Page 10

“You–?” Will said, at a loss.

It raised a hand, webbed and clawed, and made a gesture Will didn’t understand. It made a hissing sound, this time without baring its teeth.

“I don’t–I don’t understand,” Will said.

Another gesture. Then the creature lifted one of its long, long legs up and out of the water.

Will was distracted by its obvious nudity only a second before he saw what the creature was trying to show him.

A wound.

There was a deep gash up the creature’s shin, marring the sleek line of scales. Blood was leaking out of the cut sluggishly, almost black in the moonlight.

“Shit,” Will swore. He leaned in to get a better look without thinking. “You should–we should wrap that.”

Then he realized how close he was, and quickly leaned away. His eyes went up to the creature’s face. It was watching him steadily. A bit mistrustfully?

Did it think he was dangerous? That was almost funny considering that of the two of them, Will wasn’t the one with sharp teeth and claws. Will was about half the thing’s size, and, undoubtedly, the weaker of the two.

His attention drifted back to the cut. More black blood oozed out. They needed to do something about that. They shouldn’t just leave it bleeding.

But how could they wrap it? They were surrounded by water, and the closest place with bandages was Will’s trailer. He could guarantee that if he went and came back, the creature would be gone.

Will looked down at himself, at his waterlogged shirt and jeans. The shirt could be a bandage, with a little tearing.

It was better than nothing.

Will lifted his sopping shirt up and off. It was threadbare and thin from too many washes and too much sun. With force, he was able to tear it into messy strips.

“Here, let me,” Will reached forward.

The creature jerked back. It bared his teeth at him, but didn’t hiss.

“It’s okay,” Will said, trying to mime between the fabric he was holding, and the creature’s leg. “I just wanna wrap it. To stop the bleeding.”

Dark eyes watched him for a long moment. Will felt the urge to smile, but held it back. He remembered from some nature documentary in high school that some animals viewed smiling as aggression.

Not that this creature was an animal. It was definitely more of a person. Still.

He softened his tone. “Please,” he said, “let me help.”

Slowly, so slowly, the creature offered its leg.

Will didn’t breathe as he took it, propping the foot over one of his thighs so he could reach the gash. The leg was long, muscled, and heavy. It was warmer than he thought it would be in the cool water, almost burningly hot. The scales covering his skin were surprisingly smooth.

Will had picked up a handful of snakes in his life, and the skin had a similar sleekness. He wanted to slide his hand across the scales, trace the ridges with his fingers. It was fascinating.

He shook the thought off. The adrenaline of the night was making him weird. He needed to focus.

Will took the strips of his shirt and made quick work of wrapping the fabric around the wound as tight as he thought comfortable, and knotted it in place. It took all three strips to cover the length of the gash, and by the end, his hands were covered in black blood.

Could the creature die from this much blood loss? Will didn’t know. Plenty of reptiles could lose whole limbs and carry on, but he had no idea about this being in front of him. Was he even a reptile? He could be something else. Something they didn’t even have words for.

When Will finished, the creature took its leg back. Will dipped his hands into the water to wash them off.

The creature turned his leg toward himself to see what Will had done. It made low hissing and clicking sounds.

Was that speech?