Sidorio smiled. "It's very simple, Lieutenant. See, as we are expanding our fleet, myself and my co-commander--that's my lovely wife--need to see who has what it takes to step up to the rank of captain."
Darke nodded. "And?"
"Good news!" Sidorio announced. "You've made it to the final cut. Now I just need to see the fire in your eyes. So I'm giving you a mission. You will lead the next attack. I'm looking for great things from you, Darke."
Once more, Obsidian Darke nodded.
Sidorio nudged a well-thumbed sheet of paper in the Vampirate's direction. Darke reached out his long, white fingers and took it.
"It's the list of pirate ships we're taking to build our fleet," Sidorio explained. "I've crossed out the ones already secured by myself, Stukeley, and Johnny. You can take your pick of the rest. You have forty-eight hours to prepare for the attack. Choose whichever of the crew you'd
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like to back you up. Except me. Obviously. I never stand in for anyone."
"Indeed," Darke said, passing back the list and rising to his feet. "Will that be all?"
Sidorio nodded. "That's all."
"Which ship have you chosen?" Stukeley asked.
Darke's cold eyes swept across his three comrades. " The Tiger ," he said.
Johnny laughed.
Stukeley let out a whistle. "You don't mess around, mate, do you?"
"It seems my choice is a source of some amusement to you?"
"No, no," Stukeley said, exchanging a grin with Johnny. "Except you might find those pirates just a bit better prepared for the fight."
Darke raised an eyebrow.
"It's the ship of Vampirate assassins," Johnny explained.
Darke did not react. "I will go and begin planning my strategy," he said. Nodding at Sidorio, he turned and made his exit.
As the door closed behind him, Johnny swigged from his bottle again. "I don't like that hombre ," he said.
"Nobody does," Sidorio replied. "That's what I like about him!" He frowned. "However, he certainly knows how to break the party mood. I'm going to hit the sack."
Stukeley nodded. He pointed at Johnny, whose eyes
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were already closed. "Looks like our little cowboy is ready for the night train to Slumberville, too!"
"Not in my cabin!" Sidorio boomed, giving Johnny a sharp kick with his boot.
"What's that?" Johnny asked, his eyes opening wide in confusion. "Where am I?"
Ignoring Johnny's ramblings, Stukeley addressed Sidorio. "Captain, there's been something I've been meaning to tell you all night, but somehow I just never got around to it."
"I'm tired now," Sidorio said. "You've missed your window. Try me again later."
Stukeley persisted. "It's about Connor."
Sidorio's interest was immediately piqued. "What about Connor?"
"It's good news," Stukeley said. "The news you've been waiting for, in fact."
Sidorio drummed his feet on the floor. "Go on."
Stukeley smiled. "His blood hunger has risen," he said.
Sidorio's eyes widened. He grinned, his gold incisors glinting in the lamplight.
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32 THE HUNT
Darling Grace,
Wakey, wakey! I hope you slept well and had delicious dreams. The girls and I are heading out from the ship on a little jaunt this evening, and we'd love you to join us. Our carriages arrive at ten o'clock sharp. Wear something gorgeous and meet us up on deck.
LLL xxx
p.s. Please bring the attached with you. It may come in handy later!
Lola's note brought a smile to Grace's face. She had just woken up, but it was only eight o'clock, so she had plenty of time to get ready. She felt full of energy--in fact, rather restless--and a trip away from the ship with Lola, Mimma, and the gang sounded perfect. Grace wondered
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if they might bring along some more of those delicious rose-colored macaroons. She had certainly missed nibbling on them the past couple of nights.
Grace noticed the paper clip peeping over the corner of Lola's note. Turning the paper over, she found a playing card resting under the clip. Intrigued, she slipped it out and held it up to the light. It looked like a regular playing card--the Queen of Hearts--only it was black. Grace smiled, wondering if it was part of a game they were going to play later. Then she set down the card and Lola's note for safekeeping and opened up her closet. She had a very important decision to make--which dress and shoes should she wear for tonight's outing?
Grace was dressed and ready to head out by nine thirty. She had butterflies in her stomach, but she wasn't sure why. How could time be dragging so slowly?
There was a knock on her door, and gratefully she ran toward it. Who could it be? Maybe Johnny, she thought with a smile.
Opening the door, she found Mimma standing there, impeccably dressed and groomed as usual.
"I love your outfit," Grace said as she let Mimma in.
"Yours too!" Mimma said. "I don't think I've seen you in that dress before. The color really brings out your eyes."
Grace flushed with pride and anticipation of the night
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ahead. "I'm really looking forward to our outing," she said. "Do tell me where we're going and what Lola has planned!"
Mimma smiled. "All in good time, dear. I guarantee it will be an evening to remember." She snapped open her handbag. "Seeing as you're coming out with us all tonight, I thought you might like me to give you the black heart again." She held up her makeup brushes, ready for action.
