The minute Kelia was back on the Wraith, Drew led her belowdeck and down the narrow hallway where the three witches—Emma, Wendy, and Daniella—were hiding together in the same room. Hiding probably wasn’t the appropriate word, considering they could defend themselves nearly as well as Drew Knight. However, he’d not wanted to risk any of them—Kelia included, though Kelia had refused to hide with the other women.

Drew always pretended he didn’t care about anyone, but he wouldn’t have told those women to hide if that were true. Emma was his closest friend, Wendy was his sister, and Daniella was a ward between the two. It made sense he wanted to keep them safe.

Kelia on the other hand... Well, she knew Drew wanted to keep her safe as well, but wasn’t sure what she was to him. He’d once told her they weren’t friends, but certainly they were at least that much? But whenever she saw that gleam in his deep brown eyes, she sensed she meant more to him than that. There was something between them. Some...possibility.

Without saying a word, Drew paused in front of the Emma’s room, which sat adjacent to the galley and directly across from the sleeping quarters of his fifteen-person crew.

Person was the wrong word. Sea Shadows. Sometimes they were referred to as vampires, but seeing as how they were cursed to stay on the sea until moonlight, Sea Shadow had become the better suited term. It wasn’t hard to forget what they really were, though—beasts kept alive thanks to the blood they fed on. Blood they took either by some sort of arrangement or by force.

Kelia had been raised to believe that’s all there was to these creatures, but she’d learned the hard way how misled she’d been.

Interestingly enough, there were no female Shadows aboard the Wraith. Pirates always believed women were bad luck, but that did not explain Emma's presence on board. Perhaps Drew liked to keep her close after nearly losing her. Or perhaps it was just female Sea Shadows that were bad luck.

The longer Kelia spent with the crew and the more she became familiar with Sea Shadows, the more it confirmed that everything the Society had taught her was complete drivel. Even her own father, the only family Kelia ever knew, had looked her in the eye and lied about them.

Perhaps at the time, he had not known, but Kelia couldn’t be sure. Not after what she’d learned about him. He’d tried to redeem himself, and he’d paid that price with his life, but Kelia couldn’t reconcile that with what he had created.

She shivered as she recalled the breeding program intended to mate Sea Shadows with witches...and then with humans as well. She’d been nauseating close to being one of the victims.

So far, she’d managed to keep her stomach and its contents from spilling on the ship, but a sudden gurgle from deep inside of her nearly wrecked that. She gripped the wall and hunched over as Drew knocked on the door three times-.

“Are you all right, Slayer?” Drew asked her, his voice low. There was nothing masking his concern for her. He placed a gentle hand on the small of her back.

She forced a smile and nodded.

“Why do you still call me that?” she managed to get out.

Before he could respond, a lever on the door slid open, and a familiar set of suspicious brown eyes peered through.

“You’re still alive?” Daniella asked with untampered disdain. Daniella didn’t really hate Kelia anymore, but it seemed their old conversational ways were already set in stone.

“Yes, Daniella,” Kelia said, forcing herself to straighten. Drew did not drop his hand. “We’re still alive. Can we come in?”

“If you must.”

The lever slammed shut, and various locks clicked and clanked and thudded before the door cracked open. The room had four cots on each corner of the room and a large window that looked out on the ocean. It was easy to discern who slept where: Wendy’s corner was a mess, bedspread falling off the cot, pillow on the floor; Daniella did not sleep with a bedspread at all; Emma was neat and organized, everything in its proper place; and Kelia was neat as well on the days she remembered to make her cot.

Each woman also had a small trunk filled with clothing nailed to the floor at the foot of their cots. They took turns washing everyone’s clothing as a whole. It was Kelia’s week next week, something she was dreading. She would rather wash the dishes as she had done as a Sightless with the Society than have to wash clothes. A lot of the time, she tried to trade with Daniella. Owing the witch a favor was a gamble but it got her out of doing the washing.

“Did you rid us of more Shadows?” Daniella asked as they stepped into the room. The question was obviously for Drew, though Daniella was looking at Kelia. Her eyes lingered on her person, as though she was looking for any injury.

“Don’t I always?” Drew asked with a grin, though Kelia could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

“Is your stomach still troubling you?” Emma asked, stepping forward from the window. Her long, black hair was braided loosely behind her, her matching eyes on Kelia with a sharpness one would not expect from her.

“She wretched twice that I know of,” Drew said.

“Maybe we should dock for a while,” Wendy suggested, sitting on her own bed. Her dark hair fell in her face in messy waves. “It sounds like her stomach is getting worse, despite Emma’s concoction.”

“That isn’t necessary,” Kelia said quickly. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it while Drew stood closer to his sister. Emma went over to Kelia and Daniella took a seat on the edge of her cot.

