A chain sounded, and the door opened fully. A young woman stood there, curtains of black hair falling down either side of her face. She knelt down, her eyes wide, but her head was turned, as if she was looking away.
“You’re a whaler, aren’t you?” she asked.
I nodded, and her expression hardened. Thunder rolled above.
I tried to get up, but the wound at my side caused a ripping sensation through my body.
The world around me turned black.
I’m going to die,I thought, staring at the face of the young woman.
She’s very beautiful,came the next thought. She looked like an angel… an angel who seemed to look past me. But, honestly, if she was the last person I saw before dying, that wasn’t such a bad way to go out either.
CHAPTER FOUR
MALIA
Awhaler.
A good-for-nothing whaler.
Here was a man with the blood of innocent creatures on his hands.
I rubbed my eyes as I paused next to the settee and studied the man’s face, my own face turned to get the best possible look at him. He was quite handsome, a fact that annoyed me more than I thought it would.
When he knocked earlier, my heart pounded, like it was being smothered in a mortar and pestle. Who would beg for entrance at a midnight hour?
Is it her?That was all I could ask myself.
For a moment, I was sure I’d been found. Panic washed over me, stinging like alcohol on a wound.
She found me…
I paced back and forth a few times, but nobody knocked again. So I opened the door and peeked out. The aroma of banana bread and gingersnaps mixed with the welcome smell of rain.
Instead of standing face to face with someone, I looked down to find a man there, half dead.
Who is he?I asked as I checked his body.What happened to him?The gouge on his side bled profusely, and debris coated his skin.
And underneath it all, he was clearly a man of the sea. Big. Brawny. Skin stretched from the sun like leather.
Which meant one thing: He was actively involved. He had probably killed many,manywhales.
If I save him,I thought,He’ll just kill more whales.But I was not about to let a human die, because I thought the life of an animal was more important…
Besides, I have to save him,I told myself.Or everyone will think I’m the monster I am…
So I dragged him in, cleaned and sewed up his wound. The stitches weren’t perfect, but they were impressive for my limited eyesight. I washed his body as best I could and got him comfortable on the settee. I would have to apologize later, because I had to remove his soiled, bloody clothing, but I tried to keep him modest and dignified.
The fireplace roared while the storm rattled off outside, and I scrubbed any blood and debris that had accumulated on the floor. As I got closer to the settee and to the stranger on it, I took a shaky breath.
What if he’s sent by her?Was I housing a man who would kill me once he recovered?
I slipped a piece of his dark hair from his forehead. And though a little pale from the loss of blood, he already looked much better, his breathing steady and his expression peaceful.
Don’t be silly, Malia.He was wounded. Something had happened, and he washed up on the shores here. I’d even heard the bells of a ship in the distance.
Perhaps this man was a lone survivor of the storm that had just passed. Or perhaps there was something darker at work.
