“Nobody fears the dead,” Drew snapped. “Burn him.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Benji’s fury seemed about enough to make him combust. “If you kill me, the Queen will just send more Shadows just as loyal, eager to please her, who will jump at the opportunity. You will never be free from her. Surely you must know that. You will only anger her further if you kill me."
Drew dropped his head back and laughed. Then he snapped his attention back to the Shadow, his expression as dead serious as his tone. “The Queen doesn’t give a shit about you.”
“But you care about her,” the Shadow said, slanting his gaze toward Kelia. Her skin crawled. “And then Queen’s going to kill her.”
Drews fangs slid out, his face contorted, and his entire body seemed to swell, taking up more space in the room than seemed possible. Kelia had never seen him look so beastly before.
"Burn him," Drew said, his tone a thousand times more chilling than the first time he made the order. “Now!”
Just as Daniella extended her arms and her mouth opened to shout an incantation, someone wrapped their arm around Kelia's throat.
"I would hesitate, my darling!"
Grayson's voice rang through the room like a church bell across a valley. Everyone froze. He had his other arm extended out in front of them. Had he used his own magic to get everyone to freeze? There was no way Drew would allow anyone to grab hold of her without jumping into action, even if she had just told him not to. And if not for the wrinkle in Daniella’s brow, Kelia wouldn’t have been able to see how frustrated the witch was. The strain in her arm indicated she was trying to shift her attention to assisting Kelia, so Grayson must have been preventing her from doing so.
Her suspicion was confirmed when his powers wrapped around Kelia's own body; she was not able to move her hand with her blade. Her mind continued to instruct, order, and plead, but no matter what she did, she was not able to move.
"Now that I have my bearings," he said, clearing his voice. "I can finally take this girl to the Queen. Benji, it's always been a pleasure, but considering how bruised and broken you leave my girls, I'm not so sorry that Drew Knight will kill you in a manner of seconds after I've made my leave. Sorry to inform you, but you won’t be the Queen’s pride and joy this lifetime. I'll be the one she trusts. I'll be the one she rewards. Not some vicious, vile creatures."
He spit for emphasis. Kelia could not even flinch when his saliva speckled across her skin as she was still trapped by his magic.
"You're dead," Drew said. His voice was low, his eyes a bright, livid brown directed at Grayson. Despite his words, he was frozen where he stood.
"I doubt it, Drew Knight," Grayson said. Kelia could hear the smile in his tone without seeing it. "The Queen will protect me. That's what I've always wanted, you see. Control over my own island, more riches than I can count, and her protection. I will soon be the most powerful Mage in the world. Supernaturals—Lycans, Shadows, witches—will patron my island because I will make them feel safe. And I will do that because the Queen will grant me that protection from the East India Company, from every human who wants to rid the world of our kind.”
“You’ve lost your damn mind,” Drew said, growling. “Who will feel safe with you knowing you throw your own customers to the wolves?”
“Well, the wolves, of course,” Grayson said with a laugh. “Certainly you've heard the Lycan population is dwindling. They're mating with humans now, witches and humans, in order to keep the legacy going even though the bloodline has been tainted. But they could come here, and I could sell them a human girl. I could help repopulate the Lycan community. And once I find your sister, I would have four elemental witches together. Imagine the possibilities. I would be unstoppable!"
Four elemental witches? Daniella, Emma, and Wendy would only make three. Fire, Earth, Air… Who was his water witch? His sea demon? His Siren?
Benji snarled at Grayson. "You’re a fool if you think the Queen would ever give you such power.”
The Mage shrugged. “I’d say we can agree to disagree, but dead men can’t do either, can they?” He walked over to Kelia and wrapped his arm around her neck. “And besides, I’m about to deliver something to her that’s far more precious than power.”
Chapter 12
Grayson Briggs muttered something Kelia could not quite get the gist of. She thought to her schooling and deduced it sounded like Latin, or some form of it, but she could not figure out what was actually being said.
Ash sprayed everywhere. Whatever Grayson did caused Benji to disintegrate. A chill shot up Kelia’s spine so fast her old scars panged in response. If he had the ability to do that, what was to stop him from doing the same to Drew?
Oh, right. The Queen. He was trying to get in her favor, and she clearly wanted Drew alive.
Just the same, the fact that he had that capability made him more dangerous than Kelia realized. Death controlled by a simple spell? Did Wendy, Emma, and Daniella possess such a power?
Suddenly, Kelia became painfully aware just how little she knew about this world. The witches were ruled by the elements—or, at least, their magic was. Were Mages different? Were they controlled by something similar, or could they use their powers limitless?
Surely there had to be some limit?
Whatever the case was, it was clear this mage, at least, was using some kind of dark magic, and Kelia wasn’t keen on learning the extent of his abilities first hand. She and her friends needed to escape. Immediately.
Kelia’s body tingled, and she realized she could move again. She took her arm holding the blade and jabbed it backward so it hit Grayson's stomach. There was a grunt behind her, and Kelia pressed deeper. His arm locked around her throat, closing off her wind pipes from taking in oxygen.
But he couldn’t harm her. Not if he wanted to take her to the Queen, which he couldn’t do if she was dead. As bleak as her current predicament appeared, she still had plenty of power.
