The rest of that night, Drew could not sleep. He didn’t like that Kelia was not with him, but he also didn’t like that she left because of the words that fell out of his mouth.

He paced his quarters, hands behind his back, breeches on with no shirt, and most definitely no boots of his feet. Outside, the rain fell like the keys on a piano playing a fast-paced waltz. Drew found not comfort in that as he normally would.

Releasing a sigh, he tried to think of a way to make this better. He doubted he could win Kelia over with his words. That was what had landed him in this predicament in the first place.

He stopped his pacing and let out a growl. Before he could decide what to do, there was a knock on the door. He stiffened. The guest didn’t smell like Kelia, and as such, he was already disappointed and half-considered not even answering it.

The knocking persisted, however, so he opened the door to find Emma, her dark eyes accusing, her brow furrowed, and her shoulders back. Drew didn’t bother to hide his face as he rolled his eyes and, without a word, stepped away from the door, a silent indicator for her to come in if she wished.

"How did you know I was not entertaining a guest?" he asked as the door quietly slid shut.

"Because the only guest you would ever entertain—and judging from your lack of attire and her knotted hair, I assume you already have—is currently belowdeck, in our room, trying and failing to go to sleep," Emma said. "Since she was there, meaning she is clearly not here, and as such, that you would be alone, I figured I would come here to let you know that your order of blood is already here, tucked away carefully.”

Drew waved her off.

“I've already enchanted them to stay cold for our journey until they are consumed,” she continued. “So, the blood will not go bad."

Drew turned and nodded, then slid down, sitting on the edge of his bed before crossing his arms over his chest. He gazed out at the wooden floor in front of him, gently gnawing his bottom lip.

"I told her she needed protecting," Drew murmured before he could stop himself.

He didn’t expect to tell Emma this, but he couldn’t help himself. He trusted Emma and, perhaps, she could help him figure out how to get Kelia to understand that he didn’t mean to offend her.

"She does need protecting," Emma agreed, "but that does not mean you must treat her as though she is incapable. She is still strong, Drew."

"I know that," he snapped, resting his hands on his thighs. How could he get this across? He needed Kelia to understand his desire to protect her. She didn’t know what the Queen was like. Even Drew could not imagine all the things that vile Shadow might do to Kelia. "Of course I know that. But..."

"You will not be around to protect her all the time," Emma said firmly, entertaining what he had to say even less than Kelia had. "The Queen's reach is too powerful to ignore. Even you know that. Kelia should learn how to defend herself, just in case she falls into the Queen's hands. Instead of preparing her, though, you’ve been preventing her from learning to protect herself.”

"If I prepare her, then I'm assuming such a thing will happen." Drew rubbed his hands on his thighs. He lifted his gaze so he could look at Emma, who stood just in front of the door. "I cannot even think it."

"Do not kid yourself, Drew Knight," Emma murmured. "We have been lucky these past months, but there will come a time when neither of us—when not Wendy or even Daniella or the loyal Shadows in your crew—will be able to protect her. You know that what I say is true. She will fall into the hands of the Queen. You must prepare her for it. You must have faith that she has the fortitude to withstand the Queen and her treachery. You must show her that you trust her to care for herself."

Drew looked away. He did not want to admit it, but perhaps, Emma was right.

"And how do I do that?" Drew stood, stretching. The rain continued to fall, thunder breaking the sky with a loud boom.

Emma did not even flinch. "You tell her how," she said. "You show her. You know that she was almost taken by a Siren again?"

Drew stiffened. "What?"

"I was watching, from a distance."

Drew took a lunging step toward Emma, stopping himself before he went any farther. “You saw this and did not stop it?”

“See?” Emma said. “This is what I mean. And what I think Kelia means, too. You don’t believe in her, but she is capable. I know that, and that’s why I stood back. And do you know what happened?”

Drew felt like he was going to be sick. Obviously Kelia was safe, but the idea that Emma had stood back make his stomach churn.

“She wouldn’t have stood back if it were you being lured by the Siren,” he said with a growl.

Emma waved him off. “Kelia saw through their lie, Drew. When given the opportunity, she realized the truth.”

“The last time, the Siren pulled her underwater!”

