“You betrayed me,” Kelia said through gritted teeth. “You kept that from me. You knew exactly what The Society was picking up. You knew it, and you did not tell me.”
“Correct.” He slowly uncoiled his fingers from her neck, and she realized he had not been holding her tight enough to choke her. “I kept that from you. I would do it again.”
As he took a step back, Drew’s eyes lingered on her for a fraction too long. Kelia had to clench her jaw to suppress a shudder. She hoped he could see how much she hated him in that moment.
But he was already gone, and, truth be told, he probably did not even care.
Chapter 13
Ashton Rycroft’s office was much colder than it usually was.
After arriving back on land after the fiasco that was the mission she had assigned herself to, she knew she was in so deep that there was no point in trying to talk her way out of this one.
Her eyes took in the pristine surface of Rycroft’s oak desk, the stiff back of his chair, the various colorful trinkets he placed throughout his office, like trophies he had won during battle. Except everyone knew Ashton Rycroft was not a fighter. He had barely been a Slayer.
That information gave Kelia a reason to calm down her thinking and relax into her stiff chair. As long as she remembered that she could defend herself against him much better than he could ever fight against her, she found some sort of peace.
“Ms. Starling,” Rycroft began as soon as he sat his portly body into his chair. He laced his fingers together and placed his forearms on the surface of the desk, leaning forward so he could lock eyes with her “You have had quite an interesting week.”
Interesting? Stressful was a word she would have preferred. Frustrating. Even emotional. But interesting did not even begin to cover it.
Kelia pressed her lips together, ready to snap at him for calling her week interesting when she survived her father’s death and The Society’s lies about it. But as she also remembered she had just helped Drew Knight release a couple of hundred slaves before coming back here to listen to her fate, she couldn’t help but try to look anywhere but at her handler, let alone give him an earful.
“Let’s start with tonight,” he said. “You happened to find yourself on a cargo ship with two Slayers as they traveled to pick up confidential cargo from Nassau,” he stated.
“Yes,” Kelia said.
There was no trying to deny it. Those two Slayers—that was also another word she did not agree with when describing those baboons who had not even tried to fight the Sea Shadows off—had gotten themselves kidnapped by Sea Shadows easily and it was up to her to rescue them.
He reached in one of his desk drawers and pulled out a ledger and something to write with. He placed a small pot of black ink just off to the right, in easy reach for use.
“How did you find out about the mission in the first place?” Rycroft asked, poised to write.
Kelia wrinkled her brow. Though he had not told her at the time, he was clearly taking her statement. She had to be very careful with what she said; Rycroft might not be a fighter, but he could manipulate words and twist them so they served him rather than the mouth they came out of.
Kelia’s entire body wanted to react. Instead, she slowed down her breathing and tried to remind herself that she could think before she spoke, and sometimes, reacting was not the best or the wisest decision.
“I overheard them discussing it on the docks after they lit my father’s body on fire,” Kelia said slowly. This was one thing she realized she did not have to lie about. “I was upset. Distraught over the loss of my father. Over what happened to him. And I thought I could do something, anything, really, to get my mind off it. When I overheard this was taking place, I readied myself for the mission and snuck on board. I was not trying to get anyone in trouble. I know I wasn’t supposed to be there. But it was nice doing something beneficial, something to help The Society rather than to sit around and mope.”
“Sweet Kelia,” Rycroft said, placing one hand over hers.
She had to struggle with her initial reaction to not grimace when she felt his chubby, clammy hand over hers. She had not even realized she had placed them on the surface of the desk during her explanation, but she had, probably to emphasize her point.
“I have no idea how you must be suffering,” he continued. “I think it’s important you realize his death was not your fault. Sometimes, we go searching for answers only the dead have. It’s times like these when we need to move on, to let go of those things that bind us to people who want nothing more than to drag us down into the depths with them.”
Kelia slid her hand away from Rycroft’s, trying to make it seem natural by curling an errant strand of hair behind her ear before replacing it in her lap. She had to refrain from wiping the residue of his clammy palm in the folds of her skirt, and made a mental note to scrub it off as soon as she was out of here.
“I am, however, curious how you were able to sneak on board without anyone seeing you,” Rycroft continued, his face neutral but his tone revealing his curiosity. “Quite strange, for a young woman to sneak onto a cargo ship with none the wiser, don’t you think?”
“I believe the Slayers were focused on setting the correct course,” Kelia said. She knew she was lying at this point, and needed to ensure her lies came out convincing. She needed to believe she was speaking the truth. “I’ve also been working on my appearances, Mr. Rycroft. I know I haven’t always been the stealthiest of Slayers, but my imperfections have given me a cause to work during this difficult time. As I’ve stated before, I’ve thrown myself into this, into making myself a better Slayer, for the good of The Society. Of course, I realize I have a long way to go, but my determination is hardening. I want nothing less than to be the very best I can be.”
Rycroft smiled, but Kelia noticed it did not reach his eyes, still hidden behind his spectacles. “And that’s what makes you an excellent Slayer,” Rycroft told her. “Your emotions, your grit, make you human. And that is something we cannot forget. That we’re human. Our heart still beats in our chests, pumping blood through our body. But that makes us vulnerable. It makes us imperfect. It makes us act impulsively. It makes us partake in choices that are not good at all.”
