The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a profound feeling of being watched. Adara turned her head, scanning the roomfor anyone suspicious, and came across a young man whose dark, kohl-lined eyes gleamed with sinister curiosity. Short, wavy black hair swayed as he quickly turned his head, averting his eyes the moment Adara looked his way. She shivered at the apprehension sluicing through her. Did he somehow know her secret? The way he had been studying her a moment before made her believe that he did.
Despite the uncanny feeling in her gut, he seemed familiar. His hair and eyes were like the darkest night compared to his skin of moonlight. Perhaps they’d come across each other before Adara set sail for Andreilia. Yet that did nothing to ease her worry that he could be her downfall.
“What was that about?” Dominic asked, glancing between her and the young man who had been eyeing her from across the room at one of the gambling tables.
“Nothing,” Adara muttered absentmindedly, shaking her head, bringing her attention back to Dominic. “I thought I recognized someone. Turns out it was no one.” She shrugged.
It didn’t take long before a waitress came by to take their order and bring back their food and drinks. The delicious smell of roast chicken and vegetables filled her nostrils. She breathed in the scent, her mouth watering in delight. Adara and Dominic both picked up a fork and dug into their food. They were silent as they took the first few bites, the only sound that of the chatter around them and their utensils occasionally clinking against the plates.
“So,” Dominic started. “How long did you live here?”
Adara swallowed her food, wishing he hadn’t spoken because it cut into her time of devouring the delectable meal. This tasted like a meal made for royalty compared to the provisions they’d been living off while sailing. “About a year. I was on my own for a few months before I met Damon. Then he took me in and we set sail for Andreilia.” Adara explained, then dove right backinto her dinner. She swallowed a bite. “How much time have you spent here?”
Dominic shook his head and let out a bitter laugh. “I’m beginning to hate how much you’re starting to seem like me.”
Adara paused, her fork hovering over her plate as she cocked her head, silently urging him to go on.
“I wasn’t originally from Lykrios,” he started.
Everything Adara assumed about him was thrown out the window. She’d thought that he’d been born here, grew up knowing the lore of the Plagued Sea and Andreilia and the creatures that inhabit it. Thought that was why he’d been the first to complete the journey and live to tell the tale.
“I met Damon here a long time ago.”
She was tempted to interrupt to ask where he was from, but Adara had the sinking feeling he wouldn’t tell. She listened intently, slowly eating her food, as if she would miss something important if she chewed too loud.
Dominic suddenly became very interested in picking at his food with his utensils, poking and prodding and pushing them around the plate. “Everything went to shit when we set sail.” He stopped abruptly, clearly not wanting to reveal more. When his eyes finally met hers, they were glossy, distant, like he wasn’t fully present.
The image of his grief was entirely different from any other. There was no anger, no tears. There was nothing. A hollow shell, devoid of emotion. It made him dangerous, volatile.
Adara abhorred that look on his face. She’d much prefer that calm rage simmering in his eyes. Or that seductive smile that could easily be mistaken for insane maliciousness. His stupid cocky smirks that she despised were better than this look she couldn’t stand. Couldn’t stand it because it proved what he truly was: heartless.
His heart was at the bottom of the Plagued Sea or perhaps swallowed by some gruesome creature in the ocean. She could not let herself forget that. Sometimes she questioned if the monsters of the Plagued Sea were the result of Dominic tossing his dark, rotten heart into the ocean. That his malice had created such demonic creatures.
How could she win the key to his heart when he didn’t even have one? She prayed he hadn’t tossed his key into the sea as well. Surely he wouldn’t do such an idiotic thing when there were mermaids beneath the waves who could benefit from the power his key held.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, my life went to shit when I set sail with Damon too.” Adara breathed a laugh. “But it was worse before I even set foot in this Hel-hole.” She would say anything to wipe that vacant expression off his face, to wipe away the reminder that she was sitting across from a heartless boy who was a master at manipulating others into giving up their keys. She was desperate to relieve her mind from the stress of debating how she could make it out of this war alive.
“Not that it makes anything better for either of us,” she rambled on. Of course, it wouldn’t make anything better. She’d only meant to distract him from whatever thoughts were at war in his mind, hoping to catch the attention of his sadistic side that would laugh at her suffering.
Dominic only returned his attention to the food on his plate, cutting the meat with lethal precision before stabbing it with his fork and taking a bite. Adara wondered exactly how much damage he could do to someone with simple cutlery.
Silence stretched between them, long and awkward as the only sounds around them were those of their utensils scratching against their porcelain plates, and shouts echoing from the gamblers across the room. The ruckus near the back of thetavern had them both turning their head toward the gambling tables.
Adara’s eyes widened at the sight of Evreux being roughly grabbed by an old man who was clearly drunk.
“Cheater!” the man shouted in Evreux’s face.
Evreux flinched and tried to back away but he was caught by the collar of his tunic.
Dominic cursed under his breath, rising to his feet. Evreux was clever when it came to cards, but not clever enough to lose every now and then to avoid suspicion, it seemed. Adara cautiously followed Dominic’s motions, pulling the straps of her rucksack over her shoulders.
More people were shouting now, trying to regain order, but the old man was yelling in Evreux’s face, his words incomprehensible as he raised a fist. A flash of white hair, and Vesper was at Evreux’s side. A loudcrackresounded throughout the cavern, and everything stilled, except for the man who had been about to punch Evreux. He was groaning on the floor, hands covering the blood pouring from his mouth and shaking away the splinters of wood from the broken chair that lay upon him. Vesper stood over him, chest heaving with exertion.
Dominic swore again, eyes searching for the others amid the tavern. “Go,” Dominic whispered to Adara.
Adara’s ears rang with silence before all Hel broke loose within the tavern.
“You cheating bastard!” the old man growled, scampering to his feet.
