Rycroft proceeded to head toward the door. While his back was turned, Kelia grabbed her trusted blade from her wardrobe and hung it at her waist. She slid on a long, black overcoat, hiding it from view. She did not know if she would need to defend herself, but she wanted it on her, just in case. It would probably be confiscated later, she knew, but that was a chance she was willing to take.
“Are you ready then?” Rycroft asked in the doorway, looking at Kelia expectantly. The guard was waiting, too.
“Yes, sir,” Kelia said with a nod.
She followed Rycroft through the door, and the guard, after shutting the door, followed behind her and her handler as they were led downstairs to the foyer.
There was a group of roughly ten Slayers waiting for them. Kelia recognized them as some of The Society’s best—dressed in all black, waiting for them. She even noticed Charles, standing awkwardly with them, as though he knew he did not quite belong but needed to still feel part of something. That must have been where Rycroft had run off to when she’d first began getting dressed—the gather the other Slayers for the mission.
“Charles,” Rycroft said with a smile. “How kind of you to join us.”
“What is he doing here?” Kelia asked before she could stop herself.
He had betrayed her. He had told Rycroft about everything, even after forcing her to accompany him to the Autumn Festival. Charles was a liar. Kelia hated liars. Liars were selfish, vicious people who only looked out for themselves and did not care one way or the other how their actions affected those around them.
“I’m surprised you have such animosity against your companion, Ms. Starling,” Rycroft said, clearly delighted about Kelia’s obvious anger. “Did he not do you a favor by accompanying you to the festival?”
“I do not think favor is the correct word,” Kelia said through gritted teeth.
“Kelia, I am sorry—” Charles said before he was stopped by a glare from Rycroft.
“Never apologize for putting your society first, lad,” he said. “The group is greater than self. You have proven that. It would not surprise me if the council gave you an accommodation for what you have done. You, quite possibly, saved Ms. Starling’s life.”
Charles seemed pleased by this. Kelia still wanted to vomit. The fact of the matter was, her life was never in danger. She trusted Drew much more than she ever trusted Rycroft.
“Are we ready to go then?” Rycroft asked, clapping his hands together.
He asked the question so jovially, as though they were going on a walk or some kind of training. There was excitement in his eyes. He reminded Kelia of a schoolboy on Christmas morning, eager to open his presents and see what he was given.
Kelia kept her mouth shut. She knew the question was rhetorical. Instead, she kept focused on Charles, on glaring at him, on letting him know he completely ruined her and that he did not save her life, he had just condemned it.
It was a hard truth for her to learn, that someone like him could betray her. Perhaps, it was her fault. She had taken him for granted. Kelia had never taken Charles seriously, as a potential suitor and as a Slayer. She had dismissed him without even giving him much of a chance. That was her fault. And now, because of her clear lack of interest in him, he had sought to follow her, to try to understand why she wasn’t interested in him because it clearly wasn’t him.
She nearly snorted at the thought. Charles had no business following her. She was a Slayer, much more talented than he ever was and ever would be. She did not need protection. She did not need anything from him.
“Let’s head off then,” Rycroft said. “Ms. Starling, you take the lead. You are much more familiar with the way we’re headed since you’ve been so many times before. Charles, you take the back, and if she begins to lead us in a direction that is not where we should be headed, you let us know immediately.”
Charles nodded once. His eyes still tried to find Kelia’s, but Kelia avoided his. She refused to look at him, to even acknowledge his presence. She was grateful to be at the front of the group, where she would not see Charles at all so long as she didn’t look behind her.
As they headed out in the quiet, crisp night, the cold swept across Kelia’s cheeks, soothing her. The velvet blackness seemed to say that everything would be all right. She hoped they did not run into Jennifer on their way, but if Jennifer was able to track down Emma, she would be coming from town, which was in the opposite direction.
It took a good long hour before they reached the shores of the east side of the island. There was no ship on the water. The waves were still. No boat in the sand.
