Page 42 of Of Song and Darkness

When I didn’t answer, he motioned to my arm. “You want me to look at that?”

I glanced down at my arm, forgetting that Flynt had inflicted a wound. “It’ll be fine. I’ll have Rhea bandage it later.”

A sly smile brushed across Cael’s lips. “So, it’s Rhea now, and you trust her enough to tend to your wounds?”

“Why don’t you piss off?” I boomed, gripping the wheel so hard my sun-kissed knuckles blanched white.

Cael’s smile widened. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

The sun slipped into the ocean, taking with it the light and all the brilliant colors it left behind. I stood behind the helm, legs slightly spread apart to keep my knees from buckling in fatigue. My gaze kept drifting to the hull of the ship, causing my thoughts to go adrift. Whenever I thought about Rhea nestled in my sheets, my skin broke out in a cold sweat. Common sense and self-loathing rattled against the cage of my mind, trying to make me understand how stupid it was to react that way toward a siren. I shook my head as sleep weighed heavily on my eyelids. We had left Medusa’s island hours ago, and I had been in this position since then. My body and foggy brain demanded a few hours of rest.

“Go below, Kai, before you run us aground.” Cael’s voice jolted me awake, jump-starting my lazed pulse.

Without another word, I released the death grip I had on the wheel, allowing Cael to take control, and dragged my exhausted, tightly wound body below. I stopped in front of the cabin door, arguing with myself, telling myself not to go in after that kiss I planted on her, but my hand lifted and turned the knob of its own accord. I quietly pushed the door open. To my surprise, Rhea had left a candle burning. My gaze snagged on the tiny dancing flame and the drips of wax as they ran down the length of the candle.

When I looked at the bed, my stomach hit the floor. Rhea was face down on the mattress, and red stains seeped through the pristine white sheets. I was by her side in a matter of seconds, pulling back the covers to find the source of blood. Rhea moaned into the pillow, hugging it tighter in her sleep. I moved as quickly and quietly as possible to keep from waking her. She wore one of my white shirts, now saturated in blood. I cursed under my breath for not noticing it before. She’d probably torn her stitches when she confronted Medusa.

I put my arms on either side of her, leaning down. “Rhea,” I whispered in her ear.

She shifted and turned her head, batting her ebony lashes as she stared up at me, confusion twisting her brow.

I tugged at the hem of the shirt. “I need you to take this shirt off. Your back is bleeding. I think you tore your stitches.”

Rhea gasped and sat up. She reached around to her back. Horror danced across her eyes as she looked down at the blood that stained her fingertips and then at the tainted sheets.

She bounded from the bed. “I’m sorry.” Her gaze darted from me to the bed as she chewed her bottom lip.

“No need to be. Sheets are easily cleaned.” I didn’t know why, but it pissed me off that she was apologizing about the sheets. “I’m going to have some hot water brought down so you can bathe and clean your wounds.”

“Thank you,” she said, barely above a whisper.

I reached up to touch her face again, but I shoved my hand in my pocket instead. I walked over to the door, slung it open, and bellowed for Henry. He appeared in the doorway, hair sticking up in all directions and sleep stuck in the corners of his eyes. At sixteen, he wasn’t a boy any longer, but I kept him on my ship to ensure he was cared for until he could fend for himself.

“Fill the tub with bath water,” I instructed.

He threw his hand to his brow in a salute. “Aye, Cap’n.” Then rushed off to do my bidding.

I stood outside the cabin door as Henry toted bucket after bucket of steaming hot water. “It’s full, Cap’n.”

“Back to bed with you then.”

Henry nodded to me. “Aye, Cap’n.”

I glanced inside the cabin as Rhea looked at me and then at the copper tub. “Be quick about it,” I instructed and closed the door.

I stood guard outside the door, arms crossed over my chest as I waited for her to get in the tub. The sloshing of water indicated that she did as I asked. I stalled a few more minutes before pushing the door open and going inside.

Rhea watched me with careful precision. I half expected her to scream at me to get out, but she surprised me yet again as a smirk flickered across her face. “Isn’t it improper in the human world for a man to watch a woman bathe?”

There was something in her tone that was as wicked as it was lovely. It enticed me to step forward. “You’d have to be a human first for that to apply.” I stopped only a foot away from the tub. Against my rakish behavior, I kept my eyes above the waterline. Why I would show such respect to a siren baffled me.

She shrugged and continued to lather the soap on her smooth skin like my presence was little cause for concern.

I knelt beside the tub, dipped my hand in the warm water, and extracted a cloth. “Turn over, and let me take a look at your back.”

She paused, mistrust evident by the way her shoulders pulled taut. She tossed me a warning glare before she flipped over, folding her arms across the edge of the tub and resting her chin on top.

As expected, a few of the stitches had torn. The lesions on her back were red and angry-looking, with dried blood caked across the surface. I dipped the rag into the water and gently scrubbed around the wounds to remove the dried particles.

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