she complained once he had finished. "One sneeze and it's all over for your dinner."
The fyarl in question gave her a dirty look as he lumbered away. Really, what did he expect?
"Oh posh," Halfrek said, waving a lace-covered wrist in the air, her hand bobbing along with it like a dead fish. "You and your complaints. Honestly, Anyanka, one would think you were interested in commerce the way you yammer on."
"Please. Vengeance is my life and you know it. After all, who has been justice demon of the century three times running?"
Halfrek just rolled her eyes and returned to her drink. It was a sore point with Hallie that Anyanka was the better justice demon. Oh, Hallie wasn't bad. She just didn't have the imagination that Anya did, that sense of panache. Personally, she thought it was because Halfrek was fixated on her own parental issues, which had limited her artistic vision.
She was distracted from her thoughts when Hallie kicked her ankle.
"What? I was in the middle of pondering your parental issues."
Halfrek sighed hugely. Anya was pretty sure it was a habit she had developed specifically to emphasize her bosom.
"I swear Anyanka, I don't know why we're friends sometimes. You are supposed to be consoling me."
"Why is that again?" Anya wrinkled her brow, trying to puzzle out the original reason for this conversation. Perhaps there was something to be said for the inn's microbrew.
"I had that little kerfluffle, remember? I didn't make a mistake, of course, just someone got there before me. Damn vampires, thinking they're top of demonkind, when really they're nothing but a step above humans."
Hallie fluffed her hair in that way she had whenever she was nervous, or preening, or hells, just about any mood gave her a reason to fluff her hair. She was obviously obsessed with her locks.
Anya chewed the edge of one of her claws. It was an abysmal habit left over from her human years, but she didn't let it worry her too much. After all, she could change her appearance whenever she liked by force of will.
"Oh, I remember now. That whole mess with your admirer. I told you, Halfrek, it's never good to get sucked into their lives. Just get in, get the wish, do the deed, and get out."
Hallie rolled her eyes again, melodramatic as always.
"I know that, silly. I have been doing this as long as you have. But this case was...complicated." Hallie actually looked wistful for a second. "Come on, Anyanka. Hasn't anything similar ever happened to you? Make me feel better."
Hallie fell into a pout as she finished. Anya sighed. She knew her friend was truly upset about this stupid vampire business. She racked her brain, trying to come up with something savage to soothe a demon's soul–er, mind. It was difficult, because she simply didn't make mistakes.
"I just don't make mistakes, Hallie. You know that."
Her friend looked off in the distance sharply, a bit of color rising to her dark-veined cheeks. Anya sighed again.
"But all right. There was this one time, when things didn't go quite the way I planned."
Halfrek looked back at her, eyes shining with a predatory glee.
"Really? Do tell."
Anya picked up the carved wooden cup in both hands, staring into the dark liquid that sloshed inside, reminiscent of the sea under a cloudy moon. She smiled a little at the overly romantic metaphor.
"It was sometime around the middle of last century. I got a standard vengeance call, a prostitute down on her luck because some john had swept her off her feet, promised her the moon, and then didn't deliver. Honestly, don't they ever learn?"
Halfrek leaned forward, an eager look on her face.
"You could always take up-"
Anya held up a hand, stopping Hallie before she could work into her recruitment spiel.
"Can it, Hallie. You want to hear this or not?"
Halfrek settled back into the leather padded bench, slightly disgruntled but attentive.
"Anyway, this girl wanted me to deprive the guy of his most valued possession. Easy enough, as we all know men value the family jewels above all else. But the girl also wanted me to scare him a little beforehand, so I decided to make a personal visit, put on a show."
Anya took a quick swig of the microbrew. Really good stuff. Maybe the brewmeister would be interested in importing some to Arashmahar. He would turn a tidy profit. If-
"Well, go on. That's not much of a story so far."
Anya set the cup back down, sloshing a bit of the liquid out onto the table.
"Fine. Like I said, I went in for the whole show, natural demon face showing, popping into existence with the big bang and the whole smoke field thing..."
Anya held her breath for a moment as the smoke pushed outward, waiting for the perfect moment to make her announcement. As soon as she judged it past the point of cough-inducement, she let loose.
"Jack Sparrow, you have been adjudged guilty of wronging an innocent female, and your punishment has fallen to my hand. You shall tremble before Anyanka, purveyor of justice."
Anyanka held back her smile of professional delight. She was quite pleased with the way her voice boomed and echoed in this space. The fool should be pissing himself by now.
She took in her surroundings as the smoke cleared. It appeared to be the cabin of one of those sailing ships that were all the current rage. Foggy glass panes let in a little light to her left. Dark planks below her feet swayed up and down, letting her know that they were indeed at sea. A large trestle table took up the bulk of the room to her right. She blinked in consternation as the smoke finally dissipated to reveal a figure lounging at the head of the table.
"That's Captain Jack Sparrow, love," the figure said with a drawling Jamaican accent. She found herself speechless for a moment. The man was leaning back in the chair, one dark boot propped on top of the table as he peeled a mango with a long knife. A strip of rind curled around his beringed hand as the juice dripped down his wrist. He seemed unconcerned about that fact, as the shirt he wore held only a passing resemblance to white linen. He was watching her with one sharp eyebrow cocked under a stained red bandana.
