She had to be sure of him. He seemed to have a kind of fascination with her; at least, his eyes tended to follow her wherever she went. She could use that fascination to find out what was going through his mind, and to keep him focused on his task.
She found Rake tucked into a deeply shadowed nook behind the captain’s cabin, between a stack of boards, some barrels, and an extra bolt of sailcloth. Climbing over the boards, she wedged herself into the gap. There was just enough space that they could sit side by side without quite touching. A good thing, since the sight of his pale, blue-shadowed skin still sent unpleasant chills over her body.
“Why are you hiding in here?” she asked.
“Do you care?”
The edged comment surprised her, since he usually addressed her with a kind of reverent gentleness.
“I don’t care,” she retorted. “I was merely curious.”
“You have not spoken to me in two days, and now you come to sit with me?”
“I can go.” She started to rise.
“No, please.” His clawed hand closed over her arm. She flinched, and he withdrew immediately. “I’m sorry. I have been—uneasy, and it makes me unpleasant. Please stay.”
She sat back down. “You have a right to be unpleasant. Especially after what you’ve been through. What you’ve done.”
His eyes closed briefly, and she noticed the vivid azure of the lids. “You asked why I’m back here. The sun is bright today. It pains my eyes, so I seek the shadow.”
“Oh. Of course.” She shifted, displeased with herself for not thinking of it. “Have you drunk enough seawater today?”
“I have. Drunk it, washed with it, bathed my eyes in it. Thank you.” He smiled, and she tried not to cringe at the piercing edges of those triangular teeth. “I’m not used to anyone asking after my welfare.”
“Well, you’re important to us. To me.”
She knew her mistake the instant she spoke. A light flared in his eyes, bright and unmistakable. Affection, and hope. “Are we friends, then?”
No, she wanted to say. No, no, no. I could never be friends with a monster. You’re one of the things that ate my father.
But the way he was looking at her—with those eyes, so large and liquid, so eager. “Yes,” she said grudgingly. “I suppose we can be friends.”
“Good,” he said. “I wanted your friendship from the moment I saw you. When you killed Scythe and locked me up, I wasn’t sure of you. But now I know that you are not cruel without a good reason.”
“I’m never cruel,” she snapped.
“But you are strong. Fierce.”
“Strength is not cruelty. A woman can be strong without being savage, fierce without terrifying others. She can be cunning without using her wit to shred another heart.” Kestra hesitated, thinking of the knife-blade stuck in Scythe’s neck, of her own fingers pinching the sea-hawk’s throat. Regretfully she recalled the way she usually spoke to Rake, the cutting edge that so often crept into her voice when he was near. “I—I may not always remember that, but I do try.”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “It is hard for you, with someone like me. Someone not human.”
Her breathing quickened. Something about his nearness, here, in the shadows, reminded her of the way he had pressed against her that first night. He’d been naked in the rain, his heart beating fast, so fast. His claws had pricked the skin of her throat, so close to letting her blood spill.
“It’s hard for me to forget what you are,” she whispered. “Your people eat humans like me.”
He leaned his head back against the cabin wall. “I have no excuses for my kind. Only that perhaps, long ago, we were not as we are now. Perhaps we had more balance, more reason—treated males and females equally. But whatever happened during the Upheaval, and after it, changed the course of my race. The instinct to breed, to spawn, and to spread has overtaken everything else, and it’s killing us all. The queens and the other high mermaids don’t try to resist their urge to mate, nor do the mermidons. Their lack of restraint is one reason our food supply is nearly gone. They’ve been having meetings about the food shortage, but whether they planned on moving elsewhere or somehow taking more humans for food, I’m not sure.”
“Would you have eaten a human, if you had the chance?” Kestra asked.
“I don’t know,” he said softly, his liquid eyes finding hers again. “I like to think I have more restraint than others of my race. Not that I haven’t wondered how you taste.”
