Kelia wasn’t sure what Rycroft was trying to get out of her, but something about the entire conversation was strange.
Very strange.
“No, sir,” she replied carefully.
Rycroft stood. “Then you are dismissed.”
Kelia followed suit and offered him a small smile. She gave him a nod, proceeding to head out the door before Rycroft stopped her with one last comment.
“You will surprise us yet, Kelia Starling.”
It sounded positive, an emotion all Slayers longed to get from Ashton Rycroft. But there was something in his words, something ominous, that made Kelia feel heavy with unease as she left the office.
Chapter 3
The minute Kelia finally stepped into her room, her expectations of tranquility vanished. Her dorm mate, Jennifer Espinoza, sat on her rose-pink bed, her brown eyes wide with excitement.
Perfect.
“I heard all about your adventure at sea,” Jennifer exclaimed, leaning towards Kelia as if eagerly anticipating a story. “I did not know Infants were actually… Well, of course they are real. But usually their creator keeps them under wraps until they are ready to venture out on their own. And it sounds like this one was not ready.”
Kelia threw a sharp glance at her friend as she slowly slid onto the foot of her bed and began to remove her boots. “How do you know that?” she asked, trying to contain her suspicion. She dropped her gaze to her boots, hoping her eyes would not give her away. Her father always told her she was as turbulent as the sea, and her eyes let everyone know what she was thinking. One did not need to be a witch to understand that.
“Everyone is talking about it,” Jennifer said. She pushed onto her stomach, then swung her legs into the air so her skirt fell downward to reveal her nicely shaped calves and ankles.
Kelia swallowed, uncomfortable with her showing so much skin, even if they were of the same sex.
“How amazing, for them to have chosen you. I heard whispers you weren’t ready, that this was a suicide mission, but I knew if anyone could survive, if anyone could make it back, it would be you.”
Kelia was not sure how she felt about the praise. She knew she excelled in her studies, and she could hold her own in a physical fight as long as she had her trusted cutlass with her. However, there were weapons she had not yet mastered—she could not shoot a pistol or an arrow to save her life, and the thought of using her hands to defend herself made her pale. She felt comfortable on solid ground with her weapon of choice resting at her hip, reassuring her it was there should she require it.
Which reminded her… she needed to clean her blade—but only after her meeting with her father.
“Thanks,” she murmured before she forgot Jennifer had spoken to her. Candles were lit and placed all over the room, causing her nose to twitch. Jennifer preferred jasmine, but sometimes the floral scent made Kelia sneeze.
“How was it?” Jennifer asked. “Were you frightened? I would have been so scared. I suppose that’s why I chose marriage instead of The Society once I’ve aged out.” She wrinkled her brow. “Which reminds me… The Society has sent me a gift! I simply must show you…”
She hopped off the bed with more enthusiasm than Kelia had seen her show during any physical training, then headed over to her commode. This room reeked of Jennifer, though Kelia did have bits and pieces of things she liked, such as the painting of the ocean during a sunset. Plus, Jennifer let her choose the bed she slept in even though Jennifer was older and therefore had more seniority. Kelia put up with the various candles and frills because Jennifer was one of the nicest people Kelia had met at The Society. And that was hard to be, considering how hard this place turned people, even the ladies.
Jennifer was light and warm. She was not a good fit for this life, but since her parents died and she had nowhere else to go, The Society took her in. If Kelia had to guess, it was due to her exotic beauty—a perfect lure for the Sea Shadows before she ripped them to shreds with her knives. Jennifer was a good fighter, too, but she did not particularly care for slaying…or using her beauty as an accessory for trapping the undead. She would rather use it to ensnare a husband.
It made absolute sense to Kelia that once Jennifer turned eighteen, she would choose to marry a man The Society deemed acceptable rather than give up that option and focus on hunting Sea Shadows. At seventeen, Kelia wanted both. She clenched her jaw when she heard Rycroft’s chuckles ringing in her ears once more. Her long fingers curled into fists, and she all but yanked the gloves off her wrists to distract herself from what had so recently transpired between her and her handler.
Kelia glanced out the window, crossing her arms over her chest. It didn’t matter.
She had to meet with her father as soon as she was able to.
“Look,” Jennifer said, beckoning Kelia over with a wave of her hand.
Kelia wanted to refuse; she had no time for dallying, especially since she could hear the soft roll of thunder and the drops of rain on the glass windows. She did not want to be out in the storm for very long.
However, upon seeing the eager smile on Jennifer’s face, she found she could not muster up a no. Instead, she hoped she would be able to get this over with as quickly as possible.
“What am I looking at?” Kelia asked as she made her way over to the commode. She needed to change her boots. Though they were waterproof, she did not like one drop of water on her stockings. She leaned down and started to remove them as Jennifer picked something up.
“Makeup,” Jennifer exclaimed. “For my wedding day!”
She lifted the powder and rouge up so Kelia could better inspect them. They hadn’t even been open yet; the makeup was still wrapped tightly for Jennifer to open at the right moment.
Kelia couldn’t stop her eyebrow from quirking as she slid off the second boot, holding it in her hands. She could feel the material was wet; luckily, it wouldn’t soak into the boots due to the strong leather material.
