Page 86 of Wicked Tides
A long, slender shadow lurked just under the water, hair flowing like silk as she moved. Slowly, she surfaced. I watched as her head gradually crowned and she opened her near-black eyes at me. She was entirely silent as she drifted slowly toward the edge of the rocks, quiet as a predator stalking a lamb. She watched me closely, waiting for a reaction to her siren form up close as if she thought I’d suddenly raise my blade to erase her from existence now that she was with a tail in front of me.
But she wasn’t the same creature she’d been only days prior. The image of her shoving David up from the hold as Collin’s ship took on water flashed before me. I was conflicted, seeing both a monster and an ally looking back at me.
While I did not gasp in astonishment at her form, I could not deny its horrifying beauty. She drifted to the rocks, lifting her torso from the water. Her breasts were humble and bare, though mostly covered when her long, dark hair clung to them. Her skin was pallid but with a silvery undertone beneath the moon’s light. Every striation in her slim muscles was visible in that form as if she was built to make a man uneasy. Sharp nails clung to the stone and three slits under her ribs pulsed subtly with each breath as she took in the cool night air. Behind her was a long tail that swayed slowly back and forth. It had a slick, blackish-silver sheen to it. Down her spine was a sharp fin that stretched down to where her knees should have been and at the very end was a flare that cut through the water like a blade.
And her scars. They set her apart from any soft beauty she might have had.
I peered into Dahlia’s black eyes, seeing the slightest glisten of light behind them like a star in the night sky. It was terrifying, like the lure of a deep-sea fish enticing a meal.
She found a flat corner of stone and folded her arms atop it, resting while she watched me. I took another swig of my drink and then relaxed my wrist on my raised knee, swallowing down the satisfying burn of the rum.
“How did you get here?” I asked.
“Most bodies of water lead to the ocean somehow. But I walked, in fact. I can do that.”
A soft breeze whistled through the stones around us, but Dahlia seemed entirely unaffected by the chill.
“And your wounds?”
“They healed, as they always do.”
I nodded, tapping one of my rings on the side of the rum bottle. I watched as Dahlia’s gaze slowly traced over me and paused on my torn ear. I did not expect her to care, so when she reached toward it with her hand, I turned from her touch, furrowing my brows. She drew her hand back with a sigh.
“Humans are so fragile,” she whispered, regarding me like I was a riddle.
“Yes, we are,” I muttered, my thoughts wandering back to Agnes.
“What did she mean to you?” Her voice barely cut the silence and it took me a few moments to realize what she was asking about.
It was as if she could read my mind.
I didn’t know how she even got that information. Perhaps Meridan had relayed something she overheard as we sailed for the Widow’s Smile. Or perhaps Dahlia listened more thoroughly than humans ever could. Both were likely.
“The boy’s mother,” she continued. “She must have meant something for you to be losing yourself in drink.” She paused, resting her chin on her arms. “Did you love her?”
“I suppose in a way I did. Not the way she wanted me to.” My eyes wandered for a moment before meeting hers again. “Not the wayhewanted me to love her.”
“The boy? In what way did he want you to love her?”
“Like his father should love her. But I am not his father.”
“Where is his father?”
I took a deep breath. “Your mother and her sisters killed him on that island. He’d just been born. Never knew him.” I saw nothing in Dahlia’s face that said she felt anything for that statement. I didn’t expect her to. We’d felt more pain than most and knew how to swallow it. It was a pattern that no longer surprised us. “Jack was like an uncle to me. So when I returned, I promised myself I’d take care of his family. His wife and his young son. Most of the other crewmen didn’t have families.”
“Did you not have family?”
“I had a mother.” I took another small drink. “She left the coast behind and headed inland.” I glanced at Dahlia again, watching her gaze drift off into a memory. “David is my family like my crew is my family.” I swallowed, finding the will to say what I wanted to.
“Then you drink for them, too. They will all die on the sea if you do not give up your ship and this life you have.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It is a warning. I will die in the sea, too. It is only a matter of time.”
There was no malice in her voice. Her words seemed suspiciously genuine.
“This is the second time you’ve told me to stay off the water,” I said. “You said the same thing to me as a boy.”
