Of the Blood

by Cameo Renae

  But there was a time when my father traveled through the Bogs alone, on business. When he returned, he had a swollen face, a fractured arm, and severely bruised ribs. My father was unable to work for weeks. Whoever beat him, also stole his money, wedding ring, and the pocket watch given to him by his father. After that, we never went near the Bogs again.

  Markus took the lead as we entered the heart of Crimson Cove.

  Sabine hooked her elbow in mine and leaned in. “These people scare me just as much as the ticks do.”

  Markus twisted his head to her and growled, revealing an elongated fang, making Sabine’s eyes widen.

  “Sorry. Except you two,” she murmured, averting our eyes. “You two are friends. I hope.”

  I nudged her with my elbow. “Me, for sure. Markus is still on probation.”

  He threw us a glare. “If you two want to make it out of here alive, I suggest you keep quiet.”

  A couple of men wearing seaman’s garb rounded a corner, drunk as hell. One held an amber bottle in his hand and raised it in the air as they neared us.

  “Cheers, my friends,” he hollered much too loudly.

  Markus tipped his head. “Good evening, gentlemen. Would you happen to know where I could find Captain Salloway?”

  The man holding the bottle shoved his partner and let out a boisterous laugh. “Did you hear that? He called us gentlemen.”

  The other man, not as drunk as the other and dressed in finer clothes replied, “As luck would have it, we’re on our way to see the good ole Capt’n Salloway now.” He waved for us to follow, then threw his arm around the other man’s shoulder as they stumbled past us. “Right this way.”

  I looked at Markus wide-eyed, but he pivoted and followed the drunken riffraff. Keeping my word to remain quiet, I pulled Sabine along with me.

  Ship. Ocean. Seasickness.

  I didn’t like being on the water. I’d heard one too many horrifying stories—mostly real—of what had happened to countless vessels that sailed on the Sangerian Sea. Storms, monsters, disappearances of ships, never to be seen again—no bodies, no wreckage . . . nothing. They said the sea was cursed, which is why when I was old enough, I never traveled with my parents to Merchant Port. Besides, water was an enemy to fire. Maybe I’d felt that all along.

  But it seemed fate had a sense of humor. For now, I would be traveling way beyond the safe area of Talbrinth, into the Sangerian Sea, with drunken sailors and a captain I didn’t know, to a distant island that lay in ruins.

  The only reason keeping me from ditching this plan was that I had to get out of Morbeth and away from Roehl. That, and the overpowering pull I had toward Incendia.

  We passed dozens of ships docked at the cove, each bobbing up and down as the waves lapped at their sides. Beyond the vessels was the sea—vast and daunting and beautiful as the moon’s silvery glow shimmered across its surface.

  The wind was gentle, carrying a briny aroma which was pleasant compared to the sewage smell that tainted the town. The sky overhead was crystal clear, making the stars shine brighter than ever. A lovely evening, aside from the voices of raucous men in nearby taverns.

  We proceeded to follow the two bumbling men, now singing loudly, clanking their drinks now and then, until they boarded a large ship. The name painted on the side was The Damned. As my eyes traveled upward, I spotted a flag at half-mast. It was black, with a half-skull sitting above two crossbones.

  Heavens above. This wasn’t a merchant ship. It was a pirate ship.

  “Markus,” I rumbled through gritted teeth. He ignored me, following the men onto the deck.

  Markus was broad and muscular and captain of the king’s guard. There was a reason why he was appointed for that position. Because he was the best at what he did. But even knowing that, the feeling of uneasiness had settled in my gut and wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. For the duration of our trip, we would be in the company of pirates, and I’d never heard anything good about pirates. They were drunken troublemakers known to rape and pillage with no regret. They were the Roehl’s of the sea.

  “Calla, I don’t think we should be here,” Sabine whispered, tugging on my arm.

  “No, we shouldn’t,” I breathed. “Just keep your head down and stay close to Markus and me. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  Markus tilted his head to us as if he agreed. A subtle yet reassuring movement that must have worked because Sabine’s vise grip somewhat relaxed.

