Chapter Eleven

I swallow back the bile rising in my throat, fully realizing what this means. This ship can't dock in Nero and the cargo will no longer be safe on Freyja either. If Reign gets his hands on the items in those crates, all hope is lost.

I have to destroy this vessel and everyone on it. It's my only choice.

I shove the black haired girl forward and kick her away from me. The knife clatters from my hand and onto the deck. I don't need it anymore. I don't need anything anymore. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and focus.

"Don't just stand there, chain her!" the captain snaps. A few women rush over and latch onto my arms, but they all jolt their hands back with a whimper.

"What the hell..." one of them mutters as she rubs her palm.

Every loose hair on my body rises into the sky. Tiny molecules of electricity course through my veins and the atmosphere surrounding me charges with little bursts of white galvanic energy. The eccentric neon yellow tattoo on my sternum throbs underneath the thin black fabric of my tank top. I drop to my knees, pressing my palms into the waterlogged wood for support and grounding. The ship gently vibrates underneath me and everyone glances around in confusion. One by one, they back away with trepidation as my breaths become strained and quick.

I've never taken things this far before, but I know what I'm capable of. I have the capacity for total destruction on the open sea, and I intend to use it, even if it kills me.

On the starboard side of the ship, a woman gasps while shakily pointing her finger towards the sky. The greying clouds twirl about in an annular pattern as three distinct circles form a triangle around the ship. Lightning cracks through the center of each hole as they gradually dip downwards towards the ocean. Fingers of billowing mist touch the waves and tiny cyclones emerge, quickly increasing in diameter. With each passing second, they gain more traction, drawing the dense saltwater all the way up into the clouds. Electric pulses ripple through the massive, tightly wound cylinders of water, and each violent waterspout begins converging on the ship.

Capillaries in my eyes and nose rupture from the mental strain. My arms throb as sharp fin tips puncture through the skin on my forearms. The seams of my jeans tear apart as my legs forcefully adhere together and violet scales consume the lower half of my body. My feet fuse at the ankles and an opaque amethyst tailfin flops down onto the deck. A spiny dorsal fin tears its way through my flesh from my calves up to my lower back.

Whispers of disbelief and panic consume the ship. The wind violently picks up around this floating speck in the ocean and the three waterspouts triangulate in a rotating motion towards us. The captain snatches the rifle off the deck and drops to her knee.

"Hoist the damn sails!" she shouts.

Footsteps scramble around the deck as they try to save themselves from my wrath. Blood now spills from my eyes, nose, mouth and ears in a steady stream onto the planks beneath my palms. Trembling, I open my eyes to see the deteriorating world around me now stained red. I stare at the three chests in the crews' quarters through the spaces in between people's frantic legs. By now, the cyclones are so close they're ripping siding from the ship and cracking the masts at the center. Sound is sucked out of the atmosphere with the force of three freight trains and everything around me whirls in chaos.

This isn't exactly how I envisioned the end of my days would be. Part of me feels like this has all been a colossal waste of time. I spent two centuries guarding something that's about to disappear off the face of the map, and it was all for nothing. I sacrificed peace just to watch everything crash and burn by my own hand.

A piercing sting pinches my hip. I don't need to break focus to know it's a tranquilizer dart. This only makes me push harder. A frosted ring of pure energy surges from my chest, exploding outward and leveling everyone to the deck or flinging them overboard. I scream out in agony as I beacon the waterspouts towards us even faster.

Another bee sting bites my side. Then another, and another.

The bowsprit of the ship snaps in half and the rigging is ripped from the only mast still standing. A few women cling to the railings of the ship as turbulence concocted from a mixture of wind, waves and razor sharp blades of water try to wrench them from their positions.

Annihilation is inevitable.

On the fifth dart, my focus begins to wane. I crumble to my forearms and my fins caress the deck. I drag my fingertips across the slick planking. It's so smooth…so inviting. My cheek rests against the wooden pillow and I smile. I'm ready for this.

I'm ready to die again. Hopefully this time, it's for good.