"Oh yes!" Grace said. "That's a wonderful idea."
Mimma set to work. As before, she was meticulous. Finally, she set down her brush and led Grace to the mirror to assess her handiwork.
"It looks great!" Grace said. "Oh, but you've done it around my left eye. You all wear your hearts around your right eye. Only Lola has hers on the left."
Mimma smiled and put her hand on Grace's bare shoulder. Grace realized she was trembling, for some reason. Mimma's touch helped to steady her.
"You're special," Mimma said. "You're Lola's daughter now."
The others were waiting up on deck as Mimma led Grace out, arm in arm. Lola turned and broke off from the group. She looked stunning in a long coat trimmed with fur and a hunting hat with a spray of exotic feathers tucked in the brim.
"Good evening, Mimma. And who's this sophisticated lady?" Lola's head turned slowly from side to side. "Could
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it be? No, I don't think... but it is... why, Grace Tempest. Look how you've grown up before our very eyes!"
Grace flushed with pride once more. "Thank you," she said, still a little nervous. "I hope you don't mind my wearing the heart... on the left, I mean."
Lola smiled and clasped Grace's hands. "I love it!" she said. Her eyes met Grace's. "My dear, you're shaking. We had better get you into the warmth." She turned to address the rest of her crew. "Come on, everyone! Our carriages await!"
The five carriages trundled up the hill road, each pulled by a black horse. Grace thought of Nieve and wondered if Johnny might be out riding her alone tonight. The rider of her carriage didn't look unlike Johnny--though, Grace reflected, not quite so handsome. Each of the young male drivers of the five carriages was dressed formally in a black tailcoat and top hat.
Grace rode in Lola's carriage, along with Mimma and Zofia. They had loaded what looked like three chunky briefcases with them, and these were placed on the floor of the carriage now, wobbling from side to side as the wheels rattled along the uneven track.
"Are those picnic boxes?" Grace asked.
The others laughed at that.
"No," said Mimma.
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"She's not far off the mark, to be fair," Lola said, turning her face to the carriage window. "We're almost there, now. Look, Grace, isn't that a handsome house? Not unlike the one I myself was raised in."
Lola's gloved hand tapped the window pane. Grace leaned across and glanced o
ut. The track continued up to the very top of the hill. And there, nestling right on top, like a beautiful iced cake, was a white mansion with columns around the entrance.
"It's lovely," Grace said, sitting back against the seat once more. "Does it belong to friends of yours? Are they having a party?"
Lola smiled brightly. "Yes, dear. Something like that."
The five carriages drew up around the ornamental fountain in the center of the driveway. As Grace stepped down from their carriage, it looked like a fairytale setting with the water speckled silver in the moonlight.
Lola strode over to the driver. "Thank you, Rodrigo," she said. "Wait here for us. You know the drill."
"Yes, ma'am," said the driver, doffing his hat at the captain.
Grace looked back, seeing a number of familiar faces stepping out from the other carriages--Jacqueline, Nathalie, Jessamy, Camille, Leonie, and Holly. There were sixteen of them in all, each beautifully dressed, each of them carrying a chunky black case.
"What are those cases?" Grace asked Lola. "Why don't I have one?"
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"Don't fret, dear," Lola said. "You're mainly here in an observational capacity."
"Observing what?" Grace wondered aloud.
Lola didn't answer. She was already at the door, rapping the elaborate brass knocker loudly. There was a brief delay and then the door opened, revealing a brightly lit hallway inside. A smartly dressed valet appeared, and Lola leaned forward to speak to him. As she did so, the pair disappeared from Grace's view. In any case, she was distracted by Leonie and Holly, who had come over to compliment her on her dress and the black heart "tattoo."
"It will be time for you to get a proper one soon," Leonie said.
Lola reappeared on the front steps and clapped her gloved hands briskly. "Come on in, ladies! I'm afraid we'll have to make our own way to the dining room. It seems the valet is indisposed."
Lola stepped inside and the others followed. As Grace entered the hallway, she noticed something lying on the floor. No, not something but someone . It was the valet. His face was pale gray, and there was a pool of crimson blood flowing from two piercings on his chest.
"Go ahead, Grace," said Holly, catching her eye. "I'll deal with him." So saying, she crouched down beside the man and snapped open her briefcase. Grace saw her reach inside for some equipment. Was it some kind of medical bag?
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"Come on!" Mimma swept Grace off along the corridor.
It was an impressively long hallway, but Lola seemed to know exactly where she was headed. Fifteen pairs of heels clicked on the marble floor tiles. Grace felt butterflies in her stomach once more as they turned a corner and moved like a Chinese dragon toward a pair of double doors at the end. Lola positioned herself in the center of the doors and adjusted her hat and coat. Jessamy and Camille took hold of a door each. They exchanged a nod with Lola, then pulled them open. Lola strode into the room.
