Page 8 of The Withering Dawn (Wicked Tides)

The storm was a monstrous one. I could feel it through the wood of the ship, throwing the vessel this way and that like it was a plaything. I sat close to the bars, gripping them so as not to be thrown from one side of the cell to another. The way the ocean flaunted her unyielding power filled me with awe. I wished I could be under her waves, feeling her like I was meant to. Alas, I’d grown disconnected from the sea in my years being imprisoned outside of it. I longed to know her again, but I feared her at the same time. She was merciless and the creatures that now lurked in her depths even more so.

I could smell the salt and rain in the cool air and savored it, wishing it could just whisk me away forever and make the decisions I was so clearly unable to make. When I took Nazario’s blade to my hand, I had intended to make a point. A point that I was like him. That I could hurt like him and bleed like any man. I believed he took it as an attempt on my life and though the thought had crossed my mind a hundred times, I couldn’t do it. That was a trait my mother possessed but not me. She saw no light in the darkness. Not even the idea of leaving her daughter behind, alone and among wolves, swayed her.

And yet, I had nothing and still foolishly held on.

Hope. Hope was dangerous.

The way the sea writhed and hurled the ship about, up and down and side to side, reminded me so much of my own thoughts. Never steady. Never collected. Always quietly chaotic.

I heard boots on the steps and opened my eyes to see three men staggering into the hold, trying to maintain balance against the rough motions of the ship. None of them were Nazario and immediately I slid away from the bars to the back corner. There was hardly any light in that cabin, but I could see their faces well enough. One of them was the doctor with the glasses balancing on his nose. Behind him were two men with stained, wet shirts and stringy hair.

“We must be quick,” the doctor said.

He set down a leather satchel on the floor and opened it, digging through instruments with haste.

The two men approached my cell and one of them retrieved the ring of keys off the wall. He slid one into the lock and turned it, opening the gate.

“What do we do?” the other man asked. “Won’t it bite us?”

“Grab her, you fool,” the doctor said. “Fast.”

He pulled out tongs and a small, curved blade and immediately, I understood what was happening.

I shot to my feet, pinning myself against the wall as the two men cornered me. But they were hesitant.

“She’s half starved,” the doctor said. “Just get her!”

One of the men lunged and when I sidestepped to evade him, I only ended up in the arms of the other one.

I knew pain. I understood it. I’d been enduring various forms of it since I was a girl. Everyone knew a level of pain throughout their lives. I’d known very few moments without it.

It didn’t mean I enjoyed it. And I enjoyed the feeling of a blade slicing through the flesh of my tongue even less. I’d only just gotten my voice back after so long and I was already attached.

I began thrashing, trying to get away.

Perhaps I should have eaten the broth and meat Nazario had given me. My stubborn rebellion prevented that, but the extra sustenance would have done me good at that moment. I hadn’t felt strong in years, but I knew I should have been able to fight those men if I was at my best.

When the second one grabbed hold of my kicking legs, I screamed, reaching back to pull at the stringy hair of my captor.

“He’ll hear!” one of the men said.

“Not over the storm, he won’t,” the doctor said. “We all agreed this must be done. The captain is not in his right mind.”

He moved into the cell as the men threw me to the ground. One pinned my arms above my head and the other sat on my legs, keeping me firmly in place.

“No,” I said. “No, please! I won’t hurt anyone!”

“Do not listen to her words, gentlemen,” the doctor said calmly, grabbing my jaw with one hand and squeezing, pinching my cheeks against my molars until pain radiated through my face.

I growled, opening my mouth only to snap at his fingers with my teeth. I felt feral and desperate. He drew back his hand and flicked it like I’d actually gotten him and then shook his head.

“We may need to take her teeth,” he said nonchalantly.

“The captain will not like this,” someone said.

“The captain is under her spell. He does not know what he’s doing. We must do this for all our sakes.”

I squirmed anxiously, whipping my head from one side to the other trying to avoid grabbing hands. When the doctor caught my chin again, he managed to shove something between my teeth, preventing me from biting down. Straddling me with his full weight, he hovered, the tongs and the small blade poised over my mouth. I screamed again, praying to whatever god would listen to free me of my own stupid decisions. I should not have climbed the net and gotten on that ship. I should have fled and surrendered to the mercy of the ocean. At least then I would not have built a fantasy around Nazario and his kindness.

I bucked and struggled against my captors, aware the doctor had a blade in his hand and could cut me at any moment. I didn’t care. When I felt the tongs clamp over my tongue I bit down hard, my jaw crushing whatever he’d shoved into my mouth and splintering it between my teeth.

“Hold her!” the doctor yelled.

“We are!”

