My pulse raced as I hurried toward the exit. A few paces from the door, I caught sight of my master gunner, Chops, who was named after the full sideburns that swallowed his narrow face.

I swept past him, pausing long enough to whisper, “We’re weighing anchor. Gather the others, or I’ll leave without them. Where’s Reynolds?”

“Outside.” He rose from the chair without question, responding to my urgent command just as he would on the ship.

I dashed out the door and found Reynolds leaning against the building with his lips fastened to the neck of a pretty blond girl.

Damn me to hell, my timing was horrible.

He lifted his gaze, sensing me instantly.

“He’s here,” I mouthed and took off.

I didn’t need to elaborate. The pounding of his footsteps caught up and stayed with me through the town, past the tents on the beach, and down the long stretch of the pier.

“Did he see you?” He gripped my arm, halting me at the first jolly boat.

Found you.

“Yes.” With a shiver, I peered out at the dark sea, wishing I could see Jade on the black horizon. “He’s toying with me.”

He released my arm and turned toward the moonlit shore. “I’ll kill him.”

“No.” My chest tightened. “My edict on that hasn’t changed.”

No matter how much I detested Priest, I wouldn’t survive his death.

“Very well.” He untied the boat tethers. “Get in. We’re not waiting for the crew. They can cram into the second jolly boat when they catch up.”

My hands trembled as I patted my hidden dimity pockets. My fingers found the hilt of my dagger, but my other pocket was empty.

Empty. Empty. Empty.

A gasp strangled in my chest. “My compass. It’s missing.”

“God’s blood, Bennett. How?”

He knew it had belonged to my father and that I treasured it above all else. But he didn’t know it was the only map in existence that led to Edric Sharp’s infamous treasure. I’d only ever told two people. Charles was dead, and that left…

“Priest.” My stomach sank. “In the tavern, he sneaked up on me from behind. He must have taken it then.”

“We’re leaving without it.” Reynolds grasped my waist and moved to lift me into the boat.

“No!” I pushed back and planted my feet onto the pier. “Release me at once!”

He jerked his hands back with a growl. “I overstepped.”

“Yes, you—”

Footsteps sounded behind me, the tread of a single pair of boots approaching from the shore.

Beads of sweat trickled between my breasts and gathered beneath the stays. I knew that lazy, arrogant gait. I feared it.

So did Reynolds.

“Get in the boat.” He removed the cutlass from the sash at his hips. “Please, Captain.”

Fastened on the shore, his eyes confirmed who was coming, and a war waged across his savage expression.