Page 4 of The Temptation of Roan Island

“Is your son supposed to be on it?” Kay looks once more at the water and shudders. “It might be hard to fall in love if your attention is divided.”

Love. That’s a word from another time. Even now, when love might be our only chance at survival, I can’t bring myself to hope for that. It’s too much to ask for.

Anna shrugs. “It’ll just make it easier for us to find time alone with the Roan brothers if she’s off tending a child.”

And there it is. The reminder that it’s every woman for herself out here on Roan Island. Sighing, I focus on the dark gray horizon, cut by rolling red and white water, and tell them once more what I’ve told them before. “I’m not interested in competing with you for Shemaiah’s or Jafeth’s attention. I just want to spend my remaining days with my son.”

Away from The Sanatorium.

Anna snorts.

I don’t respond, knowing she doesn’t mean to be petty and divisive. She’s scared and trying to survive. I can’t and won’t fault her for that. But when it comes to my son, I’ll do anything to to be reunited with him, and I won’t let anyone get in my way.

2

SHEMAIAH

Ishouldn’t be watching her like an animal observing its prey. Even if I am a predator. When I left the manor, my intention was to distance myself from the human women, not stalk one of them. But this close to the new moon, it’s more challenging to control my hunger, and I hadn’t anticipated Pippa standing by the lake with only a green shawl to keep her warm.

It may not be snowing, but the biting wind whipping off the water is treacherous. Hidden by the trees, my keen eyesight takes in her precarious position at the end of the dock and the way she grips the boat mooring to keep herself steady. She seems weaker today than she was yesterday. It’s clear she’s been out here too long, but her gaze remains fixed on the horizon.

Inhaling, I search for her scent, but the wind blows it away from me. I move silently from one tree to the next, closer, a thrill running up my spine. My hearts pound against my ribs. The urge to track her runs in my veins like the swell of a tide. She looks so fragile against the backdrop of the crimson lake. With slow, steady movements, I ease forward, alert to my surroundings, attuned to each twitch of her body as the dock sways.

She turns, looking in this direction, and I move back. Silent. Still. Hidden.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. This is ridiculous. I should go to her, give her my coat, and stop acting like a fucking animal. I take a step out from behind the tree, intent on doing just that, but laughter cuts past the wind. Our other guests emerge from the house, and I slink into the darkness, returning to the shadows.

I have no desire to engage with Anna and Kay right now. All they do is flirt. In contrast, Pippa’s indifference is exactly what makes her tolerable to be around. Once she heard what would need to happen in order to save her from her illness, and the unlikelihood of it, her attention shifted solely to her son.

“If there’s a chance I could spend my remaining time with him… I’ll take it.”

She asked for my help in finding the boy and bringing him to Roan Island, and though I don’t think the manor is a proper place for a young child, I couldn’t fault her for her desire to be with her son. Despite my misgivings, it’s not my place to say whether she can or cannot see him in the time she has left. My family has the means to make that happen, and I’ll see it through.

I picture her coming into the library a week ago, asking for her son to be brought to the island, and the way awareness gripped me that day. Her hair was pulled into a bun, and I had the urge to undo it and see how far it fell down her back. At that moment, lust climbed into my body like an unwelcome bedfellow. I thought it would wane. It hasn’t.

I won’t let myself have her, but I sent for her son.

It was the least I could do after she, and the other women from The Sanatorium, helped us rid the world of Hammish Roan, one of them even losing their life in the effort.

I’m actually surprised Pippa’s son isn’t already here. It’s been a week since I wrote to The New Essik Family Group at her request, inviting him to come stay at the Roan Estate as my temporary ward.

To the people of New Essik, the Roan family is rich, with a great deal of power in the colonies. They don’t know what we really are, the threat we really pose. Still, it’s odd that the orphanage would risk ignoring my request. If the child isn’t on the boat this evening, I’ll have to write again, making it clear this is not a suggestion, but a demand. A healthy donation should have been enough incentive.

The sound of the women’s voices comes in stops and starts. I can’t hear them as well as I’d like because of the wind.

Pippa’s shawl dips down her shoulder, her arms crossed over her chest, and even from this distance I can see that she’s shivering. She shouldn’t be out here in the cold in her condition. They shouldn’t be out in the cold.

The boat won’t be here for hours. It’ll come later today, bringing guests for the New Moon Party.

I wonder if Pippa will join us. She shouldn’t. No, they shouldn’t. The activities of the night would be a detriment to the women’s health and only speed up their decline. Being out here in the cold will do that, too. I should escort her back. Them back.

I stay rooted to the earth, planted between the leafless trees whose twisted branches are a barrier to the truth of my voyeurism. I’m still vacillating about insisting that Pippa—all of them—return to the house when Anna and Kay turn, headed back the way they came. Pippa lingers. Strands of her blond hair pull from her bun and lash about in the cold wind.

She’s not my responsibility.

She’s already dying, and if she wants to speed up that process, I have no right to stop her. I take two deep breaths, three, before resuming my hike through the woods, toward the meadow and the only grave on this goddess-forsaken island. I barely make it two steps before I hear my brother’s voice.

“And where are you off to?” Jafeth leans against a tree between me and the manor, casually studying the black leather of his gloved hand. “Hiding?”