Chapter 2 Glass Cage
I was bouncing. That was my first realization. I was bouncing against something hard and unyielding as Lord Falkenstein carried me across the deck of his ship. My face was pressed into the wool of his coat, the fabric scratching my cheek. Every step he took was smooth, almost gliding, but the sheer velocity of his movement made my stomach lurch.
"Let me go!" I thrashed, my new legs flailing uselessly. I felt like a child in the grip of a giant.
He didn't even break stride. His arm was a steel band around my waist, keeping me pinned against him. I could feel the cold radiating off his chest through his silk shirt, a deep, unnatural chill that seeped into my skin. It wasn't the cold of the ocean depths; it was the cold of a crypt.
"Stop wiggling," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest against my ear. It sounded bored. "Unless you want me to drop you. It’s a forty-foot drop to the lower deck. I imagine your new legs aren't quite ready for the impact."
I froze. He was right. My legs felt like they were made of glass. Brittle, aching, and screaming with nerve pain from the transformation. The bones in my ankles were still fusing, sending sharp spikes of agony up my calves every time I moved.
He leaped.
My stomach dropped out of my body. We plummeted from the upper command deck to the main deck. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the shatter of bone.
He landed with the grace of a cat, his knees bending slightly to absorb the shock. He didn't stumble. He didn't grunt with effort. He just straightened up and kept walking.
He marched toward the helm, where a cluster of velvet cushions and navigation maps were strewn across a raised platform. He didn't set me down gently. He dropped me.
I gasped as I hit the cushions, the breath knocked out of me. The heavy military coat he’d draped over me slipped, exposing my bare shoulder to the biting wind. I scrambled backward, pulling the coat tighter, trying to cover my nakedness.
"You brute!" I hissed, glaring up at him. "Is this how you treat royalty?"
"You aren't royalty here," Klaus said, looking down at me. He began to unbutton his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves to reveal pale, corded forearms. "Here, you are cargo. Expensive, loud, troublesome cargo."
Around us, the ship was waking up.
The sailors I had enchanted were beginning to stir. The magic of my song was fading, leaving them disoriented and irritable. I watched as a man near the mast shook his head, spitting on the deck. He looked up, his eyes finding me.
The confusion in his face vanished, replaced instantly by a look I knew well.
Hunger.
His lips peeled back, revealing gums that were too red and teeth that were too long. A low, rattling growl started in his throat.
"Siren..." he rasped.
Another sailor turned. Then another. Within seconds, a dozen pairs of glowing red eyes were fixed on me. They didn't see a woman. They saw a walking vial of sunlight. Siren blood was the drug they all craved, the high that made them feel alive again.
They took a step forward. Then two. The circle tightened.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I tried to summon my voice, to sing a command, but my throat was raw and dry from the salt air. Nothing came out but a terrified squeak.
"Back!"
The word cracked through the air like a whip.
Klaus didn't shout it. He didn't need to. The authority in his tone was absolute, heavy enough to crush lungs.
The sailors flinched as if they’d been physically struck. They scrambled backward, tripping over ropes and crates to get away from him.
Klaus stood between them and me, his back to the crew. He didn't even look at them. He was looking at me, his expression unreadable.
"She is not food," he said, his voice dropping to a lethal quiet that carried across the wind. "She is a prisoner of the State. A direct acquisition of the Crown. And until we reach the Citadel..."
He paused, tilting his head slightly. The sapphire glow in his eyes intensified.
"She belongs to me."
A shiver went through me that had nothing to do with the cold. Belongs. The word tasted like iron.
"I belong to no one," I spat, finding a shred of my courage. I gripped the collar of his coat, pulling it up to my chin. "My father may have exiled me, but I am still the daughter of the tide."
"Your father isn't here," Klaus said. He stepped onto the platform, towering over me. He crouched down, invading my personal space until his face was inches from mine. "And the tide doesn't reach this high."
He reached out. I flinched, turning my face away, expecting a blow.
Instead, his fingers brushed a strand of wet hair away from my face. It was a shockingly intimate gesture, almost tender, if not for the dead look in his eyes.
"You're shivering," he noted. It wasn't sympathy. It was just data. "The transformation burns through calories at a fatal rate. If you don't eat soon, your body will start consuming its own muscle."
"I'd rather starve than eat whatever you have on this ship," I said through chattering teeth.
"We have rats," he offered dryly. "Or perhaps you'd prefer we bleed a cabin boy? I hear the vintage from the lower deck is... rustic."
I stared at him in horror. A small, dark smirk touched the corner of his mouth. He was mocking me.
"Captain! Oh, Captain!"
The screeching voice shattered the tension. I groaned internally. It sounded like a seagull being strangled.
The heavy oak doors of the captain's quarters banged open. A woman strutted out onto the deck, and she was... jarring.
In a world of black steel, grey fog, and dark leather, she was a blinding explosion of pink silk and gold jewelry. Her blonde hair was piled high in intricate, impossible curls, and her dress was so tight at the bodice I wondered if she even needed to breathe. Which, considering she was a vampire, she probably didn't.
