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A buzzing rushed in her ears, snapping her eyes open. She took in the aquamarine slush surrounding them even while outside forces tried to get in. It looked like dark gray balls punching now and then. The rocking continued to the punch’s beat, a rhythm that jarred her body into a swinging motion. Back and forth she went…right between the pole and him. When a particularly violent swing sent her flying once more, his hand splayed over her stomach before she could hit the pole hard.
Are you okay?That hand seemed to say.
Another swing and he was the one flying backward, body trembling from the impact. But he cushioned her fall, too, never letting go. Heat flourished between them despite the cold, but the latter was on a vengeance as it dug its way inside them until she was shivering. When an iciness hit her spine, she looked around again and noticed that the aquamarine slush was gone. The murky way made its way in, seeming to swallow them whole before their ship was thrown into the depths of dark, vast water.
Panic seized her. Fingers ushered her to lean into his safe space, his warmth a steady presence.
It’s okay,was what it said this time, conveyed in a way that helped ease the helplessness she felt. The darkness kept going…then, changed as it got clearer and clearer. Before it reached crystal clear quality, movement glinted from afar, and Isaiah’s body tensed. The aquamarine formed again, this time like a glass dome that slowly encased the ship. It raced against more figures rocketing toward them, blurry at first before she comprehended what she was seeing.
A battle-cry burst from wide lips where jagged teeth were bared. The men’s bottomless black eyes lasered in on them as their scaly, spiky tails took them closer and closer. Talons curled, the sharpness guaranteeing that they would rip anything to shreds. Then the glass sheen of blue closed, and those talons made a clinking sound as they tried to pierce but couldn’t.
“Fuck. Holy hell. We almost didn’t make it.”
Strangled laughter gurgled from Isaiah’s throat, the husky sound slithering into her belly. She gulped in air, in awe that they weren’t drowning, and recalled his words.
Don’t say a word until we are blanketed.
“Is that going to hold?” she asked.
“It should. Unless we run into an army of them.”
There were already about twenty circling them, a few still trying to swipe at the dome. But no scratch marks were left behind. She shuddered at the idea of a hundred.
“Don’t worry. I got you. We are in their upper territory. Most of them hide deep.”
The ropes loosened around them, and he shimmied out first. She felt the loss of his heat, inwardly brushed it off, and stepped out from between the poles, too. The aquamarine gemstone caught her eye once again, embedded into the wood.
“Where did you get that?”
A smirk played on his lips. “Somewhere really special. And dangerous.”
Footsteps emerged, but a quiet set of feet arrived faster. Maddox surveyed her form and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Nic!” Moon exclaimed, coming up beside him. “You were supposed to stay with me.”
“Sorry, Moon, I got busy at the back. But the captain was here, too.”
“Are you good?” Maddox asked.
“Never better,” she replied.
Isaiah was watching them before he turned away. “Good job, fellas. I think it’s safe to say we have time to kill, so let’s use that time wisely.”
Everyone dispersed, including the captain, who didn’t spare her a glance. She eyed his back, then looked to Maddox for directions, but the man was just as lost as she was. He shrugged.
“Let’s just go with the flow.”
As it turned out, using their time wisely meant rotating between guarding the ship, checking the glass dome for changes, eating, and catching up on some sleep. The rest of the hours were downtime, and the lack of sunlight did wonders for her energy. So, she volunteered for most of the guarding and checking, roaming the ship and feeling her boldest since she had gotten here. But it didn’t eliminate the nerves as the creatures lurked in the corner, following their ship’s movement as if they had nothing better to do, too.
“They are still following us.”
“They always do.” Wheeler wrinkled his nose. “Ugly little fuckers.”
She shot him an amused look. “They will hear you.”
“They speak another language. I think. Anyway, following is all they do.”
It should give her a sense of relief. She peered at them suspiciously, meeting one’s gaze and feeling the pull of bottomless pits. To her shock, she actively needed to plant her feet and not take a step forward. Forcibly, she tore her gaze away.
