Shaw had met Root by accident. It had been dinnertime and Shaw's favorite meal was freshly-drowned sailor, so when she had seen a storm rolling in and a small fishing boat racing toward the harbor, she'd followed. Unlike the others, Shaw wasn't afraid to swim into the harbor and hunt humans near their home. She'd been doing it for decades and nothing had ever gone wrong.
Sometimes, she migrated with her school to another shore, but Shaw always found her way back to these freezing waters. This human town was always bright and loud and boats flowed in and out regularly. There was always good hunting. Often, a young one would get drunk on the shore and find themselves swept out, away from land. They were always easy pickings.
Shaw didn't care about watching the human lives unfold on shore. Some of the others kept track, but Shaw couldn't be bothered. She only paid attention when the air tasted like blood and she knew someone was going to die soon. The water sparkled with the possibility of death and made her scales ripple with excitement. That feeling had been overwhelming that night.
Shaw had followed the rickety fishing boat that held her prey from below, lazily drifting along. She could hear them yelling on deck, the sound sinking through the warped, wooden hull and echoing through the salty water. The fear would make the unlucky sailor taste better. The best meals were quaking with terror.
The sailors couldn't get their sail up in time and a strong gust of wind turned the whole ship over. Shaw had swum downwards to avoid the tangle of ropes and masts. She'd cleared it easily, but in her arrogance, she hadn't tracked the fall of the men. A sharp pain shot through her tail and she twisted around to see that a harpoon had speared her.
The dull brown of its handle mocked her as it stood stark against her inky, emerald scales. A rope like smoke-stained ivory led back to a shocked sailor's hands. Shaw bared her pointed teeth, sharp as sin, and reveled in the fear that filled the would-be killer's eyes. Around him, the three other members of his crew sank to the ocean's floor.
He yanked on the rope and Shaw's vision turned white with pain. She blamed her vulnerability on the fact that it had been so long since she'd been in pain, but whatever the reason, the sailor had managed to pull her further into the harbor, dangerously close to land. Then, his human weakness finally got the better of him and he had changed direction toward the surface.
As he breathed, the pain in Shaw's tail had receded and her mind had cleared. If she swam down and drowned the sailor, she'd still have his blade in her tail. She needed to convince him to pull it out. Letting the water flowing through her gills steady her, Shaw had watched him carefully from below. His weak kicks as he treaded water had told her that he was exhausted. Shaw was smaller than he was, incredibly small for one of her kind, but she was dense with muscle. Heavy, she had tired the sailor out. When he ducked his head back into the freezing, salty sea, she had closed her eyes.
She had planned to kiss him once he pulled her to shore and tie him to her forever. A mermaid's kiss created a bond; it was the promise of companionship. He would live underwater with her, still human in form. He would breathe the same water she did and gain her same long life. However, Shaw knew from experience that his death would not affect her and once he had pulled the harpoon from her tail, she would be free to kill and consume him.
The pain had resumed as he continued pulling her toward shore. As they neared the beach, a small section of sand that stretched beside the well-maintained harbor, the sound of the storm had reached Shaw's ears. It always beat heavily on the surface of the water and left the sand mottled and chaotic.
The human would be even more susceptible to her, disoriented by the storm. Finally, they had reached the beach and the human had dragged her to shore, grunting and groaning from her weight. Being pulled onto land by her tail like some trophy fish was undignified, but returning to her school's grotto with the harpoon in her tail, evidence of her carelessness, was worse.
A loud clap of thunder scared the human sailor and he dropped the rope. Shaw had pushed herself upright, examining the damage to her tail. Several of her effervescent scales were missing, lost to the water. She had bared her sharp teeth again before hiding them quickly. Terrifying the human further would do her no good now.
The wind had blown rain around her, chilling her bare skin. Her scales faded from her tail up her stomach, disappearing completely below her breasts. Her hands seemed human, too; other than razor sharp nails, they were skin, tough as leather, soft as silk. Out of water, her long hair hung limp, spilling over her shoulders.