Where was he going with this? Kelia pressed her hands down into her lap to stop them from trembling, and forced a neutral expression on her face, focusing on Rycroft as he continued.
He tilted his head to the side and leaned forward. “Ms. Starling, I have spoken to both Slayers assigned to the mission, and they claimed you were sent to protect them. Why would you tell them that?”
This would be a more difficult question to answer. It was the point in which Rycroft would realize she was capable of lying, no matter what she said. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she tried to settle her racing thoughts, but it was of little use.
“I told them that,” she said, “because I meant it. About protecting them. However, I know the pride of men. I realize how stubborn they can be. And I didn’t think they would allow me on board if I told them I volunteered for the position.”
Rycroft narrowed his eyes at Kelia as if he was trying to decipher if she were lying. Kelia continued to maintain eye contact with him. Without blinking. Without flinching. She had done nothing wrong. She was doing this for the good of The Society.
“Well, they would not let you on board because this mission was confidential,” he replied. “The fact you overheard them speak in the first place says wonders, and on top of that, without telling your handler or anyone else, you decided to include yourself in the mission for no other reason other than to satisfy your own desire.”
“I did it to help—”
“No one asked for your help, Ms. Starling,” Rycroft said, his tone brusque and unwavering.
“If I hadn’t been there, your two Slayers would be dead,” Kelia pointed out. It was dangerous for her to say that, she knew. Dangerous for her to be arguing with her handler about going against orders,
staying out past curfew, and failing the mission anyway. But it was a fair point nonetheless.
“You may not have gotten harmed, Kelia, but you did put those men in danger by being there,” Rycroft said. “They might not know how to physically defend themselves, but there are other ways to protect themselves against Shadows.”
“Such as?” Kelia asked before she could stop herself.
Immediately, she knew she said the wrong thing. She should not have pushed Rycroft, gotten so defensive. She hated to admit it, but Drew’s voice murmured through her head how emotions made one act impulsively and she could do much better if she just calmed down and thought things through before acting out in the first place.
Rycroft’s forehead wrinkled as he pushed up his brow. Kelia wished she could take back what she said, especially considering her face was turning red due to her stupid remark.
Knowing she couldn’t, she cleared her throat. “I apologize for speaking out of turn, handler,” she murmured before dropping her gaze to her lap. “I did not mean to question you.”
He huffed out a breath. “You have always been outspoken.” He fiddled with his thin-rimmed spectacles before placing his hand back on the desk. “It is a trait I admire about you, Kelia. You need to learn to use it sparingly, however. You never know who you might offend with that pretty little mouth of yours.” Kelia felt a shiver slide down her back, and he straightened, clearing his throat. “I need you to brief me on your encounter with Drew Knight.”
Kelia didn’t allow the tenseness that coursed through her body to show on her face. She refused to let Rycroft get the better of her when she had only scratched the surface with regards to what she was uncovering. She still didn’t know how it related to her father’s death, but she had the feeling she was close, that she would discover the answer soon—if it wasn’t already staring at her in the face—and any weakness she showed, anything that gave her away, could completely set back everything.
“What would you like to know?” she asked, her voice as neutral as she could make it.
“Everything,” Rycroft said, looking down at his fingers and stretching them so he could see his perfectly trimmed nails. “When did you discover his presence?”
“He announced himself,” Kelia said, “just as we docked at Nassau. He was on our mast, and questioned us about why The Society would need human cargo.”
Rycroft froze, a peculiar expression on his face. “And how did you respond to that?” he asked slowly, his voice curious but also tentative.
Kelia blinked. She could tell he didn’t like that she knew about the human cargo, that he was probably thinking of some excuse for them.
“I didn’t dignify his question with a response,” she told him. Her tension vanished. In this way, she had the upper hand. “I refused to let him goad me into saying something I might later regret. That, and I did not want him to distract me.”
Rycroft widened his eyes. She got the sense he was surprised—not shocked or upset, but as if he approved of her rational thoughts when he didn’t expect them. He nodded for her to continue.
“He jumped from the mast and engaged in physical combat with me,” she continued. For the most part, she realized she did not have to lie, which made everything much easier than she thought it would be. “Knight’s crew of Shadows took hold of the two sailors while simultaneously freeing the cargo. I could not prevent them from doing so because of my engagement trying to stop Drew Knight. Even if I could, I do not think I would have been able to manage it, considering he had at least eight other Shadows with him and there was only one Slayer who knew how to engage in physical combat.”
“Right,” Rycroft said, pursing his lips and glaring at her through his spectacles. “You mean yourself.”
She nodded, though she didn’t do so confidently. Something about the way he said that sounded like entrapment.
“To be sure I understand correctly,” Rycroft continued, “Drew Knight engaged you in physical combat, and while doing so, had his crew of Shadows kidnap the other two Slayers who could not fight themselves while freeing the cargo?”
Kelia went over his words carefully. There was only one answer she could give at this point.
“Yes,” she said finally, nodding her head once.
