Page 47 of Angel's Flight

But how had she done it?How was she able to bring herself to strike him?To mark him with her mouth so forcefully that he was covered in red bruises today.They had been vivid against the scars on his pale skin, marks of other violence that Christine had added to because he had begged her for penance.She didn’t understand, and worse, she didn’t know why the thought of it – of her fearsome ghost kneeling or bound beneath her – made her insides quiver and warmth bloom between her thighs.Why did that power bring her peace?Last night she had slept untroubled by nightmares for the first time in weeks...

“Still getting your sea legs?”

Christine nearly fell out of her deck chair at the sound of Howard’s voice, barely saving herself from humiliation by gripping the handles as she looked up at her new friend.

“Didn’t mean to alarm you,” Howard said with a smirk that would have been irritating on anyone else.“Are you alright?”

“Not remotely,” Christine replied with a forced smile.“But life goes on.”

“It does.”Howard took the deck chair beside her and handed her a glass of something.

“I don’t think a drink will make me feel better,” Christine lamented.The beige color of the liquid didn’t look appealing.

“It’s mainly ginger.I have the stewards make it for me when I sail.Helps the seasickness.I could tell you were suffering earlier.”Howard gave an encouraging smile and Christine took a careful sip of the concoction.It was spicy and effervescent and settled her stomach immediately.

“Thank you.You didn’t have to,” Christine said before downing another draught.“You didn’t have to do any of this – or accompany us to London.”

“Of course I did.You’re the most fascinating people I’ve met in an age,” Howard replied with the wry humor he always seemed to exude.“Jack might murder me if I let you go, and one day, I hope you will tell me your full story.”

“You wouldn’t believe most of it.”Christine sighed.

“Oh, don’t be so sure.I’ve met many interesting people.Including myself!”

Christine chuckled.“You are quite charming.”

“I know,” Howard grinned.“Though, you have told your husband that you’re not my flavor, haven’t you?He seems the jealous type.Some men don’t like finding that out either.”

“I have, and Erik would never mind that.”Christine smiled, recalling Erik’s many adventures.“He likes your flavor as well as mine, if you understand me, but I shan’t be sharing him.”

“As I said: the most fascinating people I’ve met in ages,” Howard murmured.Christine took another sip of his potion, rather pleased with herself.“You’d be a sensation in London, you know, if you wanted to be.There’s a whole underbelly of the city full of fascinating people with unconventional stories and preferences.Your husband’s talent alone—”

“Would attract more attention than we need right now.”

“Perhaps,” Howard shrugged.“Anything is possible, I like to think.You two can decide who to be and what to do.What do you want your future to be?”

Christine’s nausea returned.She’d been asking herself that for months, trying to produce an answer that was more than ‘be with Erik wherever life took them’ because that wasn’t an answer at all.That wasn’t a life.

“I don’t know,” Christine confessed softly.“I spent my life training to be a singer.I achieved all my dreams faster than I ever could have hoped, but they didn’t make me happy.They made me miserable.”

“Dreams can be like that,” Howard replied, and he looked wistful.“I had plans that were made for me and that I made for myself, and all of them have either failed me or disappointed me since I finished my studies.So here I am now, assisting fugitives on the run from murderous spies.”

“We’re not fugitives,” Christine scowled.“At least, I don’t think so.”

“It delights me that you have to ask,” Howard grinned.“But back to my question.What do you want to do or be, if you can be anything?And don’t say happy.Everyone wants to be happy.I want specifics.What do you like to do?”

How dare he ask such a question in such a way that made Christine feel so unmoored.

“I like to...learn,” Christine offered uneasily, for it was true.“I like to play and sing, even if it’s not for a crowd.I used to like to help people when they were hurt.”

“That’s something!”Howard grinned.“Though, it sounds awfully messy and exhausting.I was hoping you’d say something like painting.I knew a few painters.”

“As if I’d even be able to converse,” Christine lamented.

“Well then, let’s focus on the first thing and get you another lesson in English.Right now.We won’t even have to go inside.”

Christine appreciated the distraction, as well as the lesson.English was easier for her than learning Italian, because it was so different, though parts of it were miserable, with its muddy vowels and nonsensical rules.At least she didn’t have to remember if a chair was male or female in that tongue.

She returned back to their cabin once the sun began to set and the sea breeze had picked up.Her stomach was still uneasy, and so were her nerves, but it still was a relief to enter the cabin where Erik waited, looking out to the sunset with a book open in his lap.

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