Kelia was gleeful. She could not help but have a spring in her step, even though they had disarmed her, taken possession of her blade, and put her hands behind her back, tying her wrists together with thick rope that irritated her skin. Drew had gotten away. She had defied The Society. That was something to be proud of.
And she was.
When they reached the fortress, Rycroft led her down to the dungeons and forced her into a cell. She didn’t hear Christopher, which might have been on purpose. Rycroft removed the rope and slammed the door, muttering something about the punishment she would soon receive.
Kelia was just grateful he let her keep her overcoat. It was cold down here.
She slid down in the far corner of her cell, bringing her knees to her chest to keep herself tightly balled up, and tried to get some sleep.
Chapter 24
Kelia’s bones ached the next morning, but there was a small smile on her face. They had not touched her, surprisingly enough. Not even Rycroft had put a hand on her save for those two slaps when he initially noticed Drew and his ship were long gone.
She had no idea how he did it, but somehow, Drew became invisible. His ship was not even a spec on the horizon. She did not know if that meant he had turned, following the curve of the island the instant he had received the message, or if he managed to escape that quickly. She had never heard of a ship as fast as his, but things had changed now, and what seemed impossible was actually typical.
She shifted her position on the cold ground of her cell. She still was not used to the strong scent of defecation and piss. Christopher was still somewhere here last she heard, which surprised her. She would have thought that they would have removed him immediately, so he would not speak with her, but they did not seem to take him seriously. Which meant even Rycroft believed Infants were not to be taken seriously.
Did Rycroft believe some of The Society’s lies himself? She could potentially use that to her advantage. Somehow. If she ever got herself out of this.
Kelia had been here for an entire twenty-four hours, and she had not even considered creating a plan of escape. She still had not solved the details of her father’s murder. She had her guesses, of course, but that did not mean they were fact. Her father had known things he shouldn’t. That much was certain. Whether he confronted The Society about it or whether his knowledge was discovered, Kelia did not know. And she was certain there were reasons that needed to be uncovered—why did The Society create Sea Shadows? If they did create them, why were they hunting them?
Her father must have known more than she’d discovered, because Rycroft now knew she suspected The Society had created the Sea Shadows, and even that did not seem enough for her to meet her father’s fate. Were these answers in the missing pages?
There were answers she needed to find, answers that needed to be brought to light. If she tried to escape, she would never get those answers. She would always be on the run, always looking over her shoulder, never being able to ever truly get her life back.
But if she stayed…
Of course, Kelia had no idea what they had in store for her. She was certain she would have been publicly punished for her betrayal. It was rare for a Slayer to betray The Society due to how well they indoctrinated their beliefs in their students. But when it did happen, it was cause for great concern. The Society was harsh and unforgiving, but at the same time, merciful in that they never killed a betrayer—except those that apparently preferred marriage over life as a Slayer. Instead, they sent them to rehabilitation, which was so secret, it had its own wing in the fortress.
Kelia took in a deep breath. The putrid smell of piss and blood came at her with such force, she nearly gagged. Her head rested against the uneven bricks, and she took in a deep breath, doing her best to ignore the smell. She could not hear Christopher in his cell, but she knew he was there. She wondered if Rycroft noticed his treasure was missing, if he knew Christopher was in possession of it, if he had yet taken it back. She was glad she was able to take the ring, though. She hoped the Sea Shadow’s fiancée was all right. If she was somewhere here, perhaps she could help her.
But how? Kelia couldn’t even help herself.
It was a fool’s thought to entertain, but she had nothing but time and silence, and it was in these stretches of hours where Kelia could not help but think about all the things she should not be thinking of.
Like Drew Knight.
She should not have been thinking about him. She blamed the time and the darkness. But she hoped he was all right. Hoped he was safe.
Perhaps it was the fact she had not eaten in a while, but she began to think of something as unimportant as his smile. Sea Shadows were notorious for baring their teeth, not smiling. And yet, Drew had such an easy smile that completely took her breath away. It was a smile she enjoyed looking at, even better when she made it happen.
He was beautiful, too beautiful for words. Before, she would never allow herself to feel such things for him. However, the truth of the matter was his beauty was fact rather than opinion. She could not argue with evidence. His eyes were deep and soulful, and they always seemed to have a sparkle of mischievousness embedded in them. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his jawline masculine and defined. His height was not as tall as most of the Shadows and typically, his crew towered over him. However, he had a commanding presence and eyes were drawn to him rather than anyone else. His body was strong and filled with muscle; there were times when they were training and she could feel his strength ripple off his body like thunder during a storm.
Kelia sighed and shook her head. She could not even be upset with herself for thinking of him in such a way. She was tired. She was sore. And she was grateful that everyone managed to get away. The cool metal of the bars calmed her just a bit. However, she felt something slick on her skin, and when she withdrew her hands, realized there was some strange substance on her hand. She let out a shriek, wiping her hands on her clothes as quickly as she could. She did not want to even think what it could be.