The rumble of thunder had passed and the undrowned sailor had turned back to her, reaching into his shirt and pulling out a gun. Shaw had little experience with these new human weapons, but she had seen them rip through sails and send sprays of blood into the sea. Their iron-and-fire filled the air with the scent of death and blood and Shaw had bared her teeth, giving up her haphazard plan.
The human had barely raised his arm when the rain and sand turned red, the smell of rust and salt filling Shaw's senses and sending a shiver down her spine. The human man had dropped to his knees, the jagged shard of a conch jutting from his neck. Shaw licked her teeth hungrily as his eyes drained of life.
Behind him stood Root, though Shaw hadn't known her name yet. She looked like she could be one of Shaw's ilk. Her long, brown hair whipped around her in the storm, but she barely seemed to notice. The sailor's blood stained her face and clothing. It was men's clothing, similar to the sailor's, and Shaw couldn't help but wonder who this human woman was.
Root's hands had trembled then, and she finally seemed to feel the wet chill that saturated their world. Her unblinking eyes had widened as she took Shaw in, roaming over her with a crazed gleam. Even now, Shaw could remember thinking that Root's mouth might be filled with teeth as sharp as sin, too. It wasn't, Shaw had learned as she watched Root gasp, gulping in air.
Root had been so young then. Not in age, but in experience. She had run toward Shaw without fear and dropped to her knees in the damp, mottled sand beside Shaw's thick, bleeding tail. Muttering unintelligibly, Root had reached for the harpoon eagerly.
"No," Shaw had snapped, flicking her fins and ignoring the pain. "Go away."
Blinking for the first time since her appearance, Root had frowned, eyes darting between the wound and Shaw's face. "You want me to leave it in?"
Shaw had hesitated, torn between consuming this wild human and allowing her to remove the weapon. Sensing her confliction, Root had smiled, seeming young and unfrightened. Her hands found the harpoon, but she had waited for Shaw to make the next move.
Despite herself, Shaw had twisted her tail, giving Root space to push it through. She had and the pain had yanked a shout from Shaw's throat. The noise blew sand into the air, boiled the rain around them, but Root hadn't flinched. Her blood-stained hands had simply tossed the harpoon aside. Immediately, the wound began to close and the pain had disappeared.
Root had climbed to her feet. "Can you get back into the water by yourself?"
"Why aren't you scared?" Shaw had asked her, flicking her tail off the ground and slamming it back into the sand. Root hadn't even flicked at the resulting splash. "What are you?"
A small laugh had bubbled out of Root's lips, growing louder and louder until she was clutching her sides and cackling. Lightning had flashed in the clouds above them a second before thunder had boomed above them. The storm had picked up and the incoming tide had caressed Shaw's hands, trying to bring her back into the freezing water's embrace. The blood on Root's skin had only added to her beauty.
Shaw had forgotten the dead sailor that should have been her meal. She would have to make do with fish, but tomorrow she would find herself another sailor to drown. Root had gathered herself, pushing sopping wet hair from her face to grin down at Shaw. Her eyes had still been wild and she had been breathless when she spoke.
"I'm just a human," she had answered. "Not nearly as wonderful as you."
A shout had sounded down the beach, audible to only Shaw. Jerking her head around, she'd spotted the telltale shine of a pitchfork in the uneven light of a storm. They usually took longer to come after her, but when Root had followed her gaze, she'd understood.
"Hey," Root had said, looking off toward the approaching crowd, "where do you think we go when we die?"
"How should I know?" Shaw had replied, caught off guard. "I've never died."
"Yeah." Root had looked down at her, young and already tired. "Me neither."
Then, she had vanished into the night, racing down the beach, away from the docks. Following her lead, Shaw had slipped backwards into the water, flowing with the current, deep into the harbor. Instead of hurrying away, she had lurked, only her eyes above the surface, watching for Root.