His warm blood spilled over and slid between her fingers as something trickled onto her shoulder. Grayson's grip on her loosened only slightly, but with it, she was able to turn her head . Blood spilled down from his mouth and onto her tunic.
Strangely, in all this time, no one had come to see what was going on in the room. Certainly they were making noise, unless Grayson had the room enchanted, preventing sound from coming out. It would make sense for a businessman to ensure no secrets slipped passed the doors to eavesdroppers who might hope to take his them to the highest bidder.
Drew leapt from behind Grayson and ripped him away from Kelia. The force was so strong and so quick, Kelia fell back, too. Her blade clattered to the floor. Drew did not so much as spare Kelia a look. His focus was solely on Grayson.
Emma stepped forward and knelt down beside her, and for the first time since Kelia had known her, there was fear in the witch’s dark eyes.
"Are you hurt?" Emma asked, an urgency to her low voice.
Kelia shook her head and picked herself up, though Emma insisted on helping her. With shaking hands, Kelia bent back down to pick up her bladet. She couldn’t seem to process what had occurred. This whole evening was becoming too much for her to handle, but it didn’t appear that a moment to sit with her thoughts and breathe was anywhere in her near future.
After resheathing her weapon, she glanced over at Daniella, who was still in possession of the fireball. Sweat built up on Daniella’s brow, and a worry line ran down the side of her face. Her fingers shook. It didn’t seem she’d be able to hold the flames very much longer.
Emma stepped next to Daniella and gently squeezed her shoulder. Slowly, so slowly, the flames withdrew. They grew smaller and smaller, until there was nothing more than a single flame that would fit perfectly on top of a candle. Emma leaned toward it and blew it out.
The room was pitch black, bringing with it an unnerving calm. They were alive, and it was quiet, but being unable to see anything made Kelia’s stomach churn. What was Drew doing? Ther
e was no sound of struggle, at least, but then, right now, there was no sound of anything.
Although Drew’s Shadow senses allowed him to see perfectly even in darkness, Kelia couldn’t help but feel he might be in need of assistance. If he wasn’t, he would be trying to assist her by now, whether she needed him to or not.
"Drew?” Emma said into the darkness. Her tone held the same urgency, though this time there was a tremble in her voice, as though she was attempting to keep her concern hidden.
"We are not leaving until he is dead," Drew growled from the darkness.
"We need to leave now," Emma said. “So do what you need to do, but do it quickly.”
“What I need to do,” Drew said, "is set this whole fucking place on fire and watch it burn to the ground."
"You know that is not possible," Emma snapped, her first outward display of emotion. "Kill him, now, and get it over with. Don’t give him the chance to utter a spell that stops himself from dying."
"I want—”
"I know what you want, Shadow. I am asking you to forego your desire to watch the man suffer. I am asking you to end him now so we may leave. We cannot burn this building down. Certainly, you know that. You know Grayson will take precaution to protect his business. Drew."
Kelia held her breath, even though her heart was racing and she wanted nothing more than to catch it.
"Fine," he growled.
From the same direction as his voice, footsteps thudded. Kelia heard the unmistakable sound of ripping flesh, of skin slicing open, that she’d become all too familiar with when she was part of the Society. Somehow, to be deprived of her other senses and forced to rely just on the sound of it made her really hear it for the first time.
Chills sliced up her spine as Drew’s victim, hidden in the shadows, made a loud gurgling sound. A pop echoed in the room, and she flinched.
Then, silence.
Her shoulders eased their tension. That was it, then. It was over.
"Let's go," Drew commanded.
As they left the brothel, Drew could barely utter a word. He was furious: with Emma, for bringing Kelia here; with Kelia, for leaving his ship when she should have stayed put; for Daniella simply for being Daniella. He wanted to run, to get to the ship in seconds. At least, that way, he would know the women were off this bloody island and safe.
Well, as safe as they could be.
But he could not carry them all. So instead of running, he fell into pace with them, ensuring they never left his sight. Granted, he was a few paces ahead of them, stomping around as though he was some spoiled child who did not get his way. The Queen had eyes everywhere. Just because her trio of inept Sea Shadows had perished did not mean she did not have other spies nearby.
"Drew," Emma said slowly. "Where are you leading us? You know I have other business I must tend to. The moon is only full one night each cycle, and since we are here, I want to make sure I purchase appropriate ingredients for any concoctions we might need."
Drew grunted. He stopped stomping and turned, only to see Emma whispering to Daniella. They both gave Kelia sympathetic glances before heading back toward the town. He didn’t even bother to stop them now that he knew they were safe. All he wanted right now was to take Kelia back to the ship.
She met his gaze, though it was difficult to decipher the look on her face. It almost felt as though she was studying him, looking for an answer to a question she had not even asked.
He cleared his throat. He didn’t like those curious eyes on him. They seemed to know too much, especially for someone as young as she was.
"What?" he asked, more abruptly than he anticipated. Hiding a wince, he turned back around and continued to head down the slope that led to the docks. "What is it you want to know, princess? And do not deny your curiosity. It is plain on your face."
