Vampirates 3: Blood Captain
Page 18
“No!” Johnny’s eyes were wide. Grace wasn’t entirely sure if this was from shock or admiration.
“Yes,” Grace said. “After that, he was banished. But he didn’t go away quietly. He found others who felt the same way and they went on a rampage of violence. They killed a very famous pirate captain — the brother of the captain of the ship my brother’s on.”
“Your brother’s on a pirate ship?”
Grace nodded.
“A brother who’s into pirating and a sister who’s into . . . into what, exactly?”
“Learning about things,” she said. “You said it yourself. I like to know what makes people tick. Connor — that’s my brother — Connor and I were born in a small town. We never knew much about the world beyond the bay. It’s a long story how he came to be where he is and how I came to be here, but everything that’s happened has given me the chance to see things I never even dreamed of.”
Johnny smiled. “You can’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“You get me to tell you my whole life story, then you dismiss yours in a few lines.”
She shrugged. “I think yours is a whole lot more interesting.”
“The grass is always greener,” he said, grinning. “It sounds like you and your brother are having an extraordinary time. And you’re not even dead yet!”
“Maybe.” She shrugged again.
“Maybe,” he said, doing a pretty rotten impersonation of her. He swiftly returned to his own voice. “I like you, Grace,” he said. “I like you and I want to know all about you. I told you my story. Now I want to hear yours!”
“All right,” she conceded. “I’ll tell it to you sometime. But not tonight. You must finish your story. After all, you only got to the part where you died.” Her eyes were bright once more. “Tell me how you crossed!”
Johnny shook his head. “Honestly, Grace! I bet you were the kind of kid who loved creepy stories before bedtime.”
She nodded. “Of course!”
“Well, actually,” he said, “there isn’t too much to tell. At least, I don’t remember too much of it. I was, as you’ll recall, hanging by my broken neck from that tree branch. I must have been hanging there for two, maybe three days. Believe me, the view had lost its appeal by then. The snow kept falling, and what with the rigor mortis and the bitter cold, I was turning into a regular icicle. On the third day, this rider comes along the way. Only he wasn’t any regular rider. He wasn’t the usual kind of guy making his way through the badlands. I’d lost my senses by this time, of course, so what comes next, well it’s dependent on what he told me. And the way he tells it, he cut me down from the tree and carried me away on his horse. Thawed me out by the campfire, then gave me the kiss of life. Or the kiss of death, if you prefer to think of it that way. In other words, he was my sire.”
“Why did he pick you?” Grace asked. “Why you, and not the other two men who were hanging on that tree?”
Johnny nodded. “I asked him the same damn thing. And he told me two things. Number one, there was something about me that reminded him of himself. And number two, that it just seemed like I had a whole lot more living to do.” Johnny gave a laugh. “And he was right. And you know what, after that, things were a whole lot better. Me and Santos — that was his name. In life, he had been a vaquero, too. Me and Santos forgot about the trail drives. Like I said before, they kinda died along with me that winter. But rodeo, well rodeo was taking off in a big way. And Santos and me had a grand ol’ time moving from state to state, winning prizes, partying with all the pretty ladies . . .”
Grace shook her head. “You competed in rodeos as a vampire?”
“Heck yeah!” Johnny said. “You could tell that some of them broncos had a suspicion. Animals have a keener sense of life and death than humans do. But them cowboys! They were completely in the dark.”
Johnny grinned once more, then hung his head and fell silent for a time. Grace wondered if he was dwelling on the harsh facts of his life — and death. The silence weighed heavy between them. “Are you okay?” she asked, at last.
“Me? Oh sure, sure. I was just thinking about something about those crossing stories of yours,” Johnny said. “Tell me another one.” He paused. “Tell me Lorcan’s.” His dark eyes glistened in the moonlight.
Grace faltered. “I don’t . . . you see . . . Lorcan’s never told me his story.”
“What?” Johnny looked askance at her. “That doesn’t make sense. You two seem real close, yet you don’t know his story?”
