Page 3 of Blood on the Tide

“Liar. You’re quite fond of me.” They swim to the ship and haul themself out of the water.

I follow as quickly as possible, wanting to put the dark depths out of reach. Something could still rise to slap me off the side of the ship, but at least I’d have a chance to see it coming once I’m in the open air. I can’t stop myself from breathing a shaky sigh of relief when my feet leave the water.

Dragging myself up and following Nox’s path gives me an excellent view of their athletic body. Hard not to notice that the perfection of their face seems to extend to every part of them. If they weren’t such a pain in the ass, maybe I would take them to bed.

“What’s this asset of yours look like?”

Nox glances over their shoulder down at me. “Red hair. Freckles. Short and plump. Her name is Maeve. Don’t murder my girl, Lizzie. I’ll have to do something unfortunate if you do.”

I don’t bother to answer. Accidentally murdering the asset would be sloppy, and that’s a word that will never be attributed to me. “Worry about yourself. Don’t get stabbed or blown up while I’m doing all the heavy lifting of killing everyone.”

For once, Nox doesn’t have a smart answer ready. They just keep climbing, tension in their lean body. I follow. The thrum of excitement in my blood is a welcome emotion. A familiar one.

This is what I do. What I was made for.

I’m not a person intended for peace, and while there have been a few fights in the last three months of sailing on the Audacity, there hasn’t been anything challenging enough to work off the tension constantly coiling inside me.

I send out a pulse of my power, the bodies of the crew lighting up in my mind. Too many heartbeats to stop at once, especially since half of them are warded. I poke at the closest to me, testing the ward as I try to move the blood in that person’s body to my will. It responds sluggishly, but it does respond. I grin, letting the chains of civility fall away, taking away the last of my lingering fear with them.

This is going to be fun.

chapter 2

Maeve

I’ve been in some tight spots in my time, but this is the worst to date. I crouch in the stinky cell in the brig, warily eyeing the five men leering at me from the other side of the locked door. I’ve been on the Drunken Dragon since they caught me out in the open three days ago. I should have known my skiff couldn’t make it from Viedna to Khollu without something bad happening. But it wasn’t the storms that hit this time of year that got me into trouble.

It was the damned Cwn Annwn.

The ones who supposedly protect Threshold from monsters but are more monstrous than any of the creatures they murder. I press myself against the grimy wall as one man reaches through the gap in the door to attempt to paw at me. Perhaps I should be grateful it took them this long to decide to come down here to menace me, but it’s hard to be grateful for anything right now. I’m exhausted, dirty, and in serious danger. Worse than all that combined is the fact that I’m missing a vital part of myself.

No matter what else is true, I’ll go down fighting.

“Come here, pretty.” The pawing man makes another grab. “Don’t make us go get the keys. Unless you do want us in the cell with you...”

I snarl at him, but it sounds pathetically weak in my human throat. If I had my pelt, they wouldn’t dare try to touch me with those awful filthy hands. They’d be too worried about me ripping out their throats. If I was whole... But I’m not. If I can’t get out of this catastrophe, I never will be again.

I’m still trying to figure out my next move when the jingle of a key stops my heart in its tracks. I’m out of time. If I get trapped in the cell with them, it’s over. My only hope is to run, to place my bets on the captain not being a total monster willing to allow his crew to assault his prisoner. If they’re here with the captain’s blessing, or at least his nonexplicit consent, then I’ll have to throw myself over the railing and hope for mercy from the sea.

But the voice that speaks next isn’t gruff and ragged from a life of sailing. It’s soft and light and damn near melodious. “Am I interrupting something?”

My would-be attackers don’t get a chance to respond. I don’t see what happens. One moment they’re starting to turn toward the new intruder, and the next, their limp bodies hit the ground, blood blooming at their mouths and eyes and ears. Revealing my... savior?

At first, I think they might be one of my distant cousins from the north, their dark wet hair clinging to their face and shoulders, but then I notice their clothes. This person, this savior, comes from one of the realms, not from Threshold. They have to, because I’ve never seen pants that mold to lean legs quite so effectively, or a top that doesn’t appear to have seams. Maybe the captain scooped them out of the sea when they went through the wrong portal and ended up here?

They step lightly over the bodies—because they are bodies; not a single one of them has drawn breath since they hit the floor—and insert the key into the lock. “You must be Maeve.”

Now that the light from the window behind me is shining on their face, I can’t quite find my words. They’re beautiful. It’s a kind of beauty that would make my hackles rise if I had them, the sort designed to lure in the unwary. This is a predator right down to their bones.

The door swings open on rusty hinges. I make no move to step forward. “You have me at a disadvantage. You seem to know who I am, but I have no idea who you are.”

Instead of waiting for me to make my decision, they step into the cell. Suddenly, there’s not enough room. Not enough air. Not enough anything. Their eyes flash crimson, and an unmistakable pulse of magic flares in my blood. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s incredibly unsettling.

I jerk back a step. “What are you doing?”

“Checking you for injuries.” They’re still watching me closely, and there’s something in their expression that makes me think of a wolf eyeing a particularly juicy deer. “You seem well enough, if a little dehydrated.”

I have to put some space between us, but I can’t do that with them between me and the door. “Is this a rescue mission, or are you planning to pick up where those bastards left off?” I flick my fingers at the fallen pirates.