“Blood,” he managed to get out. “Why does it smell like blood?”
“Oh.” Kelia was just about to put her thumb in her mouth to keep the blood from spilling onto the tunic, but Drew’s strained voice stopped her. “I cut myself trying to clean my blade.”
He frowned, his eyes still locked on the digit in question. He walked toward her, one step, then a second. His entire body was tense, as though something was going on, as though he was restraining himself for some reason.
“Are you… Do you require assistance?”
Kelia was surprised by the husky tone in his voice. It sent shivers down her back. Her heart raced and her knees shook. Warmth pooled in her stomach and between her thighs, followed quickly by a heat in her cheeks she knew would show red. Quickly, she looked away, but she couldn’t bring herself to move any further, even as Drew continued to come to her.
“I-I do not know.” She swallowed, her saliva scraping against her raw throat. The gesture did nothing to ease the tension that sprang in her body.
He was suddenly standing in front of her, looking at her with hooded eyes. He offered her his hand. “May I?”
Without even thinking about it, she placed her injured hand in his palm. As his hand met hers, something sparked—a jolt through her body. Kelia could only compare it to what lightning might do once it had struck its target.
“It’s deeper than a superficial injury,” he said, examining her finger. The candlelight cast edges to his chiseled face, making him even more beautiful than he already was. “But it does not look like it will need any stitches.”
“Good.”
The word was barely a whisper, and yet it filled the room.
Drew brought the thumb closer to his face. Kelia could feel her entire body tremble. She did not know what he intended to do with it, did not know if he was going to heal it or if something else would take place. All she knew was that she was both anticipating it and yet dreading it at the same time. She could not explain why she felt conflicted. To her, it made no sense. But she was not in any position to question it. Instead, she let him take her hand, let him bring it to his face…
And then he dropped it. He stepped back. He turned and all but stomped away.
“You may leave,” he said.
“Drew, I”
“Get out!” he shouted. “Please.” His voice cracked. Softened. “Leave. I-I need you to go.”
Kelia had the urge to throw the candle across the room—right at his pompous head. She opened her mouth, ready to respond, but stopped. Drew was not worth getting upset over.
Not when she had something more pressing to figure out.
Clearly, Drew was in no place to be open to helping her. And she was not about to let that stop her from learning more about her mother.
Drew crumpled to the floor of the room. He had not fed. He’d found someone willing, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Now he was starving, and Kelia’s blood—
Emma could not conjure something as intoxicating as what Kelia’s blood must taste like. Simply being in the same room as it, as it gushed out from her dainty thumb, had caused his hunger to spark. He felt himself growl, felt himself coil and tense, felt himself want to pounce on her, to not only feed from her but to bury himself inside of her and claim her as his.
Not because he wanted to own her. Not because he believed she was a thing to be possessed, but because he had strong feelings for her, feelings he wanted to get out. Feelings he wanted to share with her.
And that scared him the most.
He leaned against the foot of the bed. With his ability to see things shrouded in the darkest of nights, he caught sight of crimson on his desk. His nostrils flared once more. He curled his fingers into fists, digging his nails into the palm of his hands.
He should have stayed on the island. He should have fed from some human who wanted this, not lust after his—
Friend.
They were friends, and all Drew could think about was using her as food.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself, letting his head hang in shame.
He prized himself on not being the beast Kelia used to think he was. And yet, here he was, tempted to lick a drop of blood from the surface of his desk.
He had returned to check on her. He had done that. If he wanted to survive this night, if he wanted to be sharp and clear-headed, he needed to feed. Especially with her blood lingering in his room. He needed fresh air, a distraction. His feelings were getting too overwhelming. He needed to escape.
He stood and headed back to the deck of the ship, to one of the row boats. He didn’t notice that one was missing, did not notice that Kelia had not left to go to her room as he had commanded her to.
