Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Without intending to, I allow myself to fall farther and farther back, the distance between me and the door to the tavern growing. If Nox notices, they make no sign of it. The others follow their lead.
Except for Lizzie.
I’m not quite sure how she manages it, but she slows until her pace matches mine, eventually coming to a stop just outside the merry lights decorating the exterior of the tavern. I love those lights. I hung them with my grandmother when I was fifteen, a project that took days and a few misadventures. They’re a sign of happier times, of when I was a different person. More innocent. They used to represent home and safety and everything a person could want. But looking at them right now, all I can think of is the many ways I’ve failed.
I miss my grandmother like an ache in my bones. I miss my mother even more.
It doesn’t matter. I can’t face them. I don’t know why I thought I could. I make an abrupt turn toward the dark pathway that leads between buildings deeper into the village. Lizzie matches my steps effortlessly. It takes me a few minutes to gather my wits about me enough to question her presence.
“You don’t have to play guard. I’m as safe in this village as I am anywhere else.” The words are bitter on my tongue. I was safe in this village. Until I brought misfortune upon myself. The flavor of self-pity doesn’t sit well with me, but combating it feels as impossible as reclaiming my pelt.
I expect Lizzie to be derisive or maybe insult me. That seems to be her preferred method of communication. Instead, her voice is carefully neutral when she says, “Your family doesn’t know your skin is lost.”
“What an amazing deduction you just made.” I know better than to show anything other than calm in the presence of a predator. I might as well throw blood in the water—and then myself for good measure.
But instead of looking angry or striking back, she merely slides her hands into her pockets and continues walking by my side. “Have you thought about my offer?”
I’ve thought of nothing else. No matter which way I look at it, I really don’t have a choice about accepting it. Lizzie isn’t a local, but she is fearsome in her powers. She’s not a bad ally to have at my side. “I noticed in your offer there’s nothing about feeding you.”
“Maeve . . .” She says my name slowly, as if tasting it. As if tasting me.
My eyesight is better than most in the darkness, which is why I see her lick her lips. As if she can already taste me there. I should be scared out of my mind. I like my blood exactly where it is, contained within skin and muscle and bone. I’m a predator, for all that I don’t look it right now. I don’t feed other predators with my body.
So why is there a little tingle down my spine? Something that isn’t quite fear.
“What?” I finally manage.
“You seem to have an extreme interest in how I feed. If you want me to bite you, just ask. Really, you’re trying too hard.”
I have to stop myself from snapping my teeth at her. She’s so incredibly aggravating. My irritation is the only excuse I have for being perfectly honest. “Even if I was going to say yes to your help, it wouldn’t work. I’m already too far behind, and if the trail goes cold, my chances of finding him—of finding my skin—are practically nonexistent. He’ll sell my pelt before I have a chance to stop him.”
Lizzie shrugs. “So we start tonight. Let’s steal a ship and get out of here.”
I stare, but she doesn’t appear to be joking. Or to have a sense of humor at all. “This is my village. You can’t honestly expect for me to steal from my own people.”
She tilts her head back and looks at the sky above. The stars twinkle merrily, much more distant from our current problems. I envy them. Lizzie laughs softly. “Look at it this way, selkie. It’s not stealing. We have to get back here somehow, and we’ll bring the ship back with us when we do.”
As if that would make it any better. Unfortunately, her plan has a few key issues. “Even if I was willing to follow that logic, there are no ships in Viedna.”
She doesn’t stop short, but there’s a slight hitch in her step. “Impossible.”
“Hardly.” I turn around the corner of the last building and head toward the rocky shore. My feet know this path from many years of traveling it. Every stone and crack as familiar as the freckles on my skin. “Everyone who lives here is a selkie. We don’t need boats to fish and feed ourselves. The rest of the population either have no desire to leave, or they catch a ride on one of the trade ships that pass through regularly.”