  I pulled my hood down even further, obscuring my entire face. I wondered how many of The Damned’s crew were still out partying in the taverns and how many had already staggered back to the ship.

  “The capt’n is through dem doors,” the drunkest sailor spat, his finger aimed in a different direction than his bloodshot eyes.

  “Thank you,” Markus said, his head giving a sharp whip for us to follow.

  We walked down a narrow hallway and halted in front of a door marked with a large red X.

  I elbowed Sabine and whispered, “Do you think there’s treasure hidden inside?”

  She giggled but stopped when Markus turned back and gave me a narrowed glare.

  As Markus knocked thrice on the door, I could hear Sabine’s heart hammering inside her chest. I took hold of her hand and squeezed, hoping to reassure her.

  “Enter!” a voice beckoned from beyond the door.

  Markus pushed the door open and stepped inside. We followed closely behind.

  “Captain Salloway?” Markus asked.

  “Yep,” the man replied, his back turned toward us.

  The man spun in his chair, and hazel cataract eyes glared at each one of us. Captain Salloway was old and wrinkly, with a mustache that connected to a long white beard. In one hand he held a pipe, and in the other, a glass of amber liquor. He took a good look at Markus and said, “Looks like the dogs brought in a few ticks.”

  “Father!” a younger voice chided. A young man stepped out from an adjacent room. “Please forgive him. My father is old and has misplaced his manners some time ago.” He held his hand out to Markus. “I am the present Captain Salloway, but please, call me Sebastian.” He had a slight accent. An accent befitting of a pirate.

  “Sebastian Salloway. Serpent of the Seas,” the old man blurted.

  “Father, why don’t you roam the deck and see who’s returned. We've but a few hours before we set sail.”

  The old man set his drained glass on the desk, then slowly pushed off his wooden chair and patted Sebastian on the cheek. “As you wish, sonny.”

  The captain sighed. He was tall and handsome with sea-blue eyes and shoulder-length, light-brown hair—tousled like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. His skin was sun-kissed, likely from spending long days on deck. His clothes were made of fine fabrics—a white collared shirt under a black waistcoat with burnished brass buttons. On his legs were fitted black trousers and long brown boots which matched a knee length leather coat. Around his waist, a glimmer revealed the golden hilt of a sword.

  Sabine and I lowered our hoods. The captain didn’t seem like a threat.

  “What brings you to Morbeth’s pig sty?” The captain chuckled, clutching a glass and a half bottle supplied with gin. His eyes narrowed on me, making me suddenly feel flustered.

  Markus took a step forward and withdrew a pouch from his pocket, causing the gold skrag to clink inside. “King Romulus sent us. He instructed us to seek you out for help.”

  “The king?” Captain Salloway’s eyes expanded. “I thought he was—”

  “He was placed under a dark spell by his son Roehl,” I blurted. “But the spell has been broken.”

  His brow rose even higher, but his eyes were suspicious. I continued, despite Markus’s glare. “He wanted us to tell you that he should have believed the story you told him at the Mermaid’s Tavern.”

  The captain paused, then a broad smile adorned his full lips. “Aye. He should have.” He backed up to the desk and leaned against it. I wondered if he was going
to tell us what he said, but he didn’t.

  “I haven’t seen King Romulus in some years. We had our days in the sun.” His eyes went distant as if he were rewinding to the past. Then his eyes caught Markus’s. “How is the king?”

  “He’s seen better days, but he’s on the mend.”

  “Ahh, yes. The benefits of immortality,” Sebastian said with a roguish smirk.

  “Are you immortal?” I inquired.

  Captain Salloway gave a dimpled grin. “I, love, am one hundred percent human, with a real ticker.” He tapped his chest. “However, a few years back, while in a drunken stupor, I asked the king to sire me.”

  “You did?” Sabine gasped.

  “I did,” he responded, shaking his head, draining the glass of gin he’d just poured. “Thank the gods he was in his right mind and refused. He’s a decent fellow, despite what people think, and I have yet to discover this Monster of Morbeth they keep referring to him as.”

