Page 16 of She Who Was Once the Sea

"Are you fucking joking?" one of the men chuckled as they all relaxed their defensive stances. "It’s one of those freaks from yesterday."

"Do you just appear wherever you’re unwanted?" Another sneered as they collectively took a step toward me. "Can you not see that we’re busy?"

With as much bravado as I could muster, I clenched the dagger in my hand tighter. "I can see what you’re busy with," I said in my most menacing voice. "I’m here to tell you to stop."

They all laughed. The woman rolled her eyes.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

I moved the dagger in my hand so that it reflected the light, hoping that the threat would be enough to warn them off.

Clearly, it was not my lucky night. They did little more than laugh, fanning out as they moved slowly towards me.

I was able to dodge the first couple of blows, ducking and weaving through their fists and feeling my blade connect with something satisfyingly soft. But it took an embarrassingly short amount of time for them to get me to the ground, and suddenly my entire world was pain as fists and feet rained down on me from all directions.

Between the barrage, I saw the woman begin to slip away, moving slowly down the alley in the opposite direction, and I felt a small bit of pride that I’d at least succeeded in distracting them long enough to let her get away.

I didn’t think that they’d kill me—they didn’t quite seem like the type—but if they did, at least I’d slip away knowing that I’d done something tangibly good in the world.

The edges of my vision began to dim, and I wondered vaguely whether one of them had kicked out the streetlight by mistake.

Just before the blackness completely overcame me, I heard a vicious ripping, followed by the collective sounds of terrified screams, and the tirade of blows stopped immediately. Something wet and hot splashed across my face, and I thought for a moment that it might be enough to jostle me back to consciousness. But all it did was trickle across my brow, somehow comforting against the throbbing pain, soothing me into a place somewhere beyond feeling.

Chapter 6 - Marella

Ishould have left the man to die.

He was a member of the Fratelli, a monster driven by blood and lies. Were our situations reversed, had he known who and what I was, I knew that he wouldn’t have hesitated not only to let them kill me, but to aid them in their efforts.

But something about seeing him huddled on the ground, looking at me with that stupid expression of hope and relief, knowing that he’d protected me not once, but twice, had stirred an annoying sort of compassion from somewhere deep inside of me, and I’d acted without thinking.

It was embarrassingly easy to rip my way through the pathetic men. Once I’d slashed Brian’s throat, they’d all cowered before me like children, screaming and begging for their lives as I raked my fingernails through each of them one at a time.

Now, their blood painted the walls of the alley around me, and I barely felt out of breath.

In the middle of the mess, the Fratello lay unconscious, his dagger abandoned on the ground, inches away from his outstretched fingers. At least he hadn’t been awake to witness my outburst. Had he been, I may have had to finish him off as well, despite his aid.

A wave of thirst crashed over me, and I looked up at the thin sliver of sky visible between the towering buildings on either side of us, seeing that the clouds were beginning to shimmer with the faint glow of impending sunrise. My heart pounded relentlessly in my chest. If I didn’t drink soon, I’d miss my chance and end up frozen in stone without waking forever, like my father.

I glanced around at the mess I’d made. There was plenty of blood to choose from, but I found my attention caught by the Fratello. While the blood from the other men reeked of alcohol and drugs, his smelled clean. And while less of it had been spilled, his body was littered with enough lesions that I knew I could add one more without drawing too much attention to the wound.

It was tempting. I knew he would taste better than the disgusting mounds of flesh piled behind me.

But I couldn’t bring myself to bite him. Whether it was out of fear of being discovered by the Fratelli, or simply because I didn’t know what would happen to him if I bit him and left him alive… I turned my attention back to the dead men, even as the smell from their bodies turned my stomach.

When I knew I’d had enough to keep me sustained for the rest of the month, I dropped the last of them to the ground with an unceremonious thud and turned back to the Fratello. I examined him for a moment, partially out of curiosity, partially to ensure that he wasn’t dead after all. But his breathing seemed at ease, his face calm, despite the cuts and bruises covering him. It was as though he’d slipped from troubled unconsciousness into a deep and peaceful sleep. He looked unnaturally innocent in his slumber, sandy blond hair falling into his eyes, making him seem extremely young, even with his face speckled in blood and gore.

But all human men seemed young to me now.

I stood, brushing dirt from my dress as I did so, and began walking back towards the street, moving with purpose as I rushed to get back to the piazza before the sun had fully risen. We were never quite sure what would happen if we were somewhere else when day broke across the city, but after seeing what had happened to my father, I had little desire to test any element of the witch’s curse.

Then, almost without thinking, I stopped and turned back towards the pile of bodies in the alleyway, my gaze falling on the Fratello’s dagger.

It was likely that he’d be blamed for the assault if he were found both near the murdered men and with a weapon in his possession. And while it annoyed me to care about his well-being, something inside me was unsettled by the thought of him being thrown into prison for me.

A frustrated sigh escaped my lips as I turned back around. The piazza wasn’t more than a twenty-minute walk away. I could drag and drop him somewhere safer on my way home.

First, I picked up his dagger and shoved it into the inner pocket of my jacket. Then, with a grunt, I bent down to lift him once more, this time propping him against my shoulder and wrapping my arm around his waist. There was no way that we weren’t going to attract attention; I just hoped that his robes were dark enough to hide the extent of the blood covering his body.