2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

W e arrive at Ravton Bay around midday and make our way to The Snakebeard Tavern. "It must have rained while we were gone," Eoin mumbles, peering at the old cedar siding. The moss covering the north side has awakened and flashes vibrant shades of green. The large wooden sign above the entryway sways and creeks in the breeze as we pass. At one time, I was weary of the bald man carved into it and the multitude of snakes that make up his beard. He's now a welcoming sight as I return home.

"I just don't think it's a good idea," Eoin says as he opens the back door for me. "Jake can find someone else for this one. You need more than a couple days to heal."

The smell of ale and cooking meat makes my mouth water. "You and I both need the coin. I just need a bath and some food." The stairs creak as I take the first steps toward my room, hoping I don't run into anyone who might notice the state I'm in.

Eoin grumbles something behind me as we reach the third-floor landing, and I snap. "Just because you want a few days to fool around with barmaids and farmers' daughters doesn't mean I do. I'm not a baby; you don't have to take care of me. I can do the job independently if you don't want to."

He huffs a laugh and leans back on the railing that overlooks the bar. His eyebrows pinch slightly in one of the many ‘I'm worried about you' faces he gives me, but then his eyes dip to my lips. I can't tell what he is thinking right now. He used to be so easy to read.

"No one is stopping you from having some fun too." He sighs and checks his pocket watch. "Just think about it." He starts back down the stairs. "I'm going to visit Tomas. I'll tell him you say hello."

My heart sinks a little as he descends. I don't know why I snapped at him like that. I ring for service and request hot water for a bath and some medicinal herbs to smoke while I pass the time. It'll be a little while before the tavern fills, and I'm going to stay up late tonight and test my theory.

Jessa brings in several hot buckets of water, filling my tub as I sit on my balcony and smoke my pipe. The hot smoke burns my lungs, but I do my best to hold it in for a moment before I exhale. The smell is distinctive, earthy, and wild, reminding me of Eoin. He likes the heptade herbs a lot more than I do.

I take another pull from my pipe and admire the orange and pink sky reflecting in the water of Ravton Bay. Several dockworkers shout orders as a naval ship approaches the boardwalk. It won't be long before this place fills up, and I can venture down.

Jessa taps on the balcony door frame. "Your bath is ready."

"Thanks, Jessa." I hand her two ingot bits, but she refuses.

"You don't have to do that. Did you have a nice trip?" Jessa is only twenty, a little younger than me, and still a bit boy-crazy. But she's decent company, and I enjoy working with her.

"I did, thanks."

She follows me toward the bathing chamber, twirling her long blonde hair around her finger. "Will Eoin be back tonight?"

Ah, there it is.

"He sure will." I slowly shut the door between us, letting her know I'm ready to bathe.

"Oh, okay! I'll see you downstairs later." Jessa calls through the door in her eternally peppy voice.

It's hard enough to make friends while pretending to be human; I don't need Eoin messing this up. I guess I am one of them, though, at least in part. My mother birthed me not four blocks from here at the Dockside Brothel.

I glance at the full-length mirror adjacent to my tub. I know I'm pretty, but I don't feel like it right now. The bruise on my shoulder aches, the wound already inflamed and festering. This humid, tropical climate wreaks havoc on uncleaned wounds.

My eyes scan lower, taking in my naked form, remembering Eoin's gaze upon me. My cheeks heat, and I turn to the tub, hot steam billowing from it and filling the room with the pleasant aroma of rose petals and honey.

The warm water glides like liquid silk over my skin as I lower myself into the smooth basin. I close my eyes, letting my head rest on the lip of the tub, and soak. The tension in my muscles releases as I rest, listening to the gentle sloshing of water and the distant sound of gulls.

After bathing, I study myself in the mirror once again. I definitely smell better, at least. My face is now clean enough my freckles are visible, as is the small silver scar on my chin. I towel-dry my hair until it transitions from dark brown to my usual light brown color, knowing I'll regret it later if it frizzes.

I pull on some plain olive pants and boots and a loose-fitting ivory blouse. A colorful silk scarf makes a nice addition around my neck. I don't want to risk anyone seeing my bruise disappear if I'm able to heal.