She clicked across the deck in heels that looked like weapons, her hips swaying with exaggerated motion.
"Lady Vespera," Klaus said. He stood up slowly, the amusement vanishing from his face. His posture went rigid.
"Peri, darling!" she cooed, ignoring the crew. She walked right up to him and placed a manicured hand on his bicep, her red nails digging into his shirt. "I woke up and the ship was shaking! And then I heard singing! It was dreadful, like a dying whale."
She looked around, her nose wrinkling in distaste. Then, her gaze landed on me.
Her eyes, a pale, watery pink, widened. Then they narrowed into slits.
"What..." she pointed a shaking finger at me, "is that?"
"A prisoner," Klaus said shortly. He stepped back, dislodging her hand from his arm. "Vespera, go back inside."
"Why is it wet?" Vespera took a step closer to the platform, peering at me as if I were a stain on a rug. "And why is it wearing your coat?"
"Because she is naked, Vespera. Would you prefer I parade her around for the crew?"
Vespera’s lip curled. She looked from Klaus to me, and I saw the calculation in her eyes. She wasn't looking at a prisoner. She was looking at a rival. Even wet, smelling of brine, and huddled on the floor, I was a woman in Klaus's coat. And she hated it.
"She smells like low tide," Vespera sneered. She leaned in, sniffing the air. "Rotten kelp and fish guts. Disgusting. Peri, surely you aren't keeping it? Just drain her dry and toss the husk overboard. We don't need the extra weight."
Rage flared in my chest. I sat up straighter, my jaw clenching. "I can hear you, you powdered leech."
Vespera gasped. She looked at Klaus, scandalized. "It speaks! Peri, let me teach it some manners."
She raised her hand. I saw the glint of a heavy ruby ring on her finger. She was going to slap me.
I braced myself, preparing to catch her wrist and break it. I might be weak, but I was siren-born. We crushed crab shells with our bare hands.
But before I could move, Klaus was there.
He didn't grab her. He just stepped between us, a wall of black silence. Vespera’s hand hovered in the air, inches from his chest.
"Touch her," Klaus said softly.
The wind seemed to die down. The ship went silent. Even the ocean sounded like it was holding its breath.
"Touch her," he repeated, his voice devoid of any inflection, "and I will mount your head on the bow."
Vespera froze. Her face went pale, the rouge on her cheeks standing out like bruises. Her hand trembled in the air, then slowly dropped to her side.
"You... you would threaten me?" she whispered, her voice trembling with indignation and genuine fear. "Over a fish?"
"I am protecting an asset of the Emperor," Klaus said smoothly. He turned his back on her, dismissing her completely. He looked down at me, his eyes dark. "This creature is worth more than the entire cargo hold combined. If she is damaged, I pay the price. And I do not like paying prices."
He wasn't defending me. He was defending his wallet. His reputation.
Vespera stomped her foot, a childish, petulant sound. "Fine! Keep your pet! But don't expect me to share my quarters with it!"
She spun around and marched back toward the cabin, slamming the door so hard the glass in the porthole rattled.
Silence returned to the deck.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. My adrenaline was crashing, leaving me shaking violently. My teeth chattered loudly.
Klaus sighed. He looked exhausted. He reached down and scooped me up again, pulling me off the cushions.
"Where... where are we going?" I stammered, clinging to his shirt.
"To the brig," he said. "Or my cabin. Whichever smells less like mildew. I haven't decided."
He walked toward a different door, one reinforced with iron bands. He kicked it open with his boot.
Inside, it was warm. A lantern swung from the ceiling, casting long, dancing shadows against walls lined with books and weapons. There was a narrow bed in the corner, covered in grey furs.
He dumped me onto the bed. The furs were soft, impossibly soft. I sank into them, the warmth seeping into my frozen bones.
Klaus stood by the door, watching me. He crossed his arms over his chest.
"You have a sharp tongue," he observed. "It almost got you slapped."
"I would have broken her fingers," I muttered, pulling the furs up to my chin.
"Vespera is the niece of a Duke," Klaus said. "If you touch her, you lose a hand. If you kill her, you lose your head. Do you understand the hierarchy here, Nerissa?"
"I am a Princess," I said, lifting my chin. "I do not bow to dukes."
"You are a criminal," he corrected, his voice harsh. "You are a criminal with a price on your scales. You have no kingdom. You have no crown. You have nothing."
He walked over to the desk and picked up a heavy iron key. He looked at it for a moment, then looked at me.
"Until we reach land," he said, "I am your king. I am your god. And I am the only reason you are currently breathing air instead of water."
He walked out of the room.
"Wait!" I called out.
He paused, his hand on the door handle.
"Why?" I asked, the question burning my throat. "Why didn't you let them drain me? You said yourself... I'm just cargo."
He didn't turn around. I stared at his broad back, the tension in his shoulders.
"Because," he said quietly, "I hate the silence."
The door slammed shut. The lock clicked.
I was alone. I was warm. I was alive.
But as the ship lurched forward, carrying me further away from the only home I had ever known.