“Yes, of course,” she managed to get out. “Aren’t we all?”
A shy smile tugged at Charles’ lips. “Yes, of course,” he said. “How silly of me. Are you attending with someone specifically?”
Kelia’s patience was starting to thin. She did not want to be here. “No, I hadn’t thought of it,” she said quickly, glancing at the staircase that would lead her to her escape. “I’ve had a lot on my mind, and I intend to continue on as a Slayer.”
“Oh, yes,” Charles said, shaking his head. “Forgive me. How ignorant of me.”
“Charles,” Kelia said again. “Forgive me for rushing you, but my feet ache from walking, and I would like to retire.”
Charles cleared his throat. “Right,” he said, lifting his head. “I will hold my tongue and not say anything about you breaking curfew, Kelia, if you attend the Autumn Festival with me.”
Kelia nearly roared with frustration. The fact Charles had the gall to even request such a thing showed just what kind of nerve he had, which was ironic since he seemed more comfortable with strategizing and tactics than confrontation. Although, the more Kelia thought about it, the more she realized that this was strategy, that this was a brilliant tactic to get her to accompany him to this festival because it would mark her as his, even if she wanted nothing to do with him.
She had to admit, it was as brilliant as it was revolting.
“All right, Charles,” she said slowly. “In exchange for your secrecy, I will attend the Festival with you.”
She wanted to hit him. She wanted to scream. She wanted to punch him in the face the same way she punched Drew Knight, though she had the feeling that it would be much more satisfying to do so to Charles right now than to Drew Knight, and that was saying something.
Charles opened his mouth, a smile on his face, but Kelia cut him off by spinning toward the staircase. “Now, if you don’t mind, I must retire for the evening,” she said before heading up the stairs.
Her heart raced as she turned at the top of the staircase and strode down the hallway. When she reached her room, she took out her key and slid it inside the lock. Kelia had always been cautious of her privacy and insisted that Jennifer could decorate the room and fill it with the strong scent of her candles and pick the bed she preferred as long as Jennifer promised to lock the door. For the most part, Jennifer did as asked, but there were times Kelia had to gently remind her.
“Key!” Jennifer exclaimed, sitting up in bed as Kelia walked through the door. There was one flickering candle that lit up the room, so the scent wasn’t domineering. “It’s late. I was worried!”
“You’re one to talk,” Kelia said as she walked across the room to open the window. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thank you,” Jennifer said with a smile. “You were right, of course. I removed my makeup, had myself a nice sleep, and when I awoke, I felt much better. Hungry, but better.”
“You’ve eaten?” Kelia asked over her shoulder before lifting the window up so a cool breeze could come into the room.
Jennifer nodded. “Thoroughly, but without overdoing it,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here. While you were out, a package was delivered to you.”
Kelia turned her head, her eyes narrowed in Jennifer’s direction. “A package?” she asked.
“One of the Sightless dropped it off,” Jennifer said, pointing to Kelia’s bed. “I had them place it on your bed. They said a handler told them to drop it off to you. Your father’s effects.”
Kelia’s eyes shot to her bed, and her heart stilled. They had cleaned out his room. They had cleaned out his room without asking her, without allowing her to go through it herself. Which meant they destroyed any evidence she might have had about what he could possibly want to talk to her about.
She hadn’t even thought to check! Her insides boiled with fury—at The Society as well as herself.
Tears blurred her vision as she tried not to think about the various things she had lost. Instead of immediately going through the box, Kelia forced herself to change out of her clothes and into a slip. She did need the sleep; these late nights were starting to take a toll on her.
When she moved in front of the divider, she fixed her skirts and padded over to her bed. She crawled between the covers, then took the small box in her hands. Except for a modest wardrobe and his own sword, he did not own much, but surely it was more than would fit in this box.
She glanced around the room, hoping she’d see more of his personal belongings. There was nothing. Not even his sword, which was an item traditionally passed down after the death of a parent. She did not see that sword anywhere; she wouldn’t be surprised if they destroyed it or kept the weapon for themselves. All they had left her was the contents inside this box.
Kelia took a breath, staring down at the unopened package while Jennifer began to talk about the Autumn Festival and how excited she was to see her fiancé. Kelia slowly lifted the lid. Aside from jewelry that had once belonged to her mother, there was nothing in the box save for one thing: an old copy of Moby Dick.
She nearly tossed it back into the box and closed the lid, but then decided she would read the book. A little each night. If her father had loved this book, it would be a way to connect with him now that he was gone.
Once Jennifer finally calmed and went to sleep, she opened to the first page and stayed up later than intended reading. But by time she reached the middle of the third chapter, she found the insides of the book had been gutted to make way for a small, brown, leather-bound journal.
Her eyes widened. She had no idea her father kept a journal. And clearly, Rycroft did not, either, or Kelia would not be holding it in her hands in this very moment. With a deep breath, she opened the book to the first page and began to read. This story was a bit different than Ahab’s obsessive quest for revenge on Moby Dick. She started with the most recent entries first, hoping to find some clue as to what he knew that got him killed.