At that moment, the door from the entranceway creaked open. She lifted her head, looking in the direction of the staircase with a curious expression on her face. This was what Christopher heard each time she came to ask him for more information. She wondered if he knew that she was not going to harm him in any way, or if there was a tremor of trepidation that coursed through his body every time that creak pierced the silence. She had not realized what it felt like being the prisoner, did not realize what it meant to constantly look over her shoulder, wondering who was coming and what they wanted.
The footsteps were heavy and ominous. Kelia had yet to be afraid of much, but this waiting of what was to come, the anticipation, was starting to make her feel undone.
At a moment, Rycroft finally made his appearance, standing directly in front of her cell. There was a dark smile that pinched his cheeks, and his eyes gleefully took in the small cell.
“I did not realize how utterly delighted I would be at this moment,” he told her. “I get to make an example out of you, as I should have made one out of your father.”
“My father?” Kelia said, wincing. It even hurt to speak.
Rycroft’s grin only deepened. “Your father was not the man you thought he was, my dear.” He knelt so he could look her in the eye. “Now, shut your mouth. Stand up. You smell wretched.”
“My lodgings aren’t exactly sanitary,” Kelia muttered as she forced herself to stand. It took her a moment since she had been sitting for such a long period of time. She tried to mask the grimace that touched her face, but she couldn’t. Not completely. She wanted nothing more than to explore Rycroft’s mention of her father, but she was certain he was just saying it to rile her up. There was no truth in that statement.
“They aren’t,” Rycroft agreed, still smiling, his eyes still sparkling, “are they?”
He was loud with the clanging metal as he inserted the rusted key and turned the lock.
“Hands behind your back,” he i
nstructed brusquely. “Turn around. And no funny business or I will shoot you on sight and then feed you to your companion.” He nodded in Christopher’s direction. “No one would blame me. Not with your reputation. Not with why you were in here.”
Kelia did not respond to his barbs. Let him think she was in a sexual relationship with Drew Knight. It was better than him learning the truth.
“Everyone knows about you,” Rycroft said as Kelia slowly placed her hands behind her back. “Everyone knows how easily you spread your legs for a Shadow. Pathetic girl. Weak. We’re giving you a mercy by keeping you here, housing you, feeding you. But the others need to be warned that such behavior will not be tolerated. As such, you will be punished sufficiently. And I will give out the punishment myself, since I was your handler.”
He led her slowly up the steps and down the long hall. Kelia already knew where they were going—the yard outside. This was where her punishment would be. In the square.
As they stepped out to the yard, Kelia kept her head held high. The entire fortress was outside, sitting and waiting to see what would happen. Some seemed surprised when they saw Kelia in chains, being led to the gallows. Except there was no hangman’s noose here, no door that would drop open and snap a neck. The Slayers had gallows so they could position the one being punished in front of everyone else. She would not be hanged, but she would be punished.
Kelia’s heart hammered in her chest as her booted feet headed up the wooden stairs until she reached the platform. She wore exactly what she had been two nights ago, when she saw that Drew had managed to steal away just in time. They had confiscated her sword, but they let her keep her boots. A small token of either kindness or ignorance.
When she got to the center, Rycroft placed a hand on her shoulder and shoved her to her knees.
“Slayers, students,” he bellowed. Instantly, the whispering and the noises stopped. The sun was beating hard on the bodies, warming the stone and the wood. Kelia could feel herself start to sweat in her fitted suit. At least she was able to remove the skirt. “I am not going to drag this out. This is what happens when you put the lives of your fellow Slayers in danger. This is what happens when you give into temptation, when you give into your blood lust, when you spread your legs for a Sea Shadow and allow his seed to enter your body, condemning you to hell. There is never a justification for lying with a Shadow. I would rather have you die than allow them to possess you in any way.”
Without warning, Rycroft stood behind her and placed his hand flat on her back. He took a knife and cut through the material of her uniform, so the skin of her back was exposed. He let his hand run up and down her skin, and she nearly vomited.
“This is going to hurt me as much as it hurts you,” he said. Somehow, she doubted that. It was clear he would delight in this.
There was a brief pause. She heard him back away from her body, retrieving something. Kelia tried to keep her face neutral while simultaneously attempting to figure out what he was doing, what exactly was happening.
She heard the crack of the whip before she felt the pain. Before she felt her skin rip open and heat rush to the surface of her skin. She cried out in agony before she could stop herself.
Kelia hated she had shown how much pain she was in. She hated that she had screamed.
It was odd; Kelia was familiar with lashings. Nearly all the Sightless endured a public lashing before. She had always thought that if she was ever in a position where she would require such punishment—whether it was here or due to Sea Shadows trying to torture information out of her—she would be able to handle it, to grit herself against the pain. It would hurt, she knew, but she would be able to control her reaction, to control herself enough so no one would know what she felt.
She was wrong. She was so, so wrong.
