Drew could almost forget he was a Sea Shadow, save for these moments. The moments where his anger got the better of him, and his nature as a vampire of the sea took over.
He was aware enough to know some Shadows were vicious, wild things who did what they wanted—but the same could be said of some humans as well.
The queen had been one of the more vicious Shadows. She fooled others with her beauty, but Drew knew better than to fall for such seductive charms. He had learned a lot from her while under her thumb. Since breaking away from her, his life—death—was much better than it had been when he was with her harem of Shadows who were kept around as nothing more than protection and pleasure. And since leaving there, he learned that most Sea Shadows didn’t deserve to be hunted and killed by The Society who created them.
When he focused on Emma again, her gaze was still intent on him. A breeze ruffled her hair, and Drew could perceive every muscle in her body as it tensed. Drew couldn’t help but smirk at her effort to conceal her shudder. She always tried to hide her fear, even though no one would blame her if she were to admit fearing a being that was more beast than man.
“Cold?” Drew asked, teasing her.
Her muscles tensed more. He could sense it.
“I prefer the cold,” she said.
“Mmm,” he murmured, turning back to the sea. These storms on the cusp of summer and autumn always seemed bitter, as though the summer was upset at relinquishing its hold on the weather.
Emma took an abrupt step toward him, drawing his attention again. But just as abruptly, she froze. She appeared nervous. Which meant she wasn’t about to let him off the hook with a change of subject. Emma was about to challenge him.
Her hands curled into tight fists at her side. “Well?” she asked. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Wait,” Drew said. “We wait.”
“But—”
“There’s nothing more we can do,” he said, sharply this time. “And then…”
“And then?” Emma prodded, perking her brows.
“If the Shadow breeder is the same man, we track him down and acquire the necessary information in whatever way possible,” Drew said, feeling that darkness wash over him again.
Emma placed a long index finger on her chin. “Right. Of course,” she said. “What was his name again?”
Drew Knight turned away from her, gripping the edge of the ship so tightly his knuckles turned even whiter than his already pale skin.
“Starling,” he said. “Gregory Starling.”
Chapter 2
Once they were safely back at The Society’s docks, Kelia rushed off the ship and threw up in the nearby bushes.
If she never got on another boat, it would be too soon. Of course, that wasn’t really an option. Especially not if she wanted to continue her pursuit to become a sea Slayer.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and tried to stay steady, reminding herself why losing her stomach was worth it in the end.
Due to their curse, Sea Shadows practically lived on the ocean. Unless the sun had fully set, they couldn’t touch land without bursting into flames. That meant it was safer for the Slayers to capture them on the waves during the day, before they invaded at nightfall. And that meant Kelia either needed to brace herself against her sea sickness…or give up her duty as a Slayer.
She hated the blasted sea, but no one ever said she had to like it.
Maybe one day her training would catch up with her, and she wouldn’t feel this way anymore. Laughing bitterly, she thought, Yeah, right.
She spun toward the two agents behind her, who each gripped the Infant Sea Shadow by an arm. Interestingly enough, he was not struggling, fighting, or hissing. Instead, he kept his cold, grey eyes on her.
Kelia pursed her lips. She liked to think she was not afraid of a lot of things. Even Sea Shadows were not to be feared when one knew how to put them down, and had been training their entire life to do so. But as much as she didn’t want to admit it, this Infant made her squirm.
With a sigh, she tamped down those feelings, lifting her chin with false confidence. She didn’t have time to be afraid. She had a job to do, and fear would get her killed.
The two agents led the Infant Sea Shadow up the dirt path to the grand stone fortress that stood as protection for the citizens of Port George, as well as the secret headquarters of the Shadow Society. Sea Shadows who were taken here never left. Kelia didn’t know what happened to them, but she did know they were never seen nor spoken of again.
“You’ve returned.”
The familiar tenor caused her attention to snap back in front of her. Her father stood a few paces away, a wariness in his blue eyes. This expression was nothing new, and Kelia kept her mouth shut as he appraised every inch of her, searching for injuries. She knew better than to tell him she was not harmed, not when he could see the torn clothing and the scratches on her face that were already clotting.
“In one piece,” she mumbled when his eyes met hers once again.
He cut a glance at the sea almost dismissively. “Barely,” he said.
Kelia clenched her teeth to hold back from making any biting comments. She’d been raised better than that and would not disrespect her father, even if he was acting colder than usual. His gaze continuously scanned the area surrounding them, as though he thought someone was listening in on their conversation.
The thought unsettled Kelia. Only The Society knew of this place. No one else. They were safe. Why was her father acting as if paranoid they were being watched?
His blue eyes found hers again—cold eyes she was thankful she had not inherited. Gregory Starling was a loving man, but there were times he was reserved to the point of barely speaking. Most of the time, it was after she returned from missions, even though that was rare unto itself. She was still in training.
“Well?” he asked finally.
Kelia took a breath. “I got him,” she said, trying to keep the attitude from her voice.
His eyes slid over to where the agents led the Infant up to the fortress. “I can see that,” he said. “Did you obtain any information from him?”
