We sat across from each other at the galley table. Neither of us spoke. She’d already signaled the other ship—with my guidance. I hadn’t even seen the thing, since walking out onto the deck would spell my certain death, and I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted that yet.

But that’s what we were here to discuss.

“I think it really is up to you, you know.” She said finally.

“What do you mean? Don’t you think that’s irresponsible? What happened to me getting you to let down your guard?” I demanded, mostly out of pure shock.

“I think we’re well beyond that now,” she mumbled. She was avoiding my gaze—had been, for a while now.

I folded my hands on the tabletop, and stared at them for a moment. “How do you figure it’s my choice, anyway? Isn’t it obvious what I ought to pick? Of course I should want to live.”

“Is it obvious?” she shot back. As she did, her eyes finally snapped toward me, critical and serious. “I mean, are you certain?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Think of what your life will be if you come with me. If I smuggle you aboard that ship—and I’m afraid I will do that, if you ask me to. I’m afraid I haven’t got the heart to deny you anymore.”

I stared at her, then said suddenly, “I didn’t think you smuggling me on board was even an option.”

“Well,” she blushed and looked away again. “It wasn’t. But I wasn’t sure about you before. And I am, now. Though it’s not without doubts. I feel like being on land might be torture for you,” She continued the line of thought, “I understand you’ve been able to restrain yourself and rely on beast’s blood around me, but would you be able to do the same for others?”

I didn’t know. It disturbed me that I didn’t know. “Do you think I can?”

She sighed. “You and I both know that if I answer that, I’ll be making your decision for you. And I told you I would not.”

So it was truly up to me—not only to decide whether I could manage my hunger, but whether or not it mattered if I couldn’t. I could see a future where I found a justification. A criminal, a lesser being whose blood I could drink without flinching. And yet, just the same, I could see a world where the blood of pigs, or sheep, or fowl satisfied me just as well and I never touched the stuff. Was it not worth trying? Was my life not worth living?

I had been told I was useless for so long. So had she. But despite all of this, were we not still worth something just by existing? Was I not allowed to at least try to exist? Could I not allow myself that?

I had asked her if she thought I could restrain myself but honestly, the fact that she even refused to answer me told me that she thought I could. If she truly thought I was incapable of restraint she would not have told me about the ship. She would have carried out our original plan, and left me to die alone.

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She cared about me, which told me I was worth caring about.

So I would let myself care.

“I want to come with you.” I said.

It took a moment for my words to register with her, and when they did, I watched a smile spring to her face that I had never seen before. It wasn’t the sly knowing smile from the night before, or even the sad smile I’d seen when she’d told me about the rescue. This smile was giddy—pure, relieved, and loving. She as much as threw herself across the table.

“Thank god,” she mumbled into the crook of my neck as I wrapped my arms around her one more time. “I didn’t want to say it, but I would have been devastated if you’d made me leave you. I don’t think I could have watched you die one more time.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Carmen

It had taken me no trouble at all to convince the good men of the Desire to allow me my precious cargo. They’d even carried it on board for me and let me walk with it all the way to the hold. I sat next to it now, and spoke aloud without fear. They’d left me alone. It was likely that they thought I was unwell from the sun and the sea and the loneliness. I was careful not to say anything that would prove them wrong.

“They say we aren’t far from land,” I said presently, leaning against the crate. “They say it should only be for a fortnight. I can hold out for another fortnight.”

I paused. There was a soft tap from the inside. One tap for yes, two for no. Simple, but effective. I was talking about myself, but he knew I was asking him—could he hold out for a fortnight? One tap. Yes.

“Once we get to land, I figure I’ll pick up where I left off. Look for my aunt who I was sent to live with. She has a farm. Should be plenty of animals.”

One tap. A reassurance.

“I think I will be okay,” I added.

One tap.

I tapped back, in the same spot. I liked to think that our hands were pressed together with only the slats of wood separating us. Perhaps I was naive to think that Cort would fare better than that other creature had. Perhaps I was naive to think he was completely different—that the other creature was greedy, and an animal, but Cort was not. Perhaps I had fallen for his tricks after all.

But if it was a trick, I would have died the night I asked him to kiss me. There was no reason to believe we would find ourselves here, rescued.

No, I was not naive. I had not fallen for tricks.

I had fallen, instead, for a man. A strange man, a wounded man, but one I went through hell with. Whatever was waiting for us on land, I hope it was good.

Because we deserved something good.