The room was bigger than most on a pirate ship. Originally, it had been one of the rooms that Drew had used to store grain and other non-perishables. Once he was turned, however, there was no need to carry food with him on his ship unless it was livestock he and his crew could feed on during especially long trips where land was not an option for days on end. Then, Starry, the chef, would skin the carcass and cook the meat. Clinton would turn the hide into something useful—a jacket, or a blanket.

Somehow, having a sleeping quarters separate from the Shadows made Kelia feel safer. Even though she could now recognize that the doctrine she had grown up with had been false, she still couldn’t force herself to feel comfortable around a group of them, let alone enough to sleep at night. It was nothing against the crew—Kelia found them able-bodied and courteous, if a little quiet. It was just that emotional reactions were harder to change than logical ones.

“Would you like more?” Emma asked. She went over to her cot where her large jacket sat, folded neatly.

“Yes,” Kelia answered, at the same time Drew said, “Absolutely not.”

Emma froze, looking between them.

Drew crossed is arms over his chest. “She’s already had some today, and you said herself there’s dangers with taking it too often. If it’s wearing off this quickly, then it’s because you’ve given her too much.”

Kelia placed her hand on Drew’s folded arm.

“It’s not her fault,” Kelia said firmly. “She’s only given me what I’ve asked for.”

Drew dropped his arm, pulling away. “Then you’ve asked for too much.”

Kelia raised her eyebrows at him. “And now I’m asking her for more, Drew. Because I don’t feel well. And we might not have a permanent solution, but what would you have me do until then? Suffer? Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough?”

A dark cloud seemed to cross his face then, and his entire demeanor softened, if only for a moment.

“Just give her the concoction, Emma,” he mumbled.

Emma unfolded the coat and pulled something from a pocket before reaching out her arm. Kelia strode the distance of the room and took the offered vial with a small but appreciative murmur of thanks.

Kelia did not hesitate and downed the entire vile in one take. She ignored the look of concern Drew was giving her, and instead, focused her attention on Wendy.

“I did not see your fiancé on board the Crimson Tide,” Kelia said. Her voice was raspy the way it usually was after drinking Emma’s concoction.

“He was there,” Wendy assured her. She curled her fingers in front of her, inspecting her fingernails. “I say, I reek. I am in desperate need of a bath.”

“I believe Christopher went to assist with removing the mast,” Emma said as she folded her jacket back up and placed it in her storage chest. “We felt it crash, like the earth shook.”

“Luckily, there is not too much damage,” Drew murmured from where he stood by the door. “And what damage there is, you witches can wave a hand and have everything brand new.” He grinned.

Wendy rolled her eyes and dropped her hand so it hit her thigh. “Can we now?” she asked, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “I swear, brother, you need us much more than we need you. My sympathies go out to poor Kelia, who must endure you on a more frequent basis.” She turned her attention to Kelia. “How do you do it?”

“Wine,” Kelia said with a small smile. “Lots of it.”

Daniella chuckled, and Wendy gave her an approving smile.

The truth of the matter was, Drew Knight might be a thorn in her side, but she felt as if she might bleed out if it were to be removed. Now that he was there, she needed him to stay. There were plenty of times she had lost control of her temper and they had argued, but respect still made up the pull of their relationship.

Kelia was starting to feel the effects of Emma’s concoction already. Her stomach stopped churning, and she was able to stand straighter. But it felt entirely too hot in this small room. She wanted to step on deck of the ship, breathe in the fresh air now that she did not have to worry about being attacked by Shadows who wanted to feed from her and make Drew watch, who wanted to bring her to this Queen she kept hearing about.

“Did you retrieve it?” Emma asked. Her low, musical voice was distinctive, enough to be heard over the louder prattle between Daniella and Wendy.

Kelia’s eyes snapped to Emma, but the earth witch’s gaze was on Drew. Drew pushed off from the door and reached inside his tunic before pulling out a folded piece of parchment. Kelia recognized it instantly: the map from the Crimson Tide. The one from the painting.

Emma’s eyes sparkled, though her lips smoothed into only a small smile.

“Now that we are safely aboard our ship,” Kelia said, sliding down to the foot of her cot and looking between Drew and Emma with a narrowed expression on her face, “will you please explain why we raided that ship? It seemed you selected it intentionally, that you sought it out, rather than your usual raids that happen as a matter of opportunity. Was it just for this map?”

Drew waved a hand dismissively. “We’re freeing slaves.”

“Right,” Kelia said, not buying into the simplicity of his statement. “I understand we’re freeing feeders and any humans that Shadows have taken for carnal pleasure. And I understand we’re looting them of any riches or treasures they’ve acquired, which I can’t say I entirely agree with, but I get it—you’re a pirate, and that’s what pirates do.”

