Her tail was caught in the fisherman’s gill net.
Ezra looked back at Olaf, and by the light of the lantern could see him pulling on the net, hand over hand. He was drawing Syrenka— and Ezra’s boat— toward him. Syrenka thrashed to free her tail; water sprayed in every direction.
Ezra instinctively put his hands on Syrenka’s hands. Her skin was slick, fi rm, and pliable, and cooler than his own.
He shouted in Olaf ’s direction. “You bastard! Stop!” Her fi ngers were being pulled off the edge of the boat. He caught her forearms, but they slid through his hands until the fi ns on her wrists cut into his palms. He held on. He felt warm blood, and the sting of the salt water. He was being pulled so hard, the boat was tipping.
“Let go, Ezra,” Syrenka said.
Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading.
Monstrous Beauty (ARC)