Sea of Darkness
Isadora Brown
Rebecca Hamilton
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
About the Authors
Sea of Darkness © 2018 Isadora Brown & Rebecca Hamilton
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Chapter 1
Kelia Starling wished she’d had time to clean her blades before being dispatched to slaughter a Sea Shadow. It would have been calming to know her blades were fresh, ready for their next victim, rather than stained with dried blood, rusted and dull from the fight before. Her father—the great Gregory Starling—always told her living in the past would get her killed in the present, and ensuring her weapon of choice was fresh and gleaming with the promise of her next kill was a guarantee for victory.
There was no time to clean her blades now, though. Not when the Sea Shadow was directly in front of her.
The monstrous beast snarled, his skin pale. There was something off about him, something that didn’t quite sit well with Kelia, even more than the fact he was a vampire. There was something ferocious about him, something animalistic—more so than he already was.
Kelia lunged left. He stepped out of her way, her blade narrowly missing his side. He grinned, his long fangs sticking out of his mouth like some kind of amused threat. Perhaps he was imagining what she would taste like.
Sea Shadows were notorious for feeding on the living, for ripping away flesh so they could drink the thick crimson blood as it pooled out of a living human in order to fuel their insatiable desire for a life that would never again be theirs. They would walk this world forever without the assistance of a beating heart. In addition to immeasurable strength, their speed was even faster than a jungle cat’s. They had teeth that could puncture flesh and rip organs from the body. And yet, Sea Shadows were known for their control. They mastered their strength, using it when they chose. How they chose.
But this thing in front of Kelia was not controlled.
The wind whipped against her face, causing tendrils to pull from her tight braid and blow into her eyes. The distraction gave the Sea Shadow a momentary upper hand, and he snapped his jaw.
When Kelia flinched, he tossed back his head and barked out a cruel laugh. He might have been handsome back when he was a human, with dark blond hair that reached his shoulders. Before she’d seen a vampire, she’d expected their presence to be chilling—unnerving—but instead, warmth pooled in her stomach. One never expected to find such a heartless enemy to be attractive.
Unexpectedly, a wave pushed into the hull of the boat, and Kelia stumbled. She gripped the handle of her cutlass, clenching her teeth. She hated how unsettled she felt; did this Sea Shadow feel the same?
To be honest, it didn’t appear as though he could comprehend much of anything, save for the fact Kelia was in front of him and looked like his next meal.
The beast lunged forward, nearly taking Kelia by surprise with the directness of his attack. Sea Shadows were usually more restrained, reserving their strength and speed for when they truly needed it. In a way, Kelia appreciated that this thing was taking her seriously as an opponent.
The few Sea Shadows she had fought before him liked to toy with her, tease her. She did not mind that. They all underestimated her abilities, and for that, they paid quite dearly. But this one would be a formidable enemy. One that would bring her great satisfaction to dismantle.
She smirked at the way the creature lunged, as if trying to get this over with as quickly as he could. As it were, the Sea Shadow behaved as though she was an obstacle in his way, a nuisance he needed to get rid of, so he could complete whatever it was he needed to do. Or maybe it was simply being reckless—maybe it knew she would defeat it. Maybe, if Sea Shadows could reason, it thought death might be a kindness.
There was something in his eyes, though. Something that made him…human…regardless of what he truly was. It was the grey that remained in his irises, she realized. Kelia did not know much about Infant Sea Shadows, but she did know their eyes were bloodshot, their skin sallow, and their thirst for blood insatiable. This Infant did not seem hungry, exactly. He seemed furious that some flimsy-looking girl was in his way, preventing him from…
She did not know what, to be quite honest.
Kelia stepped out of the way. He had been so close to ripping her skin to ribbons she nearly felt his nails scrape along the skin of her shoulder. She swallowed, her hands shaking.
A wave rocked the small boat once more. This time, Kelia managed to stand her ground, but the Infant was not as graceful as his older, more experienced counterparts. He nearly tripped, though managed to right himself just in time.
“Remember, Kelia,” an agent called. “You need to capture him alive.”
Kelia wanted to snarl at the onlooker. It would be easier if they would help her. But no, these two men only knew how to sail the blasted boat. They couldn’t defend themselves to save their lives. Literally. Which was why they stayed a good distance away, letting the Slayers handle the messy work.
