Sea of Darkness {Vampire Pirate Saga 1

by Isadora Brown

  That girl was too stubborn for her own good.

  “I have news,” a voice murmured from beside Drew.

  Drew was surprised to see Emma standing beside him, clothed in a flattering crimson-colored dress, her hair curled and pinned to the top of her head. It was clear she had just gotten in from town. Her favorite disguise was to be a whore; people always talked to the whores more than they talked to anyone else. For her to report that she had news must be serious.

  In fact, as Drew studied his long-time companion, he realized he would not like the news. Her forehead was pinched and her lips were tight. Other than that, there was not clear tension in her body, but that was because she was masking it.

  For his sake.

  Which meant this had to do with Kelia.

  “Tell me,” Drew said, crossing his arms over his chest. He squeezed his skin, hoping to focus on Emma, trying to control his reaction.

  “It is not good, Drew,” she said in a low voice, keeping her eyes focused on the sea in front of her. “She was punished. Again. Fifteen more lashes.”

  Drew clenched his teeth together so hard they nearly popped. “Why would they administer fifteen more lashes?” he asked. His tone was nearly feral, and he could feel his fangs forcing themselves out of his mouth as though they itched to rip into supple flesh.

  He had just fed an hour ago, a pretty prostitute who would not remember anything save for the bodily pleasure they both partook in. He could not even remember her name. He could feel adrenaline coursing through his body, a sense of renewal, a sense of uncontrollable power sizzling at his fingertips.

  “From what I hear,” Emma said, each word sharp and distinct, “it is because Christopher escaped from what was supposed to be a silver-infused cell. They assumed Kelia helped spring him free since she is not affected by silver and she has the skill to pick locks.”

  Drew ran his hand down his face and let out a grunt. “How can she even stand on her own two feet after the first ten lashes, let alone free anyone?” he let out, his frustration overtaking his voice. “Why would Kelia free an Infant when there was no established relationship between them that The Society knows of, save for the fact she was the one who captured him in the first place.”

  “I am not the correct person to ask,” Emma said in a calm voice, but her eyes were sharp. “I am just telling you what I have picked up in town.”

  Drew’s nails dug into his palms as he stared in front of him. He could feel sprinkles of rain on his face every now and then. The waves had not calmed down since his conversation with Christopher a couple of days before, and it did not appear as though they would anytime soon.

  “I need to go to her,” Drew said. Each word was strained, as though it took a great effort for him to admit such a thing in the first place.

  And it was difficult. It was difficult for him to admit it to himself the first time. In all honesty, he had hoped he would not have to. It was a secret he was fine to keep, even if it had been hinted at with Christopher. He did not like the fact he was tied to Kelia in a way he had not expected. As though she was not just a mere tool he needed for his own gain. She was more to him.

  How much more, he did not want to think about.

  “I had a feeling you might say that.” Emma’s lips curled up with a subtle hint of approval. She reached into her long overcoat and pulled out a vial. “I take it you still have some of the balm left, correct? You would not leave her the jar.”

  Drew shook his head. “I did not want to risk anyone finding it and putting it together I had helped her,” he said. “Although, if what you are saying is true, they already assume she still has ties to the Shadows by freeing Christopher from his cell.”

  “The cells aren’t really silver, though, are they?” Emma asked, quirking a brow.

  Drew nearly snorted. “Of course not,” he said. “Even the East India Company would not invest so much into a cell of silver. Not when they have other ways of controlling us.” He paused. “However, sea witches create a certain type of gel that inhibits Shadows. Touching it burns but it does not harm.” He smirked when he saw Emma’s flick of her wrist and roll of her eyes; a subtle way for her to dismiss sirens and their abilities. “The rivalry between sea and earth witches continues, eh?” Shaking his head, his smile slowly disappeared, his thoughts on Kelia resuming. “The jar is in my quarters. I have a good portion still left.” His eyes dropped to the vial. “What is that?”

  “It’s for infection,” she explained, placing the transparent object in Drew’s hand. “It’s essentially wine with healing elements. If she does have an infection, it will kill if off—as long as she drinks it in time. If she does not have an infection, it will prevent one.”

  Drew nodded. “Thank you,” he said, his tone sincere.

  “Make sure she drinks every drop,” Emma told him. “I brewed this myself.”

  Drew’s lips curled up into what could only be labeled as a grimace, even though the effort to smile was there. “Thank you,” he said. And he meant it. “I worry, Emma. With Christopher escaped, I believe there might be more obstacles preventing me from reaching her.”

  “Obstacles have never stopped you before, Drew,” Emma pointed out. “You will take the risk, because Kelia is important to you.”

  Drew said nothing, but he nodded his acknowledgment. He placed the vial in his pocket and without another word, he vanished into the night.

  * * *

  ---

  Even though Drew had the ability to see in the blackest of nights, the first thing that told him of Kelia’s pain was her ragged breathing. It was difficult for her to take a breath, he could tell. Silently, he made his way to her cell door.

