Dreadful Skin by Cherie Priest Read Free Book Online Page A

own boat make startling pops, cracks, and cries—just the settling of a ship with a few years on her. I knew how strange and frightening the unknown may seem. I knew not to panic.
    But how could I help myself? The cry went on and on—challenging the thunder, daring the sky to fall.
    I pressed my hands tighter around my head, but nothing could keep the hideous keening at bay.
    Then it came in—through the window. There was an explosion and the world caved in. The rain came in, and the howl came with it.
    I barely had time to see it, but time stretched for me and I remember every detail. I remember every second as if it happened over an hour—the stinging splash of water, the moaning wind, and the groan of a sagging timber support where the window had burst free of its place. I saw light glinting off of something shiny and round; it took me a moment to realize they were eyes. They were gold eyes, shot through with red and bulging from a face like none I’d ever seen.
    I remember there were teeth, and there was hair. I thought at first, “It must be a man, surely,” but before my mind could make the words I knew I was mistaken. No man, no ape. No thing I had ever seen before, nor heard legend of.
    It lunged at me, flinging water and broken glass from its hair. It opened its mouth and fired that horrible cry—a screaming, miserable thing that did not slow or cease until it fitted that gaping jaw around my neck, and it drowned its whistling scream in my throat.

VIII.
    Jack slipped out the way he’d come, leaving me and Sister Eileen waiting tense and alone together at the table. She handled his rudeness so well, and it made me glad of her sterling character even as the situation made me angry. There was much more to her than you might expect from a small lady in a habit, but isn’t that the way it always goes? Once every blue moon, and once in a royal flush—people will surprise you.
    He unnerved her, though—as he unnerved me. I couldn’t say how I knew he was nearby, and watching. When I called him out, I only meant to invite him in, but if he was going to behave so badly, it was just as well that he’d shown himself the door.
    So I could not understand why his leaving did not relieve me.
    Sister Eileen released a deep breath she’d been holding. “He’s mad,” she said, as if that explained everything. “Perfectly mad.”
    “That may be,” I agreed.
    “He’s dangerous, you know. Or don’t you think?”
    I don’t know why she added the last part, undoing her statement a little by asking for my opinion. I wondered why she felt the need to do that. “I do think he could be, as any madman might be a danger to himself and others.”
    “We are the only others here, Mr. Cooper.”
    I knew it then—how she already knew more than I did. I could see it in the way she wasn’t blinking, and in the way the muscles in her hands were taut like small ropes. She shifted in her chair as if she’d make herself more comfortable there, then changed her mind and rose to her feet.
    “I appreciate your chivalrous defense, but I think it would be best if you’ll let him be. Don’t antagonize him on my behalf, please. I do not trust him, and I think that—given precious little instigation—he would do you harm. He needs only the smallest excuse.”
    “I beg your pardon? My dear lady—”
    She interrupted me. “Something is wrong tonight. It’s the weather, I think. Isn’t it funny how it affects us sometimes?”
    “It’s very loud. The thunder is devilish, suddenly. But the captain has dropped anchor now and we’ll wait it out. The rain will clear and we’ll be on our way again soon. God knows there’s no frowning for the weather.”
    “God knows it, and so do I.”
    “What do you mean?” I asked, increasingly curious as she grew increasingly cryptic. “I wish you’d do me the favor of speaking directly, instead of these little riddles.”
    She pushed her chair aside to leave the table and waited, with