Actually, the fact they were currently not in the small cabin that had specifically been designed to ensure their protection gave her pause. Why were they outside, watching her? Who were they to give her pointers on how to fight?
At that moment, the Infant struck, slicing her cheek with his nails—more like claws since he was a Shadow—so she felt the ripping skin tug downward until she yanked her face away from his grasp. If she didn’t clean that as soon as she got back to the fortress, she’d be facing an infection.
No more distractions, Kelia.
Taking a breath, she raised her blade. She was ready to strike when a gust of wind blasted her face, sending her braid into disarray, ripples of hair coming free. Kelia had to close her eyes due to the strength of the blast, tightening her core muscles to keep the wind from throwing her off-balance.
At least she wasn’t the only one.
The Infant seemed to be struggling himself. It didn’t appear as though he was used to his newly found powers yet. He kept staring at his hands, as though he could not believe they belonged to him. She wondered if he felt the power surgi
ng through his body, but didn’t know what to do with it.
Kelia huffed a breath. First, the unclean blades. Now, the wind tousling her braid. This was not going the way she planned.
It didn’t help that the sea was not cooperating with her, either. Not that it ever did. She was much more skilled on land compared to the ocean. At least the land was solid, and it did not move out from under her.
At that moment, Kelia took a step forward and struck. The blade sank into his side. He let out a piercing scream, one that shook the entire boat. This time, her blade was not laced with liquid silver; for some reason, The Society required he be brought in alive. She had no idea why. It was not as though they could question him. He did not seem to be in his right mind in the first place. If they thought he would be able to understand their questions and provide rational responses…
Well, she was not one to question The Society.
Kelia yanked the blade from his flesh, sending drops of dark blood flying everywhere. She nearly gasped. Sea Shadows, being creatures of the night who were both dead and doomed to live an eternity, did not bleed. How could they when their hearts had stopped pumping? That was why, when they were pierced with silver, they disintegrated into ash rather than bled out.
Did his heart still pump, or was this blood excess?
Kelia shook her head. It would probably run dry in a few days. Besides, it didn’t change anything. She was sent to complete a task, and so she would.
In her moment of distraction, the Infant leapt off his feet and sprung, knocking her down and pinning her against the old wood of the boat. His nails sank into her shoulders, and she turned her head, trying to muffle her cry of pain. She thought she heard the two agents shouting, but the roar of the wind drowned them out. What they were saying was lost in the breeze.
She needed to think. Fast.
The Infant snapped at her neck, and she strained against him, pulling back as far as she could so his teeth only grazed her skin.
She was going to die.
Or worse—he was going to turn her into one of them.
Allowing herself to be distracted might have been fatal. She shouldn’t have pondered on the oddity of Infants. That had always been her greatest fault. How many times had her trainer chided her for not paying attention? He didn’t understand how she even could think of anything else when her life was in danger. It went against human nature.
But sometimes those thoughts were what saved her. Sometimes what she noticed helped her win fights. She just needed to…focus. To take control.
Her left hand still held her blade, but the way the Infant gripped her shoulder made it impossible to use it. She couldn’t even manage to kick him. The best she could do was struggle, though she doubted that would work, considering his strength far surpassed hers.
If the damn agents threw the Infant off her, that would at least distract him so Kelia could make use of her blade. But it did not seem the two men were bright enough—or brave enough—to figure that one out. If she was going to survive, she needed to act quickly.
As she strained against him, a thought flashed through her mind. It was so vile, so revolting, she thought it just might work. Without warning, she opened her mouth and spat on the Sea Shadow. The action took him by surprise, and he froze. Taking advantage, Kelia pushed him as hard as she could.
He growled, a fierce sound that rivaled the thunder.
It hadn’t worked.
He was as unmovable as a rock.
Until a wave from the turbulent sea pushed into the boat so hard it knocked him over.
Kelia sprang to her feet, and one of the agents rushed to hand her the silver cuffs. She managed to clasp one cuff on the Infant’s wrist, and he screeched as his skin smoked. The second cuff, however, was easier to get on, though the smell of burning flesh still stuck in her nose.
Once he was in custody, she let the two agents lead the Infant belowdecks. They’d place him in the small, one-cell brig made of silver, while Kelia stayed where she was, attempting to catch her breath.
That was close. Too close.
And her job was not yet done.
