CHAPTER 86
If she had had a drink, she would’ve choked. As it was, some strange, incredulous gasp was all that came out. She was sure it wasn’t wise to say to a man with a gun, but the words were out before she could stop them. “Mr. Runington, you can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am. Very serious.”
“You never asked me.”
“You would have said no.”
She almost laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it. “Then perhaps you should have respected that.”
“Perhaps, but you won’t regret this. I promise. I’ll give you anything you want, my dear. And in exchange, you’ll give me healthy children as beautiful as you.”
“But I’ve already told you what I want.”
“What? The lighthouse? Oh, that’s not a want. That’s a delusion. You’ll get over it.”
This man was unreal, so unreal it felt like a dream. But the fact that it was real made the absurdity of it suddenly very infuriating.
But he still had a gun. She had to get him away from the gun or get to her own. And then? Could she shoot him? It should be easy, shouldn’t it, against a man who wanted to ruin her life? So why did it feel like it would still be difficult?
But moral debate aside, first she had to get to the gun. Logic. She had to use logic. “Mr. Runington, did you honestly shoot Mr. Wilson? If that was his blood in the water, if what you said was true about the monster”—she hated even saying that word in regards to Kallias—“then we must go save him.”
“Must?” he repeated. “We must do nothing. Or do you actually like him?”
“That’s a life. Regardless of how I feel about him. How can you treat that so callously?”
“Because he’s already dead.”
“You don’t know that!” Oh, how she prayed he didn’t.
“I do. I saw the beast and what it’s capable of. Ah, or do you not believe me? You don’t seem to.” His smile was absolutely wicked, like a viper, like a demon, like a beast himself.
“No, I don’t,” she growled.
“Is that because you don’t believe in monsters or because you’ve met the mermaid yourself?”