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)
Horrors. Monsters. Things that need to be put down, according to them. More like they’re creatures who are predators without any morality of their own. That doesn’t make them evil. But, either way, I’m not interested in becoming the snack of a predator of the deep.
I move closer to Lizzie, and she holds up a hand. “I’m fine.”
“I didn’t say anything.” She’s most assuredly not fine. There are brackets around her mouth that I’ve never seen before and her pale skin is downright waxy. She’s not shaking, but she hardly looks steady on her feet. Almost drowning is a terrifying experience for even the most hardened sailor, let alone someone actively afraid of the sea. I don’t say it. I have a feeling that Lizzie will snap my head right from my shoulders if I put her fear to words.
Not that I’m going to let that stop me from finding a way to comfort her. “Let’s get you dry.” I ignore her faint sound of protest and wrap an arm around her waist, dragging her with me to the captain’s quarters. The crew very pointedly doesn’t look at either of us as I guide her inside and slam the door behind me.
She spins on me and snaps her fangs. “I said I’m fine.”
“If you were fine, you wouldn’t be throwing a tantrum like a child.” If I thought that she would accept softness, I’d give it to her, but she only knows thorns. There’s a part of me that mourns that, but I will create a safe place for her to land in the emotional aftermath of this experience . . . after I’ve gotten her out of her wet clothes and checked her for injuries. The vampire heals faster than she has any right to, but that doesn’t mean she’s uninjured.
“A . . . tantrum.” Her voice goes low and deadly. “Just because we’ve fucked—”
“I highly suggest you stop right there before you piss me off.” I cut in. “I know you’re scared out of your mind right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to allow you to take it out on me. Get those wet clothes off and let me check you for injuries.”
“I. Am. Fine.”
The fact that she keeps saying it and hasn’t once questioned whether I’m okay only highlights how shaken she really is. Lizzie can be a cold bitch, but she has shown a remarkable amount of caring when it comes to my safety. Sharpness doesn’t seem to be working. Softness it is, then. I march over to her and drag her into my arms. She tries to push me away, but only a little.
Her hands finally come to rest on my hips, fine tremors in her fingers. “Godsdamn it, Maeve.”
“I’m really glad you’re okay,” I say into the crook of her neck. “You scared the shit out of me. There was a moment there where I thought I’d lost you forever.” The words are almost a confession, almost a declaration that I have no intention of making. Because I will lose Lizzie forever. Not to death but to her family and obligations and a realm far beyond Threshold. At least in that scenario, I have the comfort of knowing that she’s alive. Not a water horse’s meal.
She takes in a breath, and it shudders out in a sound that’s almost a sob. Still, she holds herself too straight. As if she’s afraid to bend, because that means she’ll break. My heart aches for her, for the lessons that she had to learn that told her never to show even the slightest bit of weakness. I don’t tell her that she’s safe with me. I don’t think she’ll believe it. I just hold her as tightly as I can until the tension melts out of her body and she collapses into my arms.
“I’m fine,” she whispers.
“You will be.”
When I’m certain she won’t fight me, I ease back and pull off her wet clothes. She doesn’t say anything. She just lifts her arms so I can get her shirt over her head and steps out of her pants after I work them down her legs. Passive. That alone is enough to freak me out, but I manage to keep my worry internal as I guide her unresisting body to the large tub in the captain’s quarters. It’s one of the few ostentatious things on this ship. I was delighted to discover it’s similar to the one at the inn, with magically warm and clean water. It’s even shielded so that it won’t splash out of the metal tub. A useful trick on tumultuous seas, no doubt.
Lizzie resists, digging in her heels as I push her toward the tub. “I’ve had enough water to last me a lifetime.”
“You’ll feel better once you get the salt off your skin. Trust me.”