Chapter 20
“How much blood should we take?” James asked.
Fian groaned, but only half of it was pain from the cut on his wrist. The rest of it was fury, bright as the embers in Kai’s eyes, deep as the dream ocean which held secrets those two wannabe witches cold never hope to know.
Those are them, the humans who hurt Kai, who made him taste lost and desperate in that changing room.
He never finished that filled conch shell rice, and he cried out all that salt because of these barnacle men.
Nick looked down at Fian, triumph in his mud-colored eyes. “That should do it.”
The barnacle man—the vilest—held a small bowl brimming with Fian’s blood.
Fian struggled to speak even with the gag in his mouth. He was done being silent.
James snickered. “Look at that. Now he’s complaining.”
Nick didn’t say anything, simply held Fian’s gaze for a long moment. Then he pulled the filthy gag out of Fian’s mouth.
“Last words, demon?”
“Last words? Who knows. That ocean hasn’t been crossed yet. Kai slipped your magic. He’s free now. You can’t have him back.”
Nick’s smile was an ugly thing, like something dead washed ashore that had rotted there. “He put out for you? I guess he’s easy like that. Maybe we’ll keep you around long enough so you can watch him coming back to me. He used to be so good when I had him.”
“Yeah, really good,” James said, licking his lips.
“As if you know anything. As if you care. As if your rotten hearts could understand affection.”
Nick tapped the bowl with his finger. “We don’t need affection when we have this. The demon power juice is better than affection.”
He pulled the gag back up, stoppering Fian’s mouth. I cannot let them do this, Fian thought and struggled against the ropes, against the magic that bound him.
The two witches stood and turned to a camping table of all things. They had placed witch paraphernalia on it. Fian couldn’t see much of it, and he wasn’t sure all of it was even effective to begin with. His blood though, his blood would give them a shot at power.
They began a low chant, the locating spell. It rose like a foul odor from the blood bowl because of the way they wove it, none of it as beautiful and smooth as demon magic. Their sickening intent, too, leached into it, tainting it even further.
Blasted sea ice and cursed shipwrecks, Fian thought, wiggling harder.
“Whoa, look,” said James. “He’s close. Real close. Can this be right?”
No. Oh, please. Don’t tell me you were foolish enough to come back for me, Kai! I meant for you to run to safety!
Nick looked into the bowl, shrugged. “Saves us from having to go and pick him up. Dumb motherfucker though.” He glanced at Fian. “Maybe he liked being with me a lot more than he likes you.”
The two of them walked out the surprisingly sturdy door of the boathouse. It fell shut behind them, leaving Fian alone with his fury and the general sense of being useless, of failing at the one thing that should have been easy: protecting Kai and keeping his promise.