When Whitley winds up on the top of a pirate hit-list thanks to her con-artist father, she must hide her identity and board another pirate ship, trusting in one shape-shifting pirate named Bluff to help her escape. Too bad you can never, ever, trust...
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Bluff
I stand in the middle of the ship as we push off, undecided whether I want to be at the bow, watching the sea greet us, focused on the new adventure before me—or watching the city disappear.
I never said goodbye to her.
My stomach twists.
I'm such an idiot. The way she kissed him...
It was me, but she didn't know that. Couldn't have known. No, her fiancé comes to greet her and she doesn't even hesitate. She kissed him the way I wished she would kiss me. I loved it, and I hated it.
It killed me, but I couldn't stop.
So, so stupid.
I press my eyes together. To think, for even a second, that Whitely cared about me. That's the whole point of the prophecy—I'd fall in love with her, and she'd use me. Control me.
You're really letting her go? The wind wisps past my ear. Salty breath in my face.
"Yes." I answer without blinking.
A shimmering female form appears next to me, her webbed hands grasping the ships rail. I don't turn to face my mother, but I can still tell she's smiling.
"Why are you here?" I ask, arms folded over my chest. Fists clenched.
"I had to be sure it was true. The girl, your girl..." She lets out an animalistic purr.
"She's not mine." I say through gritted teeth.
My mother's smile grows wider. "Oh no, she is. You're just too stubborn to realize it. And that will be your down fall."
"Whitely is gone. Away from the sea and away from Simon. Protected by her privilege and rich fiancé."
Glistening green scaled fingers run down my forearm. "So niave," she whispers, her voice like the rush of the waves.
I pull my arm back to shake off her touch and then slam it into the railing. "Stop!" I shout. "Stop trying to make me doubt. Stop messing with me. Just because you lost."
She takes a step back, but doesn't stop smiling, exposing her sharp inhuman teeth. "What makes you think I've lost?"
"You can't get to her now."
"A siren can no longer reach her, this is true." Her figure begins to fade, until it drifts off into the vapors of the wind and my heart picks up it's beat.
"Wait," I say quickly. She gave up too easy, that's what's freaking me out. She wouldn't admit defeat. She'd tell me she'd have sentries stationed at the docks, waiting for her. She'd tell me she'd pay someone to throw her into the sea. She'd come up with some far-fetched way to reach her. Instead, she just left.
