20“The merrow people?” Lena repeated his words as she lowered her mug from her lips.
Soren’s hesitant smile slowly vanished. His emerald gaze flickered away. Lena held her breath, acutely aware of the distance between herself and the door. Did he know what she was? If she ran, would he lurch after her? Stab her, or strangle the air from her lungs? Slurp the blood from her veins until she was nothing but an empty, hollow vessel?
A shiver of fear rolled over her spine. If she fled now, he’d suspect her for sure. She clenched her teeth and waited for Soren to speak.
“Yes,” he said at last, staring into his cup. “There are people who believe, Lena. Especially here. Sailors mostly. Most people . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Most people only tell stories of the merrows for fun.”
L
