An image of the fae lying unconscious at the water’s surface flashes through my mind. I hadn’t even spared her a second glance when I saw Tifala butchering Mashaka. I have no idea if Zina killed her. And, though I wish it didn’t, regret at not checking weaves through me. It sifts into the spaces untouched by my grief and settles in until I know that I have to go check on her. I lift my head and look down below us, but it’s impossible to tell in the pitch black how much deeper there is to fall.
“I’m sorry, my friend,” I rasp, kissing the top of his head. “I have to go.” I release him, my muscles aching with each flick of my tail keeping me afloat. The rip in my fin burns anew, but I ignore it all, waiting with a heaving chest until I can no longer see the outline of his body before turning my head up towards the surface.
It’s an agonizing swim, and I use my arms more than ever before to keep myself moving upward. I happen to spot my bag on the way up, the strap stuck to a piece of debris floating in the current. Opening it with trembling fingers, I confirm its contents before tying the broken pieces of the strap together around my waist. When I find the familiar wooden raft above me, I take a final glance in all directions and then swim through the Spell.
Dark eyes—eyes as black as Mashaka’s—stare into mine as I break the surface, making me yelp and lurch backward. The faelifts her top lip into a sneer, her sharp canines showing. “I’ll kill you,” she croaks.
I sigh, working my way to the back of the raft by her feet. As I begin to push her towards the shore, her legs twitch until one of them swings fully towards me. Her movement is sluggish, and I easily dodge her attempt to kick me.
“Pleasestop. You were in a shipwreck of some kind, and then sirens attacked the rest of your crew.”
“You meanyouattacked us?” she slurs, her leg once more blindly trying to connect with my head. I avoid it again, my claw tips digging into the wood. “I’ll get myself to shore.”
“You barely have the strength to say those words. I will push you there and then leave you alone.”
Again,she swings her leg out, and it snaps something within me. The loss of Mashaka, the exhaustion of my journey, and the unbearable weight of simplyexistingall come crashing down on me. I start singing, unsure if it will actually do anything but succumbing to the call of my magic anyway. Her leg relaxes—her entire body does—as I will her to stop moving. To juststop.
We finally reach the beach, the sandy ocean floor moving closer and closer until I have to transform into my mortal body and push her the rest of the way by crawling on my knees. Only then do I stop singing, letting the magic of my song fade away. I suppose there is no denying now that, somehow, my magic works onfemales.
The sun is high and bright in the sky, signaling that it’s sometime in the afternoon. Its warmth feels good on my back, and when I can’t push the heavy piece of wood any more, I collapse onto the damp sand next to it. It’ll take a moment for my magic to wear off, and once I’m sure this female is alright, I’ll head home.Alone.
She groans after a few minutes pass, drawing my attention away from the jagged angry line cut into the top of my foot.“What did you do?” she asks, attempting to push herself up. I reach over to help her sit, but she jerks herself away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
Inhaling sharply, I move onto my knees and sit back on my heels, keeping my hands to myself as I watch her struggle to sit up. The wall of the Spell shimmers a few feet behind us, and if I thought I was strong enough, I might toss her through it myself.
“Tell me what youdid,” she grits out through clenched teeth, her dark eyes meeting mine.
Swallowing, I gesture back out to the ocean. “You were in a shipwreck. Somehow, you fell from the sinking boat and landed on that piece of wood. I found you floating there unconscious.”
She snaps her eyes shut, her hand gently touching the back of her head before she hisses and brings it back down to her side with dark red blood dotting her fingers. “What else?” she barks, opening her almond-shaped eyes to stare into mine.
Her tangled raven hair hangs above her shoulders, though its current state does nothing to draw away from her beauty. Each of her features, from her perfectly pointed chin and full lips to the sharp arch of her ear, looks like it was purposefully placed there. It is not a gentle kind of beauty. It’s precise and powerful.Deadly. Sirens use our looks in tandem with our magic to lure and seduce, but this fae, she could use it and nothing else to make others bend to her will.
“What. Else?”
I force my gaze to hers again, digging my fingers into my bare thighs. “Then I brought you to the shore.” I leave out the attack from the sirens. The death that followed.
The fae shakes her head, wincing with the movement. “I remember asking you not to bring me here, and then it gets…fuzzyafter that.”
I chew on my lower lip, and her gaze dips down to my mouth before she shoots it back up, her own mouth curling in disgust. “You must have passed back out. Your head is injured.”
She doesn’t look remotely convinced by my lie. “So what do you want, then?” she asks, holding the side of her swollen face as she makes her way to stand. A black cape drapes from her, the fabric tattered at its edges and stained with salt from dried ocean water. It’s attached by bronze chains to plates of black leather layered on top of each other at her shoulders. The leather goes down over her chest, two buckled straps crossing over her breasts before moving around her sides. Decorating one of her shoulders, outlined in that same bronze as the chains, is a dragon. “Hello!” She snaps her fingers in front of my face.
I clear my throat as I stand, my weight shifting to my non-injured foot. Her expression is shrewd as she faces me, the hand not holding her face flexing down by her thigh.
Right where a dagger is sheathed.
I remember the dagger in my bag, and though I have no idea how to wield it, I position my hand near it. While my hair covers most of my chest and stomach, I adjust my bag to cover as much of my lower half as possible. Not because I’m being modest, but simply because it makes me vulnerable not to.
“You would kill someone who just saved you?” I ask, limping a step closer to the water.
The fae tilts her head as a cruel smile tips her lips upward. I don’t get to inhale again before she’s holding the dagger at my neck, her movements so quick that I startle backward. Her hand dives into my hair to steady me, but the touch is anything but comforting. Bicep bulging with restraint, contempt seeps out of her every pore. “Oh, Little Siren, I would love nothing more than to drag my knife across your throat and send your remains to your bitch queen.” She presses the cold blade to my skin for emphasis, that smile growing when I gasp out in terror.“Were this any other situation, you’d be dead already.” Then she abruptly lets me go, chuckling darkly as I stumble backward. “Unfortunately, I cannot kill you now that I owe you a debt.”
My chest heaves as I rasp out, “What do you mean?”
She huffs, sheathing her dagger while she looks down her slender nose at me. “Don’t play dumb. Everyone knows about the life debt oath we are held to.”
Well, not everyone.I have no idea what she is talking about. “I don’t want anything from you.”