Grace shook her head. “Of course, I’ve always wondered about it. All I know of his life is where he was born and where he died. The rest is a blank.”
Johnny shook his head in disbelief.
“The thing is,” Grace continued. “I think if I did know his story, I might be able to help him. Mosh Zu says there’s something in Lorcan’s mind that’s stopping him from healing. If I could find out what that was, well maybe I could help him deal with whatever it is and truly begin his recovery.”
Johnny smiled softly at her. “There you go. You’re a lady with a plan.”
“Yes,” said Grace, shrugging. “But it’s not as simple as that, is it? Lorcan’s never been one to open up about himself. And now, especially, he’s more guarded than ever. I wouldn’t want to ask him.”
Johnny nodded. “But you don’t need to ask.”
“What do you mean?” She turned to him, puzzled.
“You’re good at reading ribbons, aren’t you?”
She nodded, then watched as Johnny’s eyes fell to the book she had placed on the wall between them. Poking out between the jagged pages was Lorcan’s ribbon. Of course! She’d unwittingly employed it as a bookmark. Grace realized what Johnny was suggesting. Her heart began racing at the thought. At last, she might begin to crack the enigma of Lorcan Furey. Did she dare? Was it right? “No,” she said. “No, I can’t.”
Johnny chuckled. “You didn’t show any restraint in reading my ribbon. What’s the difference?”
“That was an accident,” said Grace. “I told you . . .”
Johnny pushed the book off the wall. As it tumbled to the ground, he reached forward and grabbed the ribbon. “Oops!” he said, cupping the ribbon in his callused hands. Grace looked at it, lying there like a snake. What secrets did it contain?
Now Johnny took the ribbon between his fingers and held it out to her. She shook her head. “I really don’t think I can.”
“The way I see it,” Johnny said, “you don’t have a choice. You want to help your friend and this is gonna tell you how.” With that, he placed the ribbon around her neck and knotted it gently in a bow. Then he jumped down from the wall. “I’m gonna leave you to your own devices now, Grace,” he said. “But be sure to come and find me when you’re done.”
She said nothing, feeling a shiver as the ribbon settled on her skin.
“Hey,” he said. “Don’t look so worried. I’m sure it’ll be just fine.” With that, he gave a little bow, then placed the Stetson back on his head and strode away across the courtyard.
28
THE PLEA
The deck of the Vampirate ship was crowded and faces were quick to turn, conversation quick to halt, as Connor, Bart, and Jez climbed onto the deck. Wordlessly, the vampires began moving toward them. Was it Connor’s imagination or were they like a pack of animals, closing in for the kill? All eyes stared at them intently, taking the measure of the new arrivals.
At the front of the pack were two men — one rotund, the other tall — and a young girl.
“Who are they?” asked the girl.
“New donors, perhaps?” said the shorter, rounder of the two men. He was staring at Bart, his head tilting to one side to take in his full height. “He’d make a very good donor, too.” Connor watched as the man’s mouth opened and his sharp teeth became visible.
His taller companion laughed. “You can’t just trade in your donor. It doesn’t work like that.” He glanced at Conn
or, his eyes flickering with fire. “All the same, it’s tempting, isn’t it? I’m so very hungry tonight.”
Connor felt like a piece of meat, thrown into a cage at the zoo. Were they in direct danger? Surely the captain would protect them.
“Who are they?” repeated the girl, stepping closer. She had a look of perpetual confusion about her. “Who are they?” Her little mouth fell open and now he could see her teeth extending like needles. Connor wasn’t sure how much more of this he could endure.
Suddenly a fresh voice was heard across the deck. “Let me through! Let me through!” There was movement in the crowd. Connor watched as a woman forced her way between them and stood beside the confused girl. The newcomer had an altogether livelier air about her. She had wide, staring eyes and a short dark bob of hair. Connor had met her once before. He smiled with huge relief.
“Darcy Flotsam,” he said. “That’s right, isn’t it? And I’m . . .”
