Page 16 of Citrine

"You were going to throw me in there," I spit out, my words dripping with venom, even though I doubt he understands English.

"It's because of you I have this injury," I point angrily at my leg, the pain pulsing with each beat of my heart.

His expression remains impassive, devoid of any flicker of emotion.

I suppose taunting him isn't the best idea, though can it really get worse than something planning to kill me?

Then he speaks, his voice reminding me of whale song. "You stink."

I can understand him. But why?

Thinking back, I realize I was making the same whale squawks instead of English, and I realize it really can, in fact, get worse.

"Better than ugly," I hiss out at him.

He blinks at me. Slow and with menace. "A voice stealer."

The threat in his voice is clear.

I scramble to get myself away, my eyes scanning the ground until I find a sturdy tree branch.

I grab it, using it as support.

The pain in my ankle flares up, but I grit my teeth and push through it. I tried to flee, and know confronting him is foolish, but I can't live in fear.

I've been through worse.

I think back to when I left my stepfather's house—another bastard who thought he could control me. He thought I would stay in fear, just like my mother.

Then I picture the blood blooming on his chest and wait for horror to follow, but it doesn't. He had it coming.

I open my mouth to tell him to go away, hoping that it will make him stop following me, but no sound comes out.

Despite my bravado, a surge of anxiety flows through me at the thought of challenging someone. That never ends well, and hereI am mouthing off to something that looks like it was made to kill.

Revels in it, even.

Stop being stupid, Eli, I chide myself.

I watch, wide-eyed, as the creature's thin lips move, forming each syllable of whale song with chilling precision. "You can't keep my words, my voice," his tone is low, but there's violence in his words.

Tentacles start to move against him, as if they are trying to dislodge something, and the sight makes me gag. Then one of his arms with its weird pinchers start scratching at his skin.

"I will kill you. Some day." His tone is calm, but beneath the surface, I can sense the simmering anger.

My mind stutters to a stop for a long moment.

His gaze roams over me.

Then he turns away, a clear dismissal as he turns toward the water. He dives into it, launching himself with his powerful tentacles, his movements fluid.

Every movement screaming predator.

I assume the itchiness of his blue skin drove him to seek relief in the water. His head pops up soon after, two of his long green tentacles lifting toward me in an unsettling way.

Instinctively, I take a step back, dragging my injured leg along with a stick for support, as he swims nearer to the shore, his alarming presence looming closer with each stroke.

"I will crack open your skull and feast, but not today."

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