As I open my bedroom door, the lively music of a local minstrel and the buzz-like chatter of a busy tavern greets my ears. I take three steps forward and glance over the railing. A few patrons play cards at tables, and several people sit at the bar. Francine and Jessa carry hot plates of lamb and potatoes from the kitchen to hungry sailors.

I close my eyes and feel the air around me. It doesn't seem like there's any energy for me to pull. A glimmer of hope flashes within me. Perhaps Eoin is right. I'm just having trouble because I'm only half-fae, not because I'm part Siren.

I reach the main floor just as several naval men enter the tavern. This is going to be a good night. Chances are these men have been at sea for months and are looking to release some steam.

I plop into a familiar seat at the bar and order a drink from my boss, Antoine. "I'll take the house red."

He pours me a generous glass and leans on the bar. "Jessa is going to have her hands full tonight. I'm sure she'd appreciate some help if you're up for it." If this man wasn't so madly in love with his wife, half of the barmaids would have stolen him away by now. He treats us far too well.

"I can't tonight, sorry." I shrug my shoulder nonchalantly and try not to wince. "I'm playing cards with Eoin later. Oh, that reminds me. I had a successful night away. I'll head to the bank tomorrow and bring back what I owe for rent plus another four months. I'm sorry I'm so late."

"Oh, I know you're always good for it." He tops off my drink and heads to the far side of the bar to pour some ale for the sailors. He plucks the string below the bar, which rings a bell in the back room. This is the signal for his wife to send out a few more working women. My bet is on ten minutes before someone heads to the second floor.

I take my house red and find a seat near the hearth. Within an hour, four men have gone to the second floor with young women, and the faint tingling of something in the air piques my interest. Not close enough for me to regenerate my magic, but close enough to add to the pool of dread growing in my stomach.

I stare out the window and watch people pass by as I sip my wine. The waves in the glass windowpanes distort their shapes and images, making them look gangly or monstrous. They slowly fade to shadows and silhouettes as I wait for the sun to set completely. I want to be sure when I test my theory, so I wait a few extra moments until the only light filtering in through the windows comes from street lamps.

I sigh, leaving my comfortable place near the hearth, and place my wine glass on the bar as I approach the stairwell. Each step brings me closer to the men and women enjoying temporary pleasure on the second floor, and with each step, I feel more energy. Soon, it's all around me, and I pull everything I can, refilling my well. I don't have to concentrate on healing when my body takes control and heals itself. I wonder if this is normal for the Fae. Do they heal without thought or compulsion? What I would give to talk to someone, anyone like me.

No longer in pain, the slight fog in my mind dissipates, and I steel my spine, certain that I've descended from a Siren Fae. However, at this moment, I'm the only one who knows. There's no reason to panic, and no one is coming for my head. I'm just going to walk back to the bar, attempt to forget this, and have some fun.

***

I feel amazing. I spend the next hour dancing and flirting with random men, feeding off their energy. I'm drunk with power, and it is bursting at the seams of my existence. I have no idea where I put my scarf, and I'm pretty sure this man is trying to take me upstairs. At some point, my house red was replaced by single malt whiskey, and my entire being is buzzing.

The minstrel strums the intro to an upbeat favorite, earning a few cheers. Several patrons chime in, singing the uncouth chorus and stomping their feet to the beat. My unlucky friend seems to finally accept that I will, in fact, not be venturing upstairs with him. He turns and staggers towards the bar, drink in the air, singing obnoxiously.

"You're out of control," I say as I stumble to an empty table near the entrance. I can't fuck that guy. I can't believe I was even considering it. I shake my head. He wasn't even that good-looking. The crowd near the bar splits, and I spot him, still singing. However, he now has a large wet spot, presumably of ale, down the front of his shirt. Gods, that was a close one. I'm a little embarrassed that I was so close to getting naked with such a rube.

"Eoin!" Jessa yells over the crowd and waves as Eoin enters the side door. He gives her a quick nod, and his eyes meet mine. He smiles and weaves through the crowd straight toward my table.

"You look too drunk for cards." He grabs my whiskey and finishes it before sitting down.

"I am too drunk for cards."

"Maybe you should head to bed." He raises a brow. "I can tuck you in."

Is he flirting with me? "Don't be weird." I'm not sure if I'm saying it more to him or myself, but I'm sure we would both regret it in the morning.

He shrugs and scans the room. "Suit yourself."

