The voices were starting to sound farther away, but Kelia could still see the beings were close. Her vision dimmed, and she felt herself getting lightheaded. But still she strained to pay attention to the words coming out of their mouths. Something about the Queen...
Her mind was getting fuzzy.
“She’s a Starling.”
Kelia’s consciousness snapped back. The Siren behind her moved, and suddenly, a face pressed against her cheek as bubbles formed nearby. She was being sniffed.
“Jessa’s daughter.”
My mom?
How did they know her name? They’d killed her. Surely they hadn’t spoken to her first?
“Can’t be,” the blonde said with a sneer. “Kyra, you fool.”
“If you don’t believe me, smell her for yourself, Elise.”
Elise stiffened. “You’re certain?”
“I am. Should we bring her to the Queen? I’m sure she would love to be reunited with her daughter.”
“The Queen doesn’t know about Jessa. We cannot take this one to her.”
Her throat screamed. Pressure trembled through her head, her eyeballs, her neck. She needed to get away, to get air, but she wanted to listen a little longer, just a little longer—
A loud pop, like the crack of a whip, echoed around them. The Sirens screeched. Kelia tried to reach up and clamp her hands over her ears. Protecting them somehow seemed more important than getting air.
But she was wrong. She was starting to lose consciousness.
The Siren holding Kelia let out a piercing scream as she released her hold. A hand shot through the water and grabbed Kelia’s arm; moments later, her head broke the surface of the ocean, and suddenly, she could breathe again. Drew’s grip on her tightened as he pulled her back aboard.
It took a moment before Kelia realized what happened. She felt like a fish out of water, trying to suck down air, and even though there was an abundance of it, she had difficulty keeping it. Her stomach churned, and she flipped, pushing herself up so she could wretch in the boat. She did not dare try to lean over again.
“What in the bloody hell were you thinking?” Drew bellowed from behind her as she continued to hack up her stomach. The insides of her throat burned as breakfast came back up and out of her mouth. She barely heard what Drew was saying, but she knew he was angry with her. “Leaning over the side of the ship. Are you daft? What did you think was going to happen?”
“We knew nothing of Sirens,” a voice said in response. Kelia could still be imagining things—the voices sounded distant and foggy—but she could swear it was Daniella defending her. “The Society told us nothing.”
“Don’t defend her,” Drew growled. “She knows Sirens exist. She remembers who killed her mother.”
“That doesn’t mean she knew they were here,” Daniella pointed out. “It’s not like you warned us about their songs. Maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in thought, you would have been looking toward your crew, directing them on their rowing, and you would have seen Kelia get snatched.”
“If you saw her get taken, why did you do nothing, then?” Drew asked, whirling toward her. “Were you just sitting there frightened, waiting for the grown ups to intervene?”
Kelia didn’t yet have the energy to tell them they were both wrong. To tell them that yes, she’d known better, but no, she wasn’t daft. They’d had her under a spell.
“I told Wendy to give her more oxygen while I came to you,” Daniella said. She sounded both worried and defensive, as though whatever she did see had scared her. “I don’t know if it worked, but again, what would you have had me do? Jump to my death along with her? If I’d done that, you’d not have realized either of us were missing until you reached shore!”
Kelia flickered her gaze upward, still breathless but not hacking anything else up.
“Turn around now.” Drew’s eyes, a ferocious brown, narrowed at her. “On the ship, in my quarters, at once.” He turned to Christopher. “Everyone else is to go to land, as planned. I will be there later to order supplies. Make sure Gary knows I’m coming.”
Christopher nodded as everyone rowed back to the ship.
Kelia’s cheeks burned. She had never been so embarrassed in her life. She could not meet anyone’s eye, not even as Wendy helped her up and Emma wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. She didn’t realize she was cold until she was sitting in the boat, the shawl tightly wrapped around her frame.
Drew was silent as they reached the ship and headed up the ladder of the ship. Kelia followed him, but it took her longer to reach the deck due to her frigid, exhausted body. Suddenly, she had no desire to go to land, even if it would alleviate her stomach. All she wanted to do was crawl into her cot and sleep. Perhaps, after that, she would let her mind explore what she had just found out.
Or, at least, what it sounded as though she had just found out. If she’d understood the conversation correctly, it sounded as though her mother was still alive.
Could that really be possible?
But if she was, then she must be a prisoner, and that didn’t make sense, did it? Why would the Sirens keep her alive? And why would they not tell the Queen?
Drew growled. “Are you even listening to me?”
Kelia stepped onto deck and nearly ran into him. He glared, nostrils flaring. How dare he be angry at her!
“What the hell is your problem?” she shouted, her blood boiling and heating away the chill she’d felt just minutes earlier.
Drew blinked, and Kelia found herself looking away. It was not respectful for her to yell at her captain this way, even if she was in the right. However, she didn’t appreciate how he was speaking to her about something that was hardly her fault.
“My problem?” He clenched his teeth so tightly that his jaw popped. “My problem is that you do not recognize your value.”
