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A muscle spasms near the corner of her mouth. “Then what are you doing here? ”

What am I doing here? I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the past year.

“You know how monotonous a long life can be,” I drone. “I’m bored, and her efforts are entertaining.”

“How predictable,” she snorts. “Unfortunately, Cordelia’s spell is binding, but there’s another way she can complete the deal.”

“What is it?”

She knows she’s caught my interest. “A vow of death, sealed in blood. She can kill the Duchess.”

My fingers twitch above my sword handle, itching to use this excuse. One wrong move and Darcy will be gone.

If her family tries something, I’ll handle all of them.

I can make that happen. That wouldn’t be a waste of my talents.

Cosette pushes away from me. “Before you get any ideas, you should know it has to be her. She’s the only one who can complete the spell.”

“I’ll let her know.” I stagger back to the porch and raise my arms. “If I can be bothered to remember in the morning.”

“Not everyone gets to walk away from my deals debt-free,” she calls as the gate to her white picket fence scrapes over the sand. “If I were you, I’d keep on walking.”

That’s what I do, hastening my stride into the village. My insides unspool as the colorful shops come into view, their violet and magenta hues breaking up the blank stretch of the white beach.

Still, the scent of decay lingers in my nostrils. I lift my open flask to my nose, the absinthe promising a few hours of sweet oblivion. I crave the kiss of the green fairy, that void in time where I’m allowed to stop caring.

“Here goes nothing,” I groan as I dump the flask out, a dark spot blotting the sand.

Tomorrow will be shit, but nothing can be worse than sobering up to a giant serpent or a hundred-foot fall off a cliff. No, the next time Cordelia summons me, I’ll be ready.

8

CORDELIA

Iworm my way across the bed, half-expecting Zephyr to be lying beside me. All of the pillows are cold and empty.

I blink my eyes open, remembering they left last night.

Their absence shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, but then again, I’m usually surrounded by their essence. Seeking them comes naturally.

The orange light of dawn creeps through my canopy, making it impossible to fall back asleep. I blow a stray strand away from my eyes and start unrolling myself, landing on the floor with a thump.

“Fuck me sideways,” I grunt, stealing one of Zephyr’s phrases for the occasion, even though they’re the one who put me in this position.

I carry myself over to the dresser, shrinking from my reflection. My eyes are puffy, and dark rings hang in the hollows beneath them.

I dip my fingers into a bowl of water sprinkled with sprigs of purple flowers and splash my face, noticing that my skin texture has changed.

Acknowledging a difference in my hair as well, I remove my nightgown to study the clothed sections of my human form. In the looking glass, I can see that the greenish-blue veins on my breasts are more prominent, and my heartbeat flickers visibly below my jawline.

I stand on the chair and push my hips forward, nearly toppling over to get a good look at the thatch of fur at the center of my pelvis. Flustered, I grab a handheld mirror and take it to the edge of the bed.

Fitting it between my legs, I slide my hand over my mound and discover two folds beneath the short, dark curls. A gentle buzzing stirs in my core as I stroke the soft, delicate skin there and splay myself open.

This part of me looks like it still belongs to the sea, pink and glossy like the exposed side of an oyster shell. I bite my lip and gingerly explore, running a fingertip along the narrow crevices and up to the pearl at the apex.

“Oh.” A zap runs through me like I’ve gotten too close to one of those eels that shock the water with currents of lightning-like energy.