Andrew Knight stood on the deck of his ship, his crisp brown eyes taking in the horizon. The elements were acting up again. The wind tousled his short, dark hair and ruffled his clothing, and the thunder roared from somewhere off in the distance. He had been alive long enough to know the rain would hit Port George in a few hours, drenching anyone unlucky enough to be outside.
Though it was still night and Drew could step onto land, he refrained from doing so. Unless he felt as though his presence was required, he was perfectly content staying onboard the ship he’d had for the past century. The waves were turbulent, but he maintained his balance with ease, having done so countless times before.
Something was wrong, though. There was something going on out there that required his attention. He just didn’t know what.
Port George was filled with a subset of the wealthy English population who tended to stay in one location without exploring the island, which worked well for Drew, since he docked on part of the island no one knew about. Fortunately for him, the islanders staying in their own little bubble gave him the run of the southern portion, should he choose to roam it.
But he didn’t.
Drew preferred the sea. He could always count on the sea to change. It was humans he couldn’t trust.
Which was yet another reason he was stationed on Port George. This was where the headquarters of the Slayers was stationed. He did not know where, exactly, but he knew they were here, plotting nefarious acts against his kind. Which was ironic, considering.
“Any news of him?”
Drew’s eyes shifted from the horizon to rest on Emma, one of his few human friends. She was the only person he trusted who had a heartbeat. In fact, he trusted her so much he allowed her to roam freely aboard his ship and to run errands for him that he could not do himself.
“No.” His voice was cold, though he did not mean for her to take the dismissing tone personal. She never did. “If he is after The Society, and I suspect he is, then he should be here.”
“How would he be able to determine The Society is here?” she asked, taking a step toward him. Emma always kept her distance, not because she was afraid of him, but because she didn’t like anyone invading her personal space. It was something she sacrificed when she pretended to be a whore, but only when she absolutely needed to blend in with the population of downtown Port George.
Drew said nothing, but she had a way of reading him. Surely she knew Christopher was probably tipped off by Drew himself.
Her expression fell. “Oh.”
“You disapprove?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“I just know a man in love will follow his heart instead of his head,” Emma murmured in a low voice. “I don’t want his feelings to get him killed, Drew.” She straightened her posture, as if daring him to challenge her. “Or worse.”
“You think they will turn him into a Shadow?” he asked.
He was surprised by the curiosity in his voice, and hoped he hadn’t portrayed anything more—anything that would suggest he hadn’t thought about such a thing happening, or how, now that he had, how much he was shaken by the thought. But only as much as something could shake Drew Knight. He had seen too much in his long life, experienced so much, that it was hard to take him by surprise. Emma, however, was always good at coming close.
“I would not be surprised,” she murmured. He focused intently on her profile, but she did not shudder under his gaze. “They know who he is to her. He never tried to hide it, the fool.”
“Yes, but he’s a fool in love,” Drew interjected.
“Even worse,” Emma said, raising a brow. “Are you planning to do something about this? He has probably already fallen into their hands.”
Drew pressed his lips together, thinking. “You think they’d risk taking him on if they did turn him?” he asked. “He would be an Infant with no experienced
creator by his side. He would be dangerous.” He cocked his head to the side. “He knowingly left the Queen, risked it all, just to find her. You know what that means, don’t you?”
Emma’s face twisted, and Drew knew she did. The Queen, the mother, was the first known Sea Shadow, turned by the East India Company in the late fourteen hundreds. There were now a few thousand Sea Shadows, all of whom could trace their lineage back, in some way, to her. The East India Company refused to continue to create beasts themselves. Instead, they forced her to create Shadows for them until she grew too powerful for even them to contain. Now, they only worked together when it benefited them both. Any Shadows too uncontrollable or powerful to contain, the Society would step in and take them out.
Drew was not one to hate, but if he hated anything in this world, it was her. She was a wretched, awful beast who took what she wanted and gave nothing back. A true pirate who bred loyalty through fear rather than respect. One who preyed upon the innocent, and had no qualms about doing what was necessary to get whatever she wanted.
He was keen on exposing truth and justice, something he knew The Society was adamantly opposed to. That had been his goal since freeing himself from the queen’s clutches, and he was intent on doing just that.
“Power,” Drew continued. “The East India Company values power. And they’ll damn the lot of us to acquire it.”
His teeth clenched, a beast snarling at the wind, and he stared out at sea. It was in moments like these—in pure, blissful ferociousness—that his dark eyes teased red. He knew this, for his whole world would tint red in response.
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