She smiled back at him. “You’re Connor Tempest. I remember you. Besides, your eyes are the exact same color as your sister’s.”
He nodded. “Is she around?”
“She’s not here,” Darcy said. “She left the ship to go to a place called Sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary?”
“It’s a place where vampires are healed,” Darcy explained. “Grace went there with Lorcan Furey. You know of Lorcan?”
He nodded. He knew all about Lorcan. There was some bond between Lorcan Furey and Grace. He was the reason she’d found it impossible to keep away from the ship. It was like a crush but Connor knew that it was nothing so fleeting as that. It was something stronger. He didn’t like it. He had nothing against Lorcan personally, but he wished the boy vampire had never come into his sister’s life. But then again, if it hadn’t been for Lorcan, Grace would have drowned. It was as if in saving Grace’s life, Lorcan had claimed her for his own. What did he want with her? It made Connor’s head ache.
“If you know of Lorcan,” Darcy said, “then perhaps you know of his affliction? He is blind. They’ve gone to Sanctuary in search of a cure. The captain went with them, but he’s just returned.”
Blind? Could it be true? Now Connor felt bad. And his guilt was mingled with disappointment at the news that he would not, after all, be seeing Grace tonight. It had been the one bright point on a very dark horizon. Well, if he was not going to see her, they may as well get straight down to business.
“Actually,” Connor said, “though I’d have liked to see Grace, it’s the captain we’ve really come to visit.” Connor indicated his traveling companions. “Darcy, these are my friends. This is Bart . . .”
“Pleased to meet you.” Darcy gave a small curtsy and shook Bart’s hand. “Actually, I think I’ve seen you before. You came with Connor when he was on the ship that time before.”
“Yes,” Connor said with a nod. “That’s right. And this is . . . this is Jez.”
Jez reached out his hand to her. “Nice to meet you,” he said, holding her small pale hand in his for a moment.
Darcy blushed. “And you too, sir. Jez, is it?”
“That’s right,” he said, smiling. He seemed nervous, thought Connor, as well he might be.
A fresh voice began to speak. But it was not one of those gathered on the deck. The voice was a whisper. Connor recognized it immediately.
“Bring them to my cabin, Darcy.”
The captain’s command was sufficient to pull Darcy together. She turned and cleared her throat to address the circling vampires. “You heard the captain. He wishes me to escort the guests to his cabin. Now step aside, please. That’s right. Step aside!”
The vampires were slow to move but eventually a path opened up between their ranks. Connor tried not to meet any of their eyes. Already, he felt a deep sense of unease being aboard this ship. How Grace could deal with living among these creatures was a mystery to him. The sooner that he and Bart could pass Jez into the captain’s care and headed back to the living world, the better.
As they followed Darcy across the deck, he heard the confused girl ask once more, “But who are they? I want one. I want the youngest to be my new donor.”
“I do apologize for my fellow travelers,” Darcy said, sotto voce, to the three lads. “They are at their most listless tonight. It’s Feast Night tomorrow, you see, so they are entirely drained and incapable of even a good conversation right now.”
“Feast Night?” Jez repeated, his eyes full of wonder.
“Yes,” Darcy said. “It’s the night when each vampire takes the blood he or she needs for the following week.”
Jez nodded. Connor wondered how Jez felt about this new world, with its strange rituals.
Darcy led them to a doorway, and as they stood there, the cabin door opened. Darcy walked inside, beckoning the others to follow.
“Captain, I’ve brought your guests.”
“Thank you, Darcy,” came the captain’s disembodied whisper. “You can leave us now.”
She was clearly disappointed but as she exited the cabin, she reached out and brushed Jez’s arm. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Je — I mean to say, Jez!”
“Yes, and you, too,” he said, smiling at her. Once more, Connor sensed his nerves as he turned from Darcy to the captain. So much hinged on the captain’s decision. For Jez, it meant the different between life and death or, at least, between a living death and oblivion.