  He was not surprised to see a guard walking up and down the hallway in front of the cell. He waited at the corner of the staircase before grabbing one nearest him, throwing his hand over the guard’s mouth to keep him from screaming, and pressed down hard on his temples. The guard immediately buckled underneath himself and fell flat on the floor, unconscious for the time being.

  When he finally made it to her cell, he was instantly hit with the smell of her infection, and he could not help but cringe. He hated himself in that instant. He had done a lot of things in his long life that could warrant such a reaction. He had killed. He had tortured. He had plundered and stolen. Those things never caused him to go to bed with a heavy conscious. This, however, would haunt his dreams, even if he managed to right the wrongs he had bestowed upon Kelia Starling.

  It did not take him long to pick the pathetic lock that hung from her cell door. Rycroft might have punished her for Christopher’s disappearance, but he did not seem to care one way or the other about locking her up with more precision, even an extra lock or two.

  Somehow, Rycroft did not take her seriously. Even though Rycroft knew Christopher escaped without her help, he still chose to punish her. He needed an example, a reason to hide what a fucking fool he was, and he decided the best thing to do was blame Kelia. Her Society now shunned her. If they allowed her to be rehabilitated, it would be a miracle.

  When the lock clicked open, Drew slid into the cell. He could tell she was sleeping—that, or she was unconscious. Every now and then, he would hear a pitiful whimper, as though she had fallen to sleep crying and she was still crying even in her sleep. He rubbed his lips together as his heart tightened.

  How odd. He rarely felt things in his heart anymore.

  But guilt did odd things to a body, even a beast’s body.

  Her light snoring from inside the cell carried across the walls, and a small smile touched his face. There was part of Drew that did not wish to wake her. Once he did, she would be reacquainted with the pain she so desperately tried to avoid. At least, he assumed she would have. But he needed her awake to take the potion Emma concocted, and he could not wait a moment longer.

  When he got closer to her, he realized just how bad it had become. Her hair was matted to her face, cold sweat on her skin. Yet her body was shaking, as
though it could not rid itself of the cold that had overtaken it.

  He was worried he might have to force her to take his blood—or, if she lost too much and there was a chance she would not be able to survive, he would have to turn her.

  It would be that, or let her die.

  He had not even considered turning her into something she clearly despised. What kind of life would he force her into if he did that? She couldn’t stay here if he did that. She would never find the answers she was seeking. If he was going to take that from her, he could have done so the first time he’d come to visit her. He could have forced her to leave this place.

  Turning her, though, would be even worse than that.

  His entire body was tense, worried when the guard might wake. His ears were sharper than even the best human, so he knew he would be warned of the guard regaining consciousness, but by then it might still be too late.

  Still he refused to rush, refused to leave this moment just yet.

  Even the heavy scent of her blood did not tempt him to taste her—not the first time he had come to her cell, and not now. He fed when he needed to, which was sporadically. Because of his advances, he did not need to eat as often as his younger counterparts, but he still faltered when he smelled blood. Especially blood as untainted and as pure as Kelia’s. But he could not bring himself to look at her in that way.

  She was his…his…what? Friend wasn’t the right word. He did not know if they knew each other well enough to like each other. But he respected her. He trusted her. He cared for her. And perhaps he liked her a little bit. To see her as food would be to turn her into an object for his pleasure. And he could not find it in him to do such a thing. There were women who filled that carnal need for him. Kelia was not one of them.

  That did not mean he didn’t consider her beautiful. She was, and he found the more time he spent with her, the more beautiful she became. He desired her, but not with a desperate need.

  “Kelia,” he said in a quiet voice. He only had a few minutes before the guard woke up, and then he would have to make him forget Drew was even down there in the first place. He could blend in with the blackness if he needed to. “Kelia, you must wake up.”

  It took fifteen minutes before she made a noise that indicated she was starting to regain consciousness. Drew did not consider himself as easily scared, but the fact Kelia wasn’t immediately responsive made his heart stop momentarily.

  When she finally managed to open her eyes, he could not help but allow a telling smile onto his face. He was relieved. He wanted to drop to his knees and thank the good Lord she was all right.

  “You have the most beautiful smile.” Kelia’s eyes fell closed as if she was unable to hold them open. “It makes the moon and the stars seem dim in comparison.”

  Drew blinked in both surprise and amusement. “I believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” she mumbled.

  “I need you to drink something, princess,” he said.

  “What is it?” She stirred a little, then grimaced as if even such a small movement caused unbearable pain. Drew had no doubt that was the case. “It’s not rum, is it? I know you pirates like your rum.”

  “Pirate, ay?” he asked. “And here I thought you saw me as nothing more than a Sea Shadow.”

  Kelia didn’t respond. Her eyes had grown hazy. Whether it was because she was deep in thought or because the infection was getting to her, he did not know. Instead, he forced his grin to deepen and helped her sit up. When she hissed in pain, he slowed his movements. He could feel the heat radiating from her body. She was too hot. She needed to cool down.

  “Come on now, darling,” he soothingly coaxed. He rested her head against his shoulder, doing his best to make sure the opened wounds on her back did not encounter him only to prevent further exposure to infection. “Drink this. Please. For ol’ Drew.”

