We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from This Fatal Kiss, a young adult romantasy novel by Alicia Jasinska, out from Peachtree Teen on September 24th.
Cursed to haunt the river running through the magical spa town where she drowned, Gisela is a water nymph who dreams of returning to the living world and the family she left behind. All it takes to regain her humanity is a kiss from a mortal… but everyone sees her as a monster.
And then there’s Kazik, the brooding, interfering, spirit-hunting grandson of a local witch. He’s determined to rid the world of unholy creatures like Gisela. After Kazik botches Gisela’s exorcism, she strikes up a deal. She won’t tell the other spirits that he’s losing his magic, if he agrees to play matchmaker and helps her get a kiss. But Gisela’s plan goes awry when Kazik also falls for the devilishly handsome young man that she sets her heart on—someone who could be linked to Gisela’s troubled past.
1
The Drowned Maiden
Gisela
“You’re sneaking off rather early today,” Wojciech called out. “It’s not even dusk yet.”
Gisela’s steps faltered. A wash of rainbow light poured through the Crystal Palace’s domed ceiling, rippling over the floor to shine a watery spotlight on the elegant figure making his way down a monumental flight of steps toward her.
For a brief disorientating second, Gisela thought she might be staring into a mirror. Wojciech’s green-black hair and hooded wine-red eyes could have been a reflection of her own. Only, his skin was darker, a warm clay brown next to her ghostly blue-green complexion. His lips were carmine, where hers were tinged violet. She usually preferred it when the water goblin took human form—his true form was honestly quite terrifying. But this new guise was just creepy.
“You’re looking awfully youthful, Grandfather. You’re not feeling self-conscious about your age again, are you? You can be honest with me. You’re only at least a thousand years old.”
Wojciech, who currently didn’t appear to be a day over twenty, pinned her with a flat, unimpressed look. A soft chime-like tinkling, the noise a spoon made when it tapped against a teacup, filled the air like a warning.
Gisela glanced over her shoulder at the giant pillar in the center of the palace atrium. The glittering monstrosity shot to the ceiling and was so wide around its base that even a half dozen water nymphs couldn’t have touched hands if they’d stretched their arms around it. A honeycomb of shelves cut into its surface, and on those shelves rested thousands and thousands of seemingly innocuous teacups upturned upon their saucers.
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This Fatal Kiss
“May I remind you, child,” Wojciech said, his voice low and melodic, “that growing old is an accomplishment. I’ve outlived civilizations, survived more than you could imagine.”
The ethereal tinkling increased in volume, the drowned souls he’d trapped inside each teacup pushing against the walls of their tiny porcelain prisons. Only the Sea Tsar himself was said to have a grander collection of human souls.
Wojciech reached the ground floor of the atrium. “If you’re going out, take Tamara with you. Don’t make me ask you twice.”
“What? Why?” Gisela whined.
A second figure appeared at the top of the stairs: a girl with soft chestnut-brown curls and anxious red eyes; her skin had the same ghostly pallor as Gisela’s.
The new girl.
Gisela’s gaze darted back to Wojciech, her eyebrows pinching together in a silent plea.
Wojciech’s smile was sharklike, full of unreasonably sharp teeth. Even in this handsome human form, he maintained a few monstrous traits. “This is Tamara’s first time celebrating Green Week with us. Show her where the humans leave their offerings. Get to know each other. I think the two of you might have a lot in common.”
Gisela doubted it. Saints, she didn’t want to be stuck playing nursemaid for somebody who was new to all this. Perhaps she shouldn’t have joked about Wojciech needing dentures—or maybe this was punishment for accidentally smashing one of his precious teacups and setting a soul free?
Or it was another one of his games. You never could tell.
Tamara came down the stairs and paused, shifting her weight from foot to foot, twisting her fingers in the ghost-white fabric of her flowy dress. She rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms as though she were anxious or cold. The air was always cooler down here in the depths of the river, in Wojciech’s realm, and strangely wet, as though you were constantly walking through a mist.
As a mortal child, Gisela’s favorite bedtime tales had been about the wodniki—the water goblins, the old river gods, the keepers of the drowned—who lived in grand underwater palaces carved from crystal and gold. Not that she’d ever admit as much to Wojciech.
You’ll know the water goblin by his dripping clothes, by the sodden squelching of his boots, and by the wet footprints he leaves behind, her Great-Aunt Zela had told her. If you ever visit the old country, darling, when you cross a river, you must carry breadcrumbs in your pocket and say a prayer so as to avoid meeting with him. He can drown you on dry land so long as he has even a spoonful of water.
Gisela’s skirt billowed about her knees, free from the bonds of gravity that governed the living world. It hadn’t been so very long ago that she’d been the new girl here, waking in a strange and unfamiliar place, in this palace built upon the riverbed. When Wojciech told her that her mortal life was over, that she’d never turn seventeen nor grow old nor see any of the people she loved ever again, she’d almost despaired.
She’d wanted so badly to go home.
She still wanted to go home, was determined to, which was why she didn’t have time for this.
“Can’t one of the drowners do it?” she asked, already knowing the answer. “Or Yulia. Can’t Yulia show her around? She’s good at that. I’m busy. I have things to do.” She shot Tamara an apologetic glance.
“Yulia’s already on the surface,” Wojciech said. “She snuck off earlier, muttering something about honey cake.”
Gisela cursed. Every spring during Green Week, the local townsfolk honored the rusałki—water nymphs, like her and Yulia and Tamara. They left shiny baubles and trinkets by the riverbanks, strung gifts from the branches of the trees in the forest: garlands of bright flowers, hair ribbons dyed eye-catching colors, and necklaces of glossy beads. They’d even leave offerings of food: eggs and sweet grain puddings, honey cakes and handfuls of sugary berries. They were bribes, prizes left out to placate hungry ghosts. People hoped that if they appeased the water nymphs, they wouldn’t bewitch and harm their loved ones.
Competition for such offerings was fierce. There were only so many treats to go around, and no matter how many years you spent haunting the deep, how accustomed you grew to the water goblin’s feasts of catfish and eel, you never quite forgot the taste of human food, of home.
If Yulia ate all the honey cake, Gisela was going to make sure she drowned in the river.
Again.
“Oh, and Gisela?” Wojciech drew a handkerchief from a pocket of his emerald-green suit and began polishing a teacup he’d selected from one of the pillar’s little nooks. “Make sure you tell Tamara what will happen to her if she strays too far from my river. I want to avoid trouble this week. Keep an eye out for our resident exorcist. He’s been overzealous in his duties lately. So overzealous, I can’t help but wonder if somebody has been provoking him.”
“Whoever could that be?” Gisela said, trying for innocence and not quite succeeding.
The teacups on the shelves rattled ominously. The sudden sharp glint in Wojciech’s eyes was a reminder of just who she was dealing with.
Maybe it was better to go along with what he wanted for now.
“Fine, fine. I’ll take her with me. But are you sure you don’t want her to stay behind and help you with the polishing? I mean,should you really be doing all the housework at your age?”
Wojciech’s lip twitched.
Gisela quickly grabbed Tamara by the wrist. “We’ll see you later, then! Don’t break a hip!”
Excerpt from This Fatal Kiss / Text copyright © 2024 by Alicia Jasinska. Reproduced with permission from Peachtree Publishing Company Inc. All rights reserved.
