Hunt on Dark Waters (Crimson Sails #1) Read Online Katee Robert

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Witches Tags Authors: Series: Crimson Sails Series by Katee Robert
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
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I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This place isn’t familiar. I’ve been to the village before, but I’ve never walked this path, never spent time in these woods. There’s no reason for me to be feeling like I could name every one of the array of blue flowers climbing a nearby tree trunk. They’re pretty. That’s all I need to know.

That’s all I do know.

“This is far enough.” I use my magic to rise to land on a well-hidden branch. It’s easily thicker around than I am, and it’s one of the smaller branches. I don’t even need to use my powers to balance as I crouch and survey the path below. Yes, this is a good spot. Now all that’s left to do is wait.

CHAPTER 10

Evelyn

ONE OF THE FIRST SPELLS I LEARNED ON MY OWN WAS the ability to quiet my steps and any noise of my passing. Combine that with the invisibility Bunny taught me, and I was very good at sneaking out as a teenager. These days, it makes me one hell of a thief.

Not that I capitalize on that … too often.

I wait in my cabin until the sounds of the crew moving about fade. And then I wait a little longer. My roommate appears to be dead to the world. That might even be literally, because I’m nearly certain they’re not breathing. It’s the sort of thing I got used to with Lizzie, but it still makes little shivers work their way down my spine. Living creatures are supposed to breathe.

I cast the spells and slip out of bed, careful to take my bag with me. Out in the hallway, there isn’t another soul in sight. As I climb the stairs and step out onto the deck, the rain engulfs me. It would’ve been nice to keep my dry spell going, but I can hold only so many spells active at a time. Right now, stealth is the name of the game.

I catch sight of Dia lounging next to the helm and have the most ridiculous urge to tell her goodbye. There’s no point. I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me. One conversation does not a friend make. I’m probably feeling sentimental because I miss Bunny, and while Dia is hardly a carbon copy of my grandmother, I think the two of them would’ve gotten along like a house on fire.

Grief rises in a wave so strong, it makes my knees buckle. I have to close my eyes and press my hands to my chest to still their shaking. As much as I hate this time of year, there’s a part of me that relishes it. Will I start forgetting her when the grief fades? The thought makes me sick to my stomach. Already there are bits and pieces that have disappeared into the depths of the past. The human mind was not meant to hold information indefinitely, and without her here to reinforce those pathways, I’ve forgotten the exact timbre of her laugh. Was it really just like mine, or has my mind tricked me into thinking that?

Now is not the time or place to focus on that.

I swallow down the tears threatening and head to the side of the ship. There’s no gangplank in place, which is nothing more than I expected. I swing myself over the railing. At least there are plenty of nooks and crannies to use to climb down to the water. I could probably jump, because the sounds of the wind and rain would cover up the splash, but it’s not worth the risk.

It’s a miserable, if short, swim to shore. By the time I stagger up the beach, I am quietly cursing Bowen’s name. If he had just let me go, none of this would be necessary. Yes, technically I may have drowned in the sea if he’d tossed me back overboard, but I’m not in the mood to be grateful.

I shove my wet hair from my face and survey what I can see of the island. It takes me far too long to understand that the reason I can’t see the village is because I’m looking in the wrong place. It’s not on the ground at all; it’s in the trees themselves.

At this point, I have to assume that everyone in Threshold is an enemy. I’m sure there are people here who don’t fuck with the Cŵn Annwn. There have to be. The problem is that I don’t know who they are, and I can’t risk being turned back over to Bowen and his crew. I highly doubt they’ll be sympathetic to my attempted escape. Entering the village is out of the question.

No, the better option is to stick to the shoreline …

Except even as I think that, I see the vicious-looking cliffs on the other side of the beach. Maybe I could scale them in good weather, but if I try to do it right now it’s a death wish. “Okay, inland it is.”


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