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The waters surrounding the island were crystal clear, and the moonlight was more than enough to illuminate the beings meandering below the surface. I unsheathed my cutlass and laid the blade across my lap. “Do not look overboard, men.”
William acknowledged the warning with a nod, but the others stared at me as if I’d just sentenced them all to a slow, painful death. The thing was, sirens rarely surfaced without provocation, and a simple skiff in the water wasn’t enough to draw their ire.
A body flailing in the water? Yes, that was a time to be worried. Crafts, on the other hand, were typically only at risk during a storm.
“These waters and the creatures they house are no threat to us, so long as we abide by the rules.” I glanced at the moonlit faces before me—too wide eyes and quivering lips—and suppressed the resigned sigh building in my chest.
Why was good help always so difficult to find?
When we drew close to shore, the two men at the front dropped into the water and pulled the skiff ashore as if their lives depended on it. A quick glance behind me revealed their hurried motivation: three dark forms moving in lazy circles several yards out.
The sirens had spotted us.
“How long to do you figure we have until the demon returns,” William asked, reaching out a helpful hand.
I waved him off and swung myself over the edge of the small boat, smiling as I dropped into the shin-deep water. “It could be as little as a few hours or as much as two days.” Though I was betting on the shorter of the two.
It rarely took more than a day for demon’s body to begin to wither and crumble. At the end of two days, the stardust that created it would find its way back to the Nassa Realm and reform around the demon’s shadow.
“Do you think it’s true about another Darling boy?” one of the other men asked, his voice whistling quietly through the gap in his front teeth.
Such a thing could always be true. We existed inside a magical realm in which time passed at an unpredictable pace and where all manner of fantastical creature could be found. It was a place where simply believing in a thing could make it a reality, but only if you were unfortunate enough to find yourself in the vicinity of fairy dust.
I ignored the question and motioned to the skiff. “You and the others make sure to pull that up beyond the high tide line and lash it to something sturdy. I won’t be the one swimming for it over a bit of laziness.”
I scanned the shoreline, cataloging the rippled sand bars lined with wavy rows of colorful sea glass. Animal prints dotted the damp sand, but I saw no sign of humans aside from my men.
Good. That meant the Darling child hadn’t made an appearance yet, which gave us time to set a few traps for him.
“What is the plan, sir?” William asked, stepping up beside me.
For the first time in ages, I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips. It might have been a vindictive smile, but it was a welcome change all the same. “When was the last time you set up a snare?”
3
NEVER
If I died, I was going to be absolutely pissed. I would be the bitchiest ghost ever to beat her ethereal fists against the veil.
Why?
Because I had things to do in my mortal life, like getting Matty through his last year of high school.
The demon huffed in the darkness and took another step toward me with its green eyes shifting quickly between me and the trees.
What the hell was it waiting for?
I expected another growl, or for its monster partner to come up from behind to rip my face off, because those were the happy thoughts I needed to be having when I was in the middle of a fight, but there was only silence in those dark woods.
Had I imagined that growl?
I edged back slowly, but the demon zeroed in on the movement. So much for sneakily getting back on my feet. I pressed against the damp earth and tucked my body into a ball as I threw myself backward, executing what was probably the most graceful reverse somersault I’d ever managed, all while holding a sharp blade. My old gym teacher would have been so proud.
In half a second, I was on my feet with my knife at the ready, but my quick thinking did nothing to impress my new demon buddy. Nope, that bastard launched at me with its nasty gnashing teeth and curved claws. Fire lanced my forearm as it sliced clean through my leather jacket.
“Sonofabitch!” I flipped the knife to my other hand and plunged it into the thing’s shoulder. “This is my favorite jacket, dick.”
That wasn’t a lie. It was my favorite, but I didn’t actually care that much about it. It was a thing. Things could be replaced. But thinking out loud helped to keep me centered. When I let the words bleed out, it left me so much more space in my brain for strategy. The fact that my chattiness tended to confuse my opponents was just a happy accident.
