Page 61 of Wicked Tides #1

Dahlia untangled her fingers from the mangled hair and continued pulling herself onto land with great effort.

She was exhausted. More than that, she was in pain.

I stood a step away as she rolled onto her back, revealing two deep, crescent-shaped patches of flesh riddled with teeth marks.

Scrapes trailed down her arms and bruising covered one side of her ribs like purple paint spills .

Halfway submerged in the water was her long, eel-like tail, glistening under the muted sunlight with faint, silverish hues amid her black lower half.

She let out a strained sound, clenching her teeth as her tail began to curl in on her like a dying snake.

But in doing so, the black dissolved behind peeling, disintegrating layers that turned to the skin I knew so well.

The sinew and muscle split down the middle like a serrated knife had taken to her flesh and bones cracked and splintered, creating two limbs from one in a manner that was both fascinating and grotesque.

Finally, her tail was no more and in its place were her long, bare legs. I gave myself two breaths to gather my thoughts before I was sliding my coat off my shoulders. I stepped toward her, kicking the head aside like a piece of waste as I draped my coat over her naked body.

Immediately after Dahlia had shifted, Meridan burst out of the water in a hurry. Her shift was just as unnerving, but fast. I noticed there were no wounds on her aside from a deep gash on her arm that had already stopped bleeding.

“She needs help,” she said quickly.

Clearly.

Dahlia was shivering. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold or something else that had rendered her so helpless, but she was terribly weakened. Her wounds were severe and I still did not know how the icy waters affected her, but she was frail and spent.

Once she was thoroughly wrapped in my coat, I slid an arm under her legs and another around her back, hoisting her off the cold ground. David came running when he realized what was going on.

“You found her,” he panted, quickly sliding off his coat and handing it to Meridan as if she were a lady and not a flesh-eating siren.

“She’s hurt,” I said.

Dahlia was almost limp initially, her eyes opening and closing as I carried her from the shore. Then her limbs went completely lax. Her head rested on my shoulder and she nuzzled into my warmth .

“That’s it,” I muttered. “Just relax. We’ll get you fixed up. David, run ahead and tell them we’ll need help.”

He nodded and sprinted through the cave toward the village.

Dahlia mumbled something so softly, I could not make it out. I bent my head down toward her as I walked, realizing she was quickly losing consciousness.

“What’s that?” I whispered.

“Are you alright?” I heard her say faintly.

I laughed, barely believing my own ears.

“Yes, I’m alright. I’m Captain Bone Heart.”

“Your heart is not made of bone. You will realize it eventually.”

I hastened my step. As I did, I felt her cold fingers shock the flesh at the center of my chest where my shirt plunged just past the scar over my sternum. My eyes darted toward her touch as she traced the ragged skin.

“It is good you have this.”

“I’d have to agree with you. So? How far did you have to chase her to get her head?”

“Not far. But the fight was long. She did not want to die, of course.”

I turned toward her forehead, my lips unintentionally grazing the top of her head.

“But you were stronger.”

“I had to be,” she replied, her words laced with fatigue when she tossed Meridan a weak glance.

As I strode forth toward the village, I felt her already slack body sag further against my arms like she’d finally passed out. I only prayed it was exhaustion and that no internal injuries were rendering her so weak.

My arrival in the village set off a chain reaction until my men and a dozen villagers were meeting me in the courtyard.

Two elderly women rushed to my side, their hands going swiftly to Dahlia in search of injuries.

One of them began pointing toward a cabin and I could only assume that they had a place for her to heal there, so I headed that way without a fuss.

Onlookers seemed concerned, hovering just close enough to see who I was carrying but not close enough to be in the way.

Even my men looked bothered to see Dahlia unconscious in my arms.

When I entered the cabin, there was a cot made up with thick furs beside a fire that burned calmly in the center of the round building.

I laid Dalia down only for one of the women to shove me to the side.

I stepped back without protest, confident they knew how to tend her wounds better than I could.

I would have splashed a bit of alcohol on it or stuck Lady Mary’s red-hot blade to her bleeding injuries.

Dahlia, for once, deserved more graceful ministrations and I let the ladies work as I turned to face Mullins, David, and James standing just outside the door.

I pushed my way through them and began a hunt for a new coat.

