Chapter 16

chapter 16

Lizzie

I’ve seen shifters change their shape plenty of times. It tends to be gruesome business, bones breaking and skin splitting as their bodies go from one version of themselves to the other. It’s not like that at all with Maeve. She drapes the pelt—a fur with a gray dappled pattern—around her body, and it’s as if my eyes go blurry for a moment. One second, the woman whom I’m starting to have incredibly complicated feelings for is standing in front of me. The next, a massive leopard seal crouches in front of me.

I’m hardly a zoologist, but even I’m aware of the various types of seals and where they come from. But when I think of seals, I think of the cute little brown-furred ones with doe eyes. Prey. The kind of animal that falls victim to superior predators like orcas. Now that is an animal I can get behind; they even play with their prey.

Maeve isn’t that kind of seal at all.

She’s massive, for one. She has to be upward of a thousand pounds and easily fifteen feet from nose to tail. She blinks at me, and though the rest of her is unrecognizable, those inky eyes remain the same. We stare at each other in charged silence as I try to understand what the fuck my heart is doing right now.

And then she throws herself over the railing in a shockingly agile movement. There’s a splash down below, and only silence follows. I step to the railing and look down to see her pale form circling the ship and then diving deep. The happiness in her movements almost makes me smile.

Then she dives deeper, and I can’t see her at all any longer. I grip the railing and search the dark water, but it’s just that?.?.?. dark water. No seal. No Maeve. She said there was nothing to fear in these waters, that the C?n Annwn drive out—or, more accurately, murder—anything that takes up residence. She’s fine. She’s not being torn apart just out of sight.

But she?.?.?. doesn’t surface.

Seconds tick into minutes and then longer. I can hear the crew shuffling about behind me, but I can’t seem to move. There’s no sign of her. No matter how many times I search the gently rolling waves, that truth doesn’t change.

Even when the sun crests the horizon, bathing the world in light and turning the water into something only slightly less opaque. Still no Maeve.

She’s?.?.?. gone.

I stare at the water, wondering how I got this all so wrong. I’m ruthless to a fault. It’s the only way I know how to be. How did I not use our bargain to my advantage? I should have insisted we go after my family heirlooms first, and then I should have been the one to leave her behind with her needs unsatisfied. I must be a fool, because I honestly didn’t expect her to abandon me the moment she reclaimed her stolen skin.

I also didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

I finally drag myself away from the railing and turn to find several of the crew members watching me covertly. It’s tempting to snap at them to mind their own damn business, but showing even that much reaction is broadcasting my weakness in an invitation to be exploited. So I stare them down until they find somewhere else to be.

All except Alix, the bird person. To hear Evelyn tell of it, there was one of their people aboard the Crimson Hag as a medic, a delightfully delicate person whom Evelyn was naturally taken by. Alix is hardly that. Their beak is curved like that of a predator. They may move on two feet, but somehow they still give the impression of diving down to clutch up helpless prey. It would be impressive if I wasn’t feeling like I might vomit.

They stand next to me, watching me out of the corner of their large pale eyes. “This likely won’t go well for you.”

“Why don’t you try again?” I say mildly. “The last person who threatened me ended up with their head bouncing across the deck.”

“I’m not threatening you. I’m merely stating a fact. One of my people tells me you’re hunting the Crimson Hag. It might not be captained by Bowen any longer, but that doesn’t make it any less formidable an opponent. It’s suicide.”

I find myself looking back at the water and curse silently. Surely I’m not this much of a fool to be staring at the waves and waiting for Maeve to reappear? What am I? Some forlorn housewife whose spouse has gone out to sea, never to be seen again? Ridiculous.

It takes more effort than it should to turn to Alix and give them the majority of my attention. “I don’t have a death wish. Battling them at sea would get us all killed. I simply need to find them so I can retrieve something that belongs to me. As soon as we locate the ship, your task with me is done.” It would be more convenient to keep them on until I find a portal home, but I have no interest in being stabbed in my sleep. The threat of that is already too prominent. If Alix believes they’ll gain what they want—the captainship—the moment I accomplish my task, they’re less likely to cause problems.

“It’s a risk.”

“Life is a risk.” Despite my best efforts, I can’t help looking out into the water again. It’s fully morning now, which means it’s been hours since Maeve disappeared beneath the surface. “It’s your choice whether you bring the crew in line or I murder them all and find a new crew that’s more willing to work with me.”

They huff out a strange cawing laugh. “Heard and understood?.?.?. Captain. The Crimson Hag doesn’t sail south all that often, so our best bet is to head north to Drash. There should be better information there.”

I would almost rather sail directly to the damn capital and wait them out there, but that’s a fool’s game. In the way of established dictators everywhere, the Council that rules Threshold is complacent in the extreme. They rule with an iron fist, but they’ve done it for so long without being challenged that they don’t think they can be challenged.

That will work in the rebellion’s favor—it already has. Not that such things matter to me. I won’t be around to see the rebellion prevail or fail, whichever the future holds. As soon as I reclaim my family jewels, I will return home and?.?.?.

