Page 46 of Not Today, Satan
“Devica,” he whispers.
I snap my head away and stare at the wall of the boat, my fingers coiling against my stomach.
It has to be the human side of me relating to him this way. It’ll disappear when he does, as will the desire to press my body deeper into him and never leave the peace of this boat, even if it means staying on the water.
Another group of arrows screech over us, piercing my thoughts. They tumble into the water with tiny splashes.
Right. We’re still under attack.
“Well.” I clear my throat. “We’d better get moving if you want to get back to the oceans on Earth.”
“Yeah.” The word is coated in sadness.
I push myself onto my elbows to get an idea of our position, and an arrow soars toward my face. Dropping onto my back, I hold my breath as it streaks over us and drops in front of the dinghy.
“Guess we’re rowing from down here.” I reach for my oars and curse under my breath when my fingers encounter only air. “Uh, Nate? I dropped my oars. Do you think you can get us moving with yours?”
“Maybe,” Nate says. “But it’d be easier if we each take a side.”
He waves an oar over my face. I angle it into the water, tightening my grip so it doesn’t fall. If we lose another oar, we’re screwed. Stuck going in a circle till the souldiers reach us. Or the things in this lake do.
“Okay.” I tighten my jaw. “We have to row at the exact same time. On three. One…two…three…row.” The water sloshes around us, and the boat is propelled forward. I breathe slowly against the movement and reposition my oar. “Again.”
Another cluster of arrows scream across the sky.
They’re too high and they rain down on us, plunking into the water and between our legs. One pierces the hull of the boat beside me, the tip slicing through the wood like teeth. I hiss as it scrapes my shoulder, drawing blood.
“Are you okay?” Nate asks, panting hard as he rows.
“Yeah.” I ignore the burning in my arm and maintain our speed with my oar. “Just a scratch. Faster.”
He complies, and I match his strokes. We find a rhythm quickly, oars slicing through the water to a steady beat. I glance up every so often to confirm we remain on course before dropping my head back into the boat.
Eventually, the arrows fall short of us, plopping into the water with small splats. When the cries of the souldiers turn to distant echoes, I sit up.
Lapis has retreated into the horizon. From here, the stone walls and torches look like buildings in the distance.
Ahead of us, Lot Eight looms. Its size is impressive. It occupies the bulk of the horizon, the trees surrounding it cutting eerie silhouettes against the suns in the sky.
A chill creeps across the back of my neck, and I tug my cloak around me. We’ll have to skirt around the land and hope we can find a shore that’s not occupied with more souldier camps. There’s no way I’m going into another lot.
Nate pulls himself into the seat across from me, his face contorted as he holds the dripping oar above the water. “It looks like blood.”
“It is.” I rotate my shoulder, attempting to get feeling back into my arm. “Father’s nothing if not gruesome.”
“His reputation on Earth is well-earned.” Nate eyes the bottom of the boat. He leans forward and lets out a low mutter. “Uh, Devica?”
“Yeah?” I settle my oar between my legs and lift the hair from the back of my neck. I thought Dominus was hot, but at least we didn’t have three freaking suns to contend with.
“Do you think this might be a problem?” Nate holds up an arrow, the tip dripping red.
“Where’d you get that?”
“From the bottom of the boat. It pierced a hole right through the keel. I wondered why my foot was wet—and, well… I don’t think it’s the only arrow that damaged us.”
“What?” I lift the hem of my dress and gasp. My boots are leather, so I hadn’t felt the thick, red goo surrounding my feet. And it’s spreading toward my calves.
The breath whooshes out of my lungs, and I hug myself, rocking on my seat.