He had made it. Drew Knight had escaped.
A smile slipped onto her face, and she did not bother to hide it.
Chapter 23
In a flash, Kelia’s hands were thrust behind her back, her cutlass was ripped from its sheath on her right hip, and her hands were bound with thick rope. She allowed the two guards to be rough with her. The moment she saw that the rowboat was gone on the cool sandy beach, she knew Jennifer had been successful and Drew was gone. She felt nothing but relief, especially when a group of men had gone up ahead and claimed they saw his ship leaving.
Rycroft’s face of indifference broke as he whirled around and strode toward Kelia, getting so close to her face as he spoke that spit hit her skin. She tried not to wince, did not want him to think he could use such tactics to intimidate her. However, she could not suppress the shudder that slid down her spine when his saliva touched her.
“Where is he?” he demanded, baring his teeth.
His cold eyes were narrowed, and his face began to turn red. She had to bite the inside of her bottom lip to keep from grinning; she knew that would only aggravate him further. While Rycroft tended to be clearheaded and rationally inclined, she could tell he had a temper that was not to be trifled with. And those tempers were typically unpredictable, which meant every word she said now was under his radar, under his sharp eyes and would be dissected even further than he normally would.
Kelia took a step back before she could stop herself. She did not know where Drew was, to be honest, and for that, she was glad. There was a good chance they would torture her and beat her to attempt to extract that information from her, but if she did not know, she would have nothing to say, which meant Drew would remain safe.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled, lifting her gaze to Rycroft. She had to seem surprised that he was gone even though Rycroft would know she had something to do with this disappearance. “He was there. His ship was always docked right there. His boat was positioned there on the sand. You must believe me.”
Rycroft bit his bottom lip before whirling around and sending a spray of sand from under his feet everywhere. He found Charles in the darkness. “You,” he snapped. “Has she led us to the correct place? Is she lying?”
Charles looked from Kelia to Rycroft. In his eyes, she could see that he barely remembered himself. Kelia almost felt bad for him, to be under such pressure from his superior. Charles was never good at handling pressure or stress, which was why he was a blacksmith apprentice rather than an actual Slayer who was dispatched to missions.
But then, Kelia didn’t feel sorry for him. This was the bed he made, and now he had to lie in it.
“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I remember this beach. There was a boat she would use to get to the ship.”
“Where is he?” Rycroft bellowed again.
He turned back to Kelia, and, without warning, slapped her hard across the face with the back of his hand. Charles lunged forward, screaming something that sounded like “Sir!” but Kelia could not see what had happened and did not particularly care. Her ears were ringing, and her face tingled. Rycroft had a surprisingly hard slap. She almost respected him for that.
“Hold your place, boy!” Rycroft said, sending a glare to Charles. “This wretch continued an elicit relationship with Drew Knight, a notoriously dangerous Sea Shadow. She has put us all in danger with her betrayal.”
“If you want to protect us, why not just stop creating Sea Shadows in the first place?” Kelia asked. She should not have said it. Now Rycroft knew she knew, which meant there was a very good chance he would kill her. But she had held her tongue long enough, and the words took advantage of her relieved state and jumped out before she could stop them.
Rycroft froze, then took a solid, slow step toward her. She had no idea what he was going to do to her, if he would strike her again or if he would grab her and shake. Or perhaps he would loom over her and glare. He did want to do something to her, that much was certain. But she knew that he had to be careful how he reacted because there was a good chance that reacting too harshly to that would give himself away.
He laughed suddenly, a deep, loud laugh that haunted her soul like an abandoned church bell. His eyes were cold and hard, but as his attention was directed only at her, she doubted anyone else would see it.
“What has that Sea Shadow been spewing at you?” Rycroft asked. “And do you really have such ignorance to believe him? Has he been binding you to his spell? Manipulating your thoughts? Using your inexperience, your romantic feelings, to make you feel things? Tell you things that are outright lies? And here I thought you were cleverer than that.”