“You’re still not getting it,” Emma all but ground out between her teeth. “She is learning this world. Quicker than you give her credit for. She realized the Sirens don’t have her mother, and even learned they are conspiring to take Kelia to the Queen. Don’t you get it? Everyone is after her. Your own crew even attempted to—”

"Which is why she must be with me always," Drew said, storming past Emma. He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "You understand, do you not? She cannot be trusted to wander off alone if she was almost taken by a bloody Siren—”

"I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to treat her like a child," Emma said. "I told you this because you must realize that there are too many forces working against you and your flimsy desire of protection. Please, Drew. You are not the only person who cares for her. Teach her what she can do to protect herself.”

He was nearly shaking as the next growl rolled through his chest. “Fine, then,” he said through his teeth. “Then I will train her.”

But as he went to pull the door, Emma’s hand came on his arm to stop him. Not that she physically could, but it was enough to give him pause.

He glared at her. “What now?”

“Let her have this time away from you first," she said. “Then go to her.”

"But—”

"It wasn’t a suggestion,” she snapped.

"Stop interrupting me, damn you," Drew shouted. He had not meant to do such a thing, but he could not help it as the words flew out of his mouth to slap Emma across the face. He pointedly looked away, slowly walking to his desk where the map of Sangre still rested, the corners curling inward. "I will not allow her to be taken, Emma. There is no reason for her to learn how to fight the Queen."

"You're afraid."

Drew snapped his head up once more. "I beg your pardon? I’m Drew Knight. Drew Knight is afraid of nothing."

"You think Kelia will not love you," Emma said. It was unnerving to see Emma had not even moved her arms during this conversation. "You think she will hate you, or fear you, after everything that happened in your past. Because if you reveal this to her, if you tell her everything there is to know about the Queen, you are admitting that there was a time when—"

"The physical act of sexual pleasure does not move my heart." Drew clutched the edge of his desk, restraining from sinking his nails into the wood and throwing the large piece of furniture across the room. "Just because I indulged before does not mean I ever loved her."

"I know that,” Emma said, her voice softer now. She looked at him with an expression that was difficult, even with his heightened ability, to make out through the darkness. "And if you trust Kelia, I'm certain she will understand that as well."

Drew sneered.

"Leave me," he said, waving a hand.

He had never given Emma an order, and Emma had never followed one. But in that moment, Emma slipped out of his room, closing the door behind her.

When he was alone, he let out a grunt, standing, and crawled into bed to stare at the ceiling. He needed sleep to come. Tomorrow, they would set off to Sangre, and once they were there, he could kill the Queen and everything would be fine again.

In the little time Drew slept, he dreamt of the Queen.

She went by the name Tatiana then. He didn’t know what she was, but upon first laying eyes on her, he was stricken by her beauty. Pale skin, ink-black hair that went past her breasts, piercing blue eyes, ruby-red lips.

The color of blood, now that he thought about it.

And that smile... Drew did not quite know how to describe it. It was as though she knew what was going to happen just before it did and found amusement in her knowing.

He used to adore that smile. Now it made him shudder painfully and squeeze his eyes shut so he would not have to experience it with any sense.

But his eyes were already shut, and he could not escape the nightmarish sleep, even as he realized that was what it was.

The Queen’s voice was low and inviting, alluring and seductive. He still remembered the way she said his name, the way her cool fingers would run through his hair.

If he could go into his mind and remove these piece of his past with a silver blade, like the one Kelia possessed, he would.

It had been easy to fuck Tatianna; she offered herself so willing, he would have been a fool to say no. Slowly, she started playing with his feelings so he thought himself in love, when really, the entire time she had been using her powers to manipulate his senses.

Now that he thought of it, he realized he would probably have been a victim of her desire to remain youthful and alive. Before him, she drained humans dry and feasted on their carcasses. Never had she attempted to turn one and keep him for herself.

Drew was the first, and that legacy was not something he was proud of.

Perhaps it was a blessing rather than a curse, though. If Drew were not a Sea Shadow, he would never have met Kelia. His life would remain an experience of time rather than the joy of being with someone he truly cared about.

He did not want anyone to know of this, especially not Kelia. There was no need. Not when he would always be there to protect her.