“From an Infant?” Kelia furrowed her brow. “They barely register who they used to be and what they are now. How am I supposed to obtain information from that?”
“Who told you that?”
She nearly snorted, but managed to stop herself. Despite the blood that stained her blade and the skin-tight pantaloons she had to wear on missions, she was still a lady and ladies did not snort, no matter how ridiculous the questions that came from her father’s mouth were.
“Everyone knows that, Father,” she told him.
She turned to the fortress and saw her handler, Ashton Rycroft, standing next to the entrance, his twinkling blue eyes behind thin-rimmed spectacles pinned on her and her father. Out of habit, her spine straightened under his watchful gaze, though there was a bout of unease swirling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t be sure, due to how far away he was, but there was something in his eyes…
Was he staring at her father?
Ashton Rycroft and Gregory Starling were not known associates. Even being Kelia’s handler did not force them to communicate. Gregory grew up in The Society. Although his wife was an outsider, she’d been allowed to stay until she’d been killed by a Sea Shadow while on a mission with Kelia’s father. He had never forgiven himself for losing his wife; it was probably why he was so hard on his daughter.
Kelia barely remembered her mother. She had been no more than a toddler when her mother was stolen from her, but she remembered the sadness in her father’s eyes, the way he couldn’t look at Kelia for the longest time because she resembled her mother so much—from the green eyes to the golden hair to the heart-shaped face. For the longest time, Kelia hated her face because of how her father looked at her. It was why she forced herself to excel in her studies, to be the best, hoping that perhaps he would no longer regard her as if she were a ghost sent to haunt him.<
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“Kelia,” her father said, shifting his attention away from Rycroft and back to her. “I know you must debrief, but there are important matters I have to discuss with you. Will you meet with me at nine this evening, at The Scarlett Wench?”
Kelia’s could feel the tension in her face as her eyebrows pushed together. Why would he want to meet at The Scarlett Wench? Why would he want to have an important discussion with her in public, where anyone could overhear? Why not just meet in his private quarters?
But she knew better than to let the question on her face and in her mind spill from her lips. A daughter did not question her father’s judgment.
Instead, she nodded. “Of course.”
Although her eyes still certainly reflected her questions, his told her that he would explain everything if she would just be patient. Patience was not something that suited Kelia, but she would force herself to act on it. It wouldn’t be long before their meeting, anyway. All Kelia had to do was debrief, then she could change into something more suitable for a meal with her father.
“Do not tell anyone where you are going,” her father instructed. He cast his gaze once again at Ashton Rycroft.
Kelia nearly demanded to know what this was about and how Ashton Rycroft was involved, because her father was not hiding the fact he knew something about the handler, something that did not seem to bode well. Instead, she bit her tongue. If Ashton was involved, now was the worst time to ask.
“Come alone,” her father continued, placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezing. The pressure didn’t hurt, but it was enough to impart her father’s meaning to take him seriously. “Do I make myself clear?”
Kelia nodded again. It took everything she had to keep her face an unreadable mask. If Ashton were a problem, and he was watching them now, she couldn’t let on there was anything untoward about her conversation with her father.
For a moment, her father stared at her. All the coldness and hardness that made up the various lines on his face vanished, his expression replaced with something soft and warm. The way she remembered he’d been when her mother was still alive.
He cupped her cheek with his hand, and his thumb caressed her skin. “I will tell you everything, Kelia,” he told her in a soft voice. “I regret not telling you sooner, but I had to be sure…” He let his voice trail off, but then, as if woken from a dream, he dropped his hand and his guard went back up. “Nine o’clock. Don’t be late.”
He spun on the heel of his boot, and started to head back up to the fortress.
A crackle of thunder hit the sky, and Kelia jumped, then shook her head at her skittishness. She needed to see her handler in order to be debriefed. Then she could meet with her father and find out what this was all about.
Ashton Rycroft’s office was on the first floor in the fortress, tucked down a long hallway so he could hear people approaching. He seemed to like shiny things, considering the mediocre art encased in gold frames that hung on the black walls, and the random ruby ring that sat on the corner of his desk, like a trophy he had acquired during his travels.
But who was Ashton Rycroft? Surely there was more to the man than his office would suggest. Yet, no one seemed to know much about him. Only that he’d worked his way up from professor and trainer to handler at a young age, making him part of The Society’s council, which in turn gave him the power to determine the fate of The Society. That had been many years ago, though, and now Rycroft was the oldest member of the council, deemed as the one whose opinion had the most weight. And that made every visit to his office terrifying.
Even now, despite having done nothing wrong, Kelia could admit she was more than slightly intimidated to be sitting in his office.
“Well, my dear,” he said, sitting his squat form into his chair and interlacing his stubby fingers, placing the sides of his palms flat on his smooth desk. His eyes sparkled at her from behind small spectacles, and there was an amused smile that curled his lips. “You’ve had quite an evening, have you not?”
