“Talk,” I said.
The female vampyre’s voice was a whisper of silk and venom. “It’s the blood. Draken blood. It sustains us, gives us power. The older it is, the stronger we become. When the Overlord fell, we lost our source of white magick. Drakens have some, don’t you? He promised a meal. But it was just the one. We want more now.”
Nerissa inhaled sharply. “You drank my son.”
The vampyre smiled wider. “He was delicious.”
Nerissa moved so fast, I barely registered what had happened until the female vampyre’s head slid sideways off her neck, and fell onto the deck with a wetplop. The other vampyres went berserk at seeing the blood, foaming at the mouths and rubbing their wrists and ankles raw.
“I promised her she’d live!” I said with indignation.
“I didn’t.” Nerissa glared at Benedict in challenge.
He sighed. “Taunting the lady with the sword isn’t a great way to keep promises.”
I frowned as Nerissa moved toward the others.
“Wait!” I called out. “They said ‘he promised them.’ Who is he? Surely not the Overlord.”
Nerissa paused in her movements as Benedict’s head whipped back around. He raised one finger to Nerissa who scowled, but didn’t dispute whatever silent arrangement they’d come up with.
Nerissa systematically went down the line and chopped every vampyre’s head off until the ship was silent, except for the wind blowing through the sails. Only one young male was left, shivering and crying messily for his life, the least feral among them. Nerissa stood at the bow, her dark hair whipping in the wind.
“Well? This is your chance. Tell us everything. Who promised you food?”
His young, red eyes gazed at us all with hate. If he’d been human, I’d have guessed him to only be nineteen. “You’ll just kill me anyway.”
Nerissa stepped forward but Benedict stopped her, a hand across her chest. “You want draken blood? I’ll give you a sip for every answer.”
My spine straightened in shock, a hiss escaping my mouth before I could help it. Kieran practically leaped into the air. Benedict pinned us all with a look.
“We need answers.”
The vampyre’s nose lifted, unable to help it as drool fell from his chin. He whined pitifully. “Draken blood?”
Nerissa rolled her eyes and pulled a flask from her hip, handing it to Benedict. The vampyre salivated as Benedict used a claw to open a vein in his wrist, bleeding heavily into the flask. Ronan held me back as I instinctively stepped forward, wanting to heal it.
“Let her come.”
Ronan let me go and I practically pounced on Benedict, my tongue lapping at his wrist to heal the wound.
He nuzzled into my hair and kissed it. “Thank you, love. This is for answers.”
I nodded and backed away.
“Here. One sip for one question. Fair?”
The vampyre couldn’t nod quickly enough, straining against his chains. The air smelled of brine and blood. The child inside me kicked once, a faint echo of unease.
“Who promised you food?” Benedict asked.
We held our breaths.
“Veskor,” he rasped.
“What is a Veskor?” Benedict demanded.
The vampyre shook his head wildly side to side. “You promised! YOU PROMISED!”