“Great, then we’re on the same—”

“What I don’t understand,” Kelia continued before Drew could evade her further, “is why a scrap of paper was so important.”

“A scrap of paper?” Drew looked affronted by her careless words. “A scrap of—Darling, do us all a favor and keep your mouth shut when you do not understand things, aye?”

“You did not just tell her that!” Wendy said, cutting herself off from her conversation with Daniella. “You tell her right now what that map is for, Drew. Right now!”

Drew glowered at his sister, but relented as he turned back to Kelia. “This ‘scrap of paper’ as you put it, is a map that leads to the Isle de Sangre.” His eyes were fixed on Kelia even as he crossed the room and handed Emma the parchment so she could study it herself. “The Isle de Sangre is an island solely for the Queen.”

Kelia stretched out her legs, feeling the familiar burn of the muscles and tendons in her body.

“The Queen,” Kelia mumbled. “You know, in my entire time on your ship, you have not spared me one sentence of your history with her. I have heard many other Shadows tell me how badly she wants me, but I can’t fathom why the Creator of so many Shadows would want me. I had never even heard of her, not even at the Society, until firming my alliance with you. Yet Shadows believe she is their God, a mother-figure, and I am some human who has angered her in some way. Except, I know not what I did, save for the fact that it has to do with you.”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Drew snapped. His entire body tensed, his eyes nearly black, and his fangs descended as they often did when he was hungry or angry. Right about now, he was probably both. “I wish I could tell you more, but I don’t know why those Shadows think—”

“Drew.” Emma’s voice was soft but purposeful. She set the map on the cot without even looking at it. Then her hands were in her hair, running her fingers through the dark tresses, completely destroying the messy braid in the process. She was never one to interrupt Drew in the entire time that Kelia had been here, so for her to do so now must have been a big deal. “Tell her. Tell her about your history. Spare her no detail—out of respect to her.”

Drew glared at Emma, a glance so dark and feral, Kelia flinched. He only ripped his gaze from Emma when he made his way back to the door.

“My past is my own,” he said. “I do not find it necessary to involve her.”

“She is already involved,” Emma pointed out. Each word was as crisp as the breeze. “You know that as well as I do. She should know it, too. Better to prepare her than to keep her ignorant.”

Kelia held her breath, waiting. She had put some of the puzzle together, but hearing it from Drew would make the foggy picture clear.

“Foolish witch. I am neither preparing her nor keeping her. That ‘ignorance’ is the only thing left to protected her.”

“Says you.” Emma stopped playing with her hair to point at him. “We are going to Sangre, are we not? You are involving all of us in your fight. The least you could do is explain why you have this fight in the first place.”

“Perhaps I will, in my own time,” he said. “But I do not have time for this right now.” He crossed his arms over his chest “Well? What’s your expert opinion, Emma? Is this the real map? Did you need to brush your hair before looking it over?”

“You know it’s real,” Emma said, as if unaffected by Drew’s biting sarcasm. “Why do you think Hector Sampson was hiding the map in the first place?”

“He wouldn’t have tried to sell it?” Daniella asked. Her voice sounded so small, which was uncommon for her.

Emma shook her head. “No Shadow in their right mind would even attempt to make a profit off of this. If the Queen found out, there would be Hell to pay, and the Queen always makes sure to cash in.”

“What does the Queen want with me?” Kelia asked. She stood up, her fingers curling into fists. “Does she want to feed on me or something? Does she think having me will somehow matter to you, get you to go back to her or something?” The last question was directed at Drew. “I might not know the specifics, but I’ve put a few things together, Drew. You owe me some answers.”

Meeting his gaze told her everything and nothing, and that frustrated her even further. His irises were so black; she had never seen them this color before. The way they darkened around her, soaked her in their sympathy, in their worry and emotions Kelia could plainly see but could not name, made her heart tumble in her chest.

“I want the Queen to know nothing about you,” he said. “And it seems one way to help with that is for you to know nothing about her.”

“That is too bad, brother.” Wendy cocked her head to the side, pausing her task of lacing up her boot. “The Queen already knows her, and she of the Queen. Word spreads amongst the Shadows like fire. You know the Queen will not stop until she has Kelia. That’s why you wanted that map.”

“And that’s why we must go to Sangre and burn it down,” Drew said. “That is what we do next. So why are we wasting time on this pointless conversation? It will mean nothing once we set everything on fire.”

Emma shook her head once, and her earrings clinked. “We can’t do that next. Your crew doesn’t have the strength. First, we must go to land so your crew can feed.”

At that moment, there was a booming knock on the door. Without waiting for the door to be answered, Christopher Beckett popped his sculpted head in.

“Heading, Captain?” he asked.

The room started to empty, leaving Kelia alone with Emma. There was a look on Emma's face that said she had much to discuss with Kelia, and there was no way around it.