Kelia forced a small laugh, but it was a pathetic attempt at pleasing her handler, so she stopped herself. Whenever she sat in this office, she always felt as though she’d done something wrong. Perhaps it was because his chair was positioned higher than hers, making her feel as though he was looking down on her, even though it was protocol to be debriefed once a mission was complete.
“I hope this does not dissuade you from choosing to stay within The Society rather than be married off,” he said.
Though he had not asked a question, he studied her as though he was waiting for some kind of response.
“I’m still debating, Mr. Rycroft,” she told him. “I was hoping that perhaps, if the policy changes before my eighteenth birthday, that I should like to pursue both a relationship and a career.”
Rycroft laughed, a hollow sound that was rare coming past his lips. “You are a treat, Kelia Starling,” he said. “You are one of my favorite students. Too romantic for your own good, but an excellent student, nonetheless. Reed and Skylar both reported what happened. You’ll have to get your injuries checked out by our physician, but it appears as though the cuts are superficial.” He sighed through his nose. “Perhaps you should focus on the dangers in front of you rather than these fantasies of yours, hmm?” He raised one eyebrow. “Fantasies we both know will never come true. There’s a reason a choice must be made, Kelia. Look at what happened to your mother. Your father was distracted, and as such, she died at the hands of a Sea Shadow. We cannot risk losing agents due to unnecessary things, such as feelings, that could get them killed.”
He had not just implied her father was to blame for her mother’s death, had he? The man certainly had more tact than that. Kelia must have just been reading too much into what he’d meant. It’d been a long day.
Pressing her lips together, she glanced at her lap. She felt cold in this office, but that could be because she was still in her wet uniform. She hated the feeling of wet boots, wet clothes, wet hair. She wanted to be rid of them as quickly as possible.
Kelia felt as if she’d been a disappointment, even though she had done everything she was asked. She played with her fingers, tugging at them, wondering what Rycroft saw when he stared at her through his spectacles. Kelia knew she was not the strongest or the fastest Slayer, but she tried to be the best she could. She wanted to make herself a worthy choice. She did not want Rycroft to regret selecting her to be one of his chosen Slayers.
Rycroft selected Slayers to personally groom. Kelia did not know if it was out of loyalty to her father that Rycroft had selected her. Her father had become a Slayer later in life, after he had married. He was one of the rare exceptions to the rule. One could not have both a family and be a Slayer. There was too much risk, too much to lose.
Kelia rubbed her palms along the skintight material, feeling her hands get clammy. The longer she sat in the silence, the more convinced she became that she was in trouble. She was nearly trembling by the time Rycroft finally spoke.
He unfolded his hands and spread them apart. “Were you able to obtain any information?”
“He seemed…” Kelia furrowed her brow as she remembered what had transpired between her and the Infant. “He seemed to think I was in his way. Not that I was food. Almost as though he had recently been changed, and was still holding onto his human tendencies.”
“Interesting,” Rycroft murmured, tracing the outline of his lips with his fingers and leaning back in his chair. “How were you able to survive the Infant? When the call was made, I knew you had the best chance of survival, but I’m floored that you’re practically unharmed.”
Well, that was an odd way to phrase her accomplishments. Rycroft was intelligent, but he had never been an agent of The Society. He specialized in tactics and strategy, not the physical aspect that Kelia excelled at.
“I don’t think I would have,” she replied honestly, “if the sea had not been so temperamental. It was both my weakness and my strength.”
“I’
m surprised you were able to maintain your composure.” Rycroft seemed to be smiling as he scanned the few sheets of parchment on his desk. “Knowing how delicate you are at sea.”
She didn’t know if he was teasing or insulting her. Regardless, it was not one of the nicest things he ever said to her, though, to be fair, he was not known for his niceties. As such, Kelia decided the best thing to do was keep her mouth shut and wait. Rycroft seemed to like to fill the silence with the sound of his own voice, and Kelia didn’t want to say something daft.
“Anyway,” he said, adjusting his spectacles. “I’m glad you’re okay, Kelia. I was afraid you would not return to us whole…if you returned to us at all. And how very tragic that would be, after everything your father has endured. Would you like a day off from lessons tomorrow? Perhaps to rest after your night?”
Kelia blinked. Rycroft was not known for awarding students time off for family emergencies or for illness. He believed students should fight through illness, through pain, in order to make him or her a better Slayer. To have him even suggest resting was unfathomable. For a moment, she was apt to believe this was a trick. A test. She cleared her throat, about to respond, when he started chuckling.
“I do apologize, my dear,” he said. “I understand if I’ve thrown you with my uncharacteristic question. However, even I am prone to understanding that being pitted against an Infant is more than what we can ask from an agent, especially one so young as yourself. You also did not have any sort of partner to assist you, which makes the Infant’s defeat even more…impressive.”
Kelia was not certain, but she could swear he was going to say something else, something along the lines of startling. If he had been so certain of her danger, then why had he sent her alone?
“Is there anything else we need to discuss?” he asked, arching his eyebrow. He glanced down at the parchment, and Kelia found herself trying to make out what it said from her viewpoint. Unfortunately for her, the writing was too small to decipher upside down.
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