Chapter Three

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Gravel crunched beneath the weathered boots walking briskly down the old lane that led to the cliffs. Wind blew harshly in the dark night as twilight time faded to black. Regardless of the late hour, sea gulls were still cawing overhead.

The figure strode towards the edge of the cliff in silence. His hands opened and closed, his breath came in light gusts and his skin was crawling with the sickening sensation he had long grown used to in this form. The intense need to return to the water was always present, yet he had trained himself to ignore the driving force.

His father's necklace burned against his chest. It beat with the rhythm of his heart and the opaque white of the shell was already dulling back to black. His time as a human was ending.

Stopping short, Loris slipped the sketchpad out of his ragged coat and set it gently on the ground. He then promptly tore the hat off his head and tossed it over the cliffside. He shrugged out of the brown coat, and loosened the cravat about his neck. Reaching up, he untied the black ribbon keeping his hair back in a ponytail, and the white, silken strands blew about his face and shoulders. After removing the boots and rest, he gathered up the pile of filthy, human garments and tossed them over the ledge, watching them fall into the crushing waves below.

The idiotic drunk villager along the path to the Hallewell estate did not appear to have as much need for those rags as he had.
He had demanded them and the poor sod gave them up willingly. After taking one look at him, he had mumbled something along the lines of, "I knew that hag put a curse on me!"
He had done the wastrel a favor by cutting his life short and dumping his body into the woods next to the road.

Returning the girl to her estate had been simple enough, although entirely regrettable as it was not part of the plan...
What was meant to be an initial observation of the second, only living member of the Hallewell family, turned out to be something quite more unexpected.

The entire day had taken a very sharp turn once she had run straight into the ocean...

Loris bent down and picked up the girl's sketchpad from the ground. Eyeing it for a moment, he turned around, and stepped backward off the cliff in one clean movement. The world fell away in a rush of wind. The first contact with water slammed into him and he shuddered with the energy coursing throughout his entire body.
He was immediately in his true form and the fins on his arms extracted in glistening silver. His tail, silver and black, scaled up to his torso and the gills beneath his chest expanded to life.
Tucking the sketchpad under his chest, he swam away at a lightning speed.

Approaching the London docks, vessels of every size and proportion littered the foggy horizon. Ships in each docking port were surrounded by barrels, equipment, tarps and cargo. The fish mongers' stands nearby left a putrid aroma throughout the night air and the fog veiled a chilling mist over everything.

Loris snaked through the water silently, his tail gently moving to and fro as he glided past the rows of massive ships.
Sickness and death could easily be found within every shadowed corner of the docks, making the place feel like home to him.
He slipped his head out of the water, only rimming his eyes above the surface to look for his opening.

A few feet away, a sailor was slumped against a barrel on the ground, his feet dangling over the stone ledge of the port. His cap was spread over his face and his coat billowed gently in the breeze. A flask rested in his lap as he snored loudly.
It was all simply too easy here.

Loris approached him from underneath the water. Droplets streamed down his finned arm as he reached up and wrapped his cold fingers around the man's ankle. One quick tug and the sailor slipped into the water.

Moments later, Loris appeared on the dock, fully clothed, as he walked towards the largest ship in the harbor.
The Hallewell shipping crest was ominously etched onto the flag overhead.
He tugged the sailor's cap lower over his face and boarded the ship while men loaded barrels and crates all around him.

The sketchpad soaked through the inner pocket of his coat, but Loris ignored it as he began stacking barrels with the other ship's hands. A smile tugged at his lips as he thought of the girl he had dragged out of the riptide.

Victoria...

He had finally found her father's weakness. A simple death to Lord Edward Hallewell wasn't enough for Loris. He had started with his ships, his fortune, his entire company. Slowly chipping away at the Hallewell name until all the old man would have left was one sickly daughter...a daughter Loris had not even known about until he overheard a few of the ship mates gossiping about her condition.
Seeking to find out the truth, Loris left the docks to see for himself whether the girl was real or not.

The reality was too good to be true. There she was; such a frail, pitiful slip of a girl.
Loris had no need to kill her quite yet. It wasn't the right time. He would destroy the Hallewell Empire first, then deal with the girl. He wanted her to be the very last piece of the puzzle.

Until then, he was simply content with keeping his eye on her. He hadn't assumed she would try to kill herself the moment he did lay eyes on her though...
The moment the girl began running wildly into the sea, he was left momentarily taken aback. She had recklessly endangered her own life over a silly, little book.

Loris had watched her slip into the riptide, spinning out of control. It was almost laughable. He could have let her die, however there would have been no achievement by it. He wouldn't have even been the one to kill her. So, for the first time in his wretched life, Loris saved a human from impending death.

The sketchpad was a small price to pay...

His lips curved upward under the woolen cap as he continued to work.

Victoria Hallewell, you belong to me now.

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