She had watched for hours, and the men had eventually returned, but Root had not. She wouldn't for years. Shaw never had a close call like that again, and she continued to hunt in the harbor. Eventually, after the town began to notice its men going missing, her school had migrated south, and found another town with a harbor and loud, bright lights.
It was there that Shaw had met Root for the second time and learned her name. This woman had been different than the young, blood-covered girl that Shaw had met on the beach those years ago. This woman wore her hair up, and wore sheer blouses and heavy, woolen skirts. It had taken Shaw a few weeks to realize that they were one and the same.
She had noticed this new woman taking walks down the docks at night, rolling her sleeves up to her elbows, taking her shoes off, and sitting at the edge of a pier. Shaw had observed her, debated drowning and eating her. It wasn't until the woman took her hair down one night that Shaw had seen the resemblance. Root's skin had shone under the full moon and Shaw realized she'd kept an eye out for her all that time.
Shaw hadn't been able to resist getting closer to the girl-turned-woman. Slinking underwater, far below the surface where she couldn't be seen, she crossed the harbor water, surfacing beneath the pier, covered by impenetrable darkness. Root's feet dangled in front of her, the hem of her skirt brushing against her ankles.
What would she taste like? Shaw had wondered. Would her blood sing like the air before a death? Shaw had wrapped a strong hand around the dock's support beam, nails sinking through soft algae into rotting wood. Root had hummed something softly to herself and Shaw had found herself drawn out into the open, moving through support beams until she sat beside Root's legs.
Looking up at Root, Shaw had been struck by her eyes. The wildness was gone from them. Shaw still wasn't sure what had happened to Root in those missing years. Root would never speak of them. Back then, Shaw hadn't cared enough to ask. She'd been close to tearing Root's throat open with her teeth, before she'd even learned her name.
Shaw's tail had splashed in the water and Root had looked down at her. She'd gasped, jumping to her feet and sending her skirt swirling around her legs. A bang had sounded from the bright town and a man's voice had rung out toward the harbor.
"Caroline?" it had called "What's going on?"
"Nothing!" Caroline had yelled back, voice nervous. "I just- A fish jumped for my foot!"
The bang had echoed again and Shaw had recognized it for what it was - a window slamming shut. Above her, Root (though she was Caroline, then) had dropped to her knees, peering over the edge of the dock, hair stretching down for the water. Some life had returned to her eyes as her mouth dropped open in shock.
"You're real?" Root had whispered, her voice skittering along the surface of the water. "Really real?"
Shaw had snorted, angrily flickering her tail underwater. "Of course I'm real." Her arms had reached up to the dock, and she'd pulled herself up, forcing Root to scoot backwards and out of the way. She had folded her arms on the cool, damp wood, and tilted her head, admiring the way Root filled out this new wardrobe. "You looked better covered in blood," Shaw had said matter-of-factly. "How are you supposed to run in that heavy skirt?"
"I don't run anymore," Root had answered wistfully. "I'm… not who I used to be. But-" She had grinned, head shaking in disbelief. "But who are you? How? I thought- I thought that was a dream."
"You dream about killing men and saving women?" Shaw had joked, taking in the way Root's chest rose and fell with each breath. "I suppose there are worse dreams to have."
She had looked past Root, then, at the town that lined the harbor. The air around it had shimmered with death and set Shaw's teeth on edge. The evil had drifted up like smoke from a chimney. It was no place for someone like Root, and Shaw had understood how the wild energy had been drained from her. She wouldn't taste like anything after living in a town like this.
"Did you come for me?" Root had asked, voice thick with longing. Her fingers had dug into the salt-swollen wood beneath her, knuckles white from effort. "Are you here to take me away?"
Shaw hadn't fully realized what she meant then. She hadn't known Root and her details, the way her words meant more than they should. Still, she had given Caroline the right answer.