“You aren’t set to marry until spring,” she pointed out. “That’s nearly six months away. Why send you the gift now?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jennifer said, placing the makeup back on her desk before hopping onto her bed. She crossed her arms over her head, staring up at the ceiling. “I like to think they want to give us ample time to practice, so by the time we are wed, we are an expert at applying it ourselves.”
Kelia went to pick up one of her candles, but thought better of it. “I’d say you’ve been an expert on makeup since you were thirteen and had your first debut.”
Jennifer chuckled. “Well, we all can’t be good at fighting and studies,” she said. “What am I going to use those things for once I’m married? I plan to run a proper household with lots of children and raise them myself, without any assistance.” She sighed whimsically. “Oh, Key, I’ve always wanted to be a mother. And once I am wed, that dream will come true.”
Kelia shook her head, making sure Jennifer couldn’t see her. It was an odd thing, to dream about being a mother when she was biologically capable of having a child now, if she wanted it.
Well, perhaps that was not entirely true. Apparently, Kelia’s father and mother struggled to conceive. Her mother had to take a potion from a midwife, and they’d conceived her next cycle. At least, that was what her father told her.
“What about you?” Jennifer asked as she looked up at her friend.
Kelia placed both of her boots under her bed, hoping it would not take long for them to dry. She needed to get out of this suit before the damp material clung to her skin and got her sick. She also wanted to dry her hair but knew that wouldn’t be possible if she wanted to leave on time for her father.
“I hear Charles is still pursuing you,” Jennifer pressed when Kelia didn’t reply.
Kelia forced herself not to shudder at the mere mention of Charles Snow. It was not as though Charles was a poor choice in a partner. Nor was he unsightly in any way. He would make any lady a wonderful husband. The problem was Kelia did not
believe she was that woman. She did not feel as though there was anything between them, so she tried to avoid him at all cost.
Instead, Kelia had hoped to fall in love the way her parents had. It wasn’t something she shared with anyone, considering a love match was as rare as running into Drew Knight, one of the most powerful Sea Shadows in the Caribbean. However, she knew it was possible and refused to settle for anything less.
She cleared her throat, flattening her hands against her pantaloons. For some reason, she felt her eyes getting clammy and she wanted to wipe off the excess perspiration. The sweet aroma from Jennifer’s candles tickled Kelia’s nose, and she took a deep breath. Thinking about romance was not something she liked to do often.
Of course, she could not tell Jennifer this, even though they were friends and Kelia trusted her more than most. Jennifer would run away with such wild whimsies. Try to introduce Kelia to every worthy male she knew…and Kelia was in no mood to suffer boys when she preferred a man.
“Yes, well,” Kelia said, walking behind her divider so she could change. “I would prefer to focus on my studies rather than the likes of Charles Snow.” She unlaced the corset from the front, exhaling at her relief to breathe again. From there, she removed the black, long-sleeved portion of the bodysuit before bending down and doing the same thing with her legs.
“You never know,” Jennifer teased from the other side of the divider. “Someone might snare your heart yet, Kelia. Then what will you do?”
Kelia’s heart clenched. For a moment, she allowed the thought that such a thing was possible. That she would find someone worthy of falling in love with. In an instant, she banished the idea. Just because she wanted it did not mean it would happen, and she wasn’t going to waste her time dreaming of something far into the future…if it happened at all.
“I must be going, Jennifer,” Kelia said, throwing on a day dress that would get wetter than her suit.
Jennifer’s brow wrinkled. “You’re going out?”
The expression was not common for her, considering it took a lot to surprise Jennifer, but more than that, Jennifer always told Kelia that furrowing one’s brow created wrinkles, and she didn’t want to ruin her youth. Where Kelia embraced growing older, Jennifer wanted to stay as young as she could for as long as she could.
“My father wants to celebrate my survival,” Kelia said quickly. She felt the discomfort at lying to anyone, much less someone she called friend, twist and turn her gut. “We always go to Scarlett’s just to get away, the two of us.”
This seemed to make Jennifer happy because she beamed. “How I envy you,” she said. “Try to stay dry, yeah? It looks like the rain will get bad before it gets better.”
“Yes, indeed.”
Kelia grabbed an umbrella from her wardrobe. She had a long, heavy black overcoat she would throw on as well, and she quickly redid her hair into a tight, perfect braid that made her feel more comfortable than she currently was. Her hair was still slick with rain, but she could not do anything about it now. She nodded a farewell before heading out the door.
It was easy for her to take the east hallway and walk down the winding staircase and through another hallway before slipping out of the fortress doors that led directly to the downtown area of Port George. Curfew was not for another hour, so no one would think to question her exit even though she had just returned.
She felt as if she were sneaking around, when she was just going to see her father. Why did she feel this way?
When she stepped outside, the rain was coming down hard, pelting her flimsy umbrella like rocks. She walked as quickly as she could down the dirt roads of Port George. No one was out in this weather, which was not surprising. She managed to reach the tavern in less than ten minutes, then stepped under the awning to shake her umbrella out before closing it and heading inside.
