“Well, don’t be shy with the goods. What did you find that you need my help with?”
She shot him a glare, and he laughed.
“You are so good to goad, darling,” he told her. “Something you need to work on. You don’t want your enemies to pick up on your weakness. They might use it to manipulate you.”
Kelia raised a curious eyebrow. “And how do I know who my enemies are?” she asked, tightening her grip on herself.
“That, my dear, is a very good question.” He tilted his head to the side again like a damn feline. “I suppose you just know it in your gut. A feeling you can’t ignore. Much like love, but more repellent.”
Kelia stared at him blankly, not quite believing that had come out of his mouth. “What weapons do you have besides a sword and a shot?” she asked.
He took a step toward her. Though he wasn’t excessively tall, he was still a good half a foot taller than she was, towering over her.
“What information do you have?” he asked. He grinned again. “Shall we trade? That would be fair, would it not?”
“Is anything ever fair with you?” Kelia asked, keeping her eyes on his.
She was more comfortable around him compared to their first meeting—something she never thought possible. Able to maintain eye contact without flinching. She could stand close to him, could see him approaching her, without losing her ground.
“I am a pirate, darling,” he clarified with a wink. “You should expect such mischievousness from the likes of me.”
“Tell me what my weapons are,” Kelia said, “and I’ll tell you the information. I know that while I may be the one without the power in our agreement, you are interested in what happens within The Society. By disseminating such classified information, I’m assisting you as well as assisting me.”
Drew stared at her for a long moment before his lips slowly curled up. “Maybe if you ask nicely,” he said.
Kelia felt her temper flare. “Would you make your male counterpart ask nicely?” she demanded.
“You’re angry,” he said, one long finger padding the tip of his chin. “Why?”
Kelia sighed. “Because I do not understand why anyone would want to kill my father,” she said.
Drew’s eyes shined. “Good,” he said. “Use it.” He took a step towards her. “If we were enemies—”
“We are,” Kelia interjected, narrowing her eyes.
“And we were battling,” he continued, his eyes getting darker as they got more intense. “What would you do? Would you strike first? Would you wait? Show me.”
Kelia narrowed her eyes. “Are you challenging me?” she asked him, tightening her grip on the hilt of her blade. “Because I must warn you, I am very good with a blade.”
“Oh, I know it,” Drew said, and she could tell he was sincere. “Not everyone can take down an Infant, even if they aren’t as vicious as The Society portrays them.”
Kelia clenched her jaw. “Are you saying I’ve been indoctrinated incorrectly?” she asked.
“I do respect you, darling,” Drew said, taking another step forward.
Kelia took a step back. The dance continued.
“Truly, I do. I have no doubt of how wonderful you are with your weapons, and you seem like a bright woman,” he continued. “However, I must insist the information you are receiving from your group is incorrect on many, many levels. I’d be happy to correct you. I think you would definitely benefit.”
“I don’t take kindly to correction,” she said.
His grin deepened. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
Without warning, he pushed off his heels and pounced on her. Even though Kelia had her sword out, he was too quick for her. His hands landed on her shoulders, his force knocking her down so he landed on top of her. His knees were on either side of her hips, and she tried to catch her breath without making it obvious that he had caught her unaware. Her sword had clattered to the ground, and while she could reach it if she extended her arm, his own hand prevented her from doing so.
“You’re not very prepared, are you?” he asked, covering nearly her entire body. His face was close to hers—too close—and she could see the points of his fangs glistening in the moonlight.
Kelia found it much more difficult than she anticipated recovering her senses and her ability to breathe. All she could do was stare into his eyes and not think about how close his lips were to her.
“You caught me off-guard,” she told him.
“You think your enemies are going to wait for you to be ready?”
He stared down at her, his dark hair falling into his face. Kelia took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. However, her skin erupted into goose bumps, her throat went dry, and she wanted to avert her gaze, but she could not. He would not let her.
After what felt like forever, he slowly pulled himself up, then offered her his hand. She hesitated, not quite sure if she should accept his help.
“Pride can be both a blessing and a curse,” he told her. “You are strong and fierce, Kelia Starling, but you are also reckless and emotional. You need to learn to control your emotions.”
Kelia clenched her teeth, biting back her retort. She did not want to hear about controlling her emotions. Her father used to tell her the same thing—saying easy emotions made for an easy target. He reminded her it was all right to feel things—emotions were good to decipher one’s self better—but she did not have to show those feelings to others. Thinking about her father made her miss him. She could not let herself be distracted right now.
“Again,” he instructed.
Kelia took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. She dusted her palms off on her skin-tight pants, picked up her sword, and positioned herself again.
“Tell me your information,” Drew instructed as he lunged for her. “Why did you come see me?”
Kelia tried to dodge him again. She nearly managed to beat him, but he grabbed her and pulled her down again. This time, she didn’t hurt as much. This time, she got up faster.