"Why would I?," she had responded with disinterest, lowering herself back into the water. "You're not worth anything to me. Not even good enough to eat. Before? Maybe. Now? No."
Caroline had climbed to her feet, face shadowed, and stared blankly down into the dark water and Shaw's reflective eyes. "You eat humans? Men?"
"Freshly-drowned is best, but still warm is fine." She had swum backwards slowly, convinced she had figured out the dead-eyed Caroline. Shaw had no need for humans who were neither dead nor alive. "Good night, Caroline."
"That's not my name."
Shaw had spent another hour or so in the harbor, swimming lazy circles in the depth and debating if it was worth it to swim all the way back to her school. There was a large rock beneath the pier that had a bed of algae below it. She had napped there on occasion while she waited for ships to come in or interesting humans to appear.
She'd almost decided to go home when heavy footfalls fell from the dock. An odd sound had followed the steps and Shaw rose to the surface to survey the night. Root had returned, and she had brought a friend along, limp in her arms. The odd sound had been his boots trailing along the pier as Root walked the body toward the edge where she and Shaw had spoken.
Looking over the water, Root's gaze had landed on the Shaw's eyes and she had grinned. Her face had reminded Shaw of the girl she'd met that first night. That girl had also given Shaw the gift of a dead man. Root had dropped the man onto the pier with a heavy thunk.
"I brought a gift," she'd screamed out into the harbor. Behind her, the windows in town began to light. Root had thrown out her arms in celebration. "My name is Root! Thank you for reminding me!"
Shaw had just lifted her head from the water and watched Root shove the dead human off the pier. That had been the first of many bodies she'd give Shaw over the years. It had also been the first of many nighttime talks they'd have. Though, it was the last one they'd have on land.
The next morning, Root had joined the crew of a trading ship that docked only to unload and reload cargo. Apparently, she had had enough knowledge about star charts and ledgers that the captain had taken her aboard as navigator and quartermaster on good faith alone. It was a decision he never came to regret.
When Root's new ship, and new life, had departed, Shaw had stared after it, safe in the harbor waters. It had been decades since she'd left her school to adventure on her own, and she could hear the deep sea calling to her. Surely her school would be fine without her? There were no predators on their migratory paths that posed any danger, and Shaw knew the patterns well enough to find them if she decided to come home.
Of course, it would also have been rude of her to inspire Root to set a course into the unknown and then leave her to fend for herself. Shaw had listened to her conversation with the captain. Any half-decent sailor would have recognized that she was lying through her teeth about her skill level. Shaw, however, had a preternatural ability to navigate by the sun and stars. She'd also spent ages listening to ships pass above her and could have been a quartermaster herself, if she'd been human.
She had followed Root's ship without saying goodbye to her school. They would have understood. Or not. That had no impact on her decisions. The sky had been clear that morning, pale blue stretching every direction, and a warm breeze had filled the sails of Root's ship, hurrying it along. Shaw had caught up easily enough.
When night had fallen and all the lights in the ship had been extinguished except for one, Shaw had surfaced. The still-lit window was large, definitely big enough for Shaw to climb through or perch on. She had moved her tail slowly, carefully, slinking forward toward the ship's hull. When she had reached it, she'd pressed her hands against the hard wooden planks.
The ship had been unfamiliar to Shaw, not one that entered that port frequently. It had been new and much larger than any of its type. She could tell that it would hold up in a storm. Digging her nails into the sturdy exterior, Shaw had hauled herself up out of the water. She had climbed the side of the ship with ease, her tail hanging below her.
When she reached the window, she had rapped sharp knuckles against the clear glass. After a moment, Root had appeared on the other side, brow furrowed in confusion. Looking down, her eyes had filled with light and her lips had spread into the wide grin that Shaw was coming to recognize. Root had quickly opened the window and taken Shaw's arms, helping her over the ledge.
