Page 15 of The Lost Child

Ok, the fun was over.

My new mission in life suddenly was to get away from the horny dragon man. I mean, it was understandable he’d be looking for a piece of ass to drive away the misery of his existence, but he wasn’t about to get my kibble and biscuits.

I ducked down low and rolled, escaped his grip, and tried to scramble away. He was quicker though, arms snatching me back up again, but this time he slammed me down to the floor and shamelessly went to town dry humping my back. The impact took the wind out of my lungs, and it took a few moments for me to recover.

Intrigue turned into fear fast. I flipped over and cocked back my fist, punching him in the nose for all I was worth.

Canavar whirled away from me snarling, and I bolted for the cage door, slamming it shut behind me. He roared his displeasure at me, but I wasn’t sticking around to see how far of a lead he had on his chains. I fled down the darkness of the tunnel, desperately racing toward the light.

Seven

Iran down the hall even though I knew it was foolish. Most injuries around here came from not being careful enough walking through the maze of nailed together ships and planks. The island only had one healer after all; a surly, aged man whose hands tended to get frisky when I was around. He kept a special vial of ‘magick potion’ that he claimed could heal anyone no matter the injury.

I doubted he actually had it; if it truly existed, it was something my father would keep for himself. I tried to avoid him at all costs, so I slowed my steps, not wanting to give him any excuse to come to my room later.

I tried to calm my racing heart. I wasn’t a blushing virgin, but that didn’t mean I was ready to roll around with a seven-foot-tall dragon man. I’d gotten a wide view (and feel) for what Canavar was packing and that drove my fear of him more than anything else. He’d break me like kindling.

Pressure built in my chest like it always did, but I gathered myself and pushed it away. Sometimes it overwhelmed me, but not today. I let out a breath as I felt it settle back into my body. I was usually manageable if I could convince it that we weren’t in any danger.

My father insisted I was a dud of a witch; but I knew there wassomethinginside of me.

That’s why I feared the pressure in my chest. I was convinced it was power of some kind, except I didn’t understand it. It wasn’t water. It wasn’t air, nor earth, or fire. Father told me there were only four kinds of witches. I must have something else: something unknown.

It terrified me.

I was delusional thinking I could talk to Canavar like a person. Like the other men said, he was a wild thing. And yet … he hadn’t bitten me. He hadn’t hurt me. If anything, he’d acted like an oversized dog, hungry and distrustful of the hand that fed it. And horny.

Which was understandable, I supposed.

I wandered aimlessly through the ships that made up our pirate’s den. The island itself was rocky and too hard to build on. Each mangled ship served its own function. One was for my father and me. Another was where everyone ate. The healer had his own ship. Each one was connected by the narrow gangplanks that haphazardly kept us all threaded together. Most of the men lived in the three ships in the middle, in little hanging hammocks in tight rows.

Lightly, I stepped through, barely needing to balance myself. I’d been running over these planks my entire life. The back end of the ships jutted over a cliff, the water rough and choppy. I didn’t turn around as I watched the waves come in, even as footsteps pounded behind me.

“Rissa! By the gods’ teeth you are hard to keep up with.” Jagger bent over, hands on his knees while he tried to catch his breath.

Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. “That won’t help. You need to keep your head up and stretch. How are your lungs supposed to get air if they’re all crunched?”

His eyes narrowed, but he stood up straight. “I heard you met the monster.”

I was getting tired of everyone calling him that. “What’s it to you?” I snarled.

Jagger simply waited, staring me down.

I groaned. “Not now, Jagger.” I dropped my head into my hands, massaging my scalp vigorously.

“Allow me,” he offered, flopping down next to men on the floor and pushing his thumbs against my temples. I groaned in relief, going boneless against him.

“I think you’re the only one who didn’t know about him,” Jagger continued, amusement coloring his voice.

I pushed him off and sat up abruptly. “And why is that? Why does everyone else know and I don’t?”

Jagger held his hands up in surrender. “Easy Rissa. We were both young when he got here. I’ve heard the other men talk. I guess it just … never came up around you.”

Bullshit.

“So everyone is just fine with the fact there’s a man being held down there as a prisoner?” I fired back.

Jagger ran his hands through his hair, his face twisting in confusion. “Compared to the other dozens of prisoners currently on the island? Yeah, I guess so. This one’s at least useful. That’s why he gets fed.”

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