Page 7 of A Reckless Indulgence

Lyx gapes at him. “You’re smiling?”

Even in his state, it’s undeniable, his mouth tilted up at the corners as if death isn’t waiting to greet him. “If that’s how I’m gonna go…” With chapped lips, he gives a poor attempt at a whistle. “Kinda…poetic.”

Her teeth grind. “Poetic?”

“Pirates ‘n sirens…” His words turn to slurry, fading as swiftly as the rest of him. “Tale as old as…”

Finally, the pirate falls silent. Slowly, Lyx rises to her feet, fearing the movement might rouse him into another inane conversation. But the longer she waits, the quieter it grows. Soon, there’s nothing but the shush of waves disguising any rise and fall of his chest.

She doesn’t even have to kill him. He’ll be dead before sunrise.

Still, she should do it herself. Killing him would fuel her, stirring up chaos to bask in like a lizard on a rock. Her siblings wouldn’t pass up the chance to feed; they would drown him and eat the remains for fun.

But this pirate is so weak already. He wouldn’t even put up a fight. Where’s the fun in that?

She watches him down her nose. Such an odd creature. He’s as brazen as a seagull, but placid as a whale. It’s…unnerving. Only like this can she tolerate him — when he isn’t speaking, isn’t saying strange things that no normal person would utter, isn’t looking at her with those eyes as warm as wax.

Why does it rattle her? What about this pirate is so confounding?

Her toes curl against the rocks. It doesn’t matter. He’ll die the same as all the others, and when she returns tomorrow, all that will be left will be a corpse…or nothing at all.

With that, she wades to the edge of the ledge and dives back into the sea.

THREE

Lyx

Killing Cav is always an option.

Lyx jerks to a halt where she’s stalking down the beach. The temptation is strong; she could turn back. Cav can’t have gotten far from the docks. She’ll find a broken bottle along the way and entice him into a dark corner before she drags the jagged edge across his throat.

But killing him isn’t enough.

Not for all the time she’s spent imagining it. For the past two years, that vision has hung like a portrait in her mind. It’s the backdrop to all her thoughts, a work of art that she pours over day after day. There are always new details to enchant her. What sounds will Cav make when she gets her teeth into him? Which will die first: the ember inside him, or the light in his eyes? Will he fight her off, or will he embrace this urge the same way he welcomed all her others?

A shiver darts through her. No. No matter how the memories try to crawl back into her conscience, she sloughs them off. Killing Cav is too easy. After all these months, she wants to take her time with it. Saliva gathers in the back of her throat. It’s not Cav’s death that entices her; it’s the thought of ripping him apart and devouring the pieces, a torturous end that she can draw out for as long as she pleases. He doesn’t deserve a quick death. He deserves the agonizing pain he’s caused her. He deserves to have every second of his life invaded the same way he’s done to her.

Her foot snags on a clump of seaweed. She kicks to free herself, but the tendrils tangle around her legs until she’s forced to tug off her sandals.

For all this time spent imagining Cav, she wasn’t prepared for what seeing him again would do to her. He looks different now. His hair is longer, half-covering the slit pupils of his eyes. Even the vibrant color has returned to his skin.

She clamps her lips together, like that will stifle the thoughts. The pearls of her dress clack as she picks her way along the beach. She doesn’t know which direction she’s headed, but she knows it’s the right one; the tugging sensation at the base of her throat tells her that. Eventually, she comes to a shallow inlet where the waves roll deep into the island.

Her shoulders tense. She has to cross here. Wading across would be simple, but her gills flutter anxiously. The ocean is not her home anymore; she lost its favor when she lost everything else. Waves that once created her now roll past with white cap warnings that she doesn’t understand, spoken in a language she can no longer decipher.

She dares not even dip her toes in.

Instead, she moves further inland until she finds some jagged rocks poking out of the water. With each step, the sharp edges dig into her feet, but she bites her cheek to keep moving. Past the shrubbery and driftwood, an abandoned cottage comes into view. It can hardly be called a building any longer, vines growing wild over its sides and leaving little more than broken windows and a lamp flickering inside.

Lyx’s stomach drops. Tidus beat her back here. Who knows how long he’s been waiting? No doubt he’s been stewing in the dark, turning his anger over in his hands until it sharpens into something worse.

She has to remind herself that’s what she wants. It’s what she needs. Chaos. That thought alone stirs the hungry pit inside her until it opens its jaws to be fed.

The splintering cottage stairs prick her. She feels for the door, but when she pushes, it doesn’t budge. She has to jam her shoulder into it twice before it opens. Its rusty hinges squeal, a grating sound outdone only by the stench of mildew. When Lyx finally squeezes inside, grains of salt and sand dig into her feet.

Across the room, a busted crate hosts an oil lantern that sheds less than a foot of light.

Lyx lingers in the shadows for an entire minute. It’s a foolish act of rebellion, but she relishes the small hit of power, like she can control what happens. She’s not naive enough to believe that completely. Her defiance will be nothing more than foreplay, but it works for now.