Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Nina
Wychwood House
Nina stayed with Pearson throughout the night for professional reasons—she had never seen a transformation before—and not because she wanted to see him suffer as his body twisted and broke.
Not entirely. Besides, it would be unethical to leave him without assistance.
She was unsure what assistance she could provide beyond water, but the water was plentiful.
Pearson’s transformation was fascinating.
As speculated, he was not a beast. He was something more…
aquatic with fins and scales. Nina worried that he would suffocate out of water but the gills along his neck did not appear to be compulsory.
Perhaps if he were submerged, the gills would become operational.
She itched to research his condition in the grimoires.
While she had read the volumes several times and had large passages memorized, they did not shed much illumination on his kind.
There were hints of secretive enclaves of “pirates” on the northern coast but not fish people.
Pearson’s rigid accent with nasal tones sounded northern, but that was pure speculation on her part.
A careful rereading would be required but she did not have a chance to sleep, let alone research.
The grimoires provided more information on what to expect for the newly monstrous and Nina could recite the facts from memory.
The first transformation was slow, often lasting days.
Bones broke. Bodies reformed. Rational thought vanished.
All traces of the person inside the monster disappeared into the new creature.
Subsequent transformations would be quicker and easier, the grimoires promised.
Nina seriously doubted that. Quicker, yes.
Easier? She could not imagine the process of bones stretching until they broke and then mending themselves ever being easy.
The grimoires advised that often the newly transformed had no control.
New sensations overwhelmed them. They could not judge the strength or speed of their new bodies.
The experience was disorienting and frightening.
Even if malice did not linger in their hearts, they were in pain, and creatures in pain lashed out.
They were a danger to themselves and others.
This is why it was standard practice to isolate and restrain those who were bitten.
Overnight, Pearson sprouted fins on his forearms and along his spine.
Scales now covered him entirely. They shifted from blue to green in the light in the most intriguing manner.
His eyes were large, black, and unblinking.
His capacity for speech had diminished, shifting his pleasantly deep voice into something garbled and unintelligible.
Thankfully, he was not the talkative sort. Mostly he sat and watched Nina and she studied him, writing down her observations.
He should have been hideous. A man transformed into a fish.
In the West Lands, whose environment was notable for its dryness.
Sweetwater Point had a river, a muddy thing that raged in the spring with melting runoff from the mountains and dried up to a trickle in the heat of the summer. The situation was preposterous.
Of course he was breathtaking. His face retained the strong angles that fashion favored, and his inhuman eyes had an unexpected depth. The shimmering scales were lovely by lantern light; he’d be dazzling in full sunlight.
When it was over, the changes usually reverted, leaving the individual weak and exhausted. Usually. Some transformations were permanent. Nina wondered if Pearson would be lucky enough to walk back into his life carrying this secret, or if he would wear an enduring mark.
The pencil lead snapped, gouging the page. Another sketch ruined. She wasn’t much of an artist, and her attempts at recording Pearson’s transformation were less than satisfactory.
“It’s rude to stare,” Nina said, slamming the journal shut.
He warbled in reply.
That was new. Had his vocal cords changed, or perhaps his tongue? Or could he be so far gone that he made random noises?
“Say that again,” she said.
He blinked and repeated himself. Not random noise but purposeful sound. While it was quite impossible to know his words, she understood his meaning. She had stared at him first.
“Don’t be impertinent. I’m recording my observations, not staring.” She stood, her back stiff from sitting in an unforgiving chair. Her stomach rumbled. “Would you care for anything to eat?”
More warbling.
“Well, you should try to eat something. Growing all these new… accessories requires fuel. You’ll be wanting more water,” she said, grabbing the empty pitcher. Pearson had drunk enough to drown an ox. She also needed to restock the stove.
She trudged up the stairs, weary. In her younger days, she could stay up all night on patrol, ride for hours in the saddle, or sit with a prisoner.
Whatever task was required, she’d do it without complaint and be ready for her next shift.
