Humans are bloodthirsty creatures. It's why wars have been waged since the beginning of time. It's why hangings used to be public affairs and children would cheer the executioner on. It's a primal need, something so ingrained into our being that it's useless to fight it.

At least that's what I'd always been told and what crossed my mind as another man fell to my cutlass.

Stepping over his lifeless body, as blood pools on the weathered wood of the dock, I sighed. When did being a pirate become so boring? Oh, I know. Probably a hundred years after being stuck in the Triangle. And that was three hundred years ago. So when did facing eternity stuck in this endless sea become too much?

Groaning, I cleaned my sword on one of the many bags of goods that littered my path. Get a hold of yourself, Elsie. You didn't fight tooth and nail to become the feared pirate captain of The Revenge just to get bored.

The docks of Tortuga II were always full of items, things that the pirates and other ship-going people brought in to sell. Glancing over my shoulder, at the man laying right where I left him, a smirk grew on my lips. Snagging one of the sacs off the dock, I hike it over my shoulder. He wouldn't be needing to sell anything today and I certainly couldn't let it go to waste.

A squawk sounds over the rushing of the waves. Looking up, I can see the sun glinting off Charlie's metal wings. He rides the wind down to the dock, gurgling his little hello as he lands on my shoulder. For a mechanical dragon, he's surprisingly light, perching on the thin material of my blouse with ease.

"See anything up there?"

His answering squeaks and garbles mean little to me, but the way he shakes his body tells me all I need to know. Sighing, the grip I have on the bag tightens. "Great, I knew I should've gotten up earlier." Hopefully whatever was in the sac on my back would buy me a meal for the day. And maybe, if I was lucky, I could do it all without crossing paths with him.

Looking at Charlie, who was busy brushing his tail across his wings, I shrugged my shoulder to get his attention. "Go stay with Rev. I won't be long." A purring sort of sound comes from his belly as he bumps his head against my cheek. Then he jumps from my shoulder and takes off, back down the dock, and towards my ship. He would keep Rev company, and hopefully, Rev would stop him from chewing anything up. Again.

Ahead, the ramshackle and oddly picturesque town of Tortuga II looms. It doesn't look anything like the real Tortuga, the original pirate town, and I would know — I'd been there. But what else did you expect a bunch of pirates to name an island?

Exactly.

This one was a hodgepodge of different cultures and eras all slammed together and expected to coexist. The wooden plank exteriors that I was used to, connected to huge pieces of metal and other material. The front of some large flying contraption stuck out of one side of Madame Gothie's. It had been added a few decades ago when the thing had crashed into the seas not far from the island. The crew — four men who called themselves researchers — had said it was a called a plane. How anything that big could ever fly like a bird, I didn't know. I'd believe that when I saw it.

Walking down the dirt-packed road, I eyed the people lingering as I passed. If anyone had seen me kill the dock guard, they didn't say anything. Of course, they never did. There would be a new guard out there by the day's end. I turned off the main road and headed for the only place on the island with decent food — Black Beard's Brig. Although the name left a lot to be desired, especially since if you ever did end up in Teach's brig, you sure wouldn't be getting any food. The owner was a friend and she hadn't changed the food since she came to the Triangle not long after I did. Her blackened chicken was the closest to home I'd ever get.

Crackling and the feeling of electricity filled the air. Looking up, I followed the line of wires to the tower sitting high on the side of the hill. It was a huge metal thing that looked like some kind of sore on the side of the rocky cliff. Light flashed from the top every few seconds; sparks flying out into the air around it. The last lightning storm must have charged it to the brim.

Climbing the rickety old steps, I passed through the open door and headed straight for the bar. Setting the sac on the table with a thud, I smiled the sweetest smile I could muster when the barkeep gave me a look, his mechanical eye focusing in and out on my face. "Got something for Willa." My face started to hurt with how hard I was grinning. This damn barkeep better stop glaring at me or I'd give him something more than spilled ale to clean up.

"Leave my staff alone, Elsie. I just replaced the last table you broke."

Tossing the man a wink, I spun around and was face to face with the most gorgeous person on the island. And that included all of the men and women who worked at Madame Gothie's. "Aw, come on, Willa. That had been fun."

She raised a single eyebrow, her blue eyes striking against her dark skin. She put her hands on her hips and I understood all over again why patrons of her lovely establishment never messed with her. But then again, messing with her was so much fun.

I pointed over my shoulder, at the sac of goods still on the counter. "Brought you something."

Her brow stayed raised as she passed me to untie the bag and peer inside. "What is it? Or do you not know?" The look she tossed me told me that she didn't really need an answer. She knew that I had no idea what was actually in the bag.