"Excuse me," she said as she finally found her voice.
"Oh, no worries, missy. It's Captain, you see, as I find myself in charge of this lovely ship, my very own beauty, the Black Pearl herself."
"Whatever." The man was clearly daft. "The point is, I am Anyanka, queen of vengeance, and I am here to see you pay for the wrong you have done to an innocent woman!" She brought the tremble and shake back on that last, fully confident that a further demonstration of her power would show him the error of his ways.
Unfortunately, Sparrow also seemed to be a little stupid, because he just looked off into the distance and brought one hand up to stroke the braids in his black beard.
"Could you remind me, who that might be? I'm sorely pressed to remember any innocent women of my recent acquaintance."
Anya huffed. It was within the accused's rights to be granted knowledge of the accuser. Usually Anya took care of business so quickly that it was a nonissue. Unfortunately, that meant she had become a little lax about paperwork in recent years.
"It was a lady of the night that you used to visit," Anya stalled as she tried to remember the woman's name. Surely she had asked?
"Well, that narrows it down a bit, doesn't it? Good to know it's not one of my lovelies who are disinclined to request payment for their favors." Sparrow paused, a pleased smile curling his lips as he twiddled with his beard. Then he looked at her, puzzlement crossing his face. "But once again, I am uncertain of the term innocent. I find it highly unlikely that any woman of such description could be found among the ladies you mention."
Anya rolled her eyes. Men were absolutely impossible creatures.
"Fine. Perhaps innocent was the wrong term to use. The fact remains that you wronged this woman, and I am here to see justice done."
"Hmm." Sparrow continued to look puzzled, though not at all afraid. If only she could skip ahead to the punishment part. Damn that girl for putting in that addendum to her wish.
Anya crossed her arms impatiently as she waited, but Sparrow was lost in thought. He wasn't bad looking, she decided, not for a human anyway. He wore a ring of black kohl around his eyes that made them stand out from the bronze of his narrow face, and his long black hair was bedecked with a multitude of beads and trinkets that flashed whenever he moved his head. More like a crow than a sparrow, she thought.
Anya shifted again. This was ridiculous.
"Well, what?" she finally asked.
"I'm sorry?"
"You said hmm. Usually that is followed by an explanatory declaration. I'm still waiting to hear one."
Sparrow cocked his head to one side.
"Did I? How peculiar." He lifted his boot from the table and sat forward as he began muttering, Anya only catching a few of the words and none of the meaning. "the smoke...and a bit of rum on the side...silent on the dogwatch..." He trailed off, obviously lost in the land of the insane.
"I know," he cried. Anya might have jumped, except vengeance demons didn't do such things.
"Where are my manners?" Sparrow rose gracefully from his chair and...minced over next to her. He rolled his arms in a wild flourish and then pulled out one of the heavy dining chairs.
"Please, do sit down. I'm not a savage in the matter of discourse."
Anya might have disagreed with that, but Sparrow was bent forward over the chair with a disarming smile, his long lashes fluttering over pretty dark eyes. They were brown, not black like she had originally thought.
She sat down.
"Now then, something to drink. Spot of rum, perhaps?" Sparrow was crouched beside her chair, looking up with a smile that hinted at gold and devilry.
"Well, I'm on duty," Anya protested.
"Nonsense," Sparrow said and then clapped his hands once. He rose and practically bounced over to the sideboard, where he picked through an assortment of mugs and glasses before settling on a gilt goblet. He filled it from a pewter pitcher and returned to the table.
"There now, drink up. Finest bumboo in the whole Caribbean."
Anya eyed the cup warily and then decided the hell with it. She needed a bit of fortification. She smoothed her features into those of a human, having long ago determined that was the best way to enjoy human food and drink.
"Well now, that's interesting. Very interesting," Sparrow said in low voice that crept up her spine like a spider. She took a deep drink, using the time to collect herself.
"Mr. Sparrow, I must insist that-"
"Captain Sparrow, if you please."
Anya reigned in her temper. This was just a trying day at work, everybody had them. No use letting it get to her. She forced her lips into a small smile and returned to the conversation.
"As I was saying, Captain Sparrow, we need to return to business."
Sparrow picked up his half-peeled mango and the knife and resumed his task.
"Ah, yes, the matter of the aforementioned woman. You were telling me the identity of this strumpet, I believe?"
He would come back to that.
"I've already said, it was a lady of the night. Have you wronged so many of them you can't tell them apart?"
Sparrow grinned then, a wide smile that revealed a couple of gold teeth and lit up his whole face.
"Au contraire, my good women, I would say that I have wronged no such lady, if their responses are anything to judge by," Sparrow replied with a leer the size of Port Royale.
Pig.
"Now, perhaps we can narrow this quandary down a wee bit. Could you tell me what this gentlewoman looks like?"
Anya pondered. The problem with being so good at her job for such a long time was that her clients tended to blur together in her mind's eye. She concentrated on the latest, smiling as a picture came to her.
"She's blonde."