The Scarlett Wench was bustling with activity, and she nearly ran into a buxom blonde wench who carried pints of ale. The woman shouted at her for her carelessness, and Kelia hurriedly apologized. Using the umbrella to stabilize herself, she began to make her way through the boisterous crowd, searching a familiar head of dark hair. When she could not find him, she slowly made her way to the back, keeping an eye out for anyone hunched over at a table rather than partaking in the music and dancing.
But he was not there.
Kelia pursed her lips. It was just after nine o’clock, and her father was never late. However, perhaps he got caught up with something. She would give him another ten minutes, but after that, she was heading back before it got too late. Though she was skilled at defending herself, she did not like to be out alone at night.
Instead of taking a seat, Kelia tried to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible, hoping the time would pass quickly. She found herself standing next to a wanted poster The Society put out, one of Andrew Knight, one of the most dangerous Sea Shadows on the planet.
He was one of the oldest—which meant he was one of the most powerful. Alive since the sixteen hundreds, he was supposed to be one of the most beautiful Shadows that ever existed. He had been a beautiful man, so once he was transformed, his appearance was enhanced. She had seen a composite of him in one of their textbooks a couple of years ago. Kelia hated to admit it, but as she regarded the drawing, she could not help but trace the lines of his high, sharp cheekbones and his pointed chin.
He dressed like a gentleman—white tunic, overcoat, pantaloons, and fine boots. But there was something about his air, something the artist managed to capture, that said he had a dangerousness to him. It was the intense dark stare that seemed to pierce through her, to make her shudder even though it was a simple sketch. It reminded her that these creatures were still monsters. Nothing changed the fact they could not touch land during the day, and they stayed undead by feeding on the blood of those who were alive.
She tore her gaze away from the poster over to a grandfather clock.
When ten minutes passed and her father still had not shown, Kelia drummed her fingers against the wall, annoyed she had braved the rain for a meeting that hadn’t occurred. And he had made it seem so important…
By the time Kelia returned to the fortress, the candles that lit up the hallways were dimming. It was almost time to return to their rooms for the evening.
“Kelia,” a familiar voice called, catching her attention.
“Charles?” Kelia raised an eyebrow, surprised to see him in the foyer as though he had been waiting for her. Judging by the ashen tint to his handsome features, she had the sense that something was wrong. “Is everything all right?”
“Your father…” Charles swallowed, his stormy eyes wary and unsure.
Kelia glared. “Just tell me, Charles,” she demanded, trying to ignore the coil of dread slithering around her waist like a serpent’s tail.
Charles’ jaw clenched. Then, in a gentle voice, he said, “Your father, Kelia…he’s…he’s dead.”
Chapter 4
Cold. Kelia felt cold, her muscles as stiff as the wood she used to practice staking Sea Shadows. She could barely walk as she followed Rycroft down the stone hallway to his office once again, but somehow, she made it. She could not believe that, just two hours ago, her father had been waiting for her return on the fortress docks. He’d seemed off, she knew that. Something had been troubling him, and he seemed as if he wanted to get the burden off his shoulders. But what that burden was, Kelia could not guess.
She should have asked him about it, forced him to tell her something. Anything.
Now, however—if what Charles told her was true—she did not have that chance.
But how could Charles know before she did?
Ashton Rycroft made his grand appearance just after Charles said the words—Your father is dead—as though he was going to swoop right in and fix everything. She was almost grateful for Rycroft’s appearance, because it got her away from Charles and his pitiful blue eyes. She hated unnecessary sympathy, hated it nearly as much as she hated Sea Shadows. Ke
lia could not stand the thought of anyone pitying her, and she’d needed to get away from him before she lashed out.
She hoped Rycroft would tell her that Charles was an idiot and had no idea what he was talking about. That this was most likely a cry for attention, a way to make her notice him. However, the somber expression on Rycroft’s face did not convey anything like that.
Her gut pinched, but she put a mask of cool indifference on her face as she turned to her handler. As the two began to head down the familiar black-stone hallway back to his office, he did not say a word to her.
He didn’t have to.
When she stepped through the doorway, the room—with all of its gleaming, shining trophies—was so bright she nearly had to look away. It was too suffocating, she realized. The office was too small, too overwhelming. She needed to get out of there. She couldn’t breathe.
“Ms. Starling,” Rycroft said as he sat his frame in his chair. His voice was heavy, his eyes a dark sympathetic blue. She already knew before he confirmed what Charles had told her: her father was dead. “Your father’s body was discovered in his room minutes before your arrival back at the fortress after you stepped out unexpectedly.”
Kelia took in a deep breath, watching her handler with a critical eye. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, perhaps ask him a question or explain where she had been, but she remained silent. She could not bring herself to say anything else.
What could he possibly expect her to say?
Perhaps he was waiting for her to burst into tears. To be honest, Kelia had no idea why she was not crying. However, the thought of spilling tears felt unnatural because she felt numb. She was not sad or upset. She felt absolutely…nothing, as if she were not here, like this had not really happened. She was a wraith, someone who floated around and observed but could not interact. And if she wanted to, she could vanish in an instant.
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