Chapter 9 #3
Lorcan didn’t slow or turn. His jacket stretched over his broad shoulders. The knot of hair at his nape looked lighter than usual against the black leather. In the sun, the color was a rich, deep chocolate.
“What are the Drachvi?”
Nothing. If not for the rhythmic crunch of his boots, he might have been a ghost.
“How did you get a dragonstone? Did you steal it?”
A gust of wind was my only warning. Between one breath and the next, Lorcan loomed over me, his fingers gripping my arms. White fangs flashed as he snarled in my face.
“There is only one way to harvest a dragonstone. I cut the beast’s beating heart from its chest, split it open, and plucked the jewel from the bloody, steaming meat.”
The sword’s weight rested against my leg. Trapped in Lorcan’s grip, I could only stare up at him while he vibrated with intense emotion.
Rage. At last, I’d cracked his wall of indifference. But at what cost?
I swallowed, my dry throat like sandpaper. “I…didn’t know. I thought the dragons were all dead.”
He released me so abruptly that I stumbled backward. “They are,” he said flatly.
We faced each other, the river’s babble steps away. Lorcan yanked down the hem of his jacket as if he meant to straighten it. But it was already straight. Everything about him was straight and hard. Cold and stiff.
“Enough questions,” he said, then turned and walked away.
And once again, I followed. Sunlight danced atop the river, which grew wider and more active, the current breaking around boulders that peeked above the water.
Winged insects flitted among the scrubby trees that dotted the banks.
A few birds chirped tentatively, their mournful notes drowned by the rush of water.
After what felt like another hour, the river curved around a bend. I plodded behind Lorcan, the sword growing heavier with every step. As we followed the bend, a noise brought my head up.
Cyprio’s cart sat on the riverbank, the trinkets and frying pans gleaming in the sunlight. A short distance behind it, a waterfall cascaded from a tall cliff.
I stopped, fear like a vise around my chest. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. I was exhausted and starving. My mind played tricks on me.
But Lorcan looked from the cart to me, something dark and assessing in his eyes. “It seems you knew you were a princess from the start.”
Sudden agony blazed in my hand. When I looked down, I gripped Cyprio’s tiara instead of the sword. Crying out, I flung it away. It landed on the riverbank as a sword, its dragonstone pommel glowing like blood.
My fingers smoked, silver bubbling from a gash identical to the one I’d suffered the first time. As waves of pain crashed through me, I cradled my hand against my stomach and looked at Lorcan.
The waterfall still roared behind him, but the cart was gone.
“What is this?” I gasped, hunching my shoulders against the pain. “What have you done?” And how did he know about Cyprio? I leaned around him, my gaze on the waterfall. “Is any of this real?”
Lorcan shrugged. “People see what they want to see.” He lowered his stare to the smoke curling from my hand. “Does it hurt?”
My fangs throbbed, eager to descend and rip the hint of a smirk from his face. “You’re a monster.”
He looked at me. “Yes.” With the acknowledgment hanging in the air between us, he fetched the sword from the ground.
Then he moved to the edge of the water. He stared into the river, his body a black slash against the blue.
The waterfall continued to spill behind him, its thunder echoing off the rocks.
The sword lengthened in his hand, the steel stretching into a spear with a pointed tip. Water lapped at the toes of his boots.
For a moment, I forgot my pain. Apprehension gripped me as I waited for Lorcan’s next move.
It came a moment later, but I was still unprepared for it. Something flashed under the water. The next second, Lorcan hauled a brawny, bleeding merman onto the bank.
“Fuck!” the merman bellowed, his thick tail thrashing.
Water droplets spattered over the ground.
Intricate tattoos covered the merman’s muscular chest and arms. His long hair was a cross between green and blue.
He squirmed in obvious agony, the spear thrust into the center of his chest. Contempt shone in his brilliant blue eyes as he glared up at Lorcan with bared fangs. “Fuck you!”
Grunting, Lorcan thrust the spear deeper, pinning the merman to the ground. Blood spurted from the wound and flowed over his chest. The merman grasped at the spear, his broken cry warring with the waterfall’s cadence.