  “Have you met Roehl?” I asked.

  Sebastian belly laughed. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the prince but have learned of his father’s many concerns regarding him.” His eyes narrowed on each of us, then paused on me. “Which makes me wonder why the king sent you to me, along with his personal guard.” His eyes then darted between Sabine and me before speaking ever so slowly. “Who are you?”

  Sabine stepped out from behind me. “I’m not the one he sent. It’s her,” she said, pointing to me. Sebastian’s eyes widened and met mine. “She is the king’s great-granddaughter, and if we don’t get her out of Morbeth soon, Prince Roehl is going to kill her.”

  “Now why would the prince want to kill you?” he asked, those sea-blue eyes piercing straight through me.

  “It’s complicated,” I replied with a shrug.

  He inclined his head slightly. “Well, I’m a very complicated fellow, and before I decide to save you, I’d like to know why.”

  Markus glanced at me and gave me a nod. So, I gave the captain the short, undetailed version of my story. I didn’t know or trust him enough to share everything. I wanted to get the hell out of Morbeth.

  “You are not merely a vampire, but an Incendian Royal?” Sebastian questioned. His eyes were boring into mine.

  He wanted confirmation.

  I raised my right hand, palm facing upward. A bluish-orange flame danced above it.

  “Pirates be damned,” Sebastian exhaled, his eyes entranced on the flame. I curled my fingers into a fist, instantly extinguishing it.

  “I need to get to Incendia,” I said. “Can you take us there?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “Although, the island is a bit off our scheduled course. We will need to acquire further supplies for the extra week’s journey.”

  Swindler.

  Markus reached in his pouch and withdrew another sack of gold skrag, then tossed the two bags toward Sebastian. The pirate caught both quickly, opened each one and peeked inside. Satisfied, he sealed and tucked the sacks into his pocket.

  We still had four bags left unless we were swindled out of it. But I knew Markus wouldn’t let the remaining skrag leave his side. Not when our future depended on it.

  “That’ll do,” Sebastian said, hopping off the desk. “We shall set sail shortly to the Isle of Incendia.”

  “Thank you,” Markus said with a bend of his head.

  “My pleasure. I have one cabin to spare, so you’ll have to share,” he said. “It’ll be cramped quarters with three of you, but—”

  “We’ll take it,” I said quickly.

  I could almost read Markus’s mind as he gave me another of his familiar glares. The amount of skrag we’d given, we should have had the captain’s cabin. But I wasn’t about to strike a deal with a pirate. And by his silence, Markus wasn’t either.

  I just wanted to go to the room as quickly as possible and become invisible again. To lie low until we reached Incendia. Exhaustion had settled heavily in my bones, and I was glad when the captain was about to lead us to our room.

  “Oh, captain,” a woman’s voice sang from behind the door he’d first exited. “I’m ready to walk the plank.” The door swung open, and a half-naked girl stood there, draped in a white bedsheet, wearing a patch over her right eye, leaving not much to the imagination.

  I bit back a laugh and lowered my head.

  “Pardon me for a moment,” Sebastian murmured, holding up a finger to us. He pivoted and strode toward the door, blocking the woman.

  Clearing his throat, he spoke to her in a commanding tone. “I’m attending to business, woman. Please gather your things and disembark my ship promptly. I am no longer in need of your services.”

  “What?” The woman’s voice turned ferocious. “How dare you? I will make sure you—”

  “Enough! Show some decency.” He pushed the door shut and swiveled back to us. “I apologize,” he said, placing a hand over his heart.

  “It’s fine,” I whispered, and he gave another dimpled grin.

  Trouble. The captain was trouble.

  “We’ll set sail in a few hours. While you can roam the ship, I suggest that the two of you,” he pointed to me and Sabine, “remain hidden. Most of my crewmen are superstitious. They believe having a female on board is bad luck. I, however, don’t believe in superstitions, but should they find out there are two beautiful women aboard my ship? Well, let’s just say it is bound to produce a lot of unnecessary tension.

