Page 41 of Stalking Wendy Darling

I could have stopped her before she threw him against the railing so hard he toppled over, but I was too focused on the little thrill that went through my stomach when Wendy smiled. This wasn’t a kind smile, wasn’t bright with happiness. It was a fox’s smile, sharp and dangerous, and Ilovedit. By the time I dragged my stare away from her golden face, bathed in glorious moonlight, he’d pitched into the ocean.

“What?” Wendy asked innocently when she caught me and others looking. “I tried to save him. Hefell.”

I pressed my lips together to kill a smile. She broke the only damn rule I gave her, and I still found her charming. That had to stop. I had to find some level of professionalism. Wendy couldn’t, literally, get away with murder. A man had to havesomepride.

The issue was I loved her smile and killing people put it on her face.

“Get away from the rail, you madwoman,” Joanna barked, finally catching up to her sister, shaking her head in exasperation, water drenching her black hair to her head instead of its usual halo.

“Don’t even think about it,” Vea snapped, sharply enough that I whipped around to look at her, narrowing my eyes at the way Rolando and some of his buddies crowded her to the mainmast. “That thing would spit me right back out. I’m not fish food.”

“No,” I agreed, loudly enough that they’d hear me, “she isn’t.” I spotted my surgeon among the group and narrowed my eyes in warning. “Keep at it, Armstrong, and I’ll give her your job.”

Vea grinned and sidestepped Rolando, skipping to my side. “Any orders, sir?”

“Don’t get yourself killed,” I muttered, setting my eyes back on Wendy, my heart skipping until I found her with Sterling knotting a rope into place.

“Brace yourselves!” a shout rippled down the Banshee, nerves carrying with it. I held onto the helm, planting my feet, and gritted my teeth when a tentacle collided with the side of the ship with so much force that we tipped.

“Move it!” I screamed when the crew froze. “Get us level or I’ll let the creature eat all of you.”

I hauled on the wheel, my heartbeat rapid, erratic, as the crew scrambled to right us, the wind working against us, determined to tip the Banshee.

“Faster!” I yelled. “We’re tipping!”

Ice trickled down my spine, making me shiver as we hovered on the precipice of tipping into the ocean. The wheel fought to rip itself from my hand, but I held on so fiercely I got splinters, my stare jumping from crew member to crew member as they hauled on ropes, heaving sails to catch the wind until we could finally tame it, make it our tool again. I only breathed again when we began to right ourselves on the waves, but I was shaky. Breathless.

I did a rapid scan of the deck, taking stock of the crew, searching for Wendy and exhaling hard when I found her side by side with her sister and Maceo. She was fine. As drenched as a drowned rat, but fine.

Sensing my eyes on her, she turned, her eyes cutting me to the bone. She didn’t look afraid, not even a little bit worried. Thrill and happiness shone in her storm eyes, making my stomach ripple with a sudden influx of butterflies. She held me there, transfixed in her stare, in her happiness. I should have looked away.

A dark, oily tentacle shot out of the ocean and whipped towards her, moving with power and speed. It cut the night, cut across the deck, and I was already releasing the wheel, already throwing myself across the ship towards her.

I braced to catch her when the monster slammed into her, ready to lock my arms around her when it sent her crashing into the mast, ready to protect her even if she was broken and bleeding, but— I staggered, throwing my panicked stare around, faltering at the empty space where she’d been. She wasn’t thrown against the mast, wasn’t splayed bleeding over the deck. She was nowhere to be seen.

The sea god had taken her.

Chapter Twenty-Two

WENDY

Joanna’s scream rattled my ears as I flew through the air. The slimy limb wrapped around my middle constricted so tightly, all air left my lungs. I tried to yell that I’d be fine, but the monster whipped me away from the Banshee so quickly that wind stole my words and I choked. Motherfucker.

I expected to body-slam the ocean, and I knew without a shadow of doubt it was going to hurt like a bitch, but there was little chance I could curl into a ball to protect my organs when said organs were being squished by a sea monster. A seagod.

I wasn’t even sure I believed in gods, yet apparently one had plucked me off the sea-drowned deck of the Banshee and was flinging me through the cold air. I squinted, not wanting to see the black wall of the ocean coming for me but not wanting to be caught off guard either. I sucked in a shrieking breath when I saw what was actually below me. Not the inky depths of the ocean. A massive, yawning mouth full of teeth. And where the creature hovered just below the water’s surface were a hundredeyes, all a luminous green. When they all blinked at once, my stomach turned over.

That was entirely too many eyes. And too many teeth while we were at it. I flailed my arms, trying to stretch my fingertips to where my knives were strapped to my thighs. I managed to brush my waist sheathe, hope buoying my heart, but I snarled a curse when I found it empty.

And then my stomach shot into my throat when I saw that huge, devouring mouthmuchcloser as the god’s tentacle dropped me lower. My next ragged inhale tasted like rotten flesh and brimstone. I renewed my frantic attempts to reach the sheathes at my thighs, straining for the pocket of my trousers where I’d stuffed with something that could help me, if only I could reach the damn thing. Blood rushed to my head as the tentacle around my middle flipped me upside down … driving me head-first to its many-toothed mouth.

Fuck. Seriously,fuck.I couldn’t reach a weapon, no amount of wriggling or fighting would loosen the slimy limb around my middle, and that hungry mouth was so close I saw moonlight reflect off the ridges on the roof of its mouth. Too close, too close—

I struggled, not caring if I pulled my shoulder out of place. A dislocated shoulder was far preferable to beingeaten.Cold steel finally brushed my fingertips and tears rushed to my eyes when I closed my fingers around the handle of the dagger. It was tiny, meant for throwing, no use at all against a god, but I felt better for having it in my hand. If I was going to die, I would die with a weapon in my hand.

Of course, I’d rather avoid dying altogether. I was a big fan of being alive, especially when that promised another night in Captain Hook’s bed. I wondered if we could break it next time. I wondered if—

Slimy acid splashed my arms, a low moan of pain in my throat as the tentacle whipped me into the monster’s waiting mouth. Not good. Very very not good. I lashed my little knife in all directions, trying to cause maximum damage, but it was like fighting a dragon with a toothpick. Acid hit me in all directions, caustic and painful. My skin turned red wherever it touched.

---