She didn’t have the energy to do anything but accept his help. She knew she should run, scream, call for help… But what good would it do? She was physically and mentally drained. Through the haze, a small part of her mind latched onto the muscular torso beneath his damp tunic, brushing against her side. She forced herself to look away.
“Morgen,” Lilac repeated wistfully, glancing back just in time to see three glimmering tails disappear into the water.
“That’s what I said.”
“I’ve never even heard of them. They’re not mentioned in any of the journals I’ve read.”
Garin scoffed. “Are you referring to the same journals that told you I’d be allergic to running water?”
Lilac thought back to the preventative bundle in her sack, which hung from Garin’s shoulder. “Are you allergic to anything?” she asked casually, just in case he was. In case she’d somehow gotten the opportunity to grab the bundle and…
And then what? Lilac bit her lip, suddenly peeved at how little she actually seemed to know, in the vast scheme of things and, despite her studies. And then… Throw it at him? Crush the garlic into tiny bits and blow it into his eyes? All options seemed foolish. If she tried, she’d never hear the end of it.
“What, pray tell, what would make you privy to that information?” He stifled a laugh as they shuffled slowly up the bank. “Most of those scribes were human men. The Morgen, as I understand, are an ancient species of water-bound Fae. They’re always female, thriving on their affinity for luring unwitting sailors to their doom. It’s their favorite pastime.”
Her surprise seemed to amuse Garin; she could hear his growing grin in the shadows as he patiently matched her measured stride.
“It seems to me no one has lived to tell the tale, or retained their sanity enough to document it well,” he continued.
“Are there many of them?”
He shrugged against her in response.
“Rumor has it, they’re from an island off the Quimper coast, though they’re sometimes spotted lounging on the shores of Brest. They don’t appear to anyone unless they are confident of their victory, and they don’t put up much of a fight… but in numbers, they’ve been known to overwhelm entire sailboats once the sailors are enamored enough to join them for a swim.”
He clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “I myself have only encountered them once, long ago, at the edge of the High Forest. I was disposing of a body in the river, closer to the town to make it seem like a drowning. As I was walking back, the Morgen swam up alongside me, using the floating corpse to lounge upon—”
“That’s quite enough,” Lilac burped, suddenly overwhelmed with a mixture of nausea and exhaustion. She didn’t need to hear the rest of his revolting tale to get the picture.
“You’re fortunate I was even there to see you pulled under.”
He leaned against her, gently urging her left and away from the riverbank as they gingerly made their way further into the trees. They walked for a moment in silence, no sound but the slow chirp of crickets serenading the night. Lilac trembled against the breeze and was mildly grateful for Garin’s assistance, despite his shocking lack of body heat.
He only spoke again when they were finally far enough away that the rush of the river had grown distant. “May I ask you a question?”
She blinked and gave a hesitant nod. She had a great many for him. “You may.”
“What did you mean, when you said I was no better than Sinclair? Right before you darted off like a madwoman.” He stuffed his free hand in his pocket. “Not that I care. Only curious.”
“Last night,” Lilac managed through her chattering teeth. “You… I had drinks with you.”
“Yes.”
She shuddered, remembering the night entirely, but also remembering doing and thinking things that had seemed alarmingly unlike her. She knew alcohol had a way of making people act upon their innermost desires, but she certainly hadn’t had enough to warrant her near-scandalous behavior. Suddenly realizing the implications of such a chain of events, she froze and wiggled out of his grasp to face him. “Did you do something, that thing you can do, to convince me to invite you into my room?”
Garin quickly smoothed his expression. “I did, I entranced you,” he said matter-of-factly. “Or at least, I tried. Maybe the wine made it easier.”
She’d half been suspecting it, but his admittance still shocked her. Welcome heat surged through her body, all the way up to her ears. How could he discuss it all so casually?
“That. That is how you’re like Sinclair,” she said, backing away. “You’re disgusting!”
But Garin’s face twisted into puzzled doubt. “I can assure you it wasn’t personal—”
“Entrancing me to sleep with you wasn’t personal?” Her hands and lips were quivering, no longer with cold but fury. She felt just as violated as she was confused.
At that, he took a long step back, finally processing her words. His eyes widened.
With her adrenaline from the Morgen incident finally fading, her gratitude towards him quickly faded into an inconsolable rage. She lunged forward to shove him and stumbled on a jagged stone protruding from the dirt. He caught her at the elbows before she could hit could the ground.
Garin set her on her feet and then bent so that their faces were level. “First of all,” he said, clasping both of her hands firmly between his. “I just saved you from a bunch of naked water demons who would have rejoiced in drowning you. Surely that must have garnered at least a tiny sliver of trust.”
His voice remained controlled, but his eyes were black as coals. His chest rose and fell in uneven waves.
Lilac glared back. Her short spurts of breath plumed in the cold air, while his weren’t visible in the slightest.
“Second,” he took a step back and she finally remembered to breathe deeply— “that is not what I entranced you for. I only did it so that you would think to invite me in.”
She scrutinized him unabashedly, somehow feeling her fury gave her strength, an upper hand, even over the monster before her.
He held her gaze unblinkingly. “I intended on biting you. I’m sorry—”
A hard laugh bubbled up. “You’re sorry for entrancing me, or sorry for trying to eat me?” Lilac fired.
He ignored her, rushing to explain. “My ability to entrance isn’t as strong as it once was. In fact, I was surprised it had worked at all; without warm blood in my system, my entrancement usually makes a person more agreeable at best.”
“How do I know you aren’t making that up?”
“When you tried to take your clothes off, I stopped you. In the moment, I thought I’d too easily convinced you to let me bite you. It eventually became obvious that wasn’t the case.”
Lilac glowered in his direction, unseeing. Instead, the memories of the night prior replayed in her mind, making her grimace. If the wretched vampire told the truth…
Her ears grew hot.
“It’s fine,” he added quickly at her mortified glare. “It was probably my entrancement gone awry, in addition to Meriam’s potent bathtub wine. Plus, the victims who are deeply entranced by us have no recollection of their actions after it’s worn off. So, the fact that you remember any of it is reassuring. Reassuring for you, that is.”