The lashings hurt like nothing she had ever experienced before. After that first one, she realized how naive she had been. Not just about her pain endurance and her stubbornness, but about everything. About her quick temper. About how she thought she could solve her father’s murder alone. About how those she deemed as unworthy and meaningless—Charles—were snakes just waiting to strike. If she had made different choices, perhaps opened her mind a tad and was not so stubborn and insistent that she was right about everything, there was a good chance she would not be here, experiencing this in front of her former colleagues.
The second one hurt worse than the first, only because the whip was now teasing an open wound. It was like salt had not just been sprinkled into the lashing, it had been rubbed in. She bit her bottom lip so hard she could taste the blood in her mouth. She might have screamed after the first one, but she would be damned if she let the same thing happen to her during the second.
One more. All she had to endure was one more…
The third hurt just as much as the second, but it did not exceed the pain. That was a small reprieve. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she nearly spit out her excess saliva with relief.
It was over. She could relax now.
Another crack hit the air, causing Kelia to wonder if that was thunder from far off. She only had a moment before the fourth lashing hit her with such force she nearly stumbled forward so she was flat on her stomach.
What was going on? Three lashes were the typical punishment for betrayal.
A fifth lashing struck her, and she didn’t bother to conceal the pain any longer. She cried out. She did not care if she was ridiculed for her weakness. She did not care if she cried in front of all of these people. She just wanted the whipping to stop.
By the time the tenth lashing struck, Kelia could not take the pain any longer and slipped into a tormented unconsciousness.
Chapter 25
Kelia could feel another presence in her cell even before she opened her eyes. She tensed her body, trying to listen, trying to hear if she could decipher who it was. She hated she had been so badly injured that she could not even hear someone creeping up because of how deeply unconscious she was.
At that moment, she was hit by the memory of what happened to get her into such a state. The pain started to return, and she could not help but let out a low groan. She was still in the same clothes, and judging by the tight burning sensation she could feel in her back, they had not given her anything for her wounds. She felt hot. She felt… If she didn’t get cleaned up, she would get an infection. If the infection was bad, there was a chance she might die. Perhaps that was Rycroft’s plan the whole time. He was not going to outwardly kill her; he would just let her die from her injuries.
“You silly girl,” a familiar voice said, his sensual voice a shred above a whisper.
Kelia’s eyes snapped open, and she found Drew Knight himself, standing in the corner of her cell. Somehow, the cell was closed, though the lock was displaced. How he was able to get here…
“What are you doing here?” she managed to get out.
“I’m here to whisk you away to my ship where I can treat your wounds and get you away from this place,” he told her, squatting in front of her.
Without hesitation, he reached out and pushed tendrils of hair away from her face, curling them behind her ears. She closed her eyes at the touch, leaning into it. She couldn’t find it in herself to feel shame, to feel upset she was enjoying his touch, and, more than that, revealing such a thing for him to see.
“I cannot go with you,” she found herself staying. “I have to stay here.”
There was a smile in his voice she could not see because his eyes were still closed. “And why is that?” he asked. His hands were still cupping her cheeks, his fingers caressing her skin as though they were secret lovers, enjoying the minimal time they had to spend with each other.
Drew Knight, her lover. She nearly snorted at the thought.
“My work here is not complete,” she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. She managed to crack open one eye. “I still need to figure out what happened to my father.”
Drew sighed. She coul
d hear the frustration in it, somehow. Her lips quirked up into a small smile.
“Is this a response you did not want to hear, Mr. Knight?” she mumbled, closing her eyes once again, trying to ignore the searing pain from her back. Her voice cracked, however, and she knew he must know that she was not all right.
“It is a stubborn response,” he said. “One I should have expected from you.”
“And you?” she asked. “Why are you here? You never answered my question.”
There was a heavy pause. Kelia shifted her eyes to get a read on his face as best as she could from her position on the cold floor. She hated lying on her stomach, the way her breasts were pressed into the flat surface. But if she moved, she would be in even more pain than she already was.
“I came to thank you,” he told her, his voice stoic, almost hard to read. Much like his face. It was beautiful in its hardness, and she could not help but allow her eyes to linger on his high cheekbones and his sculpted jaw. She did not even care anymore that he would notice her staring at him, what that might imply. “Your advanced warning gave us the time we needed to change positions and find another spot on the island to anchor.”
“You should not tell me where you are,” Kelia told him. “The Society could continue to try to extract that information, and the less I know, the less I’ll be able to tell them.”
“Why?” Drew asked, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his dark eyes on her frame. “Why did you do this?”
Kelia swallowed, her throat raw. She needed something to drink, some water. But, she did not think Drew had anything that would make her feel better besides his presence.
“Do what?” she asked.
“This.” His voice was sharp, as though he was annoyed with her. Perhaps even angry. “Why did you allow yourself to get in this predicament? You should have…” He shook his head. “You must allow me to take you away from here.”
Sea of Darkness Page 20