Ship of the Dead: The Templar Series
Page 4
“More like meneur,” Soeh teased.
Madeline tilted her head. “You’re their master.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not anyone’s master. I’ll never be anyone’s master,” he snarled. “It means I’m their leader, that they choose to follow me.”
“Sounds like a master to me, but if you don’t like that word, how about boss?”
Soeh snorted. “Baas. It sounds like the noise an animal would make – baaaas.”
“How about we continue to use Lidè. Or my given name, Adeyemi.”
The vampire frowned. “Adddy-emmy?”
Soeh laughed. He cringed. “Call me something else, then. Something that doesn’t sound like your mouth is full of wet bread. Something that doesn’t mean ‘master’.”
She tilted her head, a faint smile curling up one side of her lips. “Darius. After the Persian king. I’ll call you Darius.”
Soeh was nearly crying with laughter as she stepped forward to untie the woman. “So he’s Dario the Boss, and I’m Zoe. It’s a pleasure to be working with you, Madeline-the-vampire.”
Chapter 4
Madeline walked the streets of the town, her three followers staying far enough behind and in the shadows that the other humans couldn’t detect them, yet close enough that she felt their presence as keenly as if they’d been breathing down her back.
A quick sweep of the area had told her which dwelling belonged to the soucouyant, but the woman hadn’t been there. Now it was her job to find the creature, and do it before the sun edged toward dawn. This needed to be done tonight so she could rest with her family and let them know that they had potential allies – allies who although small in number clearly got things done on this island. Albin might want to woo the plantation owners, but Madeline got the impression they’d be better off long-term in partnership with these maroons in the mountains. As an immortal, long-term was the only way to think of the future. It was an abrupt change from her life two years ago when all she’d worried about was what color thread to use on her embroidery, whether to don the blue or green day dress, or if that warty Monsieur Moreau was really going to request her hand in marriage.
It hadn’t been a bad life. She’d always had food to eat, never feared for her life. Monsieur Moreau was a kind man who would have provided for her. She never would have imagined a handsome stranger would sweep her off her feet and convince her to leave it all behind for a life of drinking blood, lurking in the shadows, having what amounted to sexual encounters with any man or woman who’d consent to feed her. Thank the Lord her father couldn’t see what she’d become.
At least she was alive. And knowing what she knew now, she was positive that Jean-Marc would have killed her if she hadn’t agreed to come with him and join the Balaj. For all his sweet words, the man cared for no one but himself. If Leonora hadn’t taken a liking to her, she was certain her days would have been numbered in the weeks – sex-filled, passionate weeks, but still weeks.
A faint familiar scent tickled at the edge of her nose and Madeline turned, staring down the road that led out of town and toward the sugarcane fields of a neighboring plantation. That way. Although the woman wasn’t on the road from what she could see, and finding her among the tall cane would be problematic.
A quarter mile down the wide road, Madeline found herself looking into the cane. The woman was in there, and from the odors carrying in the air, she also had a victim. Blood. The scent had Madeline shaking a bit. She knew nothing of soucouyant, but the woman had been strong – she assumed as strong as she was and likely just as fast. And the soucouyant was in her element where Madeline hadn’t ever been in a cane field – in any sort of field – in her life.
One more unusual experience she could add to her life as a vampire. Inhaling deep to lock onto the scent, Madeline strode into the cane and hoped she was moving slow enough for the humans to follow her.
The sugarcane towered over her, completely blocking out any view of the sky with its thick leafy canopy. The field laborers had trimmed the lower leaves from the stalks, leaving a path between each row. It was narrow, and her dress snagged on the rough edges of the plants, but Madeline moved forward, determined to catch this creature and solidify an alliance with her new…friends? Hopefully eventually. She’d missed humans, missed having connections with those outside of her Balaj.
The soucouyant was ahead, one row over, hunched over a figure on the ground. Flames licked around her body in its tattered clothes, but didn’t seem to burn her. The man on the ground whimpered, one of his feet twitching and the soucouyant lifted her head. Even in the dark of the cane field, Madeline could see her blood-covered fangs.
“You dare to disturb my feeding, you little French whore? You and your family need to leave now. It won’t take long until they hunt you down and stake you in your sleep. Already the lidè of the maroons knows.”
Yes, he did. But the boss wasn’t hunting her, he was hunting this creature on the ground.
“There are plenty of people on the island. We are only eight, and you are only one. There is no reason we can’t all live here peacefully.”
The woman laughed, then abruptly her mirth ended and she jerked her head to look around the field. “You’ve brought friends. Are they your peace offering, or do you expect three humans to stop me?”
“Now.”
Boukman, Zoe, and the lide sprang from the cane, all throwing handfuls of salt and pepper flakes at the soucouyant. She screamed, cowering on the ground and covering her head. Madeline fought her way through the cane to put a few rows distance between herself and the action, just in case the magic Boukman used harmed vampires as well as soucouyant.
“Whore, French whore,” the woman screamed. “May you and your family always know hunger, may every gain you make lead to a devastating setback. May your allies betray you and drive you from this island forever.”
The woman curled in upon herself, the flames consuming her until she was a ball of fire on the ground.
Boukman shouted something in a strange language and the other two repeated it until it became a chant. The ball of fire rolled around, desperately trying to escape the cane field but mysteriously held in place. Then Madeline saw the lidè take a pouch from his side and up-end it, dousing the soucouyant fireball with water.
A scream filled the air so loud that it bent the cane and knocked the humans to the ground. The fireball sizzled and smoked, then with pop noise, it was gone.
There was a black circle on the ground surrounded by bent cane. The three maroons got to their feet, Boukman and the lidè checking to make sure the soucouyant was truly dead while Zoe looked after the victim still twitching on the ground.
They’d had a deal, but it was nearing sunrise, and Madeline knew that it would be easier to trust these people to uphold their bargain if she had her family at her back, so she ran. And she didn’t stop running until she was in her home.
“Where have you been?” Leonora demanded, concern coloring the stern tone of her voice. “When you didn’t return yesterday, we were sure you’d met the sunlight.”
“I nearly did.” Madeline slumped in a chair, resisting the urge to go hug the older woman. “I met some humans. I helped them find and punish a murderer. They’ve expressed interest in a possible alliance.”
Leonora sat up straight. “One of the plantation owners? Albin was hoping we could get in with one of them. We could feed on their slaves, as starved as they might be, and help them establish dominance on the island.”
“No, not a plantation owner.” Madeline thought of the motley group of rebels, strong and determined, and very much not starving in their mountain hideaway. “Better. I’ve met a group of maroons. I’ve met a man they call the lidè, the boss. I think they, and especially him, will change everything for us. I think we’ve found our allies.”
About the Author
Debra lives in a little house in the woods of Maryland with her sons and two slobbery bloodhounds. On a good day, she jogs and horseback ri
des, hopefully managing to keep the horse between herself and the ground. Her only known super power is 'Identify Roadkill'.
For more information:
www.debradunbar.com
Debra Dunbar’s Author page
Also by Debra Dunbar
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