Leaning on the bar behind me, I rested my elbows and stuck my boot onto the footrest. Looking at her through my lashes, I smirked. "Wouldn't you know it, I just happened to find this bag on the dock. No one was around so I figured it must be for me."

Snorting, she waved over the barkeep and handed him the bag. "Yes, I'm so sure. So will we be needing a new dock guard, again?" She eyed me before walking away, heading for the flap that leads into the kitchen. She didn't even turn to make sure I was following. I might have been hurt if I wasn't too busy laughing.

"I don't see why you all keep putting a dock guard out, anyway. We don't need one." Not to mention, they were useless. And most couldn't hold a sword to save their lives, obviously. Following her into the kitchen, I hopped onto the counter and snagged an apple out of a basket on the way. It was a testament to our friendship that she didn't even bat an eyelash at me for being on her counter.

"We put one there because it makes the people who actually live here feel safer." I snorted. This time, she did toss a look in my direction. "Besides, there has been an influx in newcomers lately. We need to have someone on the look out."

Rolling my eyes, I took a bite into the apple, the juice escaping my mouth and sliding down my chin. Wiping it off on my sleeve, I leaned back when a knife's point was suddenly inches from my face. I followed the silver, up Willa's bare arm, and found her steady blue eyes holding my own.

"I have three newcomers upstairs right now and if they come down here I don't want them to have any trouble. Got it?"

My eyes went from focusing on her face to the point of the knife. With a smile, I pushed the blade out of my space with a finger. "Sure, as long as they don't start anything. I can give them a few days to adjust."

"I mean it, Elsie. There's a kid with them."

All the fun bled out of me like Willa had actually stuck me with her little knife. Children didn't come through the Passage very often, the last one was a good fifty years ago or so. That isn't to say there aren't kids in the Triangle, there are. But it's different for those that come through the same way I did. Something about the Passage changes us, stops us from growing old. But kids born here? They age and die like normal. Looking away from Willa, I nodded once. A moment later I heard her at the stove, cooking something in a pot.

Turning the apple over in my hand, I wondered how the kid was taking it. I couldn't imagine being stuck a child forever. It was hard enough having a mind that was over three hundred and a body that still looked twenty. So much of the Triangle was still a mystery to us, even with new scientists and researchers falling into her clutches every few years. Not that I cared to understand it — I wasn't too keen on growing old. If I ever did die and get to leave this damn Triangle, it would be by a sword. Live a pirate, die a pirate, as an old friend used to say.

A bowl of delicious-smelling stew appeared in front of my face, a spoon resting inside. Smiling, I took the bowl from Willa and dug in. Leave the past in the past, Elsie. No use bringing up old memories. The taste of the stew, however, made pushing the past down harder with every bite.

Hopping off the counter, I left the empty stew bowl by a stack of dirty dishes. Whoever ended up doing those today was going to wish to be anywhere else; it looked like something had been burnt good.

"Remember what I said? You leave those newcomers alone."

Rolling my eyes, I spun on my heels to look back at Willa. She was elbow-deep into cutting up potatoes, her eyes not even watching as the sharp blade as she chops. Her eyes are on me, like she's trying to get into my head or something. "Yes, Willa. I heard you." Turning for the door, I waved over my head. "I'll be back by sunset."

"Don't get yourself killed!"

Smiling at my friend's words, I pushed through the swinging doors and into the bar. But I didn't get very far. A broad chest blocked my path, a metal arm with its gears and valves telling me exactly who was barring my way. Looking up — blast him for being so damn tall — is the face of my personal enemy. "Kal." His hair is pulled tightly back into a bun, he must be planning on sailing today.

The smirk he wears on his face is just begging for me to punch it off. The stubble on his chin a stark shadow in the dimly lit room, making it obvious that he hasn't shaved in a few days. I hate that my brain even takes the time to realize that.

"Well, good morning, Elsie. Fancy seeing you here. Willa around?"

Between that damn smirk and his teasing tone, my hand is itching to grab my cutlass. Or maybe my pistol. Opening my mouth, I'm about to tell him exactly what I'm thinking. But then I catch sight of a child in the corner booth. He looks scared, holding himself to make himself look smaller. One of the barmaids is trying to talk to him, get him to eat. His eyes won't meet hers. The fight bleeds out of my hands, making them go limp at my sides.

Looking back at Kal, his smirk is all but gone. His brows are pulled together in the middle of his forehead. He's probably trying to figure out why I hadn't snapped at him yet or punched him for breathing my air. Whatever, I'm not in the mood anymore. Pushing past him, my shoulder connecting harshly with his flesh one, I stomp my way out of Black Beard's. As the harsh sun of the Triangle blinds me momentarily, I swear I hear him yell after me.