"Hello!" Root had greeted, seemingly over her melancholy. She had waited until Shaw wrapped her tail around herself, settling onto the wide wooden bench set into the wall below the window. Once she was certain that Shaw was steady, Root had released her. "Did you follow me?"
Shaw had flicked a strand of thick black hair off her face and rested her elbows on the windowsill. "Don't flatter yourself."
Shrugging happily, Root had just stared at her, like she was something marvelous. The gaze had been too much for Shaw and she'd bared her sharp teeth in annoyance. It had only made Root gasp with excitement and press her hands to her chest.
"I've never met someone like you before," Root had sighed breathlessly. Running her eyes over Shaw's body, her gaze had lingered on Shaw's breasts, a soft pink filling her cheeks. Blinking, she continued her examination, blush deepening as she took in the length of Shaw's tail. "You're amazing."
"Stop that," Shaw had snapped, losing patience quickly. She'd forgotten how little she enjoyed talking to humans.
"Sorry." Walking away, Root had returned to her desk, looking down at the papers she'd left. "I have work to do anyway."
Then it had been Shaw's turn to look Root over. She'd returned to her men's clothing, legs covered by heavy canvas pants. A pale yellow shirt had covered her chest, the long, loose sleeves folded to her elbows. Shaw remembered admiring her delicate wrists and the way her long fingers picked up an eagle feather quill. Her hair had been tied up still, but on the ship, it was always a mess, just pulled back so it would stay out of her face.
The light in the room had come from a large candelabra on Root's desk and the light had made her skin glow with warmth. Shaw had wondered what that skin would feel like under her cold, wet hands. The thought had made her look away from Root, across the room to a small, unmade bed that was bolted into the floor. A broken conch sat beneath it.
"Where's this ship going, anyway?" Shaw had asked, startling Root.
Leaning a hip against the desk, Root had crossed her arms. "Does it matter? Away from there."
The hint of wildness that sharpened Root's words had teased Shaw's senses. Root's voice had tasted like blood, and it might have unnerved Shaw, if Shaw was ever unnerved. Shaw looked down at the swollen whirls of her fingerprints.
"Well," Shaw had started, "I hope the journey isn't too long, or you'll have to use those fake navigation skills."
Root had sputtered indignantly, glaring at Shaw. "They're not fake! What do you know?"
"Enough. Enough to teach you. Let's make a deal."
Shifting nervously, Root had dropped her arms, taking a step toward Shaw unthinkingly. "A deal?"
Shaw had looked up at Root through thick lashes, enjoying the way her brows lifted with anticipation. "I'll teach you how to do your new job… And you bring me humans."
"To eat?" Root had clarified. Shaw had nodded, sure that Root would turn her down. "Okay! You'll have to wait until the next port, though."
Caught by surprise, Shaw had flicked her tail and smacked the hard wood of the bench. The sound had echoed through Root's room, making her wince. "Fine."
Grinning, Root had swept a loose strand of hair from her face. "Can we start lessons tonight? Hey, what's your name?"
That night had begun their odd arrangement. The years had passed easily, filled with late night conversations and as many freshly killed sailors as Shaw wanted. Shaw couldn't remember much of those days because they just seemed to fade together. She remembered the way the candle light danced over Root's hair. She remembered how her pale skin had darkened under the sun. She remembered occasionally pulling Root through the window into the sea and swimming circles around her.
Shaw might have called them friends, but she didn't make friends with prey. That's what Root was after all. Just prey. Shaw remembered one night, several years into their arrangement, after Root had stopped needing lessons. Shaw had still climbed through her window every night, but instead of forcing Root to recite the names of stars, she would read the books Root brought her from land.
That night, Shaw had been reading a terrible romance novel. It had disappeared from her mind as soon as she'd finished it. Root had been cleaning her gun, the pieces spread on her desk, when she'd stopped and turned to Shaw.
"Will you kill me before I grow old?"