Chapter 8
Kelia had no idea where she was going. All she knew was that Drew had returned from the Island of the Damned alone. Perhaps if she could find Emma, maybe even Wendy and Christopher, she would be better suited at figuring out if what the Sirens said really meant what it’d sounded like.
Or perhaps you left, knowing they might pull you underwater again, a voice said inside of her mind, smooth and slippery like an eel.
Kelia swallowed. She continued to row across the surface of the ocean. Because she was by herself, her pacing was no faster than a baby's crawl. However, her gaze locked on the dock, and she did not blink, did not flinch for a moment. She focused her attention on her breathing, on the sound of the lapping water as it hit the small boat and pushed it forward. Her back did not pinch anymore the way it used to. The wounds she had accumulated at her former handler's hand were starting to fade—at least, in pain. The scars would remain, a reminder of all that she endured.
Not that she needed one.
If she focused on water, she might be able to drown out the sounds of the Sirens, if they chose to sing again.
Closer and closer she came to the docks. Her arms were screaming at her. She had not rowed a boat like this by herself in so long...
She let out a breath as the ocean seemed to help her forward, pushing her along with the rowing. By the time she reached the wooden docks, she all but dropped the oars. She needed to take a minute to let her arms relax. They shook beyond her control. She took another breath and forced herself to stand. She needed to tie the boat to the dock so it would not drift off.
Even with the assistance of Emma's concoction, her stomach was still tumbling. She took a moment to balance her weight on the boat before bending down to retrieve the thick rope. It took her longer than usual, but after a few moments, she had the boat secure. Now all she needed to do was step onto the deck and make her way to the island.
Because it was so late, there was no port master, no one to collect a fee to dock their boats. In fact, there was an eerie silence that seemed to hang from the small dock, the boats that bobbed up and down with the ocean and its waves. Kelia forced herself to shake her head, to get out of her thoughts and focus on why she came here: she needed information. If there was a chance her mother was still alive...
Just as she set one booted foot on the dock, a hand shot out and grabbed her ankle. Kelia nearly tumbled back into the water, but she managed to catch her balance just in time. She looked down and saw a familiar pair of slate-blue eyes and blonde hair tainted green.
A Siren.
"You," she said, her grip firm. Her head and shoulders were above the surface of the water, her shoulders square. Kelia recognized her from earlier: Elise. "You are the one we want."
Kelia’s throat went dry. She chanced a look back at the Wraith, but the ship was hidden from her view and the ocean was empty. It did not appear as though Drew noticed she was missing. Her heart jumped. It was light but noticeable. She did not care to attempt to decipher what it meant. She forced it down and cleared her throat, attempting to refocus her attention on the Siren.
"Why?" Kelia asked. She did not know if it was the correct question, but it was the only one she could think of.
Despite the warmth ear
lier in the day, there was a chill in the air. She wished she had brought an overcoat or, at least, layered her new tunic with a shirt that would keep her warm. It could be that her hair was still slightly damp.
"You are Jessa's daughter." The Siren blinked, seemingly satisfied with this explanation.
"Is..." Kelia swallowed. Her voice came out raw, her throating burning, as though it wanted to keep the words inside. "Is my mother still alive?"
Slowly, the Siren's lips curled up into a smug smirk. "Come with me to find out.”
Kelia planted her other foot on the dock to keep her balance. The Siren did nothing to release her grip, but she allowed Kelia to maneuver into a more comfortable position. She had to stretch up, exposing her breasts, her long, graceful torso, and the beginning of her tail. It was difficult not to stare in awe of her beauty, but there was something dark about her. Something foreboding and dangerous.
"How do I know you are not lying?" Kelia’s heart hammered in her chest, but she had no idea why she would be afraid. The Siren had not threatened her. They had dragged her underwater earlier...but they also hadn’t killed her or taken her to the Queen.
This could go either way.
"I don’t deny I would rather be feasting on you than having a lovely chat about your mother," the Siren said drolly. "Yet I have not killed you already, when easily I could have. Tell me, young thing, would you rather I bit into you and drank your sweet, pure blood? Would that be an easier idea for you to believe in?"