When he woke from the dream, his eyes went to his window. The sun was making its way up, tempering the storm, at least momentarily. Beyond that, there didn’t seem to be any sound coming from the deck. He was not surprised. His crew had a long night of debauchery, but now it was time to leave this place. And he hoped he would never be in a position where he would have to return.

He dressed quickly, stepped outside, and inhaled the lingering scent of rain. The way the sun started to bleed against the horizon like a painting, he was certain today would be a beautiful day. It would be one of those times when being confined to a ship was not as bad as it could be. Where Kelia could not argue with him because she would have nowhere else to go, no war to fight, nothing he would need to protect her from for her to argue with him about.

One last few days of peace.

As he predicted, no one was out on deck. He could bask in the stillness for himself, enjoying the calm before the impending storm. Sangre was three days west, and that was only if the winds were favorable. If they were not, or if they got caught up in a storm, it could take five days, perhaps even seven. Anything could happen in those seven days, especially out at sea with land not being an option. He needed to be vigilant. He needed to ensure Kelia was never alone, never had the chance to get swept up by the Sirens and their alluring songs.

He approached the anchor. Under normal circumstances, it was his crew who was responsible to pull it up and ready the ship for departure. However, after a quick headcount, something pushed Drew to do it himself.

A kick in his step. It was as though he was excited about finally, finally ending his curse and killing the evil that still threatened his happiness.

"Wait.”

Drew stopped what he was doing and turned to the voice. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Emma, already dressed, her hair pulled from her face.

What did she want now? Hadn’t he endured enough of her lecturing last night?

"Wendy never came back last night,” Emma said quietly.

Drew’s eyebrows pressed together, and he shifted his weight. As the sun began to rise, it cast light on the Wraith's deck. The damp wood was drying underneath the warm rays.

"What?" he asked. Wendy did not come home last night? That didn’t make sense. "Perhaps she and Christopher lost track of time."

"If that were true, then Christopher is little more than ash right now," Emma replied, glancing toward the sun.

"I don't understand." Drew swallowed and tightened his grip on the rope.

"Well, she must be here somewhere. Look for her! Did you check to see if Christopher is here?”

"I have not," Emma said. "But I would sense if Wendy were here, and I’m telling you, she’s not. You can check if Christopher is here, if you like, before you decide we're ready to leave, but I don’t think you will find him, either.”

Drew clenched his teeth, not appreciating the smart way in which she relayed the news. He gave her a long glare, but she held his stare until he released the ropes and all but stomped down the stairs and down the narrow hallway. He passed the galley and the brig until he reached a pair of double-doors. Without any sort of prelude, he pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

"Christopher Beckett?" he called out.

Some of the Shadows who had the unfortunate position of sleeping next to the door groaned and grumbled while others farther back were unmoved.

"I say, Christopher?" Drew shouted, stepping farther into the dark, musty room.

There were no windows in this room filled with cots and hammocks. Some Shadows preferred the firmness of the cot while others preferred the gentle sway the hammocks offered them.

"Does anyone know where I can find Christopher? Do not make me go through each one of you. I have not had the best evening, and I would not want to misplace my frustration on you lot."

"You smell like you've had a satisfying evening just fine, Capt'n," one of the Shadows, Bruce, said with a tired snicker.

Without warning, Drew stepped through a couple of cots, lifted Bruce by the lapels of his tunic, and tossed him so hard into the wooden wall that he nearly went straight through it. The crash filled the cabin. The remaining Shadows sat straight up.

"Any other comments?" Drew asked.

Silence.

"No? Then turn your attention back to Christopher. Where in the bloody hell is he?"

"I don't think he came back, sir," said another Shadow from farther into the room. "There's an inn on the water, right at the curve of the island, that specializes in Shadow-human relations. If you follow the docks, there's a few small boats on the water that serve as rooms. Methinks he and your sister were spending the night there."

Drew nodded, making sure to keep any sign of relief from his men. They did not need to see him in a position of such vulnerability.

"Of course," he said. "As you were."

As he walked away, he cursed under his breath. Damn it, Christopher. He wanted to leave now, and he could not do that without Christopher.

This could put their entire mission at risk.