She froze. The twitch of his lips over his teeth, the bare hint of his tongue flicking, transfixed her nerves with a heady blend of terror and—something else. Something precariously akin to excitement.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t move.
Rake leaned forward, dipping his face to the curve of her neck. Inhaling the scent of her.
Still Kestra did not move, because the deep, dark thing inside her recognized an echoing wildness in him, and for a moment she waited, letting those twin shadows sing together.
Rake lifted her arm in both his hands, skimming his nose along the soft flesh below her shoulder. She felt the whispering touch of his tongue.
Then he set his sharp teeth against her skin, each point a prick of awareness, not pain. Not yet.
She waited, breathless.
This is a test, she told herself. A trial, to see if he is truly different from the others.
Her eyes traced the alien sweep of his ear, from the glittering studs in the lobe all the way up to the pointed tip. The sharp cheekbone, with its series of crescent-shaped scars. His immense dark eye, overhung by indigo lashes.
There was something raw and glazed about that eye, something feral, and it snapped her back to her senses. Why was she letting this wild ocean thing set its teeth on her? Why tempt him? Why risk herself?
“That’s enough of that,” she said, shoving him away.
He blinked, his gaze refocusing. “I wouldn’t have bitten you.”
“I don’t trust you.” She spit the words.
“But you let me touch you.”
“A test.”
He cocked his head, a quick, almost birdlike movement. “Would you let me try another test? Nothing painful, I promise.”
“Maybe.” Kestra eyed him. “What is it?”
“A kiss.”
Her face heated. “No. Definitely not.”
“One kiss. To see how it feels.”
Where did he learn that pleading, passionate expression? Maybe he used it on those cruel Queens of his—though from his tales of them, she doubted it had much effect. “Still no.”
He nodded, his shoulders sagging. “Calla used to like it when I kissed her. I liked it, too, sometimes—but then she’d bite my tongue.” He looked away from her, his skin shivering noticeably and his breath turning shallow. Was he losing himself again, succumbing to the agony of memories?
Kestra swore inwardly and glanced around. Here in the shadows, no one could see. Flay and the crew were occupied with fishing. One kiss, one meaningless kiss for the beautiful, pitiful creature from the sea. She could spare that much.
“One kiss,” she said. “But if you bite me, I’ll kill you.”
He turned back around, his face brightening. “I will be careful, I promise.”
“Come on, then.” She settled herself, squaring her shoulders and leaning in.
She expected an awkward, sloppy sliming of lips. Didn’t expect him to slide both hands into her hair and touch his mouth to hers so lightly that her lips tingled. He pressed in deeper, lips parting for a quick stroke of his tongue across her mouth. She opened without thinking about it, and his tongue slipped in. It felt different than Flay’s—more rubbery. Of course it had to be tougher than a human tongue, or he’d cut himself on his own teeth.
He angled his head, moving his lips over hers. Barely in time, she remembered not to put her tongue into his sharp-toothed mouth. A hideous pleasure built low in her body, spiraling up into her brain and turning it d
izzy, even as she screamed at herself not to enjoy this. Her hands moved on their own, tracing the edges of his gills and the shape of his ears. He made a low, hungry sound, and it brought her back to herself. She pulled back instantly, smoothing her hair and composing her face.
“So.” She shrugged, as if that kiss hadn’t just twisted up her insides. “That’s all there is to it.”
“Far more pleasurable than kissing a mermaid Queen, for certain,” he said, delicately wiping his lips with his fingers. “No wonder the Captain kisses you so often. You’re delicious.”
“An odd choice of words.”
“Appropriate, though.” He smiled at her. “Thank you for allowing me to do that. I wonder if you’d be open to another experiment.”
“Like what?”
“I’d like to try mating with a human someday.”
Kestra’s heart pulsed violently, sending waves of hot blood into her cheeks.
“You’re distressed,” he said, peering at her. “What did I say? Isn’t mating pleasant for humans? I thought it would be softer, less terrifying than it is for my kind.”