Kelia tried to pull her ankle from Elise's grasp, hoping to take her by surprise. Instead, Kelia stumbled off balance and landed in a heap on her backside. The Siren chortled and tugged on Kelia's ankle so her feet dangled over the edge of the dock.
"You can come willingly," she said, "or I can take you myself. But your mother longs to see you. Ever since Sirens claimed her, she has missed you."
"Claimed?" Kelia asked. "What does that mean?"
"I'll give you one last chance, young thing," Elise said. "Choose to come with me. It will make this easier on both of us, and I always prefer to do things the easy way, if you please."
At that moment, a loud voice booming some kind of incantation cracked the night sky like a whip. Kelia could not make out the language, but she did her best to fellow along.
"...damnant ad mare."
Elise screamed and released her hold on Kelia. She sank into the water so only the top half of her head was above the water. Those eyes fixed on Kelia, narrowed and angry.
"Non revertemur."
Kelia turned to see Emma emerging from the darkness like a shadow, with Daniella just beside her, holding some kind of plant in her grasp. Was it sage? Something else entirely?
"Nos mos adepto eam. Et libenter veniam."
Elise spat in the water, disgust tainting her beautiful features. "Until we meet again, young thing. Perhaps use this time wisely to decide whether you want to see your mother again."
She turned and dove back into the ocean, disappearing from sight.
Kelia felt like she could suddenly breathe again. Tears formed in her eyes, but they did not fall. Her hands shook. Her heart raced. But she felt relieved.
"Kelia," Emma murmured. There was an edge to her voice. Kelia could not make out if it was annoyance or something else. Perhaps Emma was just as frightened as Kelia had been. "What are you doing off the ship? Does Drew know?" Emma stared into her eyes, then scanned her body. "You left on your own accord, didn't you?"
"My mother," Kelia finally got out. "My mother. The Siren said—”
"Sirens say a lot of things," Emma said, flicking her wrist dismissively. "Do not feed into their lies. They pollute your ears with alluring music, with sweet words. Whatever it takes you charm you into going with them."
"If she wanted to kill me, she could have," Kelia pointed out.
Emma turned, stepping in the direction of the island. Daniella followed suit, but Kelia noticed a curious look on her face.
“I suppose the Siren told you that, too?” Emma asked, turning back to arc her eyebrow before continuing toward the island.
"She could have killed me," Kelia repeated, standing and moving her feet to keep up. "But she didn’t. She said if I went with her willingly—”
"Do not go anywhere with Sirens," Emma snapped.
Kelia flinched. She had never seen Emma angry before. She had never seen Emma even a little afraid or nervous or anything, really. Emma had always been stoic, neutral. To see her face consumed with emotion made Kelia pause.
"Don’t ever go with Sirens, Kelia, for any reason." Emma’s eyes locked with Kelia's, the dark brown a raging fire. "There are worse things than death."
"But my mother—”
"Is dead." Immediately after speaking the words, Emma’s expression softened. It appeared as though she was going to say something reassuring, but ultimately, she did not. She let out a shaky breath. "Your mother is dead, Kelia. And I’m sorry for that loss. The Goddess has used her body, recycled it into the ground to nourish the earth. Anything you are told differently is a lie, a deadly lie that could get you killed."
Kelia clenched her jaw and fell in line next to Daniella. There was a flicker of sympathy in her gaze before she looked away. Together, they stepped off the dock and onto the dirt road.
The low murmur of drunkards hollering from the taverns ahead were like beacons along a dark passage, lighting her way to where she wanted to go. They walked in silence for a while before Kelia spoke again.
"How did you know I was here?"
"The smell," Daniella replied, wrinkling her nose. “And then we smelled the Siren, which was even worse.”
"The wretched demons smell like rotting seaweed and salt," Emma agreed.
