Page 8 of A Reckless Indulgence

A figure finally leans forward into the light, lips curled back over his teeth. “You lost our fucking mark?”

There’s no use denying Roderick is gone, but giving into Tidus does nothing for her. He’ll be pissed no matter what she says, and the air is already thick with discord. She might as well get her fill. Without a word, she slinks across the room, bending at the waist to twist the lantern’s knob. As the wick grows, so does Tidus’s scowl.

He looks different than the day he captured her. He was brutally handsome then, but now, he’s just brutal. His teal skin has faded to a sickly gray under strands of seaweed tangling in his hair. Barnacles cling to his face next to sand dollars embedded in his dry gills.

The sea is trying to reclaim him. It’s a part of their pact, the agreement all marine species made with the ocean long ago. Whatever they do must embody the powerful allure of the sea. Sirens are given their songs in exchange for inciting chaos. Undines are free to traverse the land, so long as they have a band of loyal followers behind them.

Unfortunately for Tidus, his company has dwindled to only Lyx and a small sloop. When he caught her, he boasted a massive ship and a crew of thirty men, pickpockets and crooks and racketeers. They were all hungry for glory, but Captain Tidus’s cruelty and greed drove even them away until he was left with nothing.

Nothing but Lyx.

Yet Tidus refuses to return to the ocean. It’s as if he thinks he can outsmart the sea itself, taunting the waves by sailing from one con job to another and upsetting the balance of nature. Most infuriating of all, it works. No matter how many storms they weather, Tidus always finds a way back to land.

The sea always claims its due.

That’s what Lyx reminds herself, even if she is powerless to make it happen. Whatever sway she had with the ocean was destroyed the moment she was forced into Tidus’s service. She hasn’t stepped in the sea in years. If she called out to it, she fears she’d hear only an empty echo in return.

Impatient, Tidus presses his pointer finger down against the table. “You heard me.”

The hungry pit inside her takes a long drink. Despite the pandemonium on the Silver Spoon, she needs more. With one hand, she plucks a pin from her hair and turns away. “Relax.”

Tidus’s chair creaks under his weight.

She refuses to flinch, no matter how her skin crawls. Give Tidus an inkling of fear, and he’ll hunt it down like a shark with a drop of blood. Placing the pin between her teeth, she unwinds the tendrils of her hair and takes a steadying breath.

Tidus’s voice is low and threatening. “I’m sure I didn’t hear you correctly.”

The scales on the back of her shoulders lift. It’s like she can’t help herself, her hunger egging her on. She pulls another pin from her hair and slips it between her knuckles. It’s a flimsy weapon. She should have kept the cheese knife from the ship, but using that on Tidus would only enrage him.

Which is what she wants, she reminds herself again. Fighting means feeding. Fighting is what she needs.

Her voice is clipped by the pin between her teeth. “I got what you wanted.”

Tidus pushes to his feet, and the rotting floorboards groan. “Is that so?”

She hates having him at her back, blocking out the light when he towers over her. With one finger, he twists a lock of her hair until it tugs at her scalp.

She doesn’t gasp. Doesn’t even breathe.

His teeth scrape her neck, but any tenderness is a mask for his barely-concealed fury. “How could you get what I want,” he asks slowly, “if our mark is at the bottom of the fucking ocean?”

Her throat constricts. Depths, she wishes she could command him away, but she can’t even look at him. That would be an invitation, a strike of the match she was so eager to light moments ago. She thinks of all the sailors she’s drowned. Is this how they felt as she pulled them beneath the waves? Is this what it’s like to dangle over the mouth of a beast?

Tidus’s fingers clamp under her chin to jerk her toward him. She resists, but he wrenches harder, and she bites down a pained gasp when the broken shells that coat his hands dig into her flesh. “You seem distracted, little fish.” His saccharine tone curdles in her stomach while his fingers tighten. “Which is odd, because I’m speaking to you.”

Her pulse races. She has to remember that this is what she needs, an appetizer for the feast that comes after. The danger is a necessity. It’s the drink that fills her, drizzling down her throat until she can’t swallow any more. She chokes on it and spits back all the venom she has. “I told you, I got what you want.”

FOUR

Lyx

Curiosity overtakes Tidus’s rage. “You got a meeting with Heathen?”

Pain tingles through Lyx’s jaw. She jerks out of his grip. “Turns out your favorite little rat works for them now.”

Tidus lifts a puzzled brow.

“Cavalier,” she reminds him. When Tidus looks at her blankly, her skin prickles. “The one who drew the map!”