The Rhiannon Chronicles

by Maggie Shayne

  Roxanne made a “psssh” sound. “Olive would never cut flesh. Would you, girl?” And she stroked the bird’s head.

  Killian managed to maneuver the modern ship as close to the ancient one as anyone could have. There was still a thirty foot gap between The Anemone and the broken-down wreck. She shouldn’t be floating. Only my energy was keeping her above the waves. And somehow, those of us with the strength to do so were going to have to toss or carry everyone else across that chasm of ocean. And fast.

  I turned to look for my cat. Pandora was nearby. She never wandered far from the children. She was pacing, her long tail twitching now and then. Clearly, she sensed the danger. “Roland, Killian, Charlie, jump across,” I said. “Larissa and I will throw everyone else to you.”

  “I can help,” Christian said. He wasn’t a vampire. He was another government science experiment. One of The Chosen, he’d been given a drug called BDX to give him superhuman strength. But he was never told it would dramatically shorten his life expectancy. Charlotte had been the same, but she was a vampire now, and out of danger. Christian was going to have to become one of us soon, or his heart would explode from his chest. Stress, battle, even fear, could initiate the end for him. He knew this, but he kept saying he wasn’t ready. However, he’d also been treated with a chemical that made imbibing his blood toxic to vampires.

  We had expected to have more time to solve this challenge. But none of the ship’s records had provided an answer.

  “We can make that jump, too,” Nikki said, tugging my sleeve and looking up at me. “We’re as strong as vampires.”

  “No, you’re not, darling. You’re–”

  I stopped when Roland touched my cheek, a whisper of his elegant fingertip, lovingly brushing over my skin. “We don’t know how strong they are at all, do we?” he asked.

  I looked at him with wide eyes. “No, but–”

  “Perhaps we should let them try,” Roland said.

  Horrified at the thought, I wrapped Nikki in my arms and shouted, “Pandora, come!” Then I ran and jumped. The night wind whipped my hair, razed my ears, and made my eyes water as we rocketed. I aimed for a solid looking section of the decrepit ship’s deck and landed, light and easy. Pandora landed right beside me a fraction of a second later. I set Nikki down, looked back, and saw Killian and Charlotte run and jump across, hand in hand. Killian landed in a springy crouch, but Charlotte came down hard on the deck beside me, boards cracking beneath her.

  Fledglings.

  She sent me a sheepish shrug. “Hey, I’m not even two weeks Undead yet, Rhiannon. Cut me some slack, will you?” She bounced upright and went to the rail, waved, and one of the children, the seven-year-old boy I’d named Ramses, gave a running leap. He came flying at Charlotte. Not to her, but at her, like a missile. He landed so close that she ducked, then he threw his dark head back and shouted, “We are as strong as you, vampire. And we’ll get stronger!”

  Then the rest of the children came leaping across the chasm. It seemed as if the ghost ship was under fire and they were the cannonballs. They soared out of the night and onto the ship, all four of the eleven-year-olds, and the one remaining seven-year-old, Gareth, who crossed his arms and sent a disparaging look Nikki’s way.

  Nikki tugged her little hand from mine and when she looked up at me, her dark eyes were angry. “I could have jumped, too. I’m as strong as you.”

  Perhaps she was, I thought. Perhaps she was. “Next time I won’t hold you back,” I told her. But I wasn’t altogether sure it was a promise I could keep. When Roland had suggested I let her jump, the image of her missing her mark and plunging into the sea had been vivid and cold in my mind’s eye. I’d panicked.

  The thought of losing her....

  I crouched to put myself at eye level with her, while Charlotte shouted, “Throw the mortals across and let’s get out of here!”

  I put my hands on Nikki’s shoulders and met her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you jump, Nikki.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, thrust her lower lip out. “What means, ‘sorry’?”

  “Sorry means–I wish I hadn’t done that.”

  “Rhiannon we have to move,” Roland said.

