I bite my lip. “Very well.” I’m unsure if this is something I want. Or something that will actually help. I rummage through my mind to what memories are within my grasp and which aren’t. It doesn’t feel empty, there are bits and pieces. It just feels...thin.
“Knick. Tell me about Whitley when you were young.”
“I’m gonna need some of that rum if we’re going all the way back there.”
Rosemera smiles and hands him the bottle. He takes a long swig. “We met when I was... eleven? She was probably ten. She was spitfire of little thing. Unwieldy blonde hair. Cotton dresses that started out white and ended every day thick with mud. I had a crush on her that first year, I’ll admit. Never met a girl that...free before.”
I suck in a breath. I... remember that girl. A little. But she’s not me. Not anymore. Rosemera’s expression tells me she’s thinking the same thing. How did a wild little girl go from free and bold to the timid and proper creature they’re used to?
“But that changed the more time she spent with Jeb. He was less willing to get dirty. I mean, he played with us enough, he was just careful not to slide for base, unwilling to travel into the canals or go swimming in the river. Whitley never had those concerns, and she even pushed him to do more, for a while. Until that trend reversed. Soon she was the one unwilling to swim or get her shoes dirty.”
“So she got a boyfriend and cared more about what she looked like?” Rosemera asked, judgement seeping in her voice.
“Maybe. Not exactly. I’m unsure. She and Jeb were not yet courting, they were very young. I just noticed the change as she spent more time with him.”
Rosemera turns to me, and my mouth parts. “Is he the reason you changed?”
I swallow. “No. If anything, Jeb saved me.”
“From what?”
I close my eyes. The earlier memories are more intact than the rest, but even so there are holes. “I...don’t know,” I lie.
“Give us an example, then, Knick. Can you remember a time you found her behavior strange?”
“Sure. We’d talked for like an hour the day before about meeting and playing tag in the canal. It would be really cool because it was a place we didn’t go very often. A little scary but really exciting. A tunnel under the city? It would be such fun. Whitley was the most excited. She’d always wanted to go. Until that day, she showed up an hour later than usual. We were playing ball while we waited, but she showed up and she was less than excited. Her movements were slow. She still smiled big and bold and played ball with us. But when we brought up going to the canal, she all the sudden didn’t want to go. She ended up leaving after only an hour, with Jeb.”
I nod to myself, then reach for the rum and take a long drink. “Do you remember the bruise on my neck?” I say quietly.
Knick stares at me.
“There were others too.”
“From what?” Robert asks.
“Who.” Rosemera corrects him.
“My father.”
It’s quiet for a long while. Then Knick takes the rum from my hand and chugs.
“He was mad I’d soiled another dress the day before. Really, he was angry that one of his business acquaintances saw me so disheveled. He said it would hurt his reputation. He was getting tired of not being able to control me so he found another way.”
“Was that as isolated incident?” Rosemera asks.
“No,” I whisper. “One weekend, my father dressed me up and brought me to a brunch, where Jeb and his family also happened to be. They liked me. The adults. Said I was pretty. They liked my blonde hair and blue eyes. I remember the look in my father’s eye when Jeb’s father used the term ‘future bride.’”
“So you stopped being so ‘wild’ to avoid the beatings?” Rosemera says slowly.
I shrug. “To please my father. It wasn’t the pain I was afraid of. It was... his anger. His disappointment.”
Magic swirled in my chest, power stirring. I closed my eyes, feeling it shift. It tightened over my aching heart, as if it protect it. As if to tell me it could save me from these terrible memories.
I bit my lip, hoping this endeavor to save my memories wouldn’t have the opposite effect.
Bluff
Travel inland is quite inconvenient. Horse-drawn carriages only go so fast, only travel so many hours in a day. I find an inn for the night but know I’ve not made it nearly far enough. At this rate it’ll take me over a week to reach our rendezvous. They’ll have been there for days before I make it.
I consider simply buying a horse tomorrow— forget coach travel. I want to get there as quickly as possible, and I could walk faster than these coaches half the time. At least if I’m riding a horse I can travel at my own pace. It might not be as safe, especially with the mob still searching for me, but it’s certainly faster. I’ll simply take the form of a cowboy and ride through the open fields to my destination. That should shave off at least a day of my journey.
IN THE MORNING, I HAVE breakfast at the tavern connected to the inn. The room is dim and smells of smoke and ale. The conversation is light this time of day, until I hear an interesting tale two tables over.
“He’s in the area. Just keep an eye out,” one man says to another.
I look over my shoulder, as subtly as possible. There’s a gruff looking man with a beard, talking with a thin man with a mustache. “What’s he done?” the mustache man says.
“He’s a terrorist. Shootout in the middle of the New York market. Crashed a party and murdered an up-and-coming businessman. Even killed multiple homeless in a shelter. He’s a menace you do not want out.”
The mustached man swallows, fingering the rim of his hat. “Well then.”
“It’s imperative he’s brought in.”