"Where do I even begin?" Kelia murmured, hurrying her steps until she was beside him rather than behind him. "I have so many questions, none of which you'll answer, I'm sure. You've been alive for a century, so I suppose I cannot judge you for your poor taste. It is remarkable that it only took one hundred years before you learned your lesson."
His lips curled into a smile despite himself. The tension he held in his shoulders and upper back eased. The gentle lapping of the ocean and the groaning of the ships that lined the dock as they were moved by the water tickled his ears. This was home. These sounds. The crisp scent of salt in the air. Even the darkness that he loathed for years brought out the brightest stars, and the stars could always tell him where he was and where he needed to go.
Surely he could give Kelia one question. Answer her honestly one time, about one thing. Whatever it was that had her face all bunched up as they walked.
As silence hung in the air between them, he turned this idea around in his head. There was a part of him that feared she would ask about her mother, about the Sirens. He was afraid she would ask about the possibility of her survival. Because is she did, he would have to tell her that while he thought they were being their manipulative, lying selves, that yes, it was possible that her mother could be alive.
Possible, but still not likely. He did not want to have that conversation with her. Not now, and maybe not ever. Not if it might inspire her to go looking for more answers and getting herself into more danger. He’d let that happen at the Society, and look where that had lead.
Right now, he needed to take care of the Queen. Needed to kill that woman and ensure she would never be able to get Kelia. Maybe once he did that, he would tell her everything about Sirens. Maybe then they could look at searching for her mother together, without him worrying about the allegiance of the sea witches.
Maybe.
But then again, even without an alliance to the Queen, Sirens were inherently vicious, selfish things. They were more often than not everything people believed Shadows to be: heartless, soulless monsters. They did not care who they hurt, as long as they got what they wanted, which was typically more victims to feed their unquenchable thirst for blood
Another part of him worried she might ask about her time on this island, what he did here and why. He should not concern himself with what others thought—that was in the past, and today was much different than yesterday and the day before. Never had he cared what anyone thought of his past. Not his sister, not even Emma, despite his shame surrounding his inaction.
But something was different when it came to Kelia. He did not want her to know about all that he had been through, all the poor choices he had made, and the consequences as a result of those choices. For some strange reason, he wanted her to think of him as a particular sort of man, and his past would prevent her from doing so. He was not a compassionate, considerate person. He was not a person at all. And yet, when he was around her, that was what he strove to be. That was what he longed for her to view him as.
Human.
Just as they reached one of Drew's rowboats, bobbing up and down in the water, he stopped walking. He turned to face her as a slight breeze lifted a loose strand of hair from her braid, and without properly thinking about it, he stepped forward so there was minimal space between them and curled the strand behind her ear.
He could have imagined it, and maybe it was only because this night was particularly cold and she had been underwater a few hours before, but he swore he felt her shiver under his touch.
And not a shiver of fear. Those he knew too well. This was...different.
She made no move to step back, and neither did he. Not when the pull to be close to her outweighed any fears of what she might think regarding his sudden nearness.
"I'll give you one question," he said, turning from her and breaking the spell. The clunk of their booted feet hitting the wooden docks reverberated louder in the quiet than he was comfortable with. "Ask me anything you want, and I will answer it honestly.”
However, Kelia did not ask him about her mother. She did not ask him about this island. Instead, she tilted her head the side, her eyes—so blue and so green,
he could not look away from them, like some sort of witch's curse—narrowed in on him.
"Do you ever get lonely?" she asked.
Her voice seemed lost to the breeze, but Drew heard it all the same. He forgot what it felt like to get cold and to get hot, but her voice elicited goosebumps up and down his arms and pinched the back of his neck. He had never felt this before, though maybe it had been too long for him to remember. Certainly, he did not feel that way about any woman he had been with over the years.
“Do I...what?" He perked his brow, but his eyes somehow remained at half mast, like he could not quite open them, like he really was under her spell. Perhaps she was a witch, a spell conjurer, but only when it came to him. How powerful she truly was, and it did not appear as though she knew it. "Lonely?"
She nodded. He picked up her heartbeat easily. It was faster than it usually was, indicating to him that she was nervous, perhaps fearful. The only thing he could think of that would cause such behavior was the nearness of them both. If he merely tilted his head downward, their lips would be touching and he would be kissing her, just as she had kissed him back on Port George, as arrows flew in the sky and nearly killed them where they had tumbled after she had knocked him off his feet.
The corner of his mouth quirked up as he remembered the feeling of her soft lips on him, how tentative she was. Nervous, but curious as well. He wondered if he was her first kiss.
The breeze ruffled the loose tunic on her body. It was his, one that had grown smaller with Emma's washing over time. It fit her nicely without overwhelming her petite frame. Flashes of skin peeked out as the cloth moved in the breeze, as though the weather was attempting to tease him.
"I imagine being alive for a hundred years would be more difficult than anticipated," she continued.
Her voice had grown even quieter. Was the sort of voice she would use in the bedroom? He stirred just thinking about it. He turned his head away and cleared his throat.
She was still talking. "—losing people you care about."
Gift of Darkness: Book 3 in The Vampire Pirate Saga Page 10