  “Yes, yes, I know, love.” I straightened, saw Larissa wrap her arms around Lucas, the former traitor to his own kind, and jump across. Roland hugged Roxanne to him and did likewise, and finally Christian gave a mighty leap, carrying Trish in his beefy arms. They all landed safely, Christian hitting so hard our boat rocked to one side. And I frowned as I saw The Anemone heading away from us, out to sea.

  I shot a questioning look at Killian.

  “I set her course before I jumped,” he said. “She should lead them away from us, give us a head start. But we have to hurry. They’ve deployed jets.”

  “Rhiannon, The Glamourie,” Roland urged.

  “Yes, of course.” Raising my arms, I cast the concealment spell I’d been taught as a child, The Glamourie, over the ghost ship on which we now sailed, and glimpsed the subtle shimmer of the space around us that told me the illusion was in place. While I, and everyone onboard could still see the ship on which we rode, anyone not aboard would see only ocean.

  Quickly then, I went to the very front of the ghost ship and leaned out over the prow, lifting my hands toward the bit of coastline I could see in the distance and willing the old wreck to move in that direction.

  And she did. Slowly at first, and then faster as the wind blew my hair back away from my face. I felt the kiss of brine on my skin, and the smell of land, of trees and earth, grew stronger. Then suddenly, my concentration was broken by a whirring, whistling sound overhead.

  Every one of us looked up in fear as missiles appeared out of the empty sky, their tails flaming against the dark. They angled sharply downward, aiming themselves at the ship we’d been aboard only minutes earlier. We could still see her heading away from us in the distance.

  The missiles hit their mark and The Anemone exploded in a series of deafening booms and blinding blue-white flashes. The impacts rocked our own vessel, and the reverberations thudded in my chest.

  “Roland—” I reached out for him, my gaze fixed to the distant red-orange flames and black roiling smoke that had been The Anemone.

  He clasped my hand immediately. “I know.”

  “They never intended to arrest us. They intended—and still intend—to wipe us out.”

  “I know, love.”

  “And the children—they knew the children were aboard!” I stared into his eyes, horrified, and he stared back into mine.

  Nikki squeezed between us. “Rhiannon, you have to do that thing again! My feet are getting wet.”

  I looked down at her, realizing, as was everyone else aboard, that our ghost ship was rapidly sinking. I had let go of the spell I’d cast.

  “It’s okay,” Nikki said. “I can do it.” She leaned into the cradle of the prow, looked out over the water, closed her little eyes and lifted her hands just as I had done to raise the vessel in the first place.

  “It’s sweet, the way she mimics you, love,” Roland said, “But truly, you need to—”

  “It’s rising,” I whispered. I felt it. I couldn’t look away from my little girl to watch the seawater withdrawing from around our feet, but I knew the others were. I heard them whispering, sensed their awe.

  Quickly, I recast The Glamourie to conceal our wreck from prying eyes. And then I moved to stand right beside Nikki. Softly, so as not to break her concentration, I said, “Very good. Now guide her toward shore. See it? It’s closer than ever.”

  Her little eyes opened, mere slits, and she nodded once, then squeezed them shut again. She made fists of her hands, jabbed her forefingers straight forward. And the ghost ship resumed its journey toward shore.

  “How are you doing it, Nikki?” I asked, keeping my voice low and level, so I wouldn’t break her concentration.

  “I saw you do it.”

  “But there’s more to it than just how you st
and or where you point. How did you know about the...the other parts? The parts that come from inside?”

  “I listened to you do it. Not with my ears. You know.” Then she grinned. “Watch this.” She swung her arms right, and the ship tilted and turned, veering sharply that way. Everyone stumbled, grabbing anything to keep from falling. Then she looped her arms back again, and the hulk obeyed.

  Clinging to a broken mast and looking ill, Roxanne shouted, “Unless you want us all barfing over the side, ladies, knock it off already!”

  I smiled, I couldn’t help it. Nikki looked up at me. “What means barfing?”

  I opened my mouth, poked a finger inside, made a gagging sound, and she smiled. One of the first expressions of emotion I’d seen cross her face. The ship shuddered, though, so I quickly pulled her back into control, adding a burst of speed and pointing us toward what appeared to be a deserted stretch of forested shoreline. I had let my little protégé practice her newfound skills long enough. Our lives were at stake.

