Page 76 of Close Quarter
Vasil furrowed his brow. Then the skin smoothed. "Perhaps," he said. "Take me to Mr. Quint, and let's see how bad the deck is."
Silas was where Rhys had left him, his eyes closed, one hand wrapped around the handle of the sword resting across his thighs.
No one else was on deck--at least not in this section.
Vasil slowed to a stop and peered around the deck. "I don't see the issue."
The deck was covered in coagulating blood, smeared in some places, and the smell--how could he not notice the smell?
Because Vasil couldn't see what he did.
"Silas."
Silas opened his eyes and exhaled. "You found him."
"I thought you said--" Vasil then spoke in a language Rhys didn't know. He made three quick gestures over his chest--the sign of the cross, but not in the way Rhys was used to.
Silas's chuckle was wrapped in pain.
"Quite."
Rhys ignored everything but the pale, sickly cast to Silas's skin. He crossed the deck and placed a hand against Silas's forehead. Either his own skin was cold or Silas was burning with fever. "What happened?"
"Nothing." Silas brushed Rhys's hand away and then wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his coat. "Poison claws. It's a bit hard to rejuvenate a liver and fight that at the same time."
"Holy Mother of God," Vasil said.
Rhys lowered his voice and gripped Silas's shoulder. "Let me help you."
"Later." Silas didn't push his arm aside this time. "We can't afford to have both of us weakened. And you need to help Vasil."
The waiter looked about ready to heave the contents of his stomach over the railing. "How is it that you live?"
"I'm stronger than I look," Silas said. "Even now." He glanced up at Rhys during that last comment.
Vasil inspected the planks of the deck for a moment. "Do you truly work for angels?"
Rhys's face felt hot. He probably should have mentioned his conversation with Vasil to Silas at some point.
Rather than responding with anger, Silas smiled. "I do, yes." He held up his sword. The edge glinted in a manner no blade should, like a blaze of tiny stars. "A gift from them."
Vasil followed the path the blade cut through the air. "I will help you." His gaze fell on Rhys.
"I'll need your assistance."
Silas gripped Rhys's arm. "Be kind to him.
He's seeing more than any mortal should."
Rhys swallowed past the lump in his throat and nodded, then followed Vasil toward a door marked with a STAFF ONLY sign.
Vasil was mortal. But what was Rhys? Not quite human, not nearly fae. Dark tendrils of doubt crept into Rhys's mind. If he hadn't met Silas, would he be oblivious to the vampires? Would they even have noticedhim?
Had he never spilled drinks on Silas, would he still be a normal human, as mortal as Vasil?
He couldn't pin a label on the emotions rolling inside him. What he most wanted was for Silas to be safe.
The rest he'd deal with later.
