Page 13 of Blood on the Tide
No longer.
I stop on the rocky beach and look out to where the waves are frothy and white and perfect. Deadly. Not for my other form, but they would break this human body against the rocks. I can hold my breath longer than a mundane human; I don’t feel the cold as intensely as they do, but without my tail, my serpentine body that so easily cuts and swirls and twirls through the water...
I sit on the edge of the nearest boulder and fight against the bitterness threatening to swallow me whole. If I’m not able to find Bronagh, this is the life that waits for me. One where I’m always cast to the side, where I’m forced to watch my family and friends enjoy the very things no longer accessible to me.
Maybe there will come a day when that won’t feel like a sharp burning on my tongue that makes me want to cry. I don’t know if falling into that acceptance is a good thing or a terrible tragedy. I don’t know anything anymore.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that it takes me several long moments to register the feel of Lizzie’s eyes on me. I glance over to find her watching me closely. Even now, there’s a part of me that wants her despite myself. She’s beautiful and dangerous, and there’s certainly no risk that I would get attached with how distant she holds herself. Maybe if I lost myself in a few hours of pleasure, the world would feel a little less dim in the morning.
“Do you think your family will blame you for the loss of your pelt? Is that why you’re avoiding going home?”
The question washes away my lustful thoughts. I twist around to stare at the waves once more. “Of course not. They love me just as much as I love them. They would mourn the loss as if it were their own.” And then it will finally be real. Lizzie doesn’t respond, so I find myself elaborating. “It’s happened before, you know. There was a time when stealing a selkie skin was an honored tradition among sailors. They would take some of their victims as spouses, trapped in one form and perpetually mourning, but just as often they would sail away with no intention of returning. Once that happens enough, bruises enough generations, you learn to cope.”
“Cope.” The word sounds like an insult from her lips.
“What else would you have us do? In the water, we’re nearly unmatched. Even with magic, most humans don’t stand a chance. We’re faster. More agile. We’ve had to be.” I swallow thickly. “But like this?” I wave a hand at my body. “We’re just as human as anyone else. Just as easily cut down.”
She moves so fast not even my superior eyesight can track her. One moment she’s standing several feet away, appearing relaxed—or as relaxed as the vampire ever gets—and the next she’s crouched in front of me, my chin in a painful grip between her fingers. “That’s about enough of that.”
I try to jerk back, but I might as well be encased in stone. I knew she was strong. Apparently I had no idea. “Let me go.”
“Only if you’re done with this pity party.”
Shame is a fire in my blood. She’s right, and I hate that. “Let. Me. Go.” A growl inches into my voice and surprises me so much that I go slack. Where did that come from?
“Better.” Her grip softens slightly, but she doesn’t release me.
The faint pain centers me, allows me to keep speaking. “Even if nothing else was in play, my family has never been happy about my involvement in the rebellion. They’ll blame Nox and their people for my loss, and will stop informing on the Cwn Annwn. The rebellion can’t afford that loss.”
“The rebellion.” Her lips twist. “All I ever hear about is that fucking rebellion. The way I see it, you have two options. You can turn around and walk back to the tavern and be embraced in the tearful arms of your family. You can settle into a life where you’re only half of who you were meant to be.”
I can’t quite catch my breath. “Or?”
“Or we can figure out how to steal a ship and go get your skin back.” She finally drops her hand and rises gracefully to her feet. With the stars in the night sky behind her, she’s a sliver of shadow before me. “It’s your choice.”
It’s no choice at all. It never has been. If I have to learn to live without my skin, then I’ll do it. But not until I’m certain I’ve done everything in my power to attempt to retrieve it. I lick my lips, tasting the salty sea air. My need to be beneath the waves is a craving in my blood that I don’t know how to combat. I’ve never had to before. I want to get back to a point where I never have to again. “I might have an idea.”
“I thought so.” She steps back, gracefully avoiding turning her ankle on the rocks beneath her feet, and motions for me to stand. “Let’s go.”
Just like that.
I turn toward my village and allow myself a moment to memorize the sights and sounds and smells. The bright lights twinkling in the windows. The faint scent of people cooking dinner as they wind down for the day, eager to get some rest before they start again in the morning. The quiet. Most of all, the quiet. I wish I could say goodbye during the day, when people are bustling around and laughter and conversation fill my ears. This will have to be enough. I tuck the memory away, promising myself that I won’t let it dim with time... that I won’t let enough time pass for it to dim. I won’t forget them. I’ll be back.
“This way.” I lead her to a path that’s nearly invisible in the night and head north along the coastline. Once again, Lizzie falls into step behind me with a grace that I might envy under other circumstances. Considering she’s haunting my steps, I’ll save that envy for another day. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end to have a predator so close behind me. I don’t trust her, and yet I have to trust her at the same time.
“Where are we going?” The question is absent of even a hint of curiosity. That’s an interesting trick.
I pick my way along a particularly tricky section of the path before I answer. “I wasn’t entirely honest when I said there were no ships here. We don’t have ships but we do have boats—that’s how I got off the island in the first place. They’re just not meant to sail over long distances. There’s the added problem that if the Cwn Annwn see us, we’re liable to end up in the brig, just like where you found me.”
Lizzie laughs softly, the sound trailing down my spine and seeming to sink its fingers beneath my skin. “If the Cwn Annwn find us, we won’t be the ones to meet misfortune. They will.”
“What are you going to do—kill them all?” The very idea is absurd.
“Yes.”
I start to laugh but stop short when I realize she’s not joking. She means it. If the Cwn Annwn try to stop us, she’ll kill them all. Or at least she’ll try. “Shouldn’t we attempt literally anything else before we try to murder a ship full of Cwn Annwn and potentially bring the whole fleet down on our heads?”
She laughs again, low and throaty. “Maeve, you really need to dream a little bigger.”