“What? The lighthouse? Oh, that’s not a want. That’s a delusion. You’ll get over it.”
This man was unreal, so unreal it felt like a dream. But the fact that itwasreal made the absurdity of it suddenly very infuriating.
But he still had a gun. She had to get him away from the gun or get to her own. And then? Could she shoot him? It should be easy, shouldn’t it, against a man who wanted to ruin her life? Sowhydid it feel like it would still be difficult?
But moral debate aside, first she had to get to the gun. Logic. She had to use logic. “Mr. Runington, did you honestly shoot Mr. Wilson? If that was his blood in the water, if what you said was true about the monster”—she hated even saying that word in regards to Kallias—“then we must go save him.”
“Must?” he repeated. “We must do nothing. Or do youactually like him?”
“That’s a life. Regardless of how I feel about him. How can you treat that so callously?”
“Because he’s already dead.”
“You don’t know that!” Oh, how she prayed he didn’t.
“I do. I saw the beast and what it’s capable of. Ah, or do you not believe me? You don’t seem to.” His smile was absolutely wicked, like a viper, like a demon, like a beast himself.
“No, I don’t,” she growled.
“Is that because you don’t believe in monsters or because you’ve met the mermaid yourself?”
CHAPTER 87
She tried to remain calm and not let her expression change. She wasn’t sure she was successful. “It’s a mermaid now, not a monster?” she said. “And before it was a ghost. Next will it be a werewolf?”
“You’re very cute, you know,” he said. His eyes were so narrow, so intently focused on her. His smile was so wicked, enjoying whatever this was too much.
“Excuse me?”
“Pretending you haven’t seen it.”
“Based on how often it changes, I doubt you have either.” She smirked.
That got some anger and he actually raised the barrel of the gun to point to the side of her head, just inches away from her temple. “Don’t youdarelaugh at me.” She wasn’t sure she had, but there was no chance of that now with a gun near her head. She found she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Was this how she was going to die? “Mr. Runington—”
“Zadock.”
“You cannot possibly be forcing familiarity with me at gunpoint—”
“Zadock.” He said the two syllables like each was a word of its own, and was she crazy or did the barrel get closer?
Fear told her to say it, but everything else revolted. She was not about to give in. Give one inch and he’d take them all. “Mr. Runington.” She prayed he wouldn’t shoot, but she held her ground, meeting his eyes now and not the gun.
They glared at each other until finally helaughedand the gun lowered. “My God, I like you, Miss Wains. We’re going to make agreat couple.”
She almost twitched. This man was impossible.
“Just tell me one thing,” he said.
“What?”
He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Could you not swear to chastity because of that mermaid then?”
CHAPTER 88
Now it was her turn to laugh. Laugh because it was so ridiculous. Laugh because of fear. Laugh because he was dead on.
“Mr. Runington, whatever do you—”