He tugged on the tongs and in a motion too fast to catch, sliced into the side of my tongue. The burn of the blade sent my body into a frenzy. I used everything I had to lift my hips and throw him off of me just as the sea tossed the ship at a sharp angle. The doctor rolled into the bars with a loud thud and the men lost their balance, allowing me to wriggle free. I flipped over onto my stomach and pushed to my feet, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth.

Someone reached out as I ran, catching my ankle. I went careening to the ground near the base of the steps, but whoever it was lost their grip with just one kick and I began to climb.

I emerged from the hold to see chaos above. The sky was dark and angry. Water was blowing from side to side. The ocean rose up like wings on either side of the vessel as the ship dropped against a thick wave. I heard shouting behind me and whipped around to see Nazario stepping away from the wheel, his eyes fixed on me. Cathal was with him and took over as he marched toward the steps leading to the main deck. With the sound of the doctor and his goons behind me, I could think of nowhere else to flee and instinctively ran toward Nazario, part of me still pleading for the mercy I knew he was capable of.

He reached the bottom of the steps and extended his hands to stop me.

“How did you get out?” he asked, not ignoring the blood seeping down my chin.

“Stop her!” Henry barked.

Nazario’s eyes tore upward to see the three men and, against all expectations, he shoved me behind him, putting himself between me and the doctor.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

“That creature must be stopped!” Henry shouted over the swelling storm.

I clung to the back of Nazario’s coat, glancing up to see Cathal tying off the wheel as if he was getting ready to abandon it and come to his captain’s aid.

“I gave no orders to touch her,” Nazario said.

“Your men do not feel safe with that thing on board. And with a tongue, she could put her spell on any one of us.”

“What happens to her is not your choice to make!”

“Captain!” one of the other men cut in. “Get away from it!”

Cathal stomped down the stairs, leaping over the last bit of railing and landing next to Nazario, his cutlass drawn.

“Yer overstepping, doctor,” he said, standing shoulder to shoulder with Nazario and closing me behind them.

I knew their barricade was not for me as much as it was for each other, but imagining it was set off a flurry of pent-up emotions. No one had ever been protective of me. Not since my mother and I scarcely remembered what that was like.

“I’m saving us. Let me make this hard decision for you and keep your conscience clear. It’s obvious she’s gotten to both of you.”

Cathal and Nazario tossed each other a puzzled look like the thought itself was preposterous. And it was. I hadn’t done anything to sway them. I’d never done anything to anyone save for the man who’s throat I bit out because instinct told me it was the only way.

Without warning, Henry pulled a pistol from his belt and had the audacity to aim it at Nazario.

“That pistol only holds one shot,” Cathal warned.

Henry’s lip twitched like the fact annoyed him. Panic flashed in his eyes again.

“She’s a siren. I should be aiming this pistol at her. Get out of the way.”

Those same instincts that had gotten me into trouble the last time my life fell apart clawed their way out of their little prison and suddenly I was shoving between the two men to get in front of them.

I was small in comparison. The idea that I could shield them from a bullet was ridiculous. I wasn’t expecting to stop it, though. I was getting ready to bite out the doctor’s throat if he pulled the trigger. He’d threatened me with pain and mutilation and now he was threatening his captain. The man reeked of dishonesty and bad intentions and it was clouding my senses, making my teeth ache.

Henry’s eyes dropped to look at me, wide and twitching like he didn’t know how to respond. Behind me, I heard the familiar sound of a pistol hammer being cocked back and next thing I knew, Nazario’s arm was extending over my shoulder to aim his weapon at the doctor. And then Cathal was doing the same thing on my other side.

The two crewmen at Henry’s back scurried to pull out their pistols, but in their frantic rush, they were catching on their belts. The ship lurched sideways, throwing all six of us off balance. I fell back against Cathal and he stumbled onto the steps with a frustrated grunt. Nazario righted himself against the railing, but one of the other men slid right off his feet and toward the edge of the ship. With a scream, he tumbled over the side and into the raging water below.

Henry staggered, flailing to grab hold of anything he could. As he did, he fired a shot, blowing a small hole in the steps right next to Nazario’s head. I pushed off Cathal, a red haze of rage falling over my eyes, and sprinted toward the doctor. His companion saw me and took aim, so I pivoted, driving him against the mast. I shoved his wrist upward and the pistol fired into the air. My gums throbbed as my teeth changed shape, growing to sharp points just before I clamped down on his neck and tore into his tender flesh. He screamed, but not for long. When I drew back, taking a large chunk of his neck with me, his scream turned to a wet gurgle and his body flailed to the ground, rolling as the ship tilted to the other side. I reached out for the mast only to see Henry with his arm drawn back, his face ghostly white and full of terror.

Sharp pain exploded through my skull when the butt of his pistol connected with my head.

Stars danced across my vision and then faded to nothing but blackness.