“They burned my father,” Kelia told him. Instead of waiting for him to make the first move, Kelia thrust her sword at him, stepping forward. He managed to step out of the way easily. “No funeral. No ceremony.”
Drew sidestepped her second attack so fast she couldn’t keep track of his physical form. “Because The Society is adamant he took his own life,” he said. He did not even sound out of breath.
“Yes,” she said with a nod, “and I am adamant he did not. But why believe his only daughter who knew him better than anyone?”
Drew’s eyes sparkled. He grabbed her right wrist and yanked her to him, snapping his elbow down so her back landed against his chest. Immediately, his hands were placed over her wrists, forcing her to drop her weapon and remain pinned against him. She struggled to break free from his tight grasp, but he would not release her.
“You sound bitter, love,” he pointed out, his voice tickling her ear, the slight scruff on his face caressing her cheek.
Kelia had never been this close to a man before, let alone a Sea Shadow. If he wanted to, he could slip out his fangs and sink them into her neck. She was powerless to stop him from doing so.
“If they lied about what killed your family, would you not also be bitter?” she asked, turning her head so she could see him from the corner of her eye.
Drew opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it. He cleared his throat and leaned toward her, so the tip of his nose touched her cheekbone.
“Again,” he whispered in a low, husky voice.
Kelia swallowed, but it did nothing to alleviate her dry throat. She took a step away from him, hoping he did not notice that she actually trembled, as though she needed him to help keep her balance.
Her hatred for Drew Knight only increased.
“Continue,” Drew instructed, nodding his head.
Somehow, Kelia understood what he meant. He wanted her to go on with her story, while also, again, continuing their physical lesson.
&
nbsp; A lesson she did not remember asking for.
Her heart raced, pumping adrenaline throughout her body, keeping her warm even in the cold night. She was certain it was well after curfew; she should be tired, but she could not find it in her to even yawn. There was something deep in her that wanted nothing more than to beat Drew Knight, to prove to him that she was a worthy opponent.
“I overheard two men talking on the docks,” she began as she turned around, positioning herself once more. Drew Knight did not even tense. He had a lazy smile on his face, as though he did not quite take her seriously. For some reason, there was a fervor to prove him wrong, to show him she was a threat. “Slayers, but not fighters. Sailors.”
Without warning, Kelia lunged left but threw her sword across her body so it went right. Drew must have predicted her blow would come from the left. As such, he nearly ran into the steel blade.
His eyes widened, surprised, and his lips curved up.
“Good,” he said, bending forward and using the rest of his momentum to slide under the attack, narrowly missing the sword. “And what did these men say?”
“They were going to pick up specific feeding cargo at Nassau, though they did not state what,” she said.
At that moment, Drew stepped so closely in front of her she nearly dropped her sword. His hands closed over hers, his dark eyes sparkling. Surely he could sense she was uncomfortable with how close he was to her, but this did not seem to deter him.
“These, darling, are your weapons,” he explained. “Your hands. Your legs. Your eyes. Your mouth. Do not forget the gifts God has given you. Use them to your advantage. You do not need to fight to win.”
Kelia didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead, she regarded him coolly, not backing away from him despite how uncomfortable she was.
“You must go on that mission,” he stated. “You know this.”
Kelia pressed her lips into a thin line. She did know this, but she didn’t want to admit it. She’d come here hoping Drew would have another answer—send her on a different path. Not confirm what she feared.
“You’re nowhere near ready,” Drew told her, his eyes never wavering from hers. “But it’s the best we can expect from you.”
Chapter 11
The next evening, Kelia waited until after dinner to sneak off. She’d needed food in her system in order to take the concoction prescribed by the infirmary for seasickness. She knew it was a risk—she found she continued to take more risks than she had since officially enrolling in the academy at her father’s behest. She had no idea where she was going except to the docks. She did not know which boat they intended to use or when it would actually leave. However, she hoped the two men were as loud and as noticeable as they had been when her father was burned.
She purposefully wore the outfit she was given when she was sent on a mission: a form-fitting suit that clung to her body and made engaging in battle easy. She had to rid herself of her plain dress, which she did when she was safe from everyone’s view and down on the docks. She carried a sack to stash her dress, placing it in some bushes before making her way to the dock.
The night was especially bitter. She wished she thought to bring her gloves. Her hair was pulled from her face into a high ponytail, braided until the ends. Kelia hoped to blend in. She kept her slippers on, rather than boots. She knew the wood creaked and did not want to place unnecessary pressure on the dock than she needed to. Getting caught could garner a severe punishment, and she had no way to explain why she was here and not tucked safely away in bed.
As her eyes beheld the four society boats, she tried to find one that revealed it would be sailing tonight, narrowing her eyes when she saw a crate on the deck of one of the boats.
That one.