“In other words…” he pressed. “Eight Sea Shadows were needed to fight two Slayers who were not combat ready, while their leader faced off with the only trained Slayer aboard ship.”
Kelia pressed her lips together. What did Rycroft want her to say? Indeed, he’d exposed the unlikelihood of her story, even if she had only spoken the truth of what had happened. He must sense she was omitting something, or at least been aware there were missing pieces, such a Drew’s motivations and reasoning.
Finally, Kelia gave a soft shrug of her shoulders. “It is strange, isn’t it?” she asked, choosing to join him in his confusion. “It’d be nice to know what that Sea Shadow was thinking.”
“Let me ask you a question, Ms. Starling,” Rycroft said, lacing his fingers once again and leaning forward so he could peer at her more closely. “Why is it that Drew Knight, one of the strongest, most fearsome Sea Shadows around, engaged in battle with a Slayer still attending her schooling, and yet…here you are, not a mark on you?”
“I handled myself quite well, sir,” Kelia said, locking her ankles together under her chair.
Why was he questioning her ability to stay alive instead of praising her skill at holding her own against Drew Knight? That should have been something she was praised for by her handler, not questioned. Not condemned.
Unless he suspected what really happened—that Drew had let her get away.
Rycroft adjusted his spectacles on his nose. “You are still a Slayer who does not know what she plans to do once she hits eighteen,” he said. “And yet, you expect me to believe you survived against Drew Knight when you could barely hold your own against an Infant?”
He smiled, though the gesture did not quite reach his eyes.
“Perhaps I wasn’t his priority,” Kelia said. She meant to keep the offense out of her tone, but it was more difficult to do so than she realized. She might not know what she wanted to do in the next few months, but she did know she was going to solve her father’s murder. “Perhaps his intention wasn’t to harm the Slayers, but to rescue the human cargo.”
“Rescue?” Rycroft asked, not bothering to hide the disgust on his face at the tone. “You think a Sea Shadow intended to rescue human cargo?” He sneered at her before chuckling. “Did Drew Knight sweep you under his spell? I would have thought you had a clearer head on your shoulders, Ms. Starling.”
Kelia felt her face turn red at his comment, and she had to clench her teeth to keep from saying anything that would get her reprimanded. Or worse. She hated that her vision threatened to blur with tears, but she managed to keep the moisture at bay. She hated how weak she was, hated how stupid she could be. Why would she use a word like rescue? A Sea Shadow would not rescue humans. The Society insisted they were beasts, after all.
“Not that it’s any of your business, Ms. Starling,” Rycroft said, leaning forward, “but we took the human cargo, so we could rescue them from the Sea Shadows.”
That sounded much more believable, to be honest. Why else would The Society need human cargo? They wouldn’t. With the Sightless acting as servants to work off their penance for their mistakes, there was no need for slaves in The Society.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Rycroft said slowly, leaning back in his chair. “I suppose this odd transformation is because of your loss and your confusion on how to handle it. You will move on from this, Ms. Starling. You must. If you want to be a Slayer, it is a requirement.” He stood abruptly, his chair dragging against the carpeted floor. “I insist you retire for the evening, Ms. Starling. You’ve had a long day. Tomorrow, you will start your punishment: a fortnight of cleaning with the Sightless. Report to Abigail after breaking your fast, and she will tell you your duties.”
Kel
ia stood, with every intention of returning to her room to partake in some much-needed rest.
Instead, her feet led her down the long hall and to the back of the fortress where she slipped out into the night.
Chapter 14
Kelia was never one to fight with her hands, but her left hand itched to break Drew’s perfect nose.
The bastard had betrayed her. He withheld important information because he did not trust her with it, even though she was the one risking her neck to work with him. She was the one who had just gotten in trouble with Rycroft, punished with the task of cleaning—one of her most dreaded enemies—while he got to return to his ship in one piece.
During the long trek to Drew ship—if it was still docked where it normally was—Kelia’s hands were balled into fists, and she stomped there the whole time. Her eyes were narrowed, her brow heavy over her eyes. She was certain she would have a headache by the time she returned to the fortress, but she didn’t care. It was the only way she could release her frustration that did not involve shouting or hitting something.
Though she did plan to rectify that quite soon.
When she finally made it to the hidden docks, she was surprised to find the rowboat, tied up for her like a present. Drew’s ship was where it always was. The sea was calm tonight, making it easier for her to reach his ship. Although her muscles burned as she rowed the boat, she found she was getting used to the task, and the pain helped her focus her frustration somewhere. She also noticed her nausea start to decrease with each trip she made out to Drew.
Once the boat hit the ship, Kelia threw the rope up so a Sea Shadow or Emma could tie the boat to the ship before she climbed up the ladder and flung herself on board. She wanted nothing more than to collapse. It had been a long day already, and she hadn’t gotten much sleep.
Standing at the helm of his ship, as though he’d been waiting for her, was Drew Knight himself, looking like a bloody masterpiece. There was no worry on his face, his hair was not disheveled. He had even seen fit to throw on a new outfit, this one consisting of a blue overcoat, black breeches, brown boots, and a white tunic.
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