Page 31 of Sustaining
What if the myths were true?
What if—
“Nice sailing, Captain.” Rime dusts his jeans off as he stands.
Ah, what if longer than a second passed and they didn’t antagonize each other? The world may never know.
“We hit some rock and coral reef,” Sinister whispers, his gaze scanning over the edge of the ship to peer down into the waters below. “We’re too far off the shoreline to wade in. Let’s trail around and see if we can get any closer.”
Chaos lifts me with ease, and when I find my balance again, I look out at the dark island still a hundred yards away. It’s quiet here. No birds. Nothing. Even the demanding waves of the sea are a cautious, meek sound. This place feels untouched from the world. It’s a chilling sort of isolation.
“It’s quiet.” Rime’s statement is filled with severe hesitancy. “Nature itself only quiets for predators.”
Predators. Like a few harmless shifters and one sweet demon or…something else?
It takes a bit more magic for Sinister to dislodge us from the coral. Cracking and scraping rakes along the bottom of the ship, and Sin grimaces with each nasty sound that comes from far below. In harsh silence, we travel for over thirty minutes trying to find a safe place to drop anchor. When we round the island, I find we’re right back where we started after only a short amount of time. We’re not any closer than we were before. The sharp rock and coral are still an obstacle below.
Sinister halts his guiding magic. The boat sways in the breeze, but for the most part, we don’t drift far.
“Can you vanish us onto the island?” Chaos glances from the shadowed trees in the distance and then to me.
I swallow hard when I realize how easy this would be if I were a stronger mage.
“No, I have to be able to visualize a place, to know what it looks like to go there.”
Sinister and Chaos both nod, but Rime only glances down over the side of the ship.
“You could always…move the coral reefs.” Rime’s suggestion is carefully worded, and it’s like he knows my response before I even say it.
“I’m not dislodging coral just to make our lives easier. They’re a major part of the ecosystem, Rime.”
He nods as if it truly were an expected response from a beast tamer. He acts like he knows me so well.
The smallest smile pulls at my lips because I know he does and I can’t even deny it.
Without a word, Sinister walks toward the edge of the ship again, peering down at the dark, gentle waves. He seems to consider something for the shortest moment. And then he lifts his hands above his head and pulls his black shirt off in one fluid motion. His abdomen flexes when he looks down and starts unbuttoning his jeans.
Chaos glances to me with his brows furrowing together, and it admittedly takes me longer than a second to question why Sinister is stripping in front of me.
“What are you doing, Sin?”
He kicks off his boots and jeans, and he stands there as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to be here on a naval ship in just his underwear. A smile quirks his lips, and he strides toward me with all the confidence of a demon, but also all the sex appeal of man with every part of himself on display.
“Trust me,” he whispers, pressing his lips firmly against mine.
My fingers brush along the curve of his smooth shoulder for only a moment before he pulls away. And before he does, the faint feel of scales form over his perfect skin. My lips part, and Chaos and Rime watch the demon closely as inky scales slide down over the beautiful tattooed words on his arm. His body tenses, stiffening like even he’s unsure of what he should expect. When the inky color spreads, eating up his jawline and then his face, he looks up at me once more from his spot just near the frame of the ship.
And then he leaps out into shadowy waves.
Fresh wood sinks into my nails as I clutch the side of the ship tightly, staring down at the swaying dark waves, waiting for him; waiting without a breath in my lungs to see him come up.
Where is he?
Chaos’ palm presses the middle of my back, and he, too, watches every wave that slaps into the ship. Rime’s arm tenses against mine while his other hand grips the frame so hard his knuckles turn white.
Minutes tick by, building painful tension in my lungs.
What if the tales were true? What if the water women do exist? What if there’s something deep and dark lurking just beneath the surface here?