He glanced to his right, and it was only then that Kelia realized there were a couple of Shadows left on board to watch over the ship. He clenched his teeth as if to refrain from saying anything more, grabbed her arm roughly, and pulled her to his quarters. She stumbled to keep up with him, the shawl dropping off one shoulder.
He slammed the door behind them.
“What?” Kelia asked, glancing around the dark room.
Drew stalked over to his desk, then pulled out a match and lit a candle sitting on the corner of the wood. It was relatively new; Kelia wondered if he had used it specifically for her benefit since he really didn’t need it with his Shadow senses providing great night vision.
“What do you mean, what?” he asked. “You are going to change into warm clothing. And then, you will stay on this ship. Do you understand? You will not leave. No matter what.”
“Drew—”
“Captain,” he snapped. “This is not up for argument. You will stay here. That is an order.”
Then, with superhuman speed, he left the quarters and slammed the door shut behind him.
Kelia pressed her ear against the door, trying to hear what was going on outside. Whatever it was could not be good.
Chapter 7
Kelia paced the length of Drew Knight’s quarters. The candle he’d lit did little to illuminate the room. Soon, the cold took over, and her entire body shook from the chills.
She stopped pacing and knelt in front of Drew’s trunks to search inside for something dry to wear. While he was not organized, his clothes were still divided based on type, and they were remarkably clean for a Shadow who feasted on blood and sailed the Seven Seas as a pirate.
She chose a gentle white tunic and black breeches. Her braid was damp, and she dreaded when she would have to attempt to run a brush through her hair again. For now, she would think no more of that. She needed to get warm, and she needed to figure out just what the hell Drew was doing, grounding her to his room.
Clearly, he believed it was not safe on the island, but why would he allow her to accompany him on a raid and not retrieve supplies while there? Did he believe she was incapable of
holding her own? Was this form of protection his way of telling her he did not think she was skilled enough to assist him if he needed it?
Once she’d changed into dry clothes that hung on her body like a sack, she strode over to the door and yanked on the knob. The door didn’t budge.
Did he…?
She laughed, shaking her head.
The bastard locked her in! Had he forgotten her lock-picking skills? She would not be surprised if this were the case. Drew was good at remembering things he deemed important and forgetting things he thought were inconsequential.
Kelia knelt down to examine the lock. It would be an easy pick, but she found her hands were shaking with anger too much for her to pick it now. He had ordered her not to leave.
Ordered her.
The thought made her blood burn with rage. In her time on the Wraith, Kelia went out of her way to make sure she did her share. She was not a witch and could not contribute magic. She was not a Shadow and could not contribute strength nor speed. But if Drew needed the deck swabbed, if he needed food cooked, or even dishes washed, she volunteered. At one point, Drew had to tell her to take some time for herself.
More than that, Kelia wanted to make sure Drew knew she respected him as captain. She did not want him to think that she thought she would get special treatment just because...because there was a history between the two of them.
He never had to order her to do anything before, and yet, he felt compelled to do so now, as though he assumed she would run off and break his rules. All he needed to do was ask, to explain his requests, and she would listen. Maybe even if she did not agree with him.
Kelia sat at his desk, loosing a breath in a heavy sigh. She would refrain from picking the lock. For now. Her fingers itched to rake through her hair, to tug at the roots, to assist with some kind of thinking because she did not understand why he seemed so angry with her.
She never expected to encounter a Siren. She didn’t know if there was any protection she could have used to ward against them, and if there were, no one had offered her any. She hadn’t known what was happening until it had already happened. She’d known something was wrong, but she’d been under a spell, her body moving as if not under her own control.
And yet, her curiosity on all of that was overshadowed by one thing: The idea that her mother might still be alive.
Was Drew simply worried about her well-being, or was there something more to it than that? Did he know something about her mom that he wasn’t telling her, just as he’d know secrets about her father that he’d kept from her?
Her head was pounding just thinking about it. If he was keeping something from her again, she would… She wasn’t sure what she would do, to be honest. Never forgive him? Feel like an even bigger fool for letting him trick her twice?
But here she was, making assumptions. Assuming his guilt where he might be innocent. If she felt this way, then she’d not really forgiven him about her father, and she needed to do that.
She leaned back in the chair and stared up at the dark ceiling. The subtle vanilla scent meshed with the salty air and helped ease the throbbing in her head. She took another deep breath as her thoughts drifted to what the Sirens seemed to insinuate about her mother. She did not want to get her hopes up. She did not want to think her mother was still alive. But why would the Sirens have mentioned her by name? They had no knowledge of Kelia and who Kelia was until they smelled her. And even then, they were more focused on Kelia’s mother, Jessa.
Was her mother in trouble? Could Kelia even help her if she was?
She stood. She could not sit still. She needed to figure out how to get in touch with the Sirens again. Hours before, they’d wanted to slaughter her or give her to the Queen...until they found out she was Jessa’s daughter.
At least, they were distracted by the fact. Perhaps there was some protection in that. Enough that it would be worth taking the risk if it meant rescuing her mother, assuming her mother really was still alive and in need of rescue.