  When I felt the hull dragging over sand, I knew we would have to swim for it, but then Roland touched my shoulder, and when I looked, he nodded toward the stern. There was a dinghy, still attached after so much time. It was no more seaworthy than the ship, but certainly no less. We could make the final part of our journey that way.

  Killian and Christian saw where we were looking and hurried back there to start freeing the smaller vessel from its age-frayed bonds, and Charlotte came to us, held out a hand. “Come on, Nikki. You can sit with me.”

  Nikki went, not seeking my permission first. She was a free spirit, despite the fact that her entire life had been spent in captivity. And she was far more, I realized. Far more. Who knew how much?

  As she ran off with Charlotte, I said to Roland. “Did you hear? She said she knew how to do the spell because she observed me doing it. Sensed me doing it.”

  He nodded. “So in addition to incredible strength, agility, and speed, they have powerful psychic skills.”

  “I wonder if she can read my thoughts? I wonder if she could, even if I were blocking them?”

  “We’ll try it and find out.” He caressed my cheek and I closed my eyes at his touch, which never failed to elicit shivers of pleasure in me. And never would. “When we’ve found our haven, we’ll have time to help her explore her abilities and master them.”

  “She could’ve made that jump from The Anemone,” I said softly. “You were right, Roland, I should not have stopped her.”

  He took my arm as we quickly walked the length of the ship to where the others were gathered around the smaller boat. “You’ve been her mother for all of ten days, my love. There’s bound to be a...what do they call it? A learning curve?”

  “Mother.” I stared at Nikki, who was climbing into the rickety lifeboat with Pandora right behind her. The cat looked dubious about the idea. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that word.”

  “Big sister?” Roland teased. “Youthful aunt?”

  I smiled. “Guardian, perhaps.”

  “Guardian my ass,” Charlotte called with a grin. “She’s your Mini-Me. Now let’s go, huh? Before those idiots figure out the ship they just blew up was empty.”

  Roland met my eyes, his message for me alone. They will figure it out. And it will not take very long. The moment they do, they’ll be after us again. We cannot let our guard down, Rhiannon. Not for a second.

  I nodded, knowing he was right.

  We made our way to shore in the dinghy, sixteen of us crammed into a lifeboat designed to hold twelve, and as we did, I released my hold over the ghost ship. I pushed her out into deeper waters with my will, and then watched as she sank slowly beneath the waves, returning again to her saltwater grave.

  When she was gone, leaving but a telltale hissing and frothing above her, the only things that remained on the horizon were the smoke and flames of The Anemone, and the silhouettes of several vessels now speeding toward her. Coast Guard or military, I couldn’t be sure. DPI had the entire force of the US government at its disposal these days.

  As if further proof of that, we were startled by the deafening sound of helicopters, like massive, prehistoric insects, pounding over our heads to join in the grim search for our remains.

  And for the remains of the seven innocent children.

  Our enemies were ruthless, and they were powerful. For the first time I wondered if we truly had a chance to survive now that the world knew of our existence and had deemed us monsters in need of annihilation.

  Chapter Two

  We took shelter three hours before dawn in an abandoned candle factory not far from the sea. Our best guess was that we were in the state of Washington, but we did not yet know where. Our refuge was small for a factory—two levels of brown brick in a perfect square, surrounded by a time-dulled chain-link fence that leaned drunkenly one way and another. Weeds and a broken up patch of pavement stood between the fence and the building. We only knew it was a candle factory because of the tall smokestack that still bore the fading image of a white taper candle with an orange and red flame. Inside, the place was barren aside from broken glass, shredded insulation, and rodent droppings. It was not ideal, but we needed shelter before dawn, and so we had little choice but to take the first viable option, though we had another three hours of darkness remaining. Being caught out in the open as the sun rose would prove fatal, even to vampires as old as Roland and I, to say nothing of the younger ones among us; Killian, Charlie, Larissa.

  “The boat was nicer than this,” Nikki said, looking around the dim, dirty place and wrinkling her nose at the scents of mildew and mice.