Sparrow nodded, then cut off a piece of mango and sucked into his mouth from the edge of the knife. He closed his eyes as he rolled it around in his mouth, clearly enjoying the experience. His jaws worked strongly as he chewed and swallowed. His tongue darted between his full lips to catch the juices shining around his mouth.
"Blonde, you say," he said, startling her just a little. Anya refocused on his eyes and adjusted the sleeves of her dress. It was quite stuffy in the cabin. "Not a lady of color, ay?"
Anya shook her head, trying to recall the woman once again.
"That's still not much to go on, love. I've known many a lass with locks of gold," Sparrow said, just before he began licking juice from his fingers.
"She's about my height and build," Anya said with a bit of distraction. Jack Sparrow was practically giving himself a tongue bath. She was surprised he wasn't purring. He looked up after he finished, studying her with a bit of a squint. That golden smile broke out once again.
"Though with nowhere as lovely a face as your own, I'd wager, else I would remember her more clearly." His eyes held hers for a moment and then drifted down to her cleavage, which she had to admit was heaving just a bit. Despite herself she blushed. Stupid human skin.
"Mango?" he asked as he sliced another piece.
She nodded slowly. His eyes returned to hers, dark and hypnotic and deep as he leaned forward. A wet piece of fruit brushed her lips and she opened her mouth. The mango was tangy and sweet and juicy, and the flavor exploded across her tongue as his fingers dawdled at the corner of her mouth. She swallowed, letting her mouth fall open, and then his finger was ghosting inside. Salty tang and sour sweetness tempted her tongue. Then it was gone and Jack Sparrow was backing away.
"Nothing like the sensation of a bit of sweet, tangy flesh on the tongue, is there now," he said with a smile. He sliced off another bit of mango and lifted it to his own mouth. Anya licked her lips and grabbed for her cup. The Caribbean climate did not suit her at all; she was feeling overheated.
"Perhaps this woman of which you speak said something specific about me, something that might call her to mind?"
Anya blinked, trying to recall the subject of the conversation. Ah yes, the hooker. What had she talked about in between the bouts of whining?
"She said you were quite talented in bed, and had the most amazing skill with your tongue."
Jack smiled widely and leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head.
"Did she now? What a perfectly fine thing to say. Of course, the whole quest for vengeance sours me a little on her."
He sat forward, letting his arms snake forward until the tip of his right index finger settled on his lips. She could swear she saw the tip of his tongue flick out to taste it, but perhaps she was projecting.
"Now, that's the thing, you see. For every lady whom I entertain, I spell out her name with a special kiss, if you take my meaning."
Anya took it. Oh, how she took it.
"Don't suppose you remember if it was a long or short name, do you?" Jack looked at her with wide open eyes, an expression so innocent she thought her non-existent heart might break.
"Long. Definitely long," she breathed.
Jack tapped a finger against his teeth, the gold clacking more dully than the rest.
"Hmm. I have quite a good muscle memory, you know. That's why I employ that particular technique. All the names of my lovelies are at the tip of my tongue, so to speak."
Jack stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes as if to look at it. Anya was rather mesmerized by the way it wiggled back and forth.
"Perhaps if I ran through the list I might mention one familiar to you?"
Anya blinked. His tongue had gone back into his mouth when he talked, breaking the spell.
"Memory. Right. Why don't you do that."
Jack sighed grandly, a desolate look on his face as he leaned further forward, his clasped hands nearly brushing her knees.
"Alas. I fear that I am unable to call to mind such facts without reenacting the circumstances under which I originally gained them."
He looked up under those heavy eyelashes, pupils wide in the dimness. A feather-light touch drifted up her thigh, making her shiver despite the warmth of the room.
"Well, since it's my fault anyway", she said, and then reached out to grab a handful of that wild hair and pull him in for a passionate kiss.
"You had sex with a human!" Hallie screeched, interrupting a most pleasing memory. Her friend could be the most annoying prude sometimes.
"Oh, get over it, Halfrek. Besides, I'm not entirely convinced he was human. The things he could do with his mouth! And the rest of it was far from bad. He gave me many good orgasms." She was warm just from the thought of what he could do.
"So you let him off the hook because he was a good lay?"
Anya snorted.
"Hardly. I am a professional, after all. But I couldn't exactly hex his penis into oblivion after that performance. It would have been a crime against the rest of woman-kind." She smiled smugly. And what a penis it was. She was definitely going to look for some companionship later this evening.
"So what did you do?" Hallie prompted.
"I made him lose the next best thing, what he valued almost as much as his anatomy. His ship."
"A ship? That hardly seems like a fair trade," she protested.
"Oh, you just don't understand how much he loved that ship. He might have been painting my name with his tongue, but it wasn't the word on his lips when he came."
Halfrek sat back looking both disturbed and flushed. Anya didn't blame her; she had the same reaction when it had occurred.
They fell back into their easy bantering, but Anya couldn't keep back the occasional giddy smiles that ambushed her throughout the rest of the night. She hadn't been one hundred percent truthful with Halfrek. The reason the encounter was such a black mark on her record was the little caveat she had added to his curse. Oh, she had made sure Captain Jack Sparrow had lost his precious Black Pearl.
Just not forever.