But it was too late. Kelia had seen the utter fear in his eyes, and she knew her words were true. And Rycroft knew that she knew, which did not bode well for how he might punish her.
It would be harsher than he originally planned, that much she knew. The warning was easy to read in his eyes, like a book.
Like her father’s journal.
Which meant there was absolutely no way Rycroft knew she had possession of it. And Kelia needed to ensure it stayed that way. Perhaps she could give it to Jennifer for safekeeping. Jennifer had proven trustworthy, a true friend. There was no reason to assume she would do anything to betray Kelia now.
What Kelia did need to find out was who smuggled her the journal in the first place, and where the missing pages went.
It had to be a Sightless. She knew that much. They were probably instructed to collect everything from her father’s room, so The Society could destroy any evidence that might damn them. That, and they probably wanted some information about what, exactly, her father knew.
Currently, the journal was tucked away under her mattress. No one was able to notice a difference; it was wrapped up in her sheets. No one would think to even search her room because doubtfully anyone knew he even had a journal.
Except the Sightless who snuck it to her.
“You’re right,” Kelia said, her voice monotone as she looked at Rycroft. There was a good chance he might slap her again. Perhaps he would do worse. She would not show fear, however. Whatever he gave to her, whatever pain and punishment he planned to instill on her, she would take. “I have no idea what I am saying.”
Kelia’s arms were starting to hurt due to the tightness of the rope behind her back and how it tugged at her shoulders. She rubbed her lips together and took a slow breath, her eyes carefully narrowed on her handler, trying to predict what he would do next.
“I am quite disappointed in you, Ms. Starling,” Rycroft said. He lowered his voice so only she would hear him. Very softly, he asked again, “Tell me now. Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” Kelia said, keeping her voice low just as his was. She kept her voice crisp, her words more biting than they typically were. But it was clear she had no regret in her tone. “I took you to where I met him each time I came here. Even Charles has confirmed it. If he left, I do not know where he would have gone to. It doesn’t surprise me. Drew Knight is not an idiot. He knows you are hunting him. It wouldn’t behoove him to stay in the same spot for long.”
Rycroft took another step forward. “Yes,” he said slowly. “But no one knew he was even here. No one except you. If he trusted you, why would he leave the very night you bring us to him?”
“I do not know if he ever truly trusted me,” Kelia told him.
Rycroft looked as though he did not quite believe her. “You met multiple times,” he said. He slid his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “Why?”
“Why, what?” she asked.
“What is your reason for meeting with him?” Rycroft asked. “What would someone like him want with someone like you?”
Kelia had to think quickly. She took in a breath, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Why do you think a man is ever interested in a woman?” she asked him, cocking her head to the side.
With those words, Kelia knew her reputation was instantly ruined. She knew Rycroft and everyone else, for that matter, would regard her as a Fang Whore, a girl who was blinded by lust and the feeling of utter ecstasy when a Sea Shadow’s fangs slid into her neck and drew out her blood.
Kelia had never been interested in anything of the sort. The sensuality that all Sea Shadows possessed was certainly intriguing, but Kelia had always been secretly afraid of the feeling. She did not understand the feeling of lust. Certainly, she had been attracted to a particular set of individuals in her lifetime, but never to the point of uncontrollable desire. Since she knew Shadows inspired such feelings, she chose to stay away from them, chose to avoid having anything to do with them unless it required killing or detaining.
That was before Drew Knight, of course.
Drew Knight possessed the ability to make the knees go weak and the breath vanish completely. And that was something Kelia was sure had nothing to do with what he was, but rather, who he was. Kelia felt she had done a good job of avoiding such a stirring in her own bones, but the possibility was certainly there. She would be a fool to say otherwise. As such, it made the perfect excuse as to why she would be meeting with the Shadow past curfew in secret. Because she lusted after him. That was believable, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
She tried to look indifferent, the way a woman with experience might, but she could still feel her cheeks turn pink, even alluding to engaging in sexual activity with anyone, let alone a Shadow. She was just glad it was dark, and hoped that Rycroft’s poor eyes could not see the redness of her cheeks.
