“We will only be here for two nights,” Drew said, his tone clipped. He thrust his hands behind his back and paced down the line of his crew, as though he was just about to lead them into battle. “Do what you must, but I expect you back on this ship by first light on the second night. I want to leave this place as quickly as possible, and anyone who hasn’t returned by then will be left behind. No exceptions.”
He knew that was a lie when he said it, but he needed everyone to realize the gravity of the situation.
He reached the women at the end of the line. Emma and Wendy had been here before. This speech was not for them. Daniella and Kelia, on the other hand, did not know of the dangers they faced simply by walking on this island as a human. He wanted them to be aware of that, to appreciate just how perilous this island was.
“Do not get in over your head.” His eyes flickered to Daniella, her frizzy curls pinned up. “Do not explore this island on your own.” He let his gaze linger on Kelia now. “Even during the day, this place is filled with things you cannot begin to fathom. Every choice you make could produce a consequence you are not quite aware of. Do not take for granted the power that you have. Always be responsible for yourself and the company you choose to keep.”
Drew watched Kelia swallow, which seemed like acquiesce to his order. Except, the order was not meant for her.
Still, he leveled his gaze at her, lowered his voice, and said, “Do not leave this ship without my permission.”
Then, to the rest of the crew, he ordered, “Prepare for docking!”
The crew disassembled to do just that, while Kelia seemed to still be staring at him with an unspoken question in her gaze that he was certain he did not want to hear.
“Feels like it’s going to be a warm night,” Wendy said, tilting her head to the sky. “Excuse me while I change.”
“I want to get new shoes,” Daniella said, standing up from her kneeling position.
“Don’t go on the island without me,” Christopher drawled, his slate-blue eyes watching as his wife and her apprentice retreated to her room.
“Darling, you forget,” Wendy called over her shoulder with a smile. “You have never been here before. I have!”
Christopher chuckled, shaking his head. Upon seeing Drew’s unflinching look, Christopher cut his laughter off with a cough and nodded.
“I’ll go help the crew,” he said.
“Considering you are a member of this crew, regardless of your relationship with my sister, that would be a good idea,” Drew said.
Kelia turned and started to head out, probably to do her part of the ship. She always behaved as if a member of this crew herself and seemed to feel uncomfortable if he ever singled her out or gave her preferential treatment.
His comment earlier probably did not help. And yet, even now, he could not help but stop her.
“Wait.” His voice was soft, and he shot out his hand to grip her wrist gently, making sure she stayed put. Making sure he had some kind of excuse to let his fingertips linger on her skin.
Her pulse jumped against her wrist. Under normal circumstances, Drew would be amused by this reaction to him. They had known each other for months now, and she was still nervous around him. But it was more than that. There was something he could only describe as heavy hanging between them, making it difficult to breathe. Even touching her, even feeling her warmth, made him hesitate. And yet he couldn’t not touch her. It was something he simply had to do to feel good. Nothing else affected him the way she did. Not anymore.
Kelia lifted her gaze from the wooden deck. When her ocean-green eyes met his, something was there. He had been alive for a century, and he had never seen eyes like hers. They were bewitching him like sea songs, yet there was a part of him that worried she would jump out and betray him, to rip his throat out the way those beasts did to unsuspecting sailors.
But she never did. Deep down, he knew she never would. Yet he still hesitated.
“Yes?” she asked.
The question was small, her eyes curious. There was something vulnerable in her ignorance. Or maybe that was what he told himself. It was a reason to think he had a right to protect her when he knew he did not. Kelia could more than protect herself. That much was certain. She had saved his life on that island.
She had saved his life.
It was a fact he still could not get over.
“What I said back there,” he started, wanting to apologize for it. For telling her what she could and could not do. Instead, he said, “I meant it. You are not to leave here without me.”
What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like a mad man.
He swallowed. His fingers were still locked around her wrist, though it was a gentle grip rather than a tight one.
“What I mean is, I’d appreciate having you by my side when I need you,” he lied. Of course that wasn’t what he meant. What he meant was, I’m risking everything for you. I can’t afford to lose you. Stay safe. “Stay where I can find you at all times, Slayer.”
Why did he still call her that? She was most definitely not a Slayer anymore, and yet, he could not bring himself to call her anything else. Every once in a while, darling might slip out, but even then, the word did not suit her. She was more than a simple term of endearment. She was more than a word could adequately describe. And he did not know how to feel about that.
Kelia heaved a sigh and shifted her weight.
“All right,” she said. She tossed her newly-braided hair over her slender shoulder and looked away.
Drew’s lips curled into a grin, and he dropped her hand. This was much better. This was where he felt more comfortable; when they were not physically connected, when she was not looking at him with such penetrating eyes, when their secrets were still unspoken but fully on display.
He could hide nothing from her. It was a contradiction; he did not understand how she could make him feel both fearful and safe at the same time, but she could. Kelia had a strange, mystical power that seemed to only affect him. When he teased her, when he riled her up, there was a safe distance placed between them. A distraction, certainly, but it was enough to keep these unwelcome feelings at bay.
