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Thane grumbles something under his breath.

“What was that, brother?” Ramsay asks, motioning with his hand behind his ear. “You have something you wish to share with your captain and new crewmates?”

Thane manages to glare at all three of us with one, swooping glance. “We should have picked up more bloodletters in Valparaiso,” he says gruffly as we head down the stairs to the deck below. “We took on two more Vampyres; we should have picked up two more victims to make things even. Now, they’re going to be feeding from our resources, and you, apparently, have no plans to make any stops going through the strait.”

Ramsay gives his brother a tired look. “First of all, you know I don’t like that term, Vampyre. We didn’t give that to ourselves—the humans did. We’re the Brethren of the Blood, and that is that, not some name handed out by the hand-wringing Christians in Eastern Europe. No offense, Father Aragon.”

I raise my palm. “No offense taken. It’s just Aragon now, not father.”

I have told Ramsay this quite a few times since, but he either forgets or he likes to choose your name for you. I’m not sure what it is, but I know I have to pick my battles on this ship, or they will be picked for me.

“Of course,” Ramsay says as we go down another set of stairs, past the deck where Abe and I have been sharing a small cabin with bunk beds. “But back to you, Thane, and your grumbles. We couldn’t risk getting any more bloodletters while picking up these two. It would have been too dangerous, would have drawn attention to ourselves. We were lucky enough that our ship traveled past unscathed.”

“Because you weren’t flying your Jolly Roger,” Abe says. “That’s the problem with you pirates: you always have to be telling the world exactly what you are.”

Ramsay grins. “Don’t you think that’s the plan? Tell the world what it wants to see—pirates. Vicious marauders of the deep. Criminals of the high seas. Hide the truth—we’re the monsters in every fairy tale.”

“Poetic,” Thane mutters. “Still doesn’t make up for the fact that we have two extra mouths to feed.”

“I could throw you overboard if that would help even the score,” I say to Thane earnestly.

Ramsay bursts out laughing, and that gets me another dirty look from Thane.

“I would take you up on your offer, Aragon, but Thane is the best quartermaster we have.”

“The only one you have,” Thane points out.

“And he’s needed to keep me in line,” Ramsay goes on. Then, his expression darkens slightly. “Though lately, it seems we’ve switched roles.”

Thane’s golden eyes flash with something—regret or sorrow. More than that, I can feel the weight of history in them. I have no doubt this crew has seen and gone through their share of tragedy. None of us are immune.

I exchange a knowing glance with Abe, and we continue down the stairs until we’re at the very bottom of the ship. Here, she creaks and groans with the sloshing sound of the waves beating the wooden sides. We’ve been lucky that the weather has been agreeable so far. We’re offshore enough from Chile that we can’t see the land, the ship itself having found an easier and faster course as we barrel toward the bottom of the world.

To where I had salvation for one, brief moment.

Salvation that came with violet eyes.

Until everything went up in flames.

Suddenly, we stop before a heavy door, and the smell of human blood floods my senses, overpowering the scent of oil, brine, and salt that has permeated the ship for the last few days. I feel my fangs harden in my mouth, the hairs on my body standing on end, my pulse picking up speed.

Ramsay nods as he looks me over. “It’s surprising, isn’t it, that you haven’t smelled them by now? I think the Nightwind does a good job of keeping it contained. Otherwise, we’d be reminded that we have them down here for the taking, and no crew could function with that.”

“More of the ship’s magic,” I say, clearing the thirst from my throat.

He nods. “She provides when she needs to.”

“So, you have humans in there?” Abe gestures to the door. Even the pupils in his eyes have gone red with hunger. “Ones you’ve kidnapped?”

“We call them bloodletters,” Thane explains. “And yes, they’ve been kidnapped.”

“They were given a choice,” Ramsay says to him testily.

Thane stares at him for a moment and then shakes his head. “A choice. Yes, of course.” He looks to us, his expression somehow even more tired than usual. “Back in the day, we would attack other ships or raid ports, and humans were the main cargo we were after—not just jewels and money and weapons, but the humans themselves. We kept them in the hold as prisoners and fed from them until they all died…a slow, gruesome death. But ever since Maren joined the crew, she wanted to change our tactics to one that’s more humane and merciful.”

“We give the humans a choice,” Ramsay says, eyeing his brother with a hard, warning look, as if he doesn’t want Maren mentioned again. “They become our sustenance or die. If you choose the former, you’ll live and eventually be taken back to shore, albeit drained of a lot of your blood.”

“And if you don’t?” Abe asks.