Now, at the terribly advanced age of thirty-four, sitting in a chair in her own home was taxing.
In the kitchen, she found a broth bubbling away on the stove and bread still warm from the oven.
Light streamed in through the eastern windows.
Morning or mid-morning. Specificity required entering another room to check the clock and Nina simply could not be bothered.
It was the day of the equinox, which was all she needed to know.
Nina fixed herself a bowl and cut herself a generous slice of bread, spreading a thick layer of butter and honey on top.
The front door opened and voices carried from the foyer. The family.
“We need to discuss your guest,” Arianna said, settling into the chair across the table. Her father and Aunt Prudy settled on either side of her at the table.
“What about Major Pearson?” Nina asked, shoving the last bite of bread into her mouth. This was an ambush, and there’d be no escaping it.
She did not bother denying his presence. The house was large but not so large as to conceal a man locked in the cellar. Especially when so many of her family could sense a monster’s presence.
Her father, John, had appeared almost immediately when she locked Pearson in and had periodically checked on her in the cellar. Mostly, he let her handle the matter on her own, but she could tell he was brimming with curiosity.
“We’re deeply concerned,” Arianna said. Her father nodded and Prudy pressed her lips together like she was fighting the urge to speak her mind. Her mother continued, “Have you slept at all? And why are you not at the station? Today is not the day to play hooky.”
Hooky . Like she was a child skipping school.
Nina finished chewing and carefully dabbed a napkin at her lips. “I’m currently enjoying a mandatory two-week holiday, courtesy of Mayor Kelley. He was rather displeased with how the situation with Jollett played out in the Founding newspapers and requested that I take a leave of absence.”
Her father’s brow furrowed. “The mayor doesn’t have the authority to do that.”
“I am aware,” she said. “But he does have the authority to review the station’s accounts and expenses, which include pensions, so here we are.”
The expression on his face communicated that he knew exactly why she didn’t want that to happen.
There was nothing sinister or corrupt about his pension.
It was a matter of timing and the powers that be choosing to be compassionate rather than strictly following the guidelines.
John had been a month—less than thirty days—short of receiving the full pension before he was injured.
The difference was minuscule on the calendar but would reduce his pension by half.
“We would weather the storm,” he said.
“Could we?” Nina asked. The mayor’s threat was not a mere storm. It would devastate their funds. She had her salary, but it was not nearly enough to maintain the household and the family’s pursuits. Finances had ruined many of the old hunter families. The Navarres balanced on the same costly edge.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Arianna asked, shifting the direction of the conversation.
So many reasons.
“I’ve been preoccupied with the guest in the cellar,” Nina answered.
“Pearson,” John said with a nod. “Is he warm enough? His form is unusual. Is he a reptile of some sort?”
“He’s more aquatic?—”
Arianna spoke over her, which was fair. If she answered her father’s question, they’d never cease. “Why did you bring him here? You’ve always taken beasts to the station.”
“There wasn’t time. He was waiting when I arrived and the transformation had already begun.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “I wasn’t trying to conceal his presence.”
That was not quite a lie. Pearson had said that no one must know , but she personally did not care a sixpence about keeping his condition secret. Confining him to Wychwood House was convenience, nothing more.
Prudy snorted. “As if you could. There’s nothing that goes on in this house that I don’t know about.”
“We’re concerned that your judgment is questionable when it comes to the major,” John said.
“Perhaps your feelings for the major have confused the situation,” her mother added.
“Feelings? I beg your pardon.”
“He’s very handsome. He wouldn’t be the first monster to turn a hunter’s head.” Arianna held up her hands as if in surrender.
“I assure you, I have no affection for Major Pearson.” The nerve.
“You’re not sleeping and you’ve barely eaten, sweetheart. You seem quite devoted to him,” Arianna said, her tone implying that such supposed devotion was unacceptable.
“I’ve been observing him. It is not… infatuation.”
“So long as you remain professional and remember your duty.”