* * *
September 2
I have stumbled upon more information completely by accident, information I cannot ignore. While doing my usual rounds, I heard a cry from the courtyard. The courtyard is forbidden, even to guards. However, I could not ignore the cry, so I left my post. Standing at the banister that overlooked the courtyard, I heard animalistic cries coming from the stables. They were not from the horses. In fact, I had not seen or heard the horses in ages…
I saw Rycroft and a few men next to a stable door, discussing something. And then, with my own two eyes, I saw something leap out and take a snap of the raw meat.
I nearly fell from where I stood. I cannot be sure due to the darkness, but it almost appeared as though it was a Shadow.
* * *
Kelia’s heart raced. She glanced over to Jennifer, who was still breathing peacefully in her sleep, blissfully unaware of Kelia’s father’s journal and the horrors it contained.
She read about her father discovering Infants in the stables, slaves kept nearby. She read about him overhearing conversations about how to train the Shadows, where to dispatch them. How they still searched for Knight because he had rebelled against those who created him, those who fed him.
* * *
September 17
Rycroft knows I know.
Surely I will be contracted to kill. He has sent Kelia on a mission that is certain to kill her, a way to warn me. If I could kill Rycroft myself, I would. Kelia is in grave danger because of what I’ve stumbled upon, I am sure of it. I need to tell her everything. When she gets back—and by the grace of God, I hope she does—I will tell her everything.
She must know, must be aware, before she chooses this life. The East India Company created monsters to control the seas. And now that Drew Knight is off on his own, Slayers have been created to sweep their mistake under the rug.
I just hope I am not too late.
* * *
Kelia swallowed, but her throat remained dry. That was the same day her father died.
&n
bsp; Her fingers trembled as she thumbed through the beginning of the journal. The entries were dated early last year, but then jumped to this year abruptly. Kelia pinched her eyebrows and lifted the journal. It was difficult to make out in the dim light, but there was a section missing. Either that, or he had been forced to stop writing for some reason.
Carefully setting the journal down on her nightstand, she took a breath. She placed a pillow over her face, biting back a scream.
Drew Knight was right. Again.
Chapter 16
Jennifer shook Kelia out of a dreamless sleep by hovering over her, a pitiful look in her dark brown eyes.
“Key,” she murmured, her voice tentative. “You have a guest downstairs.”
Kelia cracked open her eyes, unlocking her body with a long stretch. She was glad to see Jennifer up and moving, but she wondered if she had slept in or if someone was visiting her at some ungodly hour in the morning.
“Thanks,” Kelia murmured in a tired voice. She threw her legs over the bed and stood on shaky legs, trying to wake herself up, before heading to the wardrobe and throwing the doors open to see what she should wear today.
Who the heck was visiting her so early in the morning? Her hands trailed over the dresses as the thought went around and around in her head. Not only that, who would be visiting her at all? The only person she knew besides her father was Jennifer, and seeing that they shared a room, Jennifer certainly wouldn’t be considered a visitor.
She racked her brain as she settled on a simple midnight blue dress. She was still in mourning, and even though she could not wear black due to the official diagnosis of death, she tried to do what she could to let others know how she felt about the whole thing.
She pulled her hair back in a braid, but stray strands slipped through. Perhaps if she was going to engage in physical training she would fix it, but not to impress a mystery visitor. Her head was still swimming with everything she had learned from her father’s journal. Even more, she could not believe that The Society had been so careless, resulting in a Sightless giving her such a damning piece of evidence against them.
Kelia shook her head and took a breath. She poured herself a glass of water from the jug a Sightless left last night, then took a long sip in order to moisten her throat. Once she was done, she proceeded to head down to the foyer, where guests usually waited until they could be seen.
Carefully, she stepped down the staircase until her eyes landed on a familiar pair of midnight-blue eyes. It took everything in her to pretend she had no idea who Emma was. Instead, she assessed the slightly crowded foyer, pretending not to know who had come to see her. She clenched her jaw.
What the hell was she doing here?
Emma stood and came over to Kelia. “Ms. Starling?” she said. “Your father has told me so much about you. Do you think we could go somewhere quiet to talk?”
Kelia paused for a moment, taking Emma in. She wore a low-cut dress, her breasts pressed together with a tight corset. Her makeup was overdone, and her hair was fashioned up but left curly.
She was portraying herself as a whore. On purpose. Which meant she had been sent here on behalf of Drew Knight.
Kelia grinded her teeth. The least they could have done was make her look less conspicuous. How would it appear for her to be having a meeting with such a woman of the night?
Better than it would look to be meeting with the friend of a Sea Shadow, she supposed.
“Certainly,” Kelia managed to get out as she followed Emma outside of the fortress and into the surprisingly bright sun.
There was a cool breeze that touched Kelia’s golden strands of hair, mussing them up further despite the loose braid. Emma said nothing as she led Kelia away from the downtown district toward the familiar path to Drew Knight’s ship.
She stole a glance behind her to make sure no one was following them.
“You worry too much,” Emma said from ahead of her. “No one saw you leave.”