Could she talk to Drew about it first? He knew how to shoot, even underwater. He had been around for a century. His sister was a witch, for goodness’ sake. He had to know something.
And perhaps…
Perhaps that was why he was so angry. He knew enough to know the risks.
Kelia shook her head. There was no way he was going to agree to help her go back down there.
“Sod it.”
She stomped to the door, pulled a body pin from her hair as she knelt down, and picked the lock in record time. As she got to her feet and reached out to grab the handle, Drew’s warning rang in her ears.
That’s an order.
An order he’d made as her captain.
Her fingers released the door handle and fell to her side. If she left Drew’s room, she would be disobeying his direct order. There would be a rift between them.
But…her mother.Then again, Kelia had thought her mother had been dead for the past sixteen years. What was a few more hours? She could give Drew time to calm down. Maybe he would help her, if he knew her mother was involved.
She told herself she was choosing to forgive him, and that meant giving him the benefit of the doubt. Trusting that he wouldn’t turn his back on her quest to find her mother, if her mother was really out there.
Kelia heaved another sigh as she went back to Drew’s bed and slowly took off her boots.
The minute Drew set foot on the island, he was ready to leave. He was only here because it was required of him. If he wanted to get to Sangre, he needed supplies that would last. His crew had become restless, and he wanted to ensure they got what they needed before they went on this adventure. Before he finally killed the Queen.
He could not help but glance back toward his ship. His stomach churned with guilt, but he quickly squashed it. He needed to be hard on Kelia. She could have been—
He let out a growl. Emma glanced at him with one raised eyebrow. Thankfully, she did not mention anything and continued the conversation she had been having with Daniella.
The night was clear, the stars bright and shining overhead. There was part of him that wished Kelia was with him. It would have made him feel infinitely better to have her within eye shot, just to ensure she was safe.
But there was also a risk having her walk around in plain sight as well.
He cast one last look in the direction of the ship, hidden from view due to his positioning on the dock, and turned. He needed to focus. The dock squeaked beneath his feet, the wood rusted and damaged from the elements.
The crew dispersed like fog, each going his own way, until there was no one but Drew, Christopher, and the witches remaining. Wendy looped her arm through Christopher’s, and they began to walk toward the town. Daniella was eyeing the buildings—Drew was starting to read her, and he knew her expression was one of skepticism. She tended to do this when she was scared but didn’t want others to know how she felt, so she tried to appear solid and unflinching. But Drew could tell otherwise.
“Are you worried?” Emma slid beside him like a snake in the grass. Drew was not surprised in the slightest. “About Kelia, I mean.”
“Why would I be worried about Kelia?” He hated those knowing eyes, hated them with every fiber of his being. He wished they did not know him the way they did.
She smiled, her painted red lips curling up.
Drew looked away. He had no time for her games. He wanted to put in the supply order. He wanted to feed. The more that he thought on it, the more he realized he hadn’t eaten since that despicable debacle where he’d called that poor woman by Kelia’s name…
Even then, his appetite had not been satiated.
His stomach rumbled, as though to emphasize his hunger. A barn animal wasn’t going to do it. Not this time.
Which meant he needed to place an order for supplies before going to find a human he could easily manipulate into allowing him access to her blood. At least those were plenty on the Island of the Damned.
K
elia couldn’t sleep. She continued to pace the room before deciding to try and organize the parchments scattered on Drew’s desk. It wasn’t her place, but she needed to do something productive. Watching the candle slowly melt away wasn’t doing it for her.
Drew’s scrawl was tiny but surprisingly neat. If it was light outside, she would probably be able to make out what he was writing about, what the significance was of each parchment. As it was, she could only decipher a word here, a word there—nothing terribly meaningful. Because of this, she focused simply on straightening the parchments. She still felt uncomfortable rifling through his things. On the other hand, Drew was the one who had stuck her in here rather than her own room.
When she was finished, she decided to give her blade a better cleaning. After what happened earlier, she needed to do it as soon as possible to prevent the blood from crusting onto the blade and dulling its edge.
She slid into her seat and stared at Drew’s desk. There was no light besides the flickering candle. Even the moon glow had been covered by passing clouds.
Regardless, Kelia took out her blade and placed it on the still-messy surface of the desk in front of her. In the quiet of the room, she could almost hear the ringing of her blade, which clashed with the quiet stillness of the room.
Carefully, she turned the blade and examined the edge. Using her thumbnail, she began to remove some of the blood that had already caked along the ridge of the blade.
The door burst open. Kelia jumped, nicking her thumb. She let out a yelp that was more startled than pained, but after the adrenaline quickly wore off, she began to feel stabbing along the length of her thumb.
“Slayer?” Drew walked into his room, his eyes a mixture of wariness and concern. “I’m surprised that—”
He stopped, his nostrils flaring. He tilted his head up, his eyes narrowed, as though he was looking for something.
When he finally dropped his gaze back to Kelia, he swallowed.
Gift of Darkness: Book 3 in The Vampire Pirate Saga Page 6