I expected my neck to crack then.
Instead, he said, “Why? Why are we here?”
Erm, okay. “I can help with that. Pick any of the following options as a reason: You’re scum, a prick, a murdering piece of shit. Call it all one answer.” I struggled against his hold, still getting nowhere.
No response. He went still, holding me tightly in the briny sea air.
“Hello?” I said.
Nothing. He made no sound, only the gentle waves of East Ocean lapping at the edges of the exposed salt marshes around the island.
Minutes passed. He didn’t move, barely breathed.
“What’s happening?”
No answer.
He was taunting me. Playing some game with me.
Whatever.
As more minutes ticked by, I closed my eyes, losing myself in the march toward death. It was coming. When he’d finished pissing about, he’d break my neck or worse.
Pearl appeared in my mind, the two us outside on a spring day. Sitting in the back garden of the Cosgrove house, sheltering from the sun beneath Suzanne’s apple tree.
Man, those apples were the best.
She taught me a song called the ‘Melody of Little Maple’ that day. An old elvish song from way back in the day about a leaf on the wind, exploring the world. Happy to be free from the tree, no longer trapped. Only for it to all end in tears when the leaf withered and died alone.
Autumn. What a bitch.
The subject matter might be sad, but the melody was so pretty. I used to sing it all the time after Pearl introduced me to it, and I relied on it now to get me to sleep when grief ravaged me in the late night.
I started singing my favorite part of the song, ignoring the sad parts, wondering if my sister would hear it just before we reunited in the afterlife.
The world is mine!
Treasures so divine!
Out I go to wander and see!
Oh, how magnificent to be a leaf so full of glee!
Silvanus pushed me forward. I fell to my knees, bones giving the causeway a painful kiss.
“Fuck!” I barked, spinning with a sweeping kick.
Direct hit! The vampire king went down on his arse, his hands clasped to his head. He didn’t react to the fall. Instead, he hunched over, rocking, muttering to himself.
What the hell?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SILVANUS
White rose petals fell from the sky as the elf sang, his sweet voice a melody beyond compare. It was a balm for my ears, a joy to listen to.
Roses. Roses. Roses. The color of snow, smothering the ground in a floral blanket.
