He squeezed the trigger. Smoke plumed and the crack echoed around the harbour.

Eyes wide, she ducked, glancing over her shoulder where the shot had sailed, clear of her by a foot, and—

And she laughed. Laughed.

Wild Hunt take her—who the hells laughed at someone shooting at them? And, gods, what a laugh—she tossed her head back and even from here, her eyes shone brightly.

Heart pounding the searing rage through his body, Knigh ground his teeth.

Why the hells weren’t they moving? Gods, he needed to get a hold of himself. He swallowed and took two long breaths. In. Out. In. Out.

Unlocking his jaw, he cleared his throat. He was captain, he needed to maintain control. Lords and Ladies knew he couldn’t afford to lose his head, not like last time. Never again.

He blinked. Focus, Knigh. What was the state of his ship? He hadn’t heard the sails unfurling yet, and they’d had plenty of time. They’d drilled this—he ran a tight ship, and they could be ready in four minutes thirty-two seconds.

“Munroe, what the devil’s taking so long with those sails?”

As if in response, the flap of canvas sounded. He blew out a relieved breath—they’d be after her quickly enough, and as soon as they were out of port, they’d be able to fire on her safely. That would teach—

The sound was wrong—that wasn’t a sail catching the wind.

Voices rose in dismay.

“What the—” He turned in time to see all three mainmast sails fall, detached from their yards, so they just fluttered uselessly from their buntlines. Then the foremast sails, too. “How—” His heart clenched, stealing his breath with a moment’s pain. The mizzen topsail followed suit. Only the spanker, staysail, and flying jib remained, and they wouldn’t get the Venatrix anywhere.

It wasn’t possible. He was so careful, his crew well-disciplined. Sails didn’t just come untied from the yardarm.

Unless …

When he turned to The Morrigan, Vice was grinning, eyes glinting, unsurprised. She passed just yards away and gave a little mocking bow, hair tangling in the breeze that carried her ship unerringly out of port. The same breeze blew his own sails across the deck as the crew ran to gather them together.

She had done this. Somehow. She must have snuck on board after they arrived yesterday, sabotaged the sails, and then left, all without raising the alarm. What kind of lunatic pirate boarded a naval vessel?

She winked, lifted her hand to her lips and blew him a slow kiss.

His skin burned. He’d only wanted to catch her for the handsome bounty but now …

Barking hoarse orders, he gripped the rail, knuckles aching and white.

Now, she’d made it personal.

The Clue