Page 46 of Blood on the Tide

I step back and allow Maeve to knock gently on the door. A few moments later, a robed figure, this time in light gray, opens it. They have orange eyes as well, though they are faded to a pale color and lined on each side with age. “A vampire and a selkie. What a strange combination. Come in.”

Maeve and I exchange a look. There are plenty of paranormals who can clock me at a glance, but her? With her pelt tucked carefully into her bag, she could be anyone. I have the strangest desire to turn around and hustle Maeve away, but after making such a big deal about getting her to a healer, there’s nothing I can do but follow her inside.

This, at least, is familiar. I may not recognize all the herbs and jars and miscellaneous paraphernalia in the cabinets lining the walls around the room, but I recognize the sensation of a healer’s place. It doesn’t matter what the culture, what the variety of paranormal, what the time or space or anything else—all these spaces have a vaguely similar feel. Dim and soothing and scented with whatever herbs are designed to relax nervous patients. Most people find it comforting. It makes me want to crawl right out of my skin.

Vampires heal at an exponential rate. All I need to recover from even a mortal wound is blood. We don’t have much use for healers, and there’s a complicated history there where a number of them would very much like to poke and prod us to find out if our healing powers can be applied to others in their care.

Personally, I take exception to being poked and prodded.

I stick close to Maeve as we step into the room and follow the healer’s urging to sit on the wide stone bench in the center. They move to stand before us and clasp their hands in front of them. It’s then that I notice the hands themselves, gnarled with age and containing an extra knuckle on each finger. “I’m Rose. Tell me what brought you here today.”

Maeve puts her hand on my thigh before I can say anything. It’s just as well. She gives the healer a sweet smile. “My friend here was a little overzealous in her bite and took too much blood. I’m feeling fine, but it would reassure her if you would check me over.”

“She was unconscious for two days,” I snap.

Rose turns those eyes on me, and it feels like she sees things that I have no intention of sharing. “More than a little overzealous, then.”

Shame heats my skin, but I meet her gaze steadily. “It won’t happen again.”

Rose shrugs. “Young love and lust often make fools of us all. You’ve seen the consequences of that loss of control.” She moves to Maeve and motions with those delicate fingers. “May I?”

Maeve lifts her hand and places it in Rose’s. The healer does something that makes the air sizzle around us. Defining the nature of the magic isn’t a skill set I have, but I’ve been around long enough that I can often figure it out from context clues. Not this time. Instead, I watch Maeve closely, watch for any signs of discomfort or pain.

Instead, she looks almost peaceful. When Rose releases her hand and steps back, Maeve even smiles. Rose clears her throat. “It’s just as you say. There’s nothing else amiss. She just needs plenty of fluids and rest, and a proper meal wouldn’t hurt.”

Maeve turns to me with a victorious smile. “See, I told you so.”

“We can discuss this later.” I rise and reclaim her hand. “What do I owe you?”

“Consider it a gesture of goodwill.” Rose waves away my offer of payment. “I did nothing but the diagnosis, and that hardly took the time that it cost you to take the lift up to me. You can be on your way.”

It’s as clear a dismissal as I’ve ever heard. I start to turn toward the door but pause. “Thank you.” The words feel odd on my tongue. “I appreciate you taking the time to help us.”

Maeve’s smile is brilliant enough to chase away my discomfort at my politeness. Being vicious and cold has always helped me attain my goals. I’ve never tried being nice. I don’t know how. But I’ve made my selkie happy, and that’s more than reason enough to consider doing it again. “Come on. Let’s find you some food.”

chapter 23

Maeve

It doesn’t take long for us to find a little restaurant one level down from the healer’s residence. Its entrance is a bright yellow with various plates of food and fizzy-looking drinks painted on it. Inside, it’s cozy, all domed ceilings and sturdy furniture. The bartender is dressed in a dizzying robe that shifts color depending on their movement and the light. They immediately point us to a quiet table for two in the back corner.

We gave most of the riches in the captain’s quarters of the Serpent’s Cry to the crew to ensure goodwill, but we kept enough that we won’t have to worry about paying for things for a little while. If I can find someone working with the rebellion on Drash, I can make that money stretch further, but that’s down on my list of priorities at the moment.

I manage to keep my patience until I’ve eaten the bowl of soup—a delicious mix of shellfish and root vegetables—to head off Lizzie’s concern that I have enough nourishment. We need to have a serious conversation, but we won’t manage it if we’re bickering about my growling stomach.

I didn’t expect her to be so protective the moment I got hurt, and I certainly didn’t expect it to last days after I woke up. She’s hovering. Maybe later I’ll relish the knowledge that she cares enough to worry, but right now I want to shake her until the Lizzie I’ve come to know returns.

Once my spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl, I set it down and give her a pointed stare. “No more putting this off. We’re talking now.”

Lizzie swirls the wine in her cup, her expression carefully blank. “I’m listening.”

I fight not to grind my teeth in frustration. I’ve been trying to talk to her since the moment I woke up. Why listen to reason when she can continue lashing herself with guilt? I don’t have high hopes that she’s listening now. I take a deep breath and strive to keep my voice even. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

She finally lifts her gaze to mine, her dark eyes going so cold that I shiver. “What part of you almost died do you not understand, Maeve? There was a point where you went to sleep and I didn’t think you’d wake up again. So no, I don’t think I’m overreacting.”

I grab onto my patience with both hands and do my best to not yell in her face. “This is a discussion you should have with me instead of making unilateral decisions that affect both of us. You hardly attacked me in the bath. I climbed in of my own volition, and I’m the one who drove you past the point of desire until you forgot yourself. More than that, I knew that you were emotionally distraught after your experience with the kelpie, and I still allowed us to get out of control. It took two of us to reach that point, and you need to acknowledge that. I’m not an innocent victim that you attacked in the middle of the night. I chose that, Lizzie. I chose you.”

“You chose that? You chose me?” She lets out a laugh that’s too loud and too harsh. It turns the heads of several people in our nearby space, and she leans closer and lowers her voice. “You don’t even know what you’re saying. Did you know that you would spend the next two days unconscious when you offered up your neck to me?”

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