“But—”
“Magic, Ms. Sterling,” she said. “By the time the spell wears off, you will have already returned.”
Kelia hoped she was right, but something told her Emma didn’t care much about the consequences Kelia would face if Emma was wrong.
“What does he want with me?” Kelia asked as soon as they were not around people. Her eyes glanced around, taking in the tall trees painted against the blue sky. “It’s daytime.”
“Just after ten in the morning,” Emma told her, a small smile on her lips. “To be honest, I was surprised to find you sleeping when I made my appearance.”
“You risked a lot, coming to the fortress, you know,” Kelia told her, stomping over tall grass. If she had known Emma was going to lead her back to Drew Knight’s ship, she would have worn her boots rather than the flimsy slippers on her feet. She also had not brought her sword, and she felt naked without it. Not that she anticipated Drew Knight using her vulnerability to his advantage, but she liked to feel prepared. She liked to be prepared.
“I did,” Emma agreed, craning her neck to look back at the Slayer. “But I am also aware that Drew would not have asked me to fetch you if it was not important.”
Kelia scrunched her nose at the word fetch. Instead of informing her about the correct terminology to use when requesting Kelia’s presence on his ship, she asked a question she had been curious about for a while.
“What are you to him?”
Emma smirked, her perfectly painted lips pulling upward, though not enough to reach her eyes. “Are you jealous of my relationship with him, Slayer?”
Kelia snorted, rolling her eyes. She refused to even reply to such an assumption. Instead, she found herself walking with Emma in silence.
Did Drew somehow know she had possession of her father’s journal? If so, did he know what information her father had written in there? If not, she did not know why he would want to talk to her. She usually went to him after finding out some piece of the puzzle that he already seemed to know about.
Which made Kelia wonder if he had eyes in The Society. And if so, was he ever going to tell her something she hadn’t stumbled across herself?
By the time they reached the rowboat, the sun was high in the sky. Kelia rowed to the ship since she was starting to get used to it anyway, ignoring the sun beating down on them and appreciating the fact the water was still and smooth.
The moment they reached the ship, Emma was already standing and pulling herself up. She had the ease, balance, and grace of a dancer. Kelia could learn a lot from her, if she played her cards right.
Once Kelia was onboard, Drew Knight pushed off the helm, his eyes traveling up and down her body as though he were searching for something.
“What?” she asked when he had been silent for far too long. “What is it?”
“I feel as though the last time we were here, I was rather abrupt with you,” he began slowly. “I forget how much risk you are taking simply by associating with me. Each time you have discovered something, you bring the information directly to me. You could be followed. You could be caught. But still you take the risk.” He paused, his dark eyes focused on her with such brute intensity that it was all she could do not to step back. “I know you don’t do it for me; this is for your father, and that is perfectly acceptable and even admirable.”
“So you brought me here to tell me all of that?” Kelia asked quietly.
She didn’t know how she felt about that. By his own admission, every time he brought her here was a risk to her. Now only that, his proximity was making her feel uncomfortable and she didn’t know what to do about it other than retreat. But if she did, he would assume he intimidated her, and she did not want to give him that.
“I brought you here to ask how you’re doing,” Drew said in a soft voice. “I’m sure everyone is telling you how to feel, especially given the nature of how they are saying your father died. But no one has asked you how you are holding up. And I wanted to ask you myself.”
Without war
ning, tears started to accumulate in her eyes, and before Kelia knew it, before she could control herself, they started pouring out of her like a dam that was finally giving way. In that moment, she hated herself. She did not cry in front of people, especially not in front of Drew Knight, but she found she could not help it. His words rang true—no one had asked how she was doing. Everyone had told her how she was feeling. You’ve been through a lot. You must be hurting. I am so sorry you are going through this.
Drew furrowed his brow, and even stepped back, as if taken completely aback by her display. She could not blame him. Not when she looked so pitiful and so weak.
“Why, uh…” he began, tapping his chin with his fingers. “Why are you crying?”
Kelia threw her hands up. “I do not know,” she said with a sniff. “Not even once since I found out my father died have I cried. And now, and now…” She could not finish her own sentence because she was sobbing so hard. She could feel snot accumulating, and her eyes were tight and strained. She imagined she looked a mess right now, like a fool, like everything she detested in a person, but no matter how hard she tried to stop, she could not bring herself to do so.
“Stop that,” Drew said.
From the corner of her watery eyes, she saw him reach out, as though to pat her in an awkward show of affection, but he stopped short and pulled himself back.
She nearly snapped at him. “Do you think I want to be crying like this in front of you?” she asked through her tears. “You, out of all people?”
“People?” Drew asked. “I have not fallen in that category for a long time.” He paused, and she could feel his perplexed gaze. “Yet your current display is making me feel surprisingly human.”
Before Kelia could respond, he continued, “I’m sure you are getting ready for the Autumn Festival? It’s the one time of year The Society does not seem so strict and the one time matched Slayers can meet their intendeds.”
Sea of Darkness {Vampire Pirate Saga 1 Page 13