At least, for now.
“The Island of the Damned is not the place for a young woman of your ilk,” he reminded her, faking a teasing tone.
She crossed her arms over her chest, defiance thrumming from her body. “I still do not know what that means.”
“It means you are beautiful.” He could not stop the words from coming out if he tried. He hated himself for it. He swallowed and dropped his gaze. He wasn’t ready to see how she would react to his own honesty. “It means, unfortunately, that when men see a pretty thing, they want to possess it, to own it.”
“And you think I am responsible for men and their actions?” She caught his eye once more and there was a resilient spark in them. Drew could not help but admire her stubbornness. “You think I should change how I move through this world because of how others might react?”
He shook his head. “Of course not. It’s not your responsibility how men choose to behave. I suppose all I am saying is...”
Why was it so hard to just say the words? Why could he not get them out of his mouth when other things like remarking on her beauty was seemingly so easy?
“Do not worry, Drew,” she told him. Her lips slid into a grin. “I have my trusted blade.” She touched her right hip with her left hand. “I know how to protect myself.”
“I know you do.”
“Then you should not worry when I set off to explore. Be it with you, or my friends. Or alone.”
Was the woman trying to test his resolve? Why would she even say that? What purpose could there possibly be for her to head off alone?
She seemed to still, her expression shifting to one of concern, judging by the furrowed brow, the wrinkled nose. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her blade as if she was rooting herself in place.
“What is it, Drew?” she asked. “I
was only joking, you know.”
Drew didn’t understand what was happening to himself at this very moment, let alone what Kelia would do once they arrived on the island. Drew Knight was never speechless unless he was eating or drinking. He felt discombobulated, not having a handle on his mouth, on the words that seemed to escape the confines of his brain whenever he was around her now.
He wanted to tell her that while he knew she was fully capable and he trusted her with his life, if anything happened to her, he would rip whoever hurt her into tiny ribbons of flesh before clawing out their innards and painting his deck with their blood. That if he ever lost her, if something ever happened to her, he would not know what to do with himself anymore. That his life would have lost the purpose he didn’t even know it had before he’d met her.
What he didn’t want, however, was to ruin their friendship. As it were, confessing his feelings bordered romantic could very possibly do such a thing. Hell, he was not even certain what those feelings really meant.
There had been that kiss—that one kiss back in Port George—but they’d never spoken of it after, never asked one another what it meant. Drew knew what it meant to him, but to Kelia, perhaps it was just the impulse of a young woman who thought she was about to die. If he told her how he really felt about that kiss, it could ruin everything.
For now, Drew didn’t care if he had Kelia’s romantic interests. He just cared that she was alive—and that she stayed that way.
“Drew?” she repeated. “You don’t look well at all.”
He shook his head as if it would chase away the haunting feelings. “I’m fine.” He forced a smile. “Just need to feed. And you’re quite right, of course, darling. Just be careful, aye?”
She stared at him as though he had grown a second head.
“All right, Drew,” she murmured before turning and heading to prepare for land.
Drew let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. She would be the second death of him.
If Emma’s predictions were correct, quite literally.
Chapter 6
Kelia could still feel Drew’s fingers on her wrist even hours after he had released her. She needed to push that from her mind, however. Needed to focus on this new place. The Island of the Damned. If it was as dangerous as Drew claimed, she didn’t want to be left defenseless.
After she finished brushing her hair, she started to braid the locks back into place. Thank goodness she was alone in the small room. She needed time to adjust accordingly, to relax. It was difficult to do so, with Drew’s touch lingering on her skin. She shook head and placed her hand on her stomach. Was the nausea because of Drew, or because of her time on the ship?
Since she’d recently taken Emma’s concoction, she couldn’t take again, which would have been fine if she remained on the ship, but because she would be on a boat filled with people of varying weights, it increased her chances of the boat tipping over. Her palms clammed up and she tried to take deep, even breaths as she finished her hair.
When she was done, Kelia wiped her hands on her breeches and headed back out on deck. Already, the crew of the Wraith was rowing to the docks in small boats.
Because Drew’s ship was well-known, and because there were supernaturals—Shadows, especially—who would betray him in the blink of an eye, it was decided the best thing would be to dock the ship a distance away, where it would be hidden among the jagged rocks and the tall cliff. This would obscure it from the line of vision of those at the port.
Kelia descended the side of the ship where there was a ladder made solely of rope. She reached her foot out until someone grabbed her calf and helped ease her into the small row boat.
“There you are, Slayer.” Christopher gave her a grin, one she could not help but return.
There was something different about the way Christopher said Slayer compared to Drew. With Drew, it felt almost intimate, something a lover would say. With Christopher, it felt as though he were teasing a friend.
“Here I am, Infant,” she teased back.
He was so different now that he had Wendy back. He looked lighter, happier. It did not seem to matter that he was a beast and his wife was a witch. They would both love forever.
