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)
“It will. Trust me.”
For a moment, I think she’ll continue to argue, but she finally exhales slowly. “Okay, Lizzie. I trust you. I just hope that trust doesn’t get me killed.”
chapter 15
Maeve
You know,” Lizzie says idly. “This is the third time I’ve snuck aboard a ship with the intent of murder. What a strange coincidence. I think I like this life of piracy.”
“The third time.” Obviously one of those was saving me, but when did it happen before? It’s not something I need to be asking right now when we’re hanging from the side of the Serpent’s Cry. But it seems like information I probably should have had before we started this desperate plan.
“Seems to be becoming a habit.” She glances at me, her eyes glowing crimson. Lizzie is having the time of her life. She’s not exactly smiling, but she seems lit up in a way I’ve never seen before.
“Again, Lizzie, you absolutely cannot murder everyone on this ship.”
“Killjoy.” She nudges me with her elbow, and I swear she grins, but the expression is there and gone again so fast it’s hard to tell for certain. She’s enjoying herself, no doubt about it. She’s downright giddy.
“Lizzie—”
“If you keep saying my name like that, I might forget what we’re about tonight.” She leans in close and speaks softly in my ear. “I haven’t forgotten our earlier conversation. We’ll definitely be discussing that after we’re done here.”
As if climbing aboard the Serpent’s Cry, murdering our way to the captaincy, and scaring the crew into joining us is as simple as popping into the store to pick up some salt. A task with no risk, one that’s almost boring in its mundaneness.
I can’t do this.
I’m not made for adventure and grand journeys and murder. I might want to rip Bronagh’s face right off with my teeth, but that is the exception to the rule. It’s also more a violent fantasy than an intent to harm. I know the basics of fighting, but that’s not enough for me to survive what comes next.
“Maeve.” Lizzie’s hand closes on the back of my neck, firm and heavy. “Breathe.”
I hadn’t even realized that I’d stopped. I draw in a jagged breath and then another. It doesn’t quite stop the shaking in my limbs, but at least I’m not about to fall off the side of the ship.
Still, it’s on the tip of my tongue to call the whole thing off. I never get the chance. Lizzie goes still, a predator about to pounce. “There he is.”
And then she’s moving, hauling herself over the railing and onto the deck. I scramble after her, but I’m too damned slow. All I catch sight of is a surprised look on Bronagh’s face before she strikes. It happens so fast that my brain blips. Surely she didn’t just take off his head with her bare fingers. Surely the head in question isn’t bouncing across the deck to stop at my feet. Surely this is all a bad dream.
But it’s not.
The blood touches the toes of my boots, and that horrible image is enough to get me moving. The crew that’s awake are already sounding the alarm, and Lizzie darts toward the nearest one, the blood painting her hands sharpening into claws. I knew she could control blood, but for some reason, it never occurred to me that she could turn it into a weapon. The claws are easily several inches longer than her fingers and absolutely deadly.
I don’t stop to think. I just react on instinct. “No murder, Lizzie!”
She’s moving fast enough that I shouldn’t be able to see her pull her strike, but I witness it all the same. Instead of beheading yet another person, she hits their neck with the edge of her hand. They go down instantly. Then she’s next to me, nudging me aside none too gently as another of the sailors swings a broadsword into the place where I just stood. “If you don’t want me to murder people, then you’re going to have to defend yourself.” She kicks the sword out of their hands, sending it flying off into the night. Somehow, she’s not out of breath. “If someone so much as scratches you, I’m going to rip out their spine. Your choice, Maeve.”
I blink. She delivers the words in a casual conversational tone as if we’re sitting down to dinner instead of in the middle of a fight for our lives. Except it’s not really a fight for our lives, is it? Lizzie moves through the sailors on deck, knocking them out before they have a chance to do more than turn in her direction. I would think that she had killed them, but the chest of the one nearest to me rises and falls steadily.
She’s holding her punches. For me.
“Maeve! Get moving!”
I dart forward just as another sailor rushes out from belowdecks. This one is familiar to me, one of Bronagh’s friends. I don’t hesitate to shove him over the railing and into the water. It’s not as smooth or as fearsome as the way that Lizzie fights, but it gets the job done.