The doors to my left open, and Eoin's face turns to stone. Two fully dressed Crusaders enter the tavern. My breath hitches, and I freeze as if they could sense my treacherous, thieving breath over their shoulders. What are they doing here? Were they with the ones we saw earlier?

The soldiers sit at the bar and order two pints. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I move closer, catching them mid-conversation.

". . . fangs and red eyes. It completely obliterated the carriage, and bodies were everywhere. What kind of creature does that?"

Someone behind me lets out a loud belly laugh, drowning out the Crusader's voices.

". . .the stuff of nightmares," the Crusader continues. "I wouldn't venture into that forest again with less than a dozen of the Prophet's finest. It's gotta be them blood-sucking bastards in Selene."

"Their High Lord may be a ruthless killing machine, but he shouldn't be able to get past the wards. It's something else." The soldier's companion flags down Jessa and orders some stew. "But that's not our problem. We'll search a few days for the mage, and then we can get the hell out of this backwater town."

My stomach lurches. A mage: they're looking for Eoin, or someone like him. Where is he? The rest of the tavern carries on jovially as if the worst news wasn't just delivered. My eyes dart across the tavern, scanning the dancing couples, the card tables, and the argument in the back. He's not here. I might be sick.

Maybe he went outside for a smoke.

I slip outside, and the door closes behind me, muffling the cacophony of tavern sounds. Fog carries in from the sea, amplifying the soft click of my footsteps and distorting the shapes of distant buildings.

"Eoin?" Maybe he went out the back. I round the corner into the dark alley, avoiding the large puddles in my path. I should have checked his room first. The earth sways as I turn back, and I stumble.

The silhouette of a man blocks the other end of the alley. "Eoin, is that you?" The silhouette approaches but doesn't respond. "This isn't funny. We have a real prob—"

That's not Eoin.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and some sort of primordial alarm system goes off in my head.

"What's a beautiful girl like you doing out here all alone?" His lips pull back in a cold smile, exposing his grayish teeth.

My heart jumps to my throat, and I suddenly feel very sober. "My friend is waiting on me," I say, turning towards the muffled singing and music emanating from The Snakebeard.

"I don't see anyone." He grabs my arm, firmly holding me in place. The air around me prickles as he glances down my body.

"Well, maybe if you looked with your eyes and not your tiny dick, you could see I have better things to do tonight." I yank my arm from his grip.

Wrong thing to say. His eyes widen, and his face reddens as he pulls a small knife from his belt. I should have stayed with the happy, sloppy drunk in the tavern. At least he would have been kind about it, and I would eventually end up in my bed.

He holds the knife up to my throat with one hand and grips the back of my neck with the other. His hot breath on my ear makes me writhe in his grip, "Didn't your father teach you any manners?"

The strange dark mist creeps into my peripherals again. This time, it takes me away entirely, and it's as if I am watching my life through someone else's eyes. Another layer of terror grips me. I've lost control and can't move. Something flashes in the man's eyes. Fear? Confusion? He cries out.

The man's head jerks back, and he stumbles backward. Eoin is here. Instant relief floods me, and I let out a breath. Eoin releases the man's hair and shoves him back farther. The man glances between us before running off towards the pier.

I run into Eoin's arms and squeeze him tightly, burying my face in his neck. What is happening to me? Am I losing my mind? What if Eoin hadn't made it here in time?

He hugs me back and rests his chin on my head until I stop trembling. He smells faintly of sweat and women's perfume. I pull away, trying to recall why that faint smell of sweet peas and honey seems so familiar. I shake the thought.

"Thank Dhara, you're okay." He holds out an arm to steady me as I sway.

"Praying to the old gods? Don't let those Crusaders hear you."

"Seemed appropriate, thanking the goddess of Luck, considering the odds that I got here in time." He lifts my chin and tips my head side to side, eyes scanning my face and neck.

"I'm fine. But Eoin, those Crusaders are looking for a mage."

"I know. They're here faster than I thought." He releases my chin, seeming to accept that I am unharmed. "It's late. Let's call it a night." He guides me by my elbow to the back entrance and opens the door for me. "I figured if we ever had to use one of my emergency rune gates, they'd send Crusaders to the neighboring towns to sniff out a mage." He follows me up to the third floor and stops by my door. "I'm certain those two aren't ones that we encountered yesterday. We just need to lay low for a few days."