Page 95 of Curse the Fae

“I will race her,” the guard announces louder.

Elixir shakes his head. “No. I shall.”

His voice grates, the texture sounding aggressive to the spectators. To me, it sounds protective.

A thrill washes through the cavern as the Faeries murmur. Coral had been a mighty choice for an opponent, but a lukewarm form of entertainment. This twist is more enticing.

Condemnation! I should have known Elixir would volunteer. It’s all I can do to stop a protest from lurching off my tongue.

I can’t race him. He’s not the same venomous ruler he was when I’d arrived in The Deep. I need this victory against another Fae, not him. I need to win against one of them, against one of his subjects. I need this race to be genuine. If not, they might see right through us.

Versus Elixir, the race will be compromised. Winning reinforces his authority. But the problem is, he doesn’t want me injured, and he’ll shield me through the whole thing, shredding any danger that gets near.

When Elixir makes a choice, he makes a choice. His word is final, and no one contests it.

The crowd stirs with excitement. They bow in ready acknowledgment, sinking fluidly to their knees. These subterranean beings know it’s a predictable race with uneven odds and an impossible outcome. They must also know Elixir won’t let his sacrifice perish. Nonetheless, they expect the challenge will be painful for a measly human, and they’ll relish the exhibition.

Elixir inclines his head toward me, his jaw ticking. For one so uncivil, he’s good at striking cleanly.

Yet I know better. He’s holding back. He’s mad.

He’s very mad that I’ve put myself in this position.

At the same time, his throat contorts because he’s also scared. So am I.

Make your choice.

Surrounded by the masses, I sidle up to the water lord and offer the bait. “Don’t hold back.”

In the light of hundreds of lanterns, Elixir looms over me, fury and pride tweaking his features. That’s when I know: He understands what I’m doing and why.

His temple throbs, but his eyes tell a different story, burnishing with admiration. “Challenge accepted.”

That gets another rise out of the Faeries. They sing their approval, their melodic voices dancing across the muggy air. However impressed, they must think me foolish. Let them for now.

The water lord whirls and strides away, his robe thwacking behind him. A sea of Faeries parts as he ascends the ramp and steps onto the deck.

“Can you swim, human?” Coral asks, her silver-blue tresses sleek around her dark face.

Unlike beloved Juniper, I refrain from bragging. The last thing I need anyone to know is just how well I can answer this question. “I keep my head above water.”

Her mouth twitches in amusement. “Hmm. I must say, you’re either clever or positively stupid. I can’t wait to find out which.” She sweeps aside and extends her arm toward the plank leading to the ship, with its interlocking serpent figureheads. “And it won’t be about keeping your head above water. Not when you reach The Fever of Stingrays.”

“The what?” I squeak.

But when I show no sign of moving, she shrugs and struts off without me. I follow, ascending the plank with a thousand eyes cast my way, including the spiteful orbs of the merman stationed in another craft.

However, Scorpio’s glower drops the moment Elixir’s head snaps in the merman’s direction. From across ships, the river ruler bares his teeth until Scorpio retreats several paces. After that, it takes a moment for Elixir to pry his attention from the merman and offer me what the spectators assume is a mocking hand.

Hidden in plain sight, it’s him and me. It’s us.

My fingers drape atop his, heat rushing from his digits to mine. Stepping onto the deck, I let go first and shuffle past him, the mermaid skirt brushing his robe, the contact sending a bolt of longing straight through me.

Elixir shows no sign of it, but I glimpse him making a fist at his side. I wonder if he’s debating whether to shake me or drag me into a dark corner and ruin the skirt. Without a backward glance, he turns and marches to the quarterdeck, his serpentine movements claiming the space around him.

I see the way heads turn as he passes. I see the way males and females color in his presence, their eyes lustful and lingering.

Embers of jealousy skid across my knuckles. I’m not supposed to matter, not while crowded in a snake pit. Though his dismissal is for my protection, it stings nonetheless.

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