She smothered a nervous giggle. “It depends on the human. And I can’t be part of an experiment like that, because I’m with Flay.”
“You mate with him?”
“Yes.”
He leaned closer, lifting a lock of her hair and running it through his fingers. “Could you not mate with him sometimes, and with me at other times?”
“Some human women might do that, but—”
“But not you.”
“No, I can’t.” She felt the weight of truth in the words as she spoke them. “I value loyalty. I am Flay’s one and only, as he is mine.” Rake’s kiss might have been tantalizing, exciting even—but Flay was hers. Her captain.
She stood up, brushing off her tunic. “Please don’t tell Flay that I let you kiss me. He’d be jealous, and it would cause trouble. What you see between him and me is similar to what you feel for Jewel. There are many different kinds of love between people, but one thing is always the same. Love is a thousand little acts of care and compromise, and sometimes it’s as simple as doing what the other person needs, without thinking of yourself. Flay and I have a special kind of bond. I would—I would die for him.” The words felt dramatic, and foolish, and at the same time deeply true. “I think about him all the time. Every day. My choices are mine, but they are also ours, because I love him. Does that make sense?”
Rake nodded, his large eyes glimmering with that lost look again. She spun quickly away, climbing over the boards and stalking back to the deck where sailors bustled and the sun shone hot.
Dinner that night was glorious. Despite Kestra’s conviction that proper seasoning and a skilled touch created the best meals, she had to admit that the fish, roasted over a carefully controlled fire flickering in the sand barrel, made delicious eating. Even Rake, who preferred his meals raw, nibbled on a roasted fish and proclaimed it “fascinating.”
Kestra ate and ate until she couldn’t manage another mouthful, and then two of the sailors fiddled and piped while the rest of the crew danced. Flay whisked Kestra up from her seat and twirled her around the deck until they were both dizzy and breathless from laughing. Finally, when the sky darkened to the color of Rake’s eyes and the music slowed to a soft ballad, Flay led Kestra to his cabin.
She expected him to sweep her into bed immediately, but the instant they stepped inside and he set the lamp on his desk, his eyes fell to the papers and maps there. He sighed heavily.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, curling her fingers over his drooping shoulders and massaging the taut muscles.
“I’m going to be late getting home, Blossom.” He dropped his hat onto the desk and threw his head back, his blond hair spilling over her hands. “Very late. You don’t understand what that means. My father—he’ll be angry, and when he’s angry—” He shook his head.
“Maybe you can pacify him somehow, bring back something extra?”
“Do your people have extra asthore to give away?”
“No,” she admitted. “The amount you already traded for is all the miners could amass in three months’ time.”
“Then I’m doomed.” He laughed, short and ragged.
Panic fluttered in Kestra’s heart. She’d never seen him like this—truly afraid, no bravado left. But under her anxiety bloomed satisfaction, because he felt safe showing his fear to her.
What could he offer to his father to soften the delay? He needed something valuable, some rare treasure—
Treasure.
Rake had come up from the sea with a bag of glittering jewelry. Surely there were more gems and baubles where those came from.
“The mermaid Queens’ treasury.” She gripped Flay’s arm. “After we bring the monster back with us—”
“If,” he said dully.
“If it works. If we can bring it back, after it consumes all the mermaids, we can send Rake down to raid the Queens’ treasury. You can take some mermaid treasure back to your father.”
Flay groaned, sinking onto his bunk. “If I do, he’ll wonder if there’s more, and he’ll send other ships to search for it.”
“It’s a solution, Flay, a good one.”
“Unless the monster decides to stick around and snack on anything that enters the water. Then Rake won’t be able to dive for any treasure. Or what if the monster smashes my ship and eats us all? Blossom, I have no idea what we’re doing. It’s crazy, even for me.”
She knelt in front of him, gathering his hands in hers. His fingers were hot, dry, and rough in her palms. “We’re placing a bet, Flay. Risking all our coin. The stakes are high, but that’s how you like it, right?”