Darcy Flotsam walked out of the door and it swung closed behind her. The three lads found themselves momentarily in darkness. Connor’s pulse was racing. But, he told himself, I know the captain. I’ve met him before. And he’s looked after Grace. I have nothing to fear. And yet . . . and yet, this was a ship of vampires and here they were, in effect, locked in a dark room with the leader of the crew.
“Come inside,” came the whisper. As they did so, they entered a candlelit section of the cabin. Connor could see the folds of the captain’s cloak. He was standing, his back turned to them. Flickers of light traced the veins within the cape. Connor had seen this before but he knew how alarming it must seem to Bart and Jez. He wanted to comfort them but he dared not speak.
The captain turned to face them. As he did so, Bart gasped.
“My apologies,” the captain said. “I forgot that though I have seen you before, Bartholomew, you have not seen me. Please, do not be alarmed by my appearance. You will become accustomed to it, I’m sure.”
“I’m sorry, sir, you’ve seen me before?”
“Why yes,” the captain said. “It was at Calle del Marinero, I believe. You were having . . . difficulties. I was able to help you.”
Calle del Marinero . . . their “lost weekend”? Connor was stunned. “You were there?” he said, puzzled.
The captain nodded. “I was there. But let us not concern ourselves with that now. Connor, it is good to see you again. You look well.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Doubtless you would welcome news of your sister,” said the captain, reaching out a gloved hand and placing it on Connor’s shoulder. “She is well and seems to grow in strength and wisdom every day. We all have so much to learn from her.”
Connor flushed with pride.
“I imagine that the choice she has made must seem strange to you,” the captain continued. “But each of us must make our own way in this world and I think Grace is exactly where she should be.”
Connor nodded. “Actually, I think so, too, sir.”
The captain nodded back and withdrew his hand. He moved past Connor and Bart and came to a standstill before Jez.
“This is Jez . . .” Connor began.
“There is no need to introduce us,” said the captain. “I know who stands before me.” He paused. “This is the one I thought you had destroyed. The one sired by Sidorio.”
His words were cold. All the warmth he had shown Connor had drained suddenly away. Now he spoke directly to Jez. “There is much darkness in you,” he said.
“Yes,” Jez said, his voice faint.
&n
bsp; “Why are you here?” the captain asked.
“I want to shed my darkness,” Jez said. “I want to change what I’ve become.”
The captain stood for a good while, observing Jez. As he did so, tears began flowing down Jez’s face.
“I didn’t ask for this,” he said. “I accepted my death. But he found me and, as you say, sired me.” He paused to wipe the tears on the back of his hand. “I’ve done some terrible things. Some that he made me do. Others because of the hunger. This terrible hunger, which I can’t control.” He began to tremble.
“And you think I can help you with this?”
“I have heard certain things, sir. That there are ways to reverse my condition. That I might become a mortal once more. That I might get my old life back.”
“Yes,” the captain said. “It is true that this can happen, but the way is paved with difficulties. I will not help you with that. I can take you to another . . .”
“It is your help I seek, sir,” Jez said. “When I was mortal, sir, I heard Connor’s sister talk of you, of how strong and merciful you are. How you give shelter to those like me —”
“No,” the captain interrupted. “I give shelter to those who control their hunger. I can’t take the risk of having you aboard the ship.”
Connor couldn’t believe it. Had they come this far only to be told no by the captain? Grimly, he remembered what Jez had said to them back on The Diablo. “I want you to help me find my way back. And if I can’t, then I want you to kill me. Once and for all.” He had to do something.
“Captain,” Connor said. “Isn’t there anything you can do to help him?”
“I didn’t say I couldn’t help. I said I wouldn’t.” The captain stepped back. “You should have destroyed him when you had the chance. It would have been better all around.”
“But Captain . . .”
“No, Connor. I told you once before. He is not who you think he is. He is only an echo. He may talk like your friend and look like him, but there is too much darkness in him. We can thank Sidorio for that.”