I barely heard it. My senses narrowed to the rich, dark blood streaming down the merman’s ribs. It spread under him in a sparkling pool. The scent hit me, salt and sugar coating my throat and lungs.
My fangs shot down. I hurled myself onto the merman, pressing my body flat against his as I buried my fangs in his neck. Blood hit my throat.
Ambrosia. I’d never get enough. The world fell away, a dozen colors spinning behind my closed lids. Deep in my mind, the monster howled, its hunger finally, finally assuaged.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. With every surge of blood, the merman’s heartbeat pounded in my head.
The pain in my hand disappeared, along with every other ache and inconvenience.
My senses sharpened, new colors appearing in my head.
Rich blues. Vibrant greens. Splashes of yellow like the sun.
And over everything, an endless river of dark, dark red.
BOOM. I followed the drum, chasing the flowing river, because who knew when I’d get to taste it again?
I’d been hungry for so long. The river flowed downward, spiraling into a vast sea teeming with life and hidden kingdoms. Sleek marine creatures with sharp teeth and round eyes.
Colorful coral. Waving fronds tossed by the currents. The water grew darker. Went deeper.
But I couldn’t stop sinking. More , a silky voice whispered in my mind. Why not go deeper? Currents beckoned and I followed, chasing the bottom of the sea. Faces flitted through my mind. Old battles rose and fell. Sorrows and triumphs spun past my eyes. MORE , the voice roared.
BOOM…
The drum in my head stuttered. Darkness huddled at the edges of my mind and then smeared over the sea.
Pain exploded in my head. A second later, sunlight exploded in my face. Gasping, I flailed against Lorcan as he dragged me backward, his fingers digging into my jaw.
The merman sprawled on the riverbank with his arms flung wide. The spear protruded from his chest like a gruesome flagpole. His skin was white as chalk, his tattoos more prominent against the stark absence of color.
My back hit something hard and then Lorcan knelt in front of me, blocking my view of the merman.
“Get control,” Lorcan growled, digging his thumb into the back of my wrist. Pain shot to my elbow.
“Ow!” I tried to jerk away from his grip, but he continued digging, his gaze locked with mine. I tugged harder. “You’re hurting me!”
He dropped my hand. Slowly, awareness returned.
The waterfall pounded behind him. I sat against a tree with my skirts spread around me.
Lorcan braced his weight on one knee pressed into the riverbank’s sand.
Water droplets clung to a lock of hair that had slipped its bond to spill over his shoulder.
“Better pain than death,” he said. “You followed him too far.”
The merman. Panic rising, I leaned around Lorcan.
“No,” he said, catching me by the shoulders. He forced me back, his grip uncompromising. “It’s too late.”
My heart stopped. For a second, I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t make my tongue form words I didn’t want to say. “He’s…Is he…?”
“Yes.” Lorcan lifted my hand. With deft fingers, he worked open the laces at my wrist and pushed my sleeve up. Faint tattoos spread up my forearm, the designs like rolling waves. Head bent, Lorcan ran a finger over the ghostly pattern. “But it appears you’re not a lost cause after all, Princess.”
My breath wheezed out. Murderer. I was a murderer.
The tattoos weren’t mine. I’d stolen them, just as I’d stolen the merman’s life.
The blood in my stomach curdled, threatening to come up.
A fierce ache bloomed in my chest. As I struggled to catch my breath, heat climbed up my throat and turned to fire.
Crying out, I slapped my hand against my neck and felt… something.
Warm air coasted over my fingers. With another cry, I yanked my hand down.
Lorcan grasped my chin and forced my head to the side.
“What is it?” I asked, beginning to shake. But I knew. As I drew a shuddering breath, a second breath gusted from my throat.
Gills. I’d stolen the merman’s gills.
Lorcan turned my stare back to his. “You called me a monster,” he murmured. Dark eyes gleaming, he brushed his fingertips over the slits in my neck. “Looks like you’re a monster, too.”