By then, Shaw could recognize the second question Root was asking. She'd begun to learn her details. "I might," she'd answered, avoiding the answer Root had really wanted. "Depends on how much you annoy me."
Shaking her head, Root had smiled fondly, fiddling absently with a small spring. "You know what I mean. I don't want to lose my wits." She had paused for a moment. "Or my hair."
It had been harder for Shaw to nod than she'd anticipated. "Of course. I'll eat you, too."
"Good," Root chuckled. "Don't let me go to waste."
They never spoke about it again. Shaw had done her best to remind herself that Root only had a short life. She would die some day, by Shaw's hand, and then she'd be gone. That night, Shaw had left Root's cabin earlier than usual and found a harbor to hunt in. She'd torn a sailor to bits, leaving no piece large enough to eat. It was a waste of food, but Shaw hadn't been hungry in a long time.
Another year had passed without incident. Root's ship continued its successful trading, traveling far and wide and never returning to the harbor Shaw and Root had left behind. Over time, Shaw had noticed that the way Root looked at her had changed. It still held wonder and wildness, but there was something heavier that Shaw couldn't name.
Shaw hadn't been able to define it until she'd climbed the side of the ship one night to find that Root wasn't at her desk. The air in the room was different, thick with something Shaw didn't recognize. It made her skin prickle pleasantly, tracing down her spine and rippling through her scales. Hesitating, Shaw had peered over the windowsill instead of climbing through. When her gaze landed on the bed, she had frozen.
Root had removed all her clothing, her skin glowing in flickering candlelight. Even though Shaw spent all of her time naked, it had seemed like a gift to see Root bare. For the first time, Shaw could see Root's long, lean legs, firm and strong after years of shipwork. Her breasts were small, tipped with pink instead of brown, like Shaw's. Her chest and neck were flushed red, and Shaw could almost taste the blood rushing through her body.
Root had groaned and Shaw had ducked down, knowing that she shouldn't be seen. Still, Shaw had always climbed through Root's window at the same time. It seemed impossible that she would lose track of herself. Had she done this on purpose? For Shaw to see?
Her legs had opened and Shaw watched with rapt attention as she moved her hands between them. It was something Shaw had never seen a human do alone, but she knew how they had sex. It had never particularly interested her, but she hadn't been able to tear her eyes away from Root. A soft growl had slipped from Root's parted lips and then she'd spoken Shaw's name.
The sound of it was all wildness, so sharp that Shaw had thought for a moment that she'd been cut. Root's body had tensed, her breathing had stopped, and the new smell had flooded Shaw's senses. She'd gasped too loudly and Root had bolted upright, eyes wide and bright as the moon. Shaw had dropped back into the sea, darting under the ship.
She had told herself that she wasn't hiding. It had gotten too warm above the surface and she had needed a dark place to cool off. Shaw had stayed away for a few nights after that. When she'd knocked at Root's window the next time, Root had opened it with an easy smile. That was another night they never spoke about.
Maybe they would have eventually, but two months later, they had sailed back into familiar waters. It had taken Shaw a moment to notice. She had been floating below the ship, sleepily moving her tail just enough to keep speed. A yell from the deck of the ship had caught her attention.
She had shifted, pressing her ear to the ship's hull. Root's voice drifted down through the boards, muffled by the thick, well-kept planks. Shaw hadn't been able to make out the words, but a second later, she'd been distracted by a familiar smell. The water around them had changed.
Shaw swam ahead of the ship, following the smell of salt and feel of freezing waters. They had returned to the harbor where she'd met Root for the first time, her school's preferred home. Root hadn't told her that this was where they were heading.
She wondered if her school would be in their grotto, or if they had stopped returning to this loud, bright town. Maybe it was an off year and they'd be somewhere else. Shaw wasn't sure if she wanted them to be in this grotto. If they were, would she spend this week with them and leave again with Root? Or would she stay and let Root leave without her?