  “At least we’re not in cages,” said Gareth, one of the two boys I considered her brothers. He had a soft heart, I thought. Ramses and Nikki were both hard edged and bore streaks of the cruelty they had experienced. Gareth was tender, more easily wounded, I thought, though I had only my instincts and his expressive brown eyes to judge by.

  Roxanne had excused herself shortly after we’d arrived, saying she was going out for supplies, and she’d taken Lucas and Larissa with her. That had been two hours ago, and I was starting to worry. I trusted Roxanne above any mortal I had ever known. She was more than just the oldest living Chosen. She was a friend. But as for Lucas, I didn’t trust that one as far as I could throw him. He, too, was one of The Chosen. But he’d willingly worked for those DPI forces that were neither military nor law enforcement, but something else. Something dark.

  The vampires aboard ship had taken to calling them Crows, because they dressed all in black. I rather thought the moniker was an insult to corvids.

  We had left everything behind. We had no clothing, no telephones, no sustenance, neither for us nor for the children. We were desperate. And a desperate vampire is a dangerous thing. The hungry looks in the eyes of Killian and Charlotte were not lost on me.

  “We should find some humans to feed on,” I said to Roland. I, too, was hungry to the point of distraction. We’d expended a lot of energy making our escape. We needed to replenish.

  “Let’s wait and see what our intrepid explorers come up with first, all right?” Roland suggested. “I’ve seen no fewer than three raggedy looking males scuffling past our hideout in the past two hours,” I told him. “Easy prey.”

  “I’ve seen them too. Drunk, addicted, homeless, mentally ill, or some combination of those things, more than likely.”

  “Does it matter?” I asked. “They could still spare a little blood without suffering harm. And the buzz of intoxication it might carry would frankly be a welcome break.”

  He looked surprised by my comment, but before he could respond, the sound of a motor distracted us both. We ran to the nearest broken window, keeping to one side, so as not to reveal ourselves. It wasn’t one motor, but two. Two nearly identical vans stopped just beyond the chain-link fence that surrounded this place. Lucas emerged from one of them, and after looking around, he opened the gate. It wasn’t easy. The thing was lopsided and looked as if it hadn
’t been moved in years, but he managed it, despite being a mere mortal.

  “Motor cars,” Roland said, using the same tone one might use to say, “Spoiled fish.” He’d done well at sea, which had surprised me. The man had a powerful aversion to modern modes of transportation. Always had.

  Within moments, Roxanne was coming inside, Larissa and Lucas right behind her, their arms laden with sacks from a fast food chain. Roxanne returned my questioning look with a wink, and said, “Gather ‘round if you’re hungry. We brought back dinner.”

  The children mobbed her. Our four eleven-year-olds and three seven-year-olds didn't have a clue about manners or sharing. Roxanne laughed while handing out paper-wrapped fast-food sandwiches, boxes of fries, and bottles of water. She couldn't blame them for their lack of etiquette. They'd been raised like animals. It wasn't their fault.

  Then Lucas shrugged off a backpack and held it out in my direction. Frowning, I moved nearer, taking it. “What’s this?” But already the scent was reaching me. Blood. The luscious, precious stuff of life. My mouth watered.

  “We borrowed a phone,” Lucas said. “Used it to track down the nearest blood bank. Security’s never great at those places.”

  “No doubt that will change soon, like everything else.” I unzipped the backpack and took out a bag containing a full pint. Without hesitation I pierced the plastic with my fangs and drank. It wasn’t warm, and it wasn’t pulsing into my mouth with the force of a still-beating heart. But it bore the essence I needed to survive, to replenish, to regain my strength. Charlotte, Killian and Roland gathered round to do the same. I could tell that Larissa had already fed by the nearly mortal pinkness to her flesh.

  The children wolfed their food, though I paid little mind to any of them. As I drank, the bloodlust rose up in me, causing my eyes to glow red, and my body to heat with a need for other sorts of fulfillment. In our kind, sexual desire and bloodlust are intertwined, each stoking the other until they become difficult to tell apart.

  I lowered the bag, licking my lips, my eyes seeking out my mate.