Bayou Moon - Andrews, Ilona [25]
“Sure I did. You were just about to rip that big bad fish to tiny pieces.” Cerise grabbed a willow with her left hand and leaned toward him. He gripped her fingers. She grunted and pulled him free.
Strong for a woman. And quick, too. That was one of the fastest strikes he’d ever seen.
Cerise was looking at him. “You look adorable.”
Black slimy mud stained his pants, filling the air with the scent of old rot. Great. And he didn’t even get to kill the fish.
“It’s peat,” she said. “It will wash right off. The eel won’t be back for a few minutes, so if you want to clean up, now is your chance.”
William pulled off his boots, emptying half a gallon of sludge onto the bank, and waded into the stream. The oily peat rolled off him in a slick wave, leaving no stains.
That was a hell of a sword thrust, fast, precise. Professional. The Mirror had no female agents in the Mire. Maybe she was Hand, one of Spider’s crew. William ran through Spider’s known flunkies in his mind, mentally comparing her to the women. No match. Either the Mirror had no information about her or they had neglected to share it.
William had a distinct urge to turn around, grab her, dunk her under the water, and wash all that dirt off her face, so he could see what she looked like.
He was a blueblood. He had to keep his cover.
William climbed out. The hobo queen greeted him with a huge smile. “So how are you enjoying your tour of the swamp so far?”
Smart-ass. He pulled on his boots. “Branded fish with legs weren’t in the guidebook. I want a refund.”
She blinked. “What do you mean, branded?”
“It had a skull etched between the eyes.”
“Did it glow red?”
“Yes.”
Her face dropped. She tilted her head to the sky. “That was rotten of you. I didn’t deserve that. I have more than enough to deal with, so how about you stop throwing rocks at my windows? If you don’t like the way I’m handling things, come down and try fixing this mess yourself.”
“Who are you taking to?”
“My grandparents.”
“In the sky?”
She faced him, her dark eyes full of indignation. “They’re dead. Where else would they be?”
William shrugged. Maybe it was one of the odd human things changelings didn’t understand. Or maybe she was just crazy. All Edgers were mad. He’d known that from the start. He was letting a crazy woman lead him deeper into the swamp. How could this not turn out well?
Gods, he missed his trailer. And his coffee. And dry socks.
Cerise strode to the overturned boat.
“What does the skull mean?”
“Never mind.”
He picked up the pole and stepped in front of her. “What does the skull mean?”
She flipped the boat over. “It’s Sect.”
He followed her. “And that means what?”
“The eel belongs to the Gospo Adir Sect. They’re necromancers. They alter eels and other things with magic and use them as watch dogs. The eels are vindictive as hell by nature, but this one is enhanced, which means it’s smart and it’s trained to hunt down trespassers. The damn thing will follow us around until we have to kill it, and if we do kill it, the Sect will want me to pay restitution for it.”
Cerise pushed the boat from the shore and threw their bags into it.
“So let me get it straight—the fish attacks us, but you have to compensate this Sect for it?”
Cerise heaved a sigh. “Look before you jump, Lord Bill. It’s a good rule. Learn it.”
Blueblood. Act like a blueblood. Bluebloods don’t growl at the hired help. “Wil-li-am. Do you want me to say it slower, so you can remember it?”
She clenched her teeth. “I hate dealing with the Sect. They aren’t reasonable. We’ll end up killing the stupid creature, and then Emel will eat a hole in my head over it.”
“Who’s Emel?”
“My cousin. The Red Necromancer. That’s why I will have to pay restitution. The eel knows me by scent. It wouldn’t have attacked me if I were on my own, so if you weren’t with me, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”
He would strangle her before this trip was over. “Should I just let the fish eat me next time?”
“It would certainly make things easier.”
William scraped the last of his patience