Suddenly, the smell of death had filled the water, sinking into the depths below. Shaw's mouth had filled with the taste of blood and her tail rippled in warning. She had shot upwards toward the surface. Around her, the sun shone through clear, blue-green water. She was alone in the harbor.
Surfacing, Shaw had spun in place, looking around for Root's ship. Root's voice had shattered the quiet world like glass. She was begging the captain to turn around, find another harbor, let her stay at sea. Shaw had watched the deck of the ship as Root strained against the strong arms of another sailor that tried to hold her in place.
The smell of iron-and-fire had reached Shaw a second before the sound of a gunshot. The long-healed wound on her tail had sent a spark of pain through her, spurring her into action. She had flown through the water, only half-aware of the world around her. The dark cloud of blood that bloomed in front of her had held her full attention.
That's how Shaw had found herself in this position, holding Root's limp body in her arms, tail whipping through the water to keep them in place. Blood was leaving Root at an alarming rate, but Root smiled at Shaw, her neck straining as her lungs ran out of air. Shaw stared helplessly as the light faded from Root's eyes.
Root reached up weakly, running her fingers over Shaw's lips and then her neck. Shaw remembered her promise from a year ago, to kill Root herself. Nodding, she bared her teeth, sharp as sin, and opened her mouth, ready to tear Root's throat out like she'd dreamed of doing so, so long ago.
Instead, she found herself pressing their lips together, kissing Root for the first time in their life together. She didn't realize how much she'd wanted this until it was happening. Root tasted like blood and stardust.
Root's body began to jerk and Shaw released her, moving away. Muscles strained beneath Root's skin, and the sides of her neck split open, forming gills. She squeezed her eyes shut as they changed. When she opened them, her pupils were wide, taking up most of her iris.
She gasped, teeth sharp as sin flashing, and her lungs filled with water. Struggling against the feeling of drowning, Root reached for Shaw, fingers grasping in the freezing water. Shaw stayed out of reach, letting the change finish. Root's legs kicked through the water, frantically at first and then slowly. When she'd calmed, she gently felt her gills, looking at Shaw with her new, too-wide eyes.
Remembering her wound, Root's hands flew to her stomach. It was healed. She would always heal now, and she'd live as long as Shaw did. Thinking about the huge commitment she'd just made, Shaw rolled her eyes.
"Are you done panicking?" Shaw asked, crossing her arms. "You're fine."
Root opened her mouth cautiously. "Can I- Oh. I can talk underwater?"
"And breathe, and sleep, and eat, etc." Shaw shrugged, trying to gauge how Root felt about the new situation. "You're also immortal."
"Do I eat people?" Root cut her legs and arms through the water as she tried to get her bearings. "Can I cook them first?"
Shaw smiled at the question, amused despite herself. Root spun herself in a tight circle, the tie in her hair disappearing. Her long, brown hair floated around her and Shaw was pleased to know it would never be up again. Throwing herself backwards, Root swam in a circle, adapting to the new environment easily.
"You can eat whatever you want," Shaw answered. "Cooking is a waste of time."
Root stilled in front of Shaw, suddenly looking nervous. She moved closer and pulled Shaw's arms down. After a moment, she leaned forward and gently kissed Shaw. Shaw pressed forward, hands pushing into Root's hair. Pulling away, Root grinned, looking dangerous. It filled Shaw's stomach with warmth.
"Can you teach me to hunt?" Root brushed her hands down Shaw's stomach, feeling her scales for the first time. Even underwater, her hands were warm. "I… wish we weren't here, in this harbor, but if we are… I have some business that I'm suddenly in a position to finish."
Shaw raised an eyebrow as the smell of death filled the air again. "One day you're going to tell me what happened to you."
Root's eyes flashed and she shook her head. "No. Never. Non-negotiable."
"Fine." Shaw looked up toward the surface, watching as it began to ripple. The ship where Root had lived for years, that betrayed her, killed her, sailed over them. "Let's start your first lesson."