Rycroft immediately understood what she was insinuating, his eyes widening in shock. She was surprised, quite frankly, and even though her stomach churned with guilt—not for disappointing him, but for ruining her reputation to protect her secrets, she had to do it this way. They would not question her if she pretended to be possessed by lust for a Sea Shadow. It was a common symptom, and it happened to those who entangled themselves too deeply with them.
“You little whore,” he said, almost spitting the words. He gripped her shoulder tightly, leaned down so his face was close to hers once again. “You let him touch you in places only your husband should. You let him between your legs. You allowed his dead seed to crawl up your cunt like goddamn spiders, laying their eggs in your womb. You filthy piece of garbage. You will be punished for such sins.”
“I understand,” Kelia murmured, her lips curling into a small grin. “But it was a risk I was willing to take. It was worth every moment of pleasure.”
Before she knew it was coming, Rycroft reached out and slapped her once more. Pain blistered across her face, but Kelia smirked inwardly. She had managed to rile him up to the point where the unruffled handler lost his composure twice and struck his ward.
“How?” he barked out as he grabbed her wrists, knocking them together. “How? What would Drew Knight ever see in you to risk a relationship, however flimsy it might be?”
Kelia tasted blood in her mouth. She spat it out before she swallowed it. “I cannot speak for him,” she told him. Her face burned; she could feel it turning red. “But I met him in town. He walks around, completely unafraid of you. Completely unafraid of The Society.”
This was all a lie, of course. Drew Knight was smarter than that, to walk around in a town filled with Slayers and no protection other than the powers he had as a Shadow. But Rycroft did not need to know that.
“He laughs at you,” she continued, pl
aying with his wrath and not particularly caring. “He laughs at all of you.”
Rycroft grunted. Kelia had a feeling he would not hit her again, especially not in front of his men. If he wanted to maintain the calm, cool, collected reputation he had worked so hard to achieve, then he needed to calm himself down and think of a way to get the power back. Right now, Kelia had all the power, and she did not plan on returning it so easily.
“What if this is all a joke?” one of the Slayers asked, stepping toward the pair. “What if she had never been meeting with Drew Knight at all? What would Drew Knight want with her? She’s nothing, a no one. The daughter of a sinner condemned to hell for his selfish behavior.”
“Perhaps that is what makes them perfect companions,” Rycroft said. “She comes from a sinful family.”
“It is not a lie,” Charles said, stepping into the conversation. There was a stubborn look on his face, which was uncharacteristic for how gentle he typically came across. “I saw Drew Knight myself. He looked exactly as he did in the text we have studied over and over. That face is stained into my mind. I saw him on his ship, staring at Kelia as she made her way on the boat.”
“What boat?” the Slayer asked.
“Mr. Kent,” Rycroft warned. “Charles would have no reason to lie to us. You forget easily that his parents were slaughtered by Sea Shadows when he was a young boy. He would not forget the face of the monster who ripped his mother’s throat out and danced in her blood, would he?”
Kelia’s mouth went dry. She had forgotten Charles was an orphan, his parents dead because of a Shadow attack. At least, that was what they were told. That was why he was brought here in the first place. If anyone would be open to indoctrination—would be loyal as though The Society was family—it would be someone like Charles.
In that moment, Kelia almost forgave him for his actions. Almost.
“Clearly, whoever the Shadow was,” another Slayer said, “they’re not here now.”
“No,” Rycroft agreed, his eyes focusing back on Kelia almost accusingly, as though this was entirely her fault. And, truth be told, it was. “He is not. I suppose we have no choice but to return to headquarters.”
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