Siren - Hazel Grace Page 0,14

as I thought I saw it.

“What do you want?” I repeat. “Because I’m not going to tell you anything.” She steps forward, which jolts me back a little.

Standing to have a better position on her, I watch her continue her trail toward me—a dangerous one.

One she should think twice about because if I have a mind to, my chains have enough slack to crush the little thing to death.

“You might want to keep your distance, Blood,” I warn. “It’s not a smart idea for you to get too close to me.”

She doesn’t listen.

The stupid little girl takes no heed in what the hell I just said as she traipses closer with her bare feet. Either brave or stupid, I’m going to take my opportunity if it presents itself.

A foot away, she halts, peering up at me with those stunning greens, and I can’t help but explore her face. Two freckles on the left and three on the right side of her high-boned cheeks, long eyelashes, and a button nose. Her plush lips are pink and impeccable.

And the fucking enemy.

“You don’t know how to speak?”

She blinks.

“I’m going to take that as a ‘yes’.”

She stares.

“I’m not going to say a thing about—you’re wasting your time.”

Another blink.

“This only works to my advantage, Blood. I’ve never killed a young woman before that wasn’t armed.”

With a sword or ax.

Davina has a whole other arsenal that I don’t know about, I’m sure, and unfortunately, I’m going to find out the hard fucking way.

My chains rattle as my hands quickly seize her neck, pressing the tips of my thumbs into her windpipe.

Yanking her toward me, I wait for widened eyes to fill with anguish, for her lips to part in shock, but she remains unfazed.

Unaffected.

Calm.

Until a surge of scorching heat burns the pads of my fingers, immediately getting me to release her. I fling myself back at the pain coursing through my hand.

I can smell the odor of burnt flesh, my instant need is cool water which, of course, there’s none near.

“The fuck,” I bellow, shaking my hand in the air to try and ease the discomfort.

Nothing—again.

Looking down at my fingers, they’re red but the skin is still there.

I jerk my eyes to her. “You magical piece of—” She perks a brow, ceasing my next words.

She understands everything.

She’s not stupid or ignorant. She’s as cunning and smart as the rest of them.

“This no talking shit works both ways, Blood,” I snap. She gives me a once-over, sizing me up, because to her right now I’m nothing.

I’m no threat.

I’m not a worry in her mind.

I’m a prisoner on her island, and I’m not getting out of here unless I tell her what I’ve come for. But I think she has a pretty damn good idea of what that certain something is.

“You can’t keep me here forever, sweetheart,” I sneer, jerking on the chains that still bind me to the floor. “You better make up your mind on what you’re going to do with me.”

I’m not built to be a prisoner of war nor will I stay one. She either kills me or lets me go. And if she does neither, I’ll take my chances and find my way out.

Davina abruptly turns on her heels and walks away. She and I are not done yet.

That’s all her expression said.

I shouldn’t be here alone, but I am—again. This time without one of my sisters. This time without a plan. And knowing deep down that this second visit is going to be as worthless as the last one.

I’m not scared of him, the Viking—Dagen the Blood Axe.

It’s just a name. Question is, how much truth lies behind it? How much blood has he spilled like my sisters state that Vikings do?

Besides his cocky, self-assured attitude, he’s just another human to me. I wouldn’t classify him with Tobias, but he does have that fearless and half-witted air about him.

Intrigued to know more, I found a book on them in my library. They’re known for their brute force and loyalty, allegedly fearless and large in stature. Known to mercilessly conquer cities and villages, killing anything in their path.

It was the chapter about taking over land that really alarmed me. And the more that it sunk in, the more the idea of sending him back out of the veil floating facedown seemed more favorable. His people could then pick up, whatever was left of him, after my sea creatures nibbled off him.

Sitting on the floor, the Viking’s knees are brought up to his chest,