Page 24 of Waves
It was a new sort of power for me. It didn’t hold the weight of death with a flick of the wrist. But the game of stealth was a little bit intoxicating.
No one had a clue I was here.
My sense of giddiness peaked as I strolled up the bridge, passing women with colorful sea anemones tucked into their hair and nodding respectfully at them. Trying to portray calm when I was anything but.
My tongue danced over my teeth, the only bit of frantic movement I allowed myself as I forced my legs to drag as if through mud. Slow. Steady. As if I was interested in the fissure forming in the glacier overhead and the men that rushed to repair it.
Soon.
This will all be over soon.
A strange pang of regret hit me at the realization that my game was almost up. That pretending would come to an end and predictability would take over.
But it had to be that way.
Had to.
That stupid rebounding wish would soften me otherwise.
I could already feel my heart aching.
The steady thrum inside my ribs missed the sight of her. Longed to make her smile. To drag my palm over her jawline and then fit my fingers around her throat.
I held that vision inside my mind for a moment. The golden-haired queen held within my grip. Her pulse was flying under my fingertips.
She might just let me—let Stavros—get that close to her. And it would be so easy to squeeze…
My imaginary fingers wouldn’t snap her neck.
My mind refused to picture it.
What the hell?
I stopped walking, ignoring the villagers around me as my eyes closed and I concentrated.
Muscles tensed, my own fist digging painfully into my thigh, my chest throbbed as I forced my fingers to clench. Tighter. Tighter. I finally managed to picture how her hands would come up to claw at my forearm. That alone was nearly too much. Nausea invaded my stomach and a panicked little sensation inside squealed.
Ignoring it, I took a deep breath and forced my mind to continue until I imagined it perfectly: the flatness in Avia’s lifeless eyes, the color drained from her cheeks, the limp way she'd float off when I released her, drifting toward the surface.
“Stavros!” A voice dragged me out of my thoughts, and I opened my eyes to realize that I was standing hunched on the side of the walkway, head curved down. I’d started to pant at some point and my chest was heaving. Straightening, I turned my head.
Valdez strode toward me, a wide grin across his face. “Had a little too much bubble, huh?” he smirked as he smacked me roughly on the back.
The urge to smash his nose until his nasal bone pierced his skull wasn’t easy to quash. But I did it as I rubbed at my breastbone, trying to soothe the bruised feeling there while I slid into a smooth stroll beside him. “Yeah, suppose so,” I allowedhumiliation to leak from my tone as if I was ashamed to have drunk too much.
Inside, however, all I felt was relief. The stupidity of wish-addled pain was nothing in comparison to the massive comfort of violence.
For a second, I’d been worried my murderous instincts had been overcome.
But it was just a blip.
Just a blot on the parchment.
One singular moment of weakness.
Nothing more.
Chapter 11
