Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
WENDY
J oanna’s scream rattled my ears as I flew through the air. The slimy limb wrapped around my middle constricted so tightly, all air left my lungs. I tried to yell that I’d be fine, but the monster whipped me away from the Banshee so quickly that wind stole my words and I choked. Motherfucker.
I expected to body-slam the ocean, and I knew without a shadow of doubt it was going to hurt like a bitch, but there was little chance I could curl into a ball to protect my organs when said organs were being squished by a sea monster. A sea god.
I wasn’t even sure I believed in gods, yet apparently one had plucked me off the sea-drowned deck of the Banshee and was flinging me through the cold air. I squinted, not wanting to see the black wall of the ocean coming for me but not wanting to be caught off guard either. I sucked in a shrieking breath when I saw what was actually below me. Not the inky depths of the ocean. A massive, yawning mouth full of teeth. And where the creature hovered just below the water’s surface were a hundred eyes, all a luminous green. When they all blinked at once, my stomach turned over.
That was entirely too many eyes. And too many teeth while we were at it. I flailed my arms, trying to stretch my fingertips to where my knives were strapped to my thighs. I managed to brush my waist sheathe, hope buoying my heart, but I snarled a curse when I found it empty.
And then my stomach shot into my throat when I saw that huge, devouring mouth much closer as the god’s tentacle dropped me lower. My next ragged inhale tasted like rotten flesh and brimstone. I renewed my frantic attempts to reach the sheathes at my thighs, straining for the pocket of my trousers where I’d stuffed with something that could help me, if only I could reach the damn thing. Blood rushed to my head as the tentacle around my middle flipped me upside down … driving me head-first to its many-toothed mouth.
Fuck. Seriously, fuck. I couldn’t reach a weapon, no amount of wriggling or fighting would loosen the slimy limb around my middle, and that hungry mouth was so close I saw moonlight reflect off the ridges on the roof of its mouth. Too close, too close—
I struggled, not caring if I pulled my shoulder out of place. A dislocated shoulder was far preferable to being eaten. Cold steel finally brushed my fingertips and tears rushed to my eyes when I closed my fingers around the handle of the dagger. It was tiny, meant for throwing, no use at all against a god, but I felt better for having it in my hand. If I was going to die, I would die with a weapon in my hand.
Of course, I’d rather avoid dying altogether. I was a big fan of being alive, especially when that promised another night in Captain Hook’s bed. I wondered if we could break it next time. I wondered if—
Slimy acid splashed my arms, a low moan of pain in my throat as the tentacle whipped me into the monster’s waiting mouth. Not good. Very very not good. I lashed my little knife in all directions, trying to cause maximum damage, but it was like fighting a dragon with a toothpick. Acid hit me in all directions, caustic and painful. My skin turned red wherever it touched.
“I’ve had worse!” I hissed at the god, landing on a plush, slimy tongue. I wrinkled my nose, my stomach flipping. Gross. 1 “Worse pain, I mean. That wasn’t a compliment!”
Dammit, now I was talking to a monster’s mouth. I was losing it.
On the plus side, the tentacle had released me, so I could finally reach my weapons. On the really depressing side, the second I reached for them, closing my other hand around the goodies I’d put in my pocket, a gush of fluid and monster saliva rushed around my ankles, rising to my knees.
It took me a beat too long to realise what it meant, what was about to happen. The second I figured it out, I dropped to my knees and slammed both knives into the monster’s tongue, but it didn’t stop its throat flexing in a swallow.
“I am not food,” I snarled, but the mouth moved with more force, more saliva rushing around me, and a chill of warning went through my body.
Oh great, I’m going to be eaten, I thought, and the next contraction of its throat proved me right, dragging my slick fingers from my knives, leaving them stuck there in its tongue as I was dragged down its throat.
The damn thing ate me. 2