Page 61 of The Lost Child

With a roar, claws burst through my nail beds, and my wings tore through the fabric of my shirt. I slashed out with one hand to give myself some space, then pumped my wings as hard as I could.

I didn’t lift at all. My legs were tangled in the crush of men, and hands reached out to grab my ankles as if I could lift them out of this death trap as well. I forced down a cry of pain as men bumped into my wings and pinched the sensitive membranes.

If I didn’t clear the way, I would be injured, and the old man would die. I’d never get my answers about who I was.

I had to be careful. I couldn’t just roar and fight like before. If I was loud, the master would find me. He’d order me to do his bidding and leave the man to his fate. I didn’t want to succumb to the blood curse again.

My grip on the man tightened, and he made an ‘oompf’ sound from under my arm. It was time I did what I needed to do for me, and not the master. If the man I held in my hands brought me here, then I had a past: a mother, maybe even a family.

This old man was proof I hadn’t been born a monster.

I kept my wings tight to my back as I slashed out in a wide circle with the hand that wasn’t holding onto my past, present, and possibly my future. Men ducked to avoid me, clearing a temporary path as they stumbled to get away.

My future was within my grasp. I just had to reach out and take it.

Nerissa.

Soldiers were eyeing me as the next target as the wiser pirates fell back, knowing not to fight me. The soldiers pressed forward, stepping over and on the bodies of fallen men on both sides. A large piece of wood hung down from the ceiling, leading up into the ship that made up the next floor above us.

“Hold to my neck,” I gruffly ordered the man, and his thin arms feebly wrapped themselves around my throat. I hoped he had the strength to hold on.

I unfurled my wings and jumped straight up into the air, flapping once to give me the height I needed. My claws dug deep into the wood as I held on.

“Get up there. Hide. I will come back.”

The old man tried to climb up my back and heave his frail body over the top. I had to let go of the wood with one arm, and give him a push to get him the whole way there. I grunted with effort, but his skinny legs disappeared up into the ship above me.

I glanced around at the fighting men, knowing I was expected to help. I glanced down the hallway to where I knew Nerissa was.

This was it: the moment of choice. Before, I’d thought there was nothing to my life beyond obey, kill, and eat. Nerissa had taught me there was so much more. She’d be kind to me. Why?

Because kindness was a choice.

That meant every time the master beat me and withheld food, he made a choice to be cruel. He made me into what he wanted, and didn’t care about my wellbeing. Not like Nerissa, who’d clucked her tongue over a scratch on my arm, or who’d stood over me with fear on her face as I’d retched my guts up all over myself.

I wanted to make choices, too.

And my first choice? I would go to Nerissa, and take her somewhere safe. Then I’d come back for the old man and learn my secrets. Then, I’d leave forever.

It was decided.

“Hide,” I growled again toward the ceiling and dropped into the seething mass of dying humanity below me. I picked out Nerissa’s scent and raced towards it.

Twenty-One

NERISSA

“Wedding’s off, Craw.”

I lifted my head in confusion as a burly redhead stormed into my father’s office, clad head to toe in daggers and leathers. His captain’s overcoat was as red as his hair, and his face was twisted in disgust. He would be one of the largest men I’d ever seen, not counting Canavar.

My father raised his head, but didn’t bother to rise for the other captain.

The blatant disrespect didn’t go unnoticed.

“The men are saying she’s a half-blood witch. You dare to sully my bloodline with such sorcery?” Macguire glared at me as if I was the one responsible for all his problems.

“She is my onlyblood,” my father growled back, his face full of thunder.

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