Kelia glanced around, trying to make sure the shadows were not people. She needed to ensure she was truly alone before slipping onto the boat. If she could get tucked away before anyone else arrived, she would be safe.
The water gently lapped against the sides, and Kelia’s stomach seized. She had been on deck for merely a second, and she was already prepared to empty the contents of her stomach on the recently cleaned wood. She needed to hide. Now.
As quickly and quietly as she could, she headed to the staircase and for the cargo hold. Each society boat was built the same way. There would be plenty of places to hide there. Except, when she threw open the door, she found the hold was completely empty.
That was strange.
There was a bench and some shelving for certain supplies. Kelia felt she could position herself underneath the bench if she absolutely needed to, but she would not be hidden from sight.
Desperate times and all that.
She heaved a sigh. After dropping onto her knees, she crawled over to the bench and positioned herself underneath it. Her back ached already, and she knew it would be a long while before she could move from the position she was in. Kelia needed to wait until the Slayers did their initial sweep of the ship before she could get up and pace.
At that moment, she heard stomping on deck and the crate being lifted. She froze. They were here. From her position underneath the bench, she could hear them muttering to themselves through the floorboards.
“Not sure where to put this blasted thing,” one muttered.
“Well, gotta make sure they all fit. It’s not like we can prepare for the human slaves and all.”
Kelia tilted her head, not sure if she heard that right. Humans? As in, human cargo? And had he said slaves?
She rubbed her lips together, trying to focus on anything but the pain she was experiencing. Contorting herself underneath the bench was not as practical as she thought it would be. The stray locks of hair that had come free from her braid danced around her face. It might hide her eyes, but it would be a detriment to her sight. She needed to see clearly to assess the situation as best as she could. The handle of her trusted blade dug into her side, and the sheath dug into her thigh awkwardly.
Minutes passed. Her body was numb, her feet tingling with impatience and immobility. She tried to think of different things to pass the time, but the minutes crept by. She could not tell if they had already begun sailing since the waters seemed calm, and she could not hear the men speak from belowdecks.
Kelia could not believe she was here. She was well aware there was a good chance she’d get caught, and if she were, she would be in deep trouble. These missions were confidential. Even though the two Slayers who oversaw these missions were incompetent at best did not mean they didn’t have a higher clearance level, something she did not yet possess. They might not be able to fight to save their lives, but they could get her into hot water.
Except, what was she doing wrong? If The Society wasn’t doing anything untoward, why was it wrong for Kelia to sneak aboard this ship and see what was happening? It wasn’t her fault she found out about this mission; these two idiots couldn’t keep their mouths shut to save their lives.
Sighing, she glanced away, looking instead at the walls. The soft lull of the moving ocean shushed outside as it swayed the ship, rocking it back and forth like the arms of a mother. What did they normally keep down here? Were humans forced down here like cattle, without even a window to stare out from?
Her stomach churned. The thought did not sit well in the pit of her stomach. In fact, she felt her face heat up with shame. She wasn’t completely ignorant of slaves. The East India Company was notorious for building their company on the backs of human cargo who were transported to and from different ports up and down the Caribbean. There were times when they transported them all the way back to England. Kelia did not know specifics. Since it did not directly concern her, she did not think much of it.
And that was the part she was ashamed of.
Now, there was a good chance The Society was picking up human cargo, specifically slaves. What Kelia did not know was why they needed slaves when they had the Sightless to fulfill the requirements of a typical servant’s duty. They did not need slaves�
��nobody did. People should not be subjected to being treated like property when they should have the same rights as everyone else.
Kelia tried to shift again, but she felt as though the limited space had closed even more substantially.
Was there a way to ensure the human cargo would go free? A way to ensure they would not fall into the hands of The Society? Her thoughts were a betrayal to the group that practically raised her, but she could not fathom why The Society needed them unless it was for a classified purpose that did not bode well for the slaves.
She had to remain hidden. As much as she longed to pull herself from her position and stretch out her body, easing the pain in her muscles, she could not.
There was a good chance the two Slayers would have no idea why they were required to pick up slaves. Of course, these men did not question their orders. They kept their mouths shut, their heads down, and did their job. They were perfect for this line of work. Except when they spoke too loudly because they either did not see her on the docks or did not care.
If she wanted to see why The Society needed slaves, she would have to allow them to be taken. She would have to be okay with being in this room with them, knowing they would not escape. Knowing they did not belong here.
Yet, that did not sit well with Kelia. The fact she would knowingly allow these people to be transported back to The Society on the off-chance she could sneak around and see what purpose they served made her stomach roil. She clenched her teeth. At least she did not have to make that decision right away.
At that moment, the door creaked open. Familiar voices carried through.
“…nearly there,” the first Slayer said. “I’d give it another five, ten minutes, tops. They sea is surprisingly calm right now. We might be able to make it back to HQ by sunrise, if all goes well.”
Sea of Darkness {Vampire Pirate Saga 1 Page 9