I smirk, knowing full well this infamous man he’s searching for is me. I’m surprised to find I haven’t made it as far from their detection as I’d thought, but then, the mob’s reach does stretch far. Perhaps they’re out searching all the nearby towns.
Seeing as I’m in the form of a nondescript middle-aged man in a suit, he won’t be able to tell it’s me unless I give up the secret. Which I have no intention of doing, but I can’t help but be amused at his tale.
The gruff man stands, the chair squealing under him.
“I’ll certainly be on my guard.”
People may be less likely to trust a stranger, with this story going around, but otherwise the only thing it could achieve is to make me nervous and act differently. Which also means my horseback riding idea is out the window. I must act normally if I wish to remain undetected.
The bearded man approaches my table.
“Pardon me, sir. I’m searching for someone and wondered if you might have information.”
“I’m afraid I don’t. Your story sounded quite fantastic though. I wouldn’t mind hearing more about this dangerous fugitive. Tell me, what does he look like?”
The man fidgets. “I don’t have a description on me. But you’d know him if you saw him.”
I furrow my brow. “Would I?”
“You would.”
I tilt my head. “I suppose I must take your word for it, then.” I give an unbelieving expression. Because who in their right might would believe a word of that?
He pulls out the chair across from my table and sits, quite casually.
“Where are you headed?” he asks me.
“Charleston. My mother-in-law has requested assistance with a move. She acquired a new property that will need some work to be suitable.”
“I see. That sounds promising. Where is your wife?”
“At home with the children. The infant wasn’t fit for travel just yet.”
“Where is home?”
I narrow my eyes. He’s asking a lot of questions. Even the average person would have growing suspicions. “New York.” I say. “And you? You don’t look the authority type. What brings you out searching for a dangerous criminal?”
“Just doing my civic duty. I am also from New
York. I saw his attack on the market myself. He’s quite dangerous.”
“You must be very brave to go looking, cross country, for a man so dangerous.”
“Indeed.” He crosses his arms, unamused.
“What else do you have for me to look for?”
“Well, have you seen anything out of the ordinary? Someone acting strangely? He will certainly be a strange thing to behold.”
“Strange? Indeed?” I say, titling my head. “There is only one strange fellow I’ve met on my journey so far. And he’s sitting with me now.”
The man clenches his jaw, then stands.
You’ll get nothing from me, thank you very much.
Whitley
I spent the first half of the next day in the crow’s nest. The swift gusts of wind whip around me, curling and swirling around my body in ways that make me wonder if there is life in it.
I shiver at the thought, but truthfully, I like it. Despite the cold bite of the coming fall wind, the gentle cocoon is comforting. Perhaps, if there is some supernatural being behind the wind itself... well, perhaps he’s kind?
I shake my head. That’s the kind of thing old Whitley would think. Back when I believed there were truly good people who could love you unconditionally.
Everything is conditional.
The pirates had it right all along. Do whatever you must to protect yourself. Even if it means killing and stealing. No one else will take care of you. You must do it yourself.
A harsh wind pushes into me, and I stumble into the wooden railing. “Gee, thanks,” I say as I catch myself. It whips through my hair gently. My stomach rumbles, and I heave a sigh. I should head back down and face reality. I could use the strength food would give me.
I slide down the ladder with no fear, rope burning my palm until my feet plop into the ground.
Knick stares at me as I rub my hands together to rid myself of the unwelcome tingle. “What?” I ask, not at all in the mood for small talk.
“Oh, nothing. You’re just kind of badass is all.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I thought I was an abused little puppy.”
He smirks. “You were, for a little while. Looks like you outgrew it.”
My heart still aches, but it also swells with the tiniest bit of pride. I’m not sure the way I outgrew it was good. But the expression on his face tells me he’s impressed, so I’ll accept the compliment.
Up at the helm I find Rosemera, standing with her leg hitched comfortably as she eyes a compass. Not for the first time, I find myself wishing I was her. Confident and strong and beautiful. Without the whole world after me.
She shuts the compass as I approach. “I was wondering when you’d rejoin humanity.”
My stomach twists, unsure if she meant the comment as an insult or not. I take it as one.
“The past is never easy to face,” she says, misreading my expression. Although I suppose she did still peg the root of my bad mood.
I ignore the rest of it and get to the point. “I don’t think my childhood is the part of my life we should be focusing on if we’re trying to keep my memories fresh.”
“No?”
I walk over to the railing, watching the waves. It’s strange how I simultaneously enjoy and dread watching the water. But I suppose that’s true for several things in my life right now.
“The magic never seemed to touch that far back. I remember my time in New York about as clearly as anyone would that far in the past.”
She nods. “That’s good to know. It was an easy place to start, though, seeing as we have someone who witnessed it. We can move on from that, though. Do you remember much about your father’s dealings with the mob?”
I take in a long breath. We’re doing this already?
She smiles sympathetically. “Here,” she says, reaching to the ground for a bottle of more brown liquid. Man, do these pirates like their rum.
