I study it further, grateful to have something to focus on that isn’t what I’m running from—who I’m running from. I try to count them, but am instantly overwhelmed. “There are so many.” And each represents a realm just as large and diverse as the one I grew up in. The thought staggers me. I knew the universe was big enough to be unknowable, but the proof in front of me makes my head spin. “Wow.”
“You see,” Bowen says gently. “This is why I’m not concerned about a threat a single vampire poses. It’s no easy task to navigate Threshold, even if she were to somehow make it here.”
I’m not totally reassured, but maybe he has a point. “If you say so.”
“This is also why the C?n Annwn are necessary. This map represents the people who live in Threshold, yes, but it also represents lives beyond number. Allowing predators to use Threshold to slip in and out of other realms is out of the question.”
I don’t want to agree with him at all, even on this, but there are reasons we have some pretty horrific legends about monsters in my realm. And I’m not talking about the so-called monsters that are vampires or shifters or, yes, witches. I’m talking about the ones that destroy cities to get their preferred prey of choice. There’s a reason so many legends about dragons exist, and that quite a few of them have rumors of virgin sacrifices attached.
Not even the hunters in my realm would be able to take down a dragon.
Even so, it’s hard to blame a dragon for ensuring that it feeds itself when it’s been stranded in a strange realm. What is it supposed to do? Die? That’s ridiculous. Surely there’s an answer that doesn’t involve killing it. I don’t have one readily available, though, and I doubt Bowen will appreciate me questioning his beloved C?n Annwn further. He’s feeling sympathetic toward me now, and I’ll admit to being wowed by the map, so might as well try to foster some goodwill, right?
“So what’s your story?” Even as I ask the question, I tell myself I’m only doing it to get more information to leverage in my aim for freedom. It’s not because I’m actually curious. This pirate might be sexy in a kind of rugged way, but he’s rigid and unbending while I’m as fickle as the wind.
He’s also standing between me and my freedom, which makes him the enemy.
Again, he pauses so long I think he might not answer. Again, he surprises me by doing it anyway. “I was pulled out of the sea when I was thirteen. Right here, in fact.” He points to a spot on the map in the middle of the blue. “I have no memory of my life before then, and no idea how long I was actually in the water. I was in pretty bad shape when they found me. I’ve been on the Crimson Hag ever since.”
I stare at the spot. I don’t have any concept of actual scale, but it seems like it’s a very long way from any of the nearby islands. If the ship hadn’t happened to be in the area when he came through, he would have died. The thought makes my chest hurt. He was just a kid. “Seems like it happens a lot.”
“Like I said, not as much as you seem to think. But when people fall through portals that are glitching or otherwise interfered with, it randomizes their exit, which means they don’t always end up on dry land.”
“How many people die just because they drop into the water without a ship around?”
He hesitates. “There’s no way of having a proper number, but it can’t be that many.”
I don’t know if he’s saying that to make me feel better or make himself feel better. It doesn’t seem to work on either front. No wonder he’s such a stickin-the-mud. He has nothing to compare his current reality to, and even if he did, he’s been conditioned to see things a certain way since he was little more than a child. I’m sure all the realms are harsh in their own way—mine is no exception—but Threshold is particularly so. A flash of sympathy goes through me before I aggressively wrestle it down.
It doesn’t matter what this man has gone through. It doesn’t matter that I feel a strange sort of kinship. Neither of us has anyone. No, that’s not true. I might have lost the last of my family when Bunny died, but I have friends. A community.
And an enraged vampire ex who no doubt wants to rip every drop of blood from my body.
I shudder before I can catch myself. Bowen looks like he wants to reach out, but stops himself before he can do more than shift his hand an inch. “You have nothing to fear here. You’re one of us now. I said we’ll protect you and I meant it.”
It’s startling how badly part of me wants to believe him. To just … give in. Whether I have friends at home or not, I can admit I’ve been adrift for most of my adult life. Maybe some people turn eighteen and suddenly know what their purpose is, but mine has been elusive. The thought of joining someone else’s, especially when they promise to protect you and treat you like family, is more attractive than I want to admit.
It’s also a trap.
I want no part of a group that requires unquestioning obedience. I sure as fuck am not down with this vague mission statement about killing “monsters.” And I’ll never be okay with them forcing innocent people into their ranks under threat of death.
I aim for a charming smile, but I feel strained around the edges. “Like I said before, you don’t know Lizzie if you think there’s nothing to fear.” Easier to focus on the threat she represents than the longing inside me that I spend far too much time ignoring. It’s inconvenient that it decided to pop up its ugly head right now.
His brows draw together. Really, he’s almost adorable in his frustration. “What do I have to say for you to believe me? I will defend you with my life. I will kill any threat against one of my crew. You’re safe. I promise.”
I don’t know what to say to that. It’s both a horrific outcome and strangely comforting, all at the same time. Because the truth is that I don’t want Lizzie dead. Even if it means I will be safe. I care about her, vengeful vampire or no. Bunny always said I was too sentimental, and I can’t even pretend she’s wrong.
But that doesn’t mean that I’m suicidal … or a fool.
I clasp my hands and lower my head, letting my shoulders drop a little. The very picture of dejection and fear. I bet good money Bowen can’t read emotions or the energy around a person the way some paranormal folks can. Which is a relief, because while I can lie to myself enough to create a false emotion, it’s exhausting. Easier to lie with my body and words. “You don’t understand. But I do appreciate the fact that you’re willing to protect me. I know I’ve hardly been the easiest crew member to deal with.”
Bowen gives another of those sighs that sound like he’s carrying around the entire world on his broad shoulders. “No one is eager to join the C?n Annwn, Evelyn. You’re not the first one who’s had to go through an adjustment period. You won’t be the last. Just try to go easy on yourself … and on us.”
Not fucking likely.
I give him a trembling smile. “I’ll do my best.”
He’s still watching me as if I’m a snake that crawled into his bed, but there’s a softening around the edges of his harsh mouth that conveys I’m making progress. Battling someone tooth and nail is exhausting, and he would rather believe I’m a coward than continue to fight. Truly, I don’t know how he’s managed to stay captain of such an unruly bunch of pirates for so long if he’s this gullible. That said, I am not a fool. I can’t afford to assume I have him by the nose.