“She gonna be alright?” Mullins asked, trace amounts of genuine concern in his voice.

I turned to him, the bite of the afternoon chill nipping at my neck, and shrugged. “Don’t know. Nothing we can do right now, though.”

Saying those words stung. I didn’t like feeling helpless. I didn’t like not knowing, either. But I knew it was best to find a place to bury my thoughts for a while until the women finished their work.

Better yet, I needed a drink.

I had a new coat. I had a bit of drink in me. I spent another few hours sitting in the courtyard where the large fire never seemed to burn down completely. The warmth of it was soothing and with the village winding down, it was a good time to rest without having to lay down and close my eyes.

“Going to sit out here all night?” a voice said.

I turned to see Gus ambling toward me, hands deep in the pockets of his thick coat.

“Thinking about it,” I said .

He came to stand beside me, peering over the crackling flames.

I’d never stayed in a place so quiet. In Treson Harbor, the water was rough, the people were rowdy, and the bells were constantly ringing.

So far north and so far off the beaten path, things were…

serene. Even a few unwelcome sirens had not shaken the village enough to put them in a frenzy.

“This place isn’t like home,” Gus said.

“No, it’s not. But that attack proved it can be just as dangerous.”

“Maybe not. If there was no one left to return, there is no one left to tell them where these people are. Or where we are.”

“Bad things always find good people, Gus. We both know that.”

“Do we? Cuz we have never been good, boy. How are we to tell?”

I huffed, about to laugh, but not quite amused enough to put the effort in.

“Maybe we don’t know much about good and bad. Maybe there’s nothing to know,” I shrugged. “People think there’s a line between the two. There’s no line. If there is, we just hop from one side to the other when it suits us.”

“You’re right on that. We’re all going to hell,” he chuckled. “But may we be in heaven for half an hour before the devil knows we’re dead.”

“We’ll be lucky for that.”

We stood for a moment longer before Gus slapped me on the back and started to walk away.

“She’s all mended, your siren. She’s sleeping.”

My instinct was to head to the very place I left her when I heard that news, but I refrained, keeping my urges buried where the world couldn’t use them against me.

I wanted to go to her, though. I wanted to see the state of her.

Make sure she was alright. Sickening as it was to admit, I prayed for her to heal swiftly.

I prayed for it because… she did not deserve the turmoil she’d endured the past eighteen years. Of that, I was certain now.

Gus retreated to get some rest and I headed to the last place I saw Dahlia.

When I opened the door, the scent of herbs and oils wafted out toward me in a wave of warm, smokey air.

There was one woman in the cabin rolling up cloth.

When she saw me, she gave me a half-smile and then carried her items out into the chilled air, leaving me alone with Dahlia.

I pulled up a leather stool beside the cot where she slept like the dead under layers of fur and wool. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was doing there. It wasn’t as if my presence could hasten her recovery, but I remained there anyway, watching her.

It only took three breaths for me to see her as the most gorgeous creature I’d ever laid eyes on. Despite the scars and the strange tone of her skin and the ferocity in her eyes, she was beauty incarnate. She was strength, resilience, and mystery captured in the skin of a mystical creature.

Without realizing it, I lifted my hand and gently dragged my fingers down her cheek where the scar I’d given her marked her cool skin.

It made her mine.

What the fuck was wrong with me? My heart flipped in my chest, making me pause.

Warmth flooded my veins and I pulled my hand away, unnerved by the feeling, when the door to the cabin opened.

I glanced over to see Meridan standing in the doorway with a fresh bowl of water. She paused at the sight of me.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Looking after her.”

“ I’m looking after her.”

The corner of my mouth lifted. “Yes, you are.”

Realizing Meridan was feeling uncomfortable with me present, I stood from the stool and took a step toward her. Her ice-white eyes looked up at me, unyielding.

“Do you truly think me a threat after I carried her back here?”

“No.” Her gaze dropped for a moment to peer at Dahlia. “Not in the way you’d think.”

“What does that mean? ”

“Nothing,” she avoided, skirting past me to put the water bowl down beside the bed.

Sighing, I headed for the door, feeling sleep clinging to the back of my eye lids.

“It might not be real, you know,” she blurted out, stopping me in my tracks.

“What might not be real?”

“What you’re feeling for her.”