  “You never say please unless you’re serious,” Kelia said. “And your shoulder isn’t as strong as I thought it would be.” She shifted underneath her weight. “All right, all right.”

  Drew bit back another amused grin. He needed to get her drunk one of these days, just to see how she would act.

  Perhaps now was not the best time to think of such things. Perhaps he was simply trying to distract himself so he would not have to worry about the dire consequences of what had happened to her. Of what could still happen to her.

  Kelia drank the liquid all the way down. He did not have to force her. When she finished, she handed him back the vial, which he pocketed. He didn’t need Rycroft or anyone from The Society knowing she had help in her recovery.

  “You should start to feel better,” Drew said in a low voice. “I have to clean your wounds now, Kelia. It’s going to hurt terribly. But I need you to do everything in your power not to scream. Bite down on your clothing, if you must, but your silence is critical. There’s a good chance no one will be able to hear you, but it is absolutely necessary that we do not risk it. The guard I incapacitated could wake at any moment. Do you understand?”

  Kelia nodded. Her eyelids drooped, and he wondered if she might slip back into an unconscious state before he got much else done for her.

  Gently, Drew eased her back on her chest, then made sure she was biting down on something. He hoped the healing properties would help with the pain.

  He took out a bottle of rum from inside his overcoat and a clean wash rag. He swished the rag in rum and murmured a gentle warning before placing the rag on the wounds. Even with a ball of her sleeve in her mouth, Kelia let out a wretched cry of pain. Drew tried to clean her up as fast as he could, but it didn’t seem fast enough. By the time he finished, Kelia had tears running down her face, and her entire body was shaking.

  He said nothing when he pulled out the jar of balm, nothing as he began to massage it into her back. They were silent, save for the soft whimpers coming from Kelia. He was surprised she had stayed awake through it all.

  When he finished, he allowed his hands to linger on her back. He felt his blood burn at the angry red lines that currently littered her back, but he controlled his anger as best as he could. He did not want to leave her.

  “Come with me,” he tried again, his eyes crawling up the slope of her neck to her red profile. “Let me take you away from this miserable life.”

  Kelia grinned. “Are you worried you’ll never see me again once you leave, Drew Knight?” she asked. She breathed in deeply. In a quieter, more somber voice, she murmured, “I cannot go. Not until this is solved.”

  “I’ll take you anyway,” he said.

  But Kelia didn’t buy into it. “No, you won’t,” she said. “Because you know I would just come back here the first chance I got, even if it might mean my certain death.”

  Damn it to hell, he knew she spoke the truth. He could not force her away.

  “You will see me again, Slayer,” he told her, his voice emphasizing how serious he was. “I do have a favor to cash in, after all.”

  And with that, he took a moment to steal the memories of the guard before he swept away into the night, each step creating not only more distance between them, but also a deeper ache in his heart.

  For the first time in as long as Drew could remember, he felt…afraid.

  Chapter 30

  Cold water hit Kelia like a burst of icy wind, causing her back to scream in pain. Her entire body seized with a spasm, and she tensed, trying to muffle any other cries. She hadn’t realized she could endure so much and still be alive, but it would seem that she had that ability, and the realization made her stronger and more stubborn.

  If she would do anything, it would be to survive. She could at least do that much.

  “Get up,” a voice muttered. It was a voice unfamiliar to her. One she was surprised to hear in her cell due to how feminine it sounded.

  Kelia opened her mouth, ready to give her a retort about how she could barely move, let alone actually stand up, but she bit it back
. She would not admit her weakness if she could help it. Instead, she would take in a deep breath and try. Because that was all she could do.

  She pressed her palms flat against the cell floor before pushing herself into a standing position. It took longer than she wanted it to, but she was afraid if she pushed herself, she would cause the scabs in her back to split open and start bleeding once more. When she finally was able to stand on her own two feet, she immediately had to reach out and hold herself up using the nearby cell wall.

  Her shoulders hunched over, and every inch of her back screamed in protest. She could not sustain this position for too long. She already wanted to collapse. She didn’t think she would have a choice if she continued to hold this position.

  Her eyes found the wretch who spilled cold water on her. She was a young woman, possibly two or three years older than Kelia, with stringy wheat-colored hair and cold blue eyes. For a second, Kelia could swear she saw a flash of sympathy in her gaze, but it disappeared into ice as quickly as it had come.

  “You are to be sent to our rehabilitation facility.” She glanced at the bucket that was now empty by her feet. “I…” She seemed like she was going to say something, something akin to an apology. But something stopped her, and she grew hard once again. “My name is Abigail. I will be your handler.”

  “My handler?” Kelia asked, confusion overriding her pain, at least for now. “And Rycroft…?”

  “Rycroft is no one to you now,” Abigail told her. “Not until you’ve completed your rehabilitation successfully. As I have. As few others have before you.”

  Kelia pressed her lips together, wincing at how chapped they were. This woman before her might only be in her mid-twenties, but Kelia could not help but feel as though she had this strength about her, that she had endured so much and came out stronger for it.