“I’m beginning to think that’s how you like it, too.”
She smiled a little. “Maybe there’s more of my father in me than I knew. Or maybe I knew it all along, and I’ve been lying to myself.”
Lying to herself, and to everyone. Trying to be the wise, quiet Kestra that her mother wanted. The one too smart to dance with death, too wise to laugh aloud lest fate hear the glee and destroy it.
She stared at Flay’s hands, absently stroking them, lifting his thumb to her mouth for a kiss. She thought of Rake, pressing his teeth so delicately to her flesh. Impulsively she took Flay’s index finger and set it between her own teeth, closing her lips around it. When she looked up, Flay’s eyes gleamed with blue fire.
“Come here, you beautiful wild woman,” he whispered, pulling her into his lap and capturing her mouth. Kestra returned his kisses ardently, but guilt edged her passion, and to compensate for it, she did things to Flay that she usually didn’t—things that made him writhe in ecstasy. Even when she crashed over the edge, into her own sea of glittering pleasure, she thought of sharp ears and huge liquid eyes and teeth like knives.
It made her angry. Rake didn’t belong here, between her and Flay. These moments between her and the captain were the purest, most beautiful treasures she owned, and the monster was not allowed to partake of them, even as a ghost in her brain. She had to banish him.
Perhaps confession would do it.
Flay closed his eyes, breathing through the last eddies of the moment. Then he shifted on the bunk until they lay face to face, and he began drawing on Kestra’s skin with a fingertip.
“I have to tell you something.” Her voice was barely a whisper, cocooned in the space between their bodies. “Rake asked if he could kiss me, so he could see what it was like. And I let him.”
At first she wondered if Flay had heard. He kept tracing patterns across her skin, his golden lashes lowered so mere crescents of blue iris were visible beneath them.
“Did you like it?” he asked, as if they were discussing a new dish she had sampled.
“Yes. But not as much as I like kissing you. I love you, and only you. It was just an experiment, because he never had a nice kiss before. When he’d kiss the Queens, they would bite his tongue.”
Flay winced and swore. “T
hat’s rather unpleasant.”
“Yes. I just wanted him to understand it could be something more.” Kestra kissed his nose lightly. “So you forgive me?”
“Forgive, Blossom? You’ve done nothing wrong. You gave a kiss to the sad fish-boy. You say it meant nothing, and that you love me. Now all I need to ask is, do you intend to do it again?” His lashes lifted, the full power of those blue eyes trained on her.
“No. I do not intend to do it again.”
“Then all is well. If he wants to try it again, direct him to one of the village girls. Or to Mai. She could do with a bit of kissing. That girl has nothing in her head but facts and theories.”
“That’s the way she likes it. I don’t believe any boy or girl could interest her as much as her work does.”
“Then she’s missing out on something exceptional.” Flay smiled, and Kestra’s heart broke again with the beauty of him—the way when they were together, he transformed from a bold, jaunty captain into a boy who only wanted her love. And she would love him because he deserved it, and needed it, and because when she was with him like this, the dark monster in her soul lay down and quieted.
-22-
Rake
The window into the captain’s cabin was mostly covered by a half-curtain and a mess of plastered papers, but through a sliver of open space, Rake caught a glimpse of Flay and Kestra. He had never seen anything so beautiful as the way they touched each other.
Under the sea, mating took place in the open Court, in full view of anyone who might happen to be there. Here, among the humans, the act was different, it seemed. Something to be hidden behind doors and walls. He had the sense that he shouldn’t look through that window again, so he moved on.
The rain that had driven most of the crew below decks poured over him, a cooling tide freshening his skin. He strode across the wet deck, past the few hapless midshipmen whose job it was to keep the ship secure and notify the others if the storm grew worse. All the way up to the bow he climbed, slipping occasionally on slick boards, until he reached the peak of the ship. He stood silent, face upturned and eyes open to the rain.
The Teeth in the Tide Page 24