Page 24 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
She’d seen plenty of man-parts aboard theWind’s Favor, and none of them were appealing—though she had to admit both Flay and Jazadri had fine equipment. But the idea of letting one of them insert that part of themselves into her? It made her feel sick.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was the fact that both of them felt like brothers to her.
Into the haze of her mind drifted the image of Rake in human form—stone-white muscle with immensely broad shoulders and a tapered waist—lean hips and long legs. With the belt on, he had regular male parts, too, beautiful and blue-shadowed in places like the rest of his body—human-shaped, but with a hint of his otherness.
She pictured him coming close to her, his azure lips twitching back over his sharp triangular teeth. His nose was smaller and more streamlined than a human’s, and his eyes glimmered—enormous, dark, and liquid. She imagined his clawed fingers wrapping around her shoulders—danger and desire.
And she felt it—a prick of something delicious in low secret parts she barely acknowledged except for the prosaic daily or monthly needs of her body.
The sensation was like a tiny, vibrating sting, delicate and demanding.
Then grief and horror slammed into her like a tsunami, and she lurched upright, suddenly nauseated.
“I’m going to my room,” she said, rising.
“I’ll come with you,” said Baz and Corklan together.
“No.” She worked her way out from between them and steadied herself against the wall. “It’s only a few steps to the inn. I’m fine to go alone.” She’d walked alone at night in her village of Anchel many a time.
“But—we’re supposed to stay with you,” said Baz plaintively.
“She only needs one of us,” retorted Corklan.
“I don’t need—either of you.” Mai had to form the words carefully. “Back off, please. You’re suffocating me. I just need to sleep.”
Dimly she sensed that she’d hurt their feelings, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. It wasn’t her fault, anyway. She hadn’t encouraged anything but friendship; if they had read more into it, that was their problem, not hers.
Somehow she managed to hold her head high and navigate the room without falling. She made it through the front door of the pub, past the outdoor tables. The cloying fragrance of herbal pipe-smoke made her gag, and she hurried to get past the cloud of it. But it floated in front of the inn door, too, breathed out by a cluster of laughing men and women outside.
Mai caught a whiff of sea air, and she turned instinctively toward it, toward the sea-wall and the black water. She crossed the street and threaded through the shipyard, following the fresh crispness of the salt breeze. She needed to bathe her heated body in it and clear her tortured consciousness.
The sea-wall was studded with iron lamp-posts, but they were set at distant intervals, and in one spot a couple of them had gone out entirely. Mai drifted to the cool darkness of that place like a bat to a cave. She leaned against the sea-wall, right at the corner where it yielded to the wooden boards of a pier.
No one was around. It was only her, and the rough chilled stones, and the faint gurgle and slop of the dark water against the wall, and against the hull of a nearby fishing vessel.
Drinking in the cool night air, Mai lifted her face to the stars. The faint impulse to chart them from this new location rose inside her, but the drink quieted the urge, soothing it away.
Deeply she breathed, letting her eyes close, feeling the caress of salt air along her flushed cheeks.
Voices muttered somewhere in the distance, getting closer—she wished they would go away. She wanted a moment to herself, just a moment. She was used to long hours alone in the shed at the back of the inn’s garden, working quietly on her projects; but for days she’d been living right on top of men, so many smelly men. Didn’t she deserve a few rutting moments withoutmenbreathing down her neck and demanding her attention?
“What do we have here?” A caustic voice broke into her calm, and she gritted her teeth.
“Hey lass. What’s your price?” said a second voice.
“I’m not for sale.” Her lids felt too heavy to open, and she swayed a little where she stood.
“Then you must be for free,” said the first man, and they both guffawed as if he’d made a great joke.
Annoyed, Mai opened her eyes and faced the sailors. “Go away.”
“Don’t be like that, lovey. You’re all alone here. You need some company.”
“I like being alone.” Each word felt weighty and warm on her tongue. “Why is that such a difficult concept?”
“Can’t hold your liquor, eh sweetheart? Come ’ere.” The first man reached for her, his coarse fingers latching around her upper arm. She tried to jerk away, but he dragged her close, against the thick hair poking out of his open shirt. “Be friendly, now.”
“Be friendly, sweets,” echoed the second man, moving in behind her, pinning her body between them.