I take it and drink. When in Rome, right? “My father didn’t let on much about the mob. I had no idea Mr. Robinson... Well. He kept a lot from me. I knew he... lied a lot. But I was supposed to be the doting daughter. Wooing the rich high-society boys. Which was fine with me, because my best friend was one.”
“Best friend? Is that always how you saw him? He was your future husband, wasn’t he?”
I nod. “We both planned for that. Apparently, my father had other plans, but...”
“But did you have any feelings for this boy?”
I shake my head. “Marriage isn’t really about that, in my... well, that world. He was kind. He cared about me. He checked all the boxes of what my father wanted. That was all that really mattered.”
“And what about him? He didn’t mind losing the chance at a girl he could actually love?”
Footsteps pull me out of my thoughts. Robert walks up the steps to the helm with a smile. “There was no girl that could make Jeb happy.”
Rose’s hair swings as she whips her head to him. Her expression shifts, softening, a smile spreading across her lips just at the sight of Robert. It’s sweet, really. “What do you mean by that?” she says, eyebrows high.
I tilt my head, wondering the same. I forgot that Robert knew him. I hadn’t spent any time with Robert before leaving New York, so I’m unsure how far their relationship has progressed.
“Jeb needed to marry, so Whitley would do well enough, and he cared about her wellbeing so he fought for it. For her. He was good like that.”
“But what did he want?”
“Someone society wouldn’t let him have.”
Still, no idea what that means.
“He liked men?” Rosemera asks, an amused expression on her face.
My eyes grow wide as Robert nods. “How do you know that?” I ask.
“Because my cousin was one of his... close friends.”
I blink rapidly. Jeb is homosexual? Not that it really matters, but I find it shocking all the same, if only because—how did I not know?
Rosemera snickers. “Oh, this is good. I always wondered about that. Your society acts as if different appetites simply don’t exist, but I knew that couldn’t be true. They’re everywhere out in the real world.”
“Oh, they’re there. Just hidden,” Robert says.
“I’m sure. I can’t believe he’d be forced to marry regardless.” She shakes her head.
I blink. “Everywhere?” I know the question sounds stupid, but something about the way she said it piques my interest. Besides, I’m pleased the attention is off of me for the moment.
She turns to me, a glint in her eye and smiles. “Everywhere,” she says slowly.
I open my mouth but don’t speak. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
“It’s one of the reasons I understand Bluff’s draw to you.”
My heart stops beating as her meaning sinks in. “I...what?” I stammer. I thought I had her figured out. She liked Bluff as more than a friend but cared about him deeply enough to allow him happiness. Even help him. But—
Robert looks intrigued as well.
“Something about the innocence, I think,” she says, tilting her head as she examines me. “Mixed with a dash of danger and of course ridiculous beauty. It’s hard not to be drawn to you.”
My mouth hangs open so stupidly, but I can’t help it. Rosemera is telling me she...
She laughs at my expression. “Relax, it’s not a big thing.”
“I didn’t think it was,” I say quickly, “I just...” I shake my head, feeling so much more naive than I thought possible. Jeb wanted men, not women. And Rosemera loves Bluff and Robert, but is also attracted to me.
“Well,” Robert says, rocking back on his heels. “This has been a thoroughly enjoyable conversation.”
Rosemera giggles as he leans in and whispers something in her ear.
“We’ll chat again later.” Rose says to me as she walks away, hand in hand with Robert. Leaving me alone with my shock.
Bluff
The next morning, the gruff bloke watches as I
board my mundane carriage and casually ride off down the road—so achingly slow. I long to ride off, lightning-quick, into the distance on horseback. But no, I’m forced to take the slow route.
My leg bounces along with the uncomfortable carriage.
But if do anything out of the ordinary, they’ll catch on to me. I’m almost tempted to change my form now so that when I arrive in the next town, they won’t easily follow me. My concern with that is the driver. Was he planted? He could easily be one of them, and if I go into the carriage one person and out another... he’ll certainly notice. If I could be certain he isn’t a spy for the mob, I’d be confident he would just shake his head and assume he’d forgotten who his patron was in the six hours since he’d last seen him. But a mob plant? He’d have me surrounded before the morning.
Or, they’ll follow me all the way to Whitley. Either option is bad.
So, at least for now, I must play the part of the man I’ve chosen, long enough for them to question their suspicion and let their guard down. So the second they look away, I’ll switch and they won’t know who to follow.
At this rate, this will be the longest week of my life.
Whitley
We meet again at night in the tight captain’s quarters. Knick curls up on the bed with a mug he must have snagged from the stores below deck. He holds it to his chest like an excited child.
Rosemera smiles at him, holding the bottle up. “Someone came prepared.”
He nods quickly. “I’m excited for this part of the story. How did my little Whitley girl become a badass siren?” He bounces.
“Now, now, don’t get too ahead of yourself. We have a whole other part of the story to hit first. Pirate raid. Meeting me. The most important part, of course.” She winks.
“The loooove story,” Robert says in obvious mockery.
The smile falls from Rosemera’s face. “Yes. That’s perhaps the most important thing for her to remember, so we must rehash it in detail.”
Treacherous Love Page 2