  “My men have specific duties that must be fulfilled to keep this ship running smoothly. The sea and the ocean beyond can be dangerous, and I require their complete cooperation.” His eyes shifted to Markus. “The less they know about our little arrangement, the better.”

  “You don’t have to worry about us,” I said. “Once you take us to our room, we’ll become invisible.”

  Another devilish grin. “Right this way then,” the captain said, leading us out of his quarters and down a dingy hallway. He swung open the first door on his left and stepped to the side.

  “I apologize for not having anything a little more . . . accommodating.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Markus said, stepping in, his huge frame gobbling up half the space.

  It was cramped quarters—a small desk with a wooden chair sat in one corner, and a hammock suspended from large bolts in the ceiling on the other. That was it. The floor was filthy, stained and covered with soil and dust.

  “Thank you, captain,” Sabine said, setting her pack on the desk, her eyes taking in the unkempt floor.

  As I stepped into the room, the captain’s hand gripped my shoulder. The warmth from his chest seeped through my clothing as he pressed his body against my back. His scent was spicy with a hint of salt breeze. “My cabin has room for one more,” he whispered, his warm breath brushed against my ear, his voice low and seductive.

  I angled my head slightly to the side. “Then maybe you should invite Markus. I think he would appreciate the extra space. And so would we.”

  Captain Sebastian chuckled; his breath sent tingles down my spine. “You wicked woman. Then, how about I take you on a tour, when time warrants, to stretch your legs and take in some fresh air?”

  I twisted around and faced him. “I just might take you up on that offer.”

  “Aye,” he responded. “I thought you would. Being on the sea, under the vast sky with the endless stars above . . . it’s truly magical.”

  “You sound like a romantic, captain.”

  Lust glinted in those sea-blue eyes. “I have my moments, love.”

  “I’m sure you do.” I took a few steps back into the room and said, “We thank you for your kindness and hospitality.” Then I shut the door in his face.

  “Calla,” Sabine gasped.

  “What?” I swung to her with wide eyes.

  Sabine’s eyes averted to the floor. “That was . . . rude.”

  “Rude? Me?” I gasped, throwing my hand over my heart. “I wasn’t rude. I was helping him. The captain has a ship to run and we have important matte
rs to discuss. Like sleeping arrangements. Right, Markus?”

  “Right,” he replied, plunging into the hammock, claiming it. The boards above creaked and groaned, straining under his weight.

  “You are going to bring the ceiling down on top of us,” I grumbled. He closed his eyes. “You have no problem knowing your two female companions will be sleeping on the hard, filthy floor?”

  One of Markus’s eyes opened and darted between me and Sabine before he held up his hand . . . his thumb and finger an inch apart. “Maybe this much.”

  Sabine huffed.

  “I think it’s fair. Neither of you would want to sleep next to me. I roll.” Markus gave a grand smile. “It’s a win-win situation all the way around.”

  I exhaled and nodded. “Well, since you are our official bodyguard on this expedition, we’ll let you take the hammock.”

  “Thank you, princess,” he said with a bend of his head.

  “Don’t call me that,” I groaned.

  “Why? It’s fact.” He re-closed his eyes and tucked his arms behind his head.

  “Just call me, Calla. I’ve always been Calla, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Fine, princess,” Markus snickered.

  Ever since we’d left Morbeth, Markus’s temperament had altered. I could sense a different man beneath the façade, a softer edge beneath the rough surface, hidden by the Captain of the Guard’s mask for countless years.

  Sabine picked up her bag and mumbled. “I don’t think this floor has ever been cleaned. It’s dreadful.” She took out a small rag, and on hands and knees, started sweeping the dirt into a corner.

  I coughed as she stirred up dust plumes. “Sabine, you don’t have to do that.”

  She paused and looked up at me. “I’ve been a servant all my life. This comes naturally to me. So please, let me do this by myself, or I won’t be able to breathe in this room, let alone sleep.”

  “Okay,” I said softly, backing away while she worked swiftly and efficiently.

  In no time, the floor was as clean as it could get. Sabine even managed to collect the dirt into her rag and toss it out the small porthole window.