Angel’s webbed hand cups mine, and I let her pull me toward a dock filled with boats. My heart is racing, but Gil gave his blessing. How much trouble could the two of us possibly get into?
Chapter 25
Marina
Alot, it turns out.
Because, the thing is, Angel doesn’t know how to drive. That’s obvious as soon as she takes the steering wheel. The boat juts through the water, rocking as if we’re in a tsunami. It’s impressive considering there’s barely a breeze, much less waves to navigate. Still, Angel drives like she’s auditioning for an aquatic NASCAR league.
“Do you want to have a go?” she shouts over the roaring motor. I’ve never driven a boat, but by the way the thing jets forward in the water, I can’t do any worse.
“Um…” My nails dig so tightly into the armrest I worry I might leave claw marks. “Yeah, okay, let’s—”
I move to take the wheel just as she hits the gas, throwing her head back with a cackle. “Okay, this part is a little bumpy! Hang on!”
Bumpy is an understatement.
I close my eyes just before the nose of the boat beaches into an inlet. Angel can’t steer around the land fast enough. A few marks from my nails in the leather seats will be nothing compared to whatever damage she causes.
My body rocks to the side, but the two of us steady ourselves quickly. In non-boating terms, it isn’t much more than a fender bender, but it’s still a dent.
A dent—a massive dent.
“Should we call Gil? If he’s still at your headquarters he can bring a spare part or…” I gulp. What if he’s upset? I wasn’t driving, but this is still bad, right?
“Why?” she asks, grabbing a small bag stowed in the backseat. “I was only parking.”
Oh no…
Is this how everyone drives here?
Next time someone offers a tour, we are swimming. Still, my sour stomach improves with the sound of music on the air—voices too.
The path is made of lily pads, similar to what Gil’s bed is made of. On shaky legs, I follow Angel’s long strides as she leads me toward solid land. Giant reeds stretch toward the sky, the scenery green and lush, but enormous as if we’ve been shrunk down to the size of bugs.
The ripe apple smell of marsh marigolds on the water tickles my senses as the reeds open up to an outdoor market. Rows of stalls, lit by fireflies, sell a wide variety of goods.
Each head in the crowd is adorned with colorful flowers in shades that pop against the green. Pink and blues and—it’s all so pretty. Everything smells of pungent florals and herbs I don’t recognize.
“Come on!” Angel says. There’s not much room to idle as she tugs me along with a sisterly gesture that makes something locked away in my heart bloom.
As we move through the crowd, I try not to stare at the large hulking creatures with curved beaks and large wings walking among faeries who range from broad-shouldered, dainty, and everywhere perfectly in between. Some are wearing … nothing. Others are dressed in gowns that suit the summertime, the colors of the flowers and marsh reflected in the fabric.
And as for the Gillarians, their scales range from muted to vivid with fins and patterns that mimic the fish from my world.
They’re all so beautiful in their own ways, and I’m stunned by how comfortable everyone seems in their skin, fur, feathers, and scales.
The scent of fried food fills the crowded streets. I’m worried that if I don’t keep perfectly in step with Angel, I’ll lose track of her, and I think I’ve had enough misadventures for the day. She holds tight to my hand as we weave through the market. She may not be a good driver, but she is a good guide.
I assumed I’d have to keep a low profile here, but Angel knowseveryone, introducing me to people so quickly and warmly, I begin to let my guard down.
None of them bat an eye at my appearance—psoriasis included. Given I thought it would just be Gil and me today, I didn’t think to cover up, and it’s possible that in a place where creatures, vampires, and faeries co-exist, the little patches of red on my skin are of no consequence.
“Does it matter that I’m a human?” I whisper, leaning in close as Angel passes me a drink I didn’t order. The cup feels like paper but is transparent with a pink glittery liquid inside.
“People don’t like to assume—for all they know, you’re the most powerful vampire in the realms or a faerie hiding her wings,” she says after a thoughtful pause. “You could be anyone here.”
Anyone…