Go back to how things have been for the last century. Rising to meet my mother’s every demand. Scheming and plotting and killing to further my family’s power. There was a time when such things excited me, but when I think about it now, there’s only a heaviness in my chest.

What is wrong with me? I don’t doubt. Such emotion is for lesser beings. I’ve always had a direction in life, I’ve always had a goal to strive toward. I fully intend to be matriarch of my family at some point. The problem is that without Wolf and me being good little breeders with the proper partners and producing pureblood heirs, what family is there? Vampires live long enough that it might as well be forever. It will be centuries before there’s even a chance my mother might perish. Or before I become fed up enough with her control and stage a coup.

But what then? Wolf is enjoying his ridiculous little polycule, and though they’ve popped out three children, those children are of mixed bloodlines. Somehow they’ve gained the power of all three fathers—as well as their mother’s glamour and seraphim magic. They will undoubtedly change the vampire world when they’re of age, might even challenge the pureblood mentality that my mother clings to so fiercely.

That’s in the distant future, though. She wants to grow our family’s numbers now—which means she expects me to be the one to move forward with those plans. I have no desire for children. I never have. Even if I did, there is no guarantee I could become pregnant. Bloodline vampires may live damn near forever, but that means that we don’t breed easily. We’re lucky if we get one babe a generation. The fact that my mother had two was a small miracle, at least until we became the disappointments that we continue to be to this day.

What’s wrong with me? I don’t think like this. There’s no room for doubt when it comes to my mother. She carved that part of me out a very long time ago—just like she carved out every other alleged weakness I possessed.

I belatedly realize that Alix is still waiting for a response. I can’t afford to let my guard down now. Their ambition will work in my favor, but only as long as they fear me. “To Drash it is, then.”

“Very well.” They turn and move away in a strange little hop-flutter movement that’s not quite walking and not quite flying.

With them gone, there’s nothing else to focus on. Nothing except Maeve’s absence.

What if she didn’t leave intentionally? What if the bay isn’t nearly as safe as we were led to believe? What if she fought and died below the surface and I had no fucking idea?

I grip the railing hard enough for the wood to crack against my palms. If I didn’t know better, I would assume that Maeve had cast a spell on me. There’s no other reason for me to be unraveling this quickly over such a short acquaintance. Yes, I want her. Of course I do. She’s gorgeous and soft and stubborn to a fault. But lust is a simple emotion for all that it can be overwhelming. What I’m feeling right now isn’t simple. I don’t understand it.

“Lizzie.”

She’s back.There’s no thought of tempering my response. I spin and rush to where Maeve has just climbed over the railing several feet away and stands before me, her clothing and hair dripping wet, with a bag in her hands. She grins. “I figured we needed our things.”

I don’t stop to think. I throw my arms around her and pull her close until she squeaks. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?” She gingerly pats my back as if she’s not sure what to think of me. And why would she be? I am not acting normal right now. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” It still takes several beats before I’m able to release her and step back. I clear my throat, but my heart is racing far faster than it needs to. “You seem?.?.?. well.” Better than well. There’s a vibrancy to her that I didn’t realize she was missing. It’s pure joy, and it draws me to her even more than she did to begin with. I want to sink my hands into her hair and claim her mouth, to channel that joy into pleasure. To claim her.

I glance at the sky; dawn has long since passed. There’s a thousand reasons to be less reckless, but I can’t think of a single one of them right now. I scoop up the bag, Maeve’s soaking wet skin, and grab her hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we—” She makes that delightful squeaking noise again as I haul her across the deck to the captain’s cabin and through the door. The place reeks of aftershave and some kind of herb, but I don’t care. I haven’t known Maeve that long, but it feels like I’ve been waiting forever to get my hands on her properly. I can’t wait any longer.

I slam the door and lock it and then press her against it, molding my body to hers. “Do you feel the same as when we last spoke?”

Understanding dawns in her inky eyes. Quickly followed by desire hot enough to scald me. She worries her bottom lip, and it’s everything I can do not to close the rest of the distance and soothe that spot with my tongue. “I still want you, if that’s what you mean,” she finally says.

I barely manage to hold myself back. All I want to do is ravish her, but some lines are sacred. My voice is ragged when I finally manage to speak. “If that changes, no matter where we are or what we’re doing, this stops.”

If anything, she softens even further against me. “I know.”

There’s no reason to hesitate any longer. I dig my hands into her curly hair and angle her head so I can take her mouth. Maeve tastes like the sea, salty and enticing enough to drive me to become a sailor and never touch dry land again. To lose myself in her in a way that I’ve never wanted to do with anyone else before.

Then her hands find my hips, urging me closer yet, and there’s no space for thinking anything at all. I kiss her like I’ve wanted to for far too long. Tongue and teeth and the lightest of nips. Not quite a bite, but pleasure shudders through her body all the same.

We’re doing this. We’re finally doing this.

I’ll fucking kill anyone who interrupts us before we’re done.