The entire exchange felt...nice. As though she was part of a family, almost. A different one, certainly, but a family nonetheless.
Drew Knight was the last person to get onto their boat. There was a stoic look on his chiseled face, one that brought his eyebrows low over his dark eyes. His body was rigid, as though he was expecting someone or something to attempt to knock him over and needed to ensure his weight was properly distributed and could absorb the blow. It was as though he was planning to go into battle.
Kelia kept standing as everyone else sat. Crammed so closely together, she needed air. Sitting would cause her nausea to flair. It was easier to endure the ride when she was the only person, as she had months ago, rowing to Drew’s ship off the coast of Port George. With others, she felt like a school of fish. She did not want to get swept away.
Drew did not sit either. Instead, his gaze cut toward the island that was looming ever closer. The fog made the island appear more ominous than it probably was. Despite the warm night, a chill iced down Kelia’s spine.
A soft sound tickled Kelia’s ears. It was quiet at first, but grew louder as they closed in on the island. It sounded like...Was that singing?
Kelia closed her eyes to focus on what she was hearing. She had been out at sea more times than she could remember, and in all of her experience, she had never heard the Siren’s call. She had been warned about it certainly. A Siren had killed her mother when she was with her father, who had been dispatched to a carry out a mission.
What that mission was, Kelia did not ask. It was difficult for him to even recount what happened to her. Not because she, at the time, was a mere girl with only three years on this planet, but because her father blamed himself for his wife’s death.
Kelia never asked again about her mother's death, and he never volunteered any information, but she never forgot sea witches were responsible for her mother being taken from her so soon.
The song, the melody, was familiar, yet strange, emitting from the water. It was haunting, wrapping its slippery arms around Kelia and pulling her down so she found herself kneeling in the boat. She did not kneel. She did not have the inclination to do such things. Yet here she was, voluntarily squatting.
Her hands found the edge of the boat on their own accord. Such a strange feeling. She was conscious of her body moving, but it almost felt as though she was on the outside of herself looking in. She tried to tell herself to stop, to stand up, to back away. She could hear it in her head, and yet, she could not bring herself to do it.
It didn’t matter anyway.
The more Kelia thought about it, the more she found she did not want to back away from the edge of the boat. If anything, she wanted to get closer to the water. She wanted to hear the melody better. If she could just hear it more clearly, if she could just get closer to it, she would be able to figure out where she had heard it from, why it sounded so familiar to her.
She stretched out her torso. She could see her reflection on the surface of the smooth ocean.
The smooth ocean?
How could the ocean, always in motion, always rolling its waves, be so still and clear?
This must be some kind of magic.
And yet, even then, even with that knowledge that this could very well be a trick, Kelia wanted to get closer to the song.
Closer and closer.
Closer—
“Kelia, no!”
Something whipped up from the ocean. Sea water splashed on the occupants of the boat sitting portside—Kelia most of all. Without warning, the thing reached up and pulled Kelia under the water. She didn’t even have time to catch her breath before the water slapped her in the face.
It took a moment to feel how cold it was, but when she did, her entire body tensed. She tried to
fight against the sea demon’s grasp on her torso, but its grip was too strong. Though Kelia could not see the face, she was certain it was a Siren, and she had just fallen for its most obvious attack.
How could she be so stupid?
She needed to get out of here. She needed to break the surface and breathe. And she couldn’t do that if she was thrashing around.
Something pressed against her leg, and she stiffened. She felt the Siren’s grip on her tighten. Would the witch suffocate her before tearing out her throat? She knew nothing of Sirens save that they were demons cursed to the sea; she did not know how they killed or how to defend herself against them.
But she still had her blade. If she could just reach it…
“You better not kill that one.” A low voice pierced the water, and Kelia stopped her reach to look to the side.
Long, inky black hair. Seaweed green eyes. A voluptuous body that ended at the hips, where a slew of scales in a magenta color formed instead of legs.
“The Queen wants that one.”
The Queen? Certainly she could not be speaking of—
“Is that the one Drew Knight is enamored of?” This Siren had a lighter voice, innocent, like a child. Her white-blonde hair was braided intricately back from her face, and her slate-blue eyes danced with amusement. “I have only heard the rumors. I’m disappointed. She’s not very beautiful, is she?”
“She’s human.” This voice—raw, powerful—came from behind Kelia. “You cannot expect her to look the way we do.”
“Even the Queen is more beautiful,” the blonde pointed out. “What would Drew Knight want with this thing? So young. Such inexperience.”
“She looks vaguely familiar,” the black-haired beauty said. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, the water tugging and pulling at the strands. However, she still looked graceful rather than wicked. “Have we encountered her before, Kyra?”
“She has a familiar scent,” the one behind Kelia murmured. “If I tasted her blood—”
“That would be a violation of the Queen’s orders,” the blonde snapped, twirling a stray strand from her braid around her finger.
Gift of Darkness: Book 3 in The Vampire Pirate Saga Page 5