31. The Monster in the Mist #3
She needed the sword. She couldn’t leave it here in this creature that had taken enough from the pirates, from her.
Then she realized—too late—that in her struggle to free the sword, she’d been dragged too far, too deep to make it back in one breath.
She let the hilt slip from her fingers, watching it glint one last time as the creature fell deeper still, motionless as it returned to the hell it came from.
And then she hung suspended, frightfully close to drowning while freezing water greedily sucked the heat from her skin. It pressed on her, waiting for her cold lips to part on a desperate, killing breath so it could rush in and consume her from the inside too.
She gave a single sob. As the bubbles lifted, she weakly kicked to follow, pulling herself upward as they raced away. Despite all of Stede’s and Jack’s efforts to keep her fed and strong, her body couldn’t withstand this. It was too much, and her hope of overcoming it dwindled by the second.
The serpent had dragged her too far, and she was going to die.
There was no question about what she’d done or whether this had been worth it. She’d killed the beast that killed her friend and an untold number of many others. But if they were alive, if those she loved had survived, she was glad to have spared them.
And maybe after this, she’d finally be with her father and all would be well.
Jack’s face wavered before her like a mirage. How lovely he’d been to want her, to love and accept her. His heart would break for her, and she wished she’d had more time…
But then the face became clearer, and it was not a mirage. Nor was it Jack.
It was the same face she’d seen this morning, absurdly beautiful, his features pale in the black water. His eyes and hair were dark as obsidian, and so were the glimmering scales that flowed from his waist into a long, beautiful tail.
Cecily jerked away, but the merman followed, his brows pinched as he studied the pendant at her throat. He extended long, webbed fingers, each tipped with a sharp black claw, and touched the small turtle. His head tilted, considering, and when his eyes flicked to hers, he swam closer.
He didn’t look at her like she was prey. Even so, she waited for his fangs to sink into her, to tear out her throat as his arms slipped around her, holding her as tenderly as a lover might.
Then, with a powerful flick of his tail, they shot toward the surface.
This creature wasn’t killing her, but she was too desperate for air to be properly shocked. Death, once again, didn’t seem interested in a quick end for her.
The weight of the water began to fall away, but as Cecily looked up and saw how far they were from the light, she knew she still would not make it. Her vision swam and her lungs burned, begging for her to breathe. A second or two more, and she would give in.
The merman felt it. He released her waist, his eyes tight, and took her head in an impossibly tight grip. Suddenly, his lips were on hers, parting them with his tongue and sharp teeth.
She clawed at him, dragging her nails over his face, his chest, his arms. He didn’t let go as he breathed into her, filling her lungs with air. But even as a corner of her mind knew he was saving her, the rest of it bellowed that he was kissing her, forcing her, and he was too strong.
With one hand, she shoved at his hard chest, and with the other she curled her fingers beneath the scales at his hip and tore them up and out. He jerked away with a piercing, inhuman cry.
Now free and full of breath, Cecily clawed her way toward the shadow of the Fortuna Royale. She could make it. She would survive—
A hand wrapped tightly around her bicep and yanked her upward.
Cecily yelped at the suddenness, but the creature only dragged her through the water, swimming so much faster than she could.
He watched her cautiously out of the corner of his eye, his tail leaking a dark stream of blood from where she’d pulled away his scales.
The surface neared, and with a last heave of his arm, he tugged her into the cool, brine-kissed air.
She gasped, heaving one greedy lungful of breath after another.
The Fortuna Royale floated mere yards away, completely whole and no longer shrouded in mist. Survivors hurried around on board.
“I’m here!” Cecily shouted, her voice hoarse. “I’m down here!”
Hester’s face appeared over the rail. “Cecily!” She looked over her shoulder to frantically call, “I found her!”
A ladder was thrown over the side, and the creature swam her closer as Jack rushed to the rail, his eyes wild.
“I am sorry,” the creature called to Jack, moving away from Cecily as soon as she clung to the ladder, her limbs shaking and lungs heaving. “She would have died had I not done it.”
Jack looked ready to hurl himself down the ladder and carry Cecily up himself. “Done what?” he demanded.
“Keep her in the sunlight as long as you can,” the creature said. “And if there is none, put her near fire and light. If you wish to keep her, do not let her reach the sea.”
Then he disappeared beneath the waves.