They had just come into the beginning of the shopping district. Despite the darkness, people were spilling out of taverns. Men walked up and down the streets, leering at them as they passed by. One of them made a blunt comment about a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead to which Daniella responded with a vulgar gesture of her own. This, of course, did nothing to temper the men but sent them into fits of laughter.
Young girls, even younger than Kelia, with made up faces, stifling corsets, and plunging necklines prowled the streets, blowing kisses at any man who walked by. Kelia’s throat went dry at the prospect of young girls being forced to sell their bodies for a pitiful amount of coins.
Chimneys puffed black clouds of smoke skyward, making the evening look darker than it really was. Her nose tickled with the strong scent of sulfur and meat, and her stomach rumbled. She’d forgotten just how hungry she was. Organizing parchments and nearly drowning was enough to work up an appetite.
"Where are we going, anyway?” she asked, not seeing anywhere in the village that she would consider a safe place to stay for a while.
"You ask so many questions," Daniella said with an annoyed scowl. "A thank you for saving your foolish ass would be nice."
Kelia refrained from rolling her eyes. Her heart was not in bantering with Daniella at the moment. In fact, her head was too busy with thought, with the prospect of her mother being alive. Part of her wished Emma had not come, had not rescued her from whatever was going to happen. She needed to know one way or another.
"Your mother is not alive, Kelia Starling." Emma stopped so suddenly, Kelia nearly ran into her back.
Kelia swallowed around the lump in her throat. Emma’s way of reacting to unspoken thoughts was unnerving.
"The Siren said—”
"Water witches are notorious liars," Emma snapped. "They will do anything they can to get what they want. I’m frightened for you if you do not heed my warning, Kelia. I need you to trust me.”
Kelia placed her hands on her hips. "But she knew about my mother. Even her name.” Kelia raised her eyebrows at Emma. “How is that? You tell me, then how she is a liar. Perhaps you are right. But how would the Siren know anything about me? Don't I owe it to myself to at least see if her claim has merit to it? Wouldn’t you do the same thin
g if you were in my shoes?”
"Only if I thought potentially dying was worth finding out the answer," Emma said. She pressed her lips together in a frown. “Which I suppose you might, given your past decisions. But as part of Drew Knight’s crew, I am bound to stand behind his decisions, and despite his claims, I know he specifically returned to the ship to ensure you were all right. He did not place an order for supplies, so I must do it, or we will be forced to stay another evening to ensure our ship is fully stocked before we leave for Sangre. I know he certainly didn’t go through that trouble just to have you get eaten by a Siren"
Kelia clenched her jaw. “In other words, we’re on our way to place a supply order. That was all you needed to say. I didn’t need the lecture.”
Emma whipped around and headed toward the opening of the door attached to a tall, wooden building. It looked as though it housed multiple people but it appeared business-like rather than residential.
Before she could knock, two women with revealing dresses opened the door, their hips swaying side to side. Kelia looked up and took in what looked like a three-story residence. This was where Drew ordered his supplies?
"Hello, Emma," the first one said.
The second one pouted. "Where’s Drew? Is he not with you?"
Kelia’s teeth clamped together.
"Not tonight, Sylvia," Emma said, the facade of sweetness thick and heavy like the smoke erupting from the chimney. "Where is Grayson Briggs? I'm sure he's expecting me."
"He's busy," the first one said. "Please wait in the drawing room."
The minute they stepped into the building, Kelia was confronted with a slap of heavy perfume that immediately caused a pinching headache to form in the back of her head. She cleared her throat, trying to keep from dropping her head in her hands. She did not want these women to see any weakness from her.
Instead, she took in the smooth wood and the crimson colored rugs that lined the floor. Voices could be heard from a room on the second story. A couple of Drew's crew, who had been in the foyer, were led upstairs by beautiful, scantily clad women. Try as she might, Kelia could not stop the blush from warming her cheeks, and she quickly looked away. This was most definitely not shipping supplies.
Gift of Darkness: Book 3 in The Vampire Pirate Saga Page 7