Mermaid Tear (The Fated #2)

Prologue

She wished he had died.

Every cell in her body urged her to draw closer to where he laid. Her eyes tracked the faint rise and fall of his chest as the images played through her mind. It would be so easy.

She would draw the blade strapped beneath her skirts. Then, she would approach him silently, fingers gripped around the cool metal with the same pressure he used on her throat. The blade would rise as she paused next to his head. With slow, methodical pleasure, she would find the right location to strike. It was important he couldn't call for help.

Finally, a swift slice. The arterial spray would stain her skin crimson. Pleasure would course through her body, despite the disgust the blood would summon. She wasn't so numb as to be able to coat herself with it and not feel something. Still, it would be worth it.

Everything would be over and she would be happy.

Her fingers trembled against the soft, lace trimmings of her black skirts. No one would miss him. Even the staff wanted him dead. She saw the way they watched him when his back was turned. Then there was the the warmth she received, versus the cool respect they gave him. They would accept it if she returned to the estate with a story of some hired-thug offing him in his sleep.

It was Nokos after all.

She sighed, raising her palms to her eyes. Dreams were nice and all, but reality was harsh and driving. It demanded her attention. She couldn't stand here lost in thought. There was too much opportunity to be found in his injuries.

Dropping her hands to her sides, she stepped back to eye the full-length mirror the inn had so generously provided. Unlike her last jaunt into the dark alleys, she had decided to dress like a true Eolian noble. Dark black fabric hugged her hips, and fell past her calves in the back. The skirt crept up in the front, becoming far more risque. How did women walk around like this? Her knees were exposed for fates' sake. Then there was the readily visible corset cinching her waist. Back home, this would be positively indecent.

She sighed and stepped away to don a red cloak. Regardless of her feelings on the style, the outfit was her only choice. If the man in the bed was to die, she needed to do this. Dressing as Eolian nobility would draw the right eyes. At least, that was her hope. The thought looped through her mind as a sort of encouragement as she tugged the hood up, then tucked her curled locks within the fabric.

Locking the door behind her, she left the room and started for the first floor. Tension slid from her shoulders as she walked through the inn's common area. Despite the regrettable, eye-catching shade of her cloak--it was the only color the shop had readily available in her size--she drew less attention than any other time she'd stepped foot outside their room.

Moonlight lit the abandoned streets. She hesitated in the inn doorway, her eyes skimming the darkness that coated the outside world.

Was this really a good idea? There was a near zero chance she would be rescued if this trip turned sour. Her luck wasn't so bright as to give her multiple breaks within such a short period of time. Her teeth worried her lip, fingers clenching her skirt.

Go. Just go. She urged herself. Things won't change like this. Not by standing still.

It took another minute, but she forced herself from the inn. The streets felt darker, more sinister the second the door clicked shut behind her. She shuddered, but continued walking. Nokos was harder to navigate at night, especially when working with vague directions. But, soon enough, she'd located the tagged store wall she'd been instructed to by a few hesitant locals, and therefore the alleyway that laid beyond it.