Jessamy and Camille ushered their crewmates in after the captain. Mimma took Grace's hand and led her toward the dining table at the center of the room. An elegantly dressed group of people appeared to be in the closing stages of a very fine dinner party. Grace counted the heads at the table. Twelve. Then she looked around the table at Lola's crewmates, each standing poised with a black case at her side.
The silver-haired man at the far end of the table rose. "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Who are you?"
Lola unpinned her hat. "Colonel Marchmain," she said. "Surely your memory isn't as poor as all that? I'm Lady Lola Lockwood Sidorio, proprietor of the Black Heart Winery. I made an appointment with you regarding our wares. Surely you haven't forgotten?"
Lola noticed that the elderly but well-groomed woman
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at the other end of the table was now shooting daggers at the old colonel. He shook his head. "I don't remember any kind of appointment with a winery," he said, shaking his head.
Lola frowned. "Well, this is a little awkward. As you can see, it's not just a matter of inconvenience to myself. I've brought along the key winery team." Lola gestured around the room at her colleagues. You could have cut the tension in the room with a knife.
"Geoffrey!" exclaimed the woman at the end of the table. "I don't know what's going on here, but please tell this ghastly woman to leave. I will not have my daughter's engagement soiree ruined! Get them out!"
"Leave this to me, Honoria," the Colonel said gruffly. "I have everything under control." He approached Lady Lola, who observed him with cool detachment, hands on hips. "Now look," said the Colonel, "I don't know quite how this confusion has arisen, but I don't recall making an appointment with the Black Heart Winery or any other winery. The fact of the matter is I buy all my vino from Clarke's. Always have." His tone softened. "That said, in light of the fact that you and your colleagues have been inconvenienced, for whatever reason, I would be amenable to setting up a meeting at another juncture to discuss a small order."
As Lola weighed up his words, she slowly peeled off her long gloves. Then she shook her head sharply. "There will be no need for another appointment, Colonel. We're not
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here to sell you wine. This is more of a harvesting mission."
The Colonel stared blankly at her. Grace felt her heart racing. Suddenly, she understood what this was all about. How could she have been so slow on the uptake?
Lola snapped her fingers. "Ladies, to work!"
Grace stood out in the hallway. She had felt faint in the dining room watching Lola and her crew go about their business. It had been strange. She wasn't sure it was wholly down to repulsion, either. She had felt an element of hunger, too--and it was no longer a hunger for patisserie or any such conventional foodstuffs.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Holly unplugging her equipment from the corpse of the valet. Holly wiped the nozzle and then zipped it neatly back into the pack she wore around her waist, before turning her attention to the six bottles standing beside her. She screwed a cap onto each bottle in turn and loaded them into her black briefcase. Grace watched in fascinated horror. She remembered her earlier thought that the cases might have contained their picnic--and Lola's words: "Not far off the mark."
A cry and frantic footsteps drew her attention away from the case. She turned and saw a young woman running toward her. She was bleeding from her thorax and,
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as she ran, blood spattered her pretty tulle dress. "Please!" she cried to Grace, "help me!"
Grace nodded. "Come on!" she said. "I will... I will help you." Holly turned in surprise as Grace took the girl's hand and they ran down the steps and through the open doorway out into the night.
At the fountain in the driveway, the girl stopped for a moment, drawing breath with a sob. "They've all been killed. And worse..."
"It's all right," Grace said, holding the girl steady in her arms. She found herself face-to-face with her. The girl was pretty and not much older than herself. Grace remembered the older woman's words before. She looked at the girl. "Tonight was your engagement party, wasn't it?"
The girl nodded, tears trailing down her neck and mingling with her blood. "It's all over now. Everything's over."
"Yes," Grace said. She found herself looking at the warm blood still budding on the girl's decolletage. Suddenly, all she could focus on was the blood. The girl's words, her tears, were lost to her. All Grace could think about was her own hunger, taking over each of her senses, driving her forward.
Before she knew what she was doing, Grace found herself bending forward, licking the blood. She felt the girl recoil but, instinctively, Grace gripped her tighter, pressing her against the edge of the fountain. Suddenly, her butterflies were gone. So too was that strange feeling of
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hunger. Now Grace knew exactly what she needed.... She leaned forward once more.
Just then, Grace felt a pair of hands pulling at her waist.
"Grace! Let her go!" It was Lola.
Grace clung t
ightly onto the girl, but Lola's grip won out. As she pulled Grace away, the girl fell, limp, to the gravel below.
Lola looked at Grace and shook her head. "My, my," she said. "You are a little greedy guts, aren't you?" She reached into her pocket and produced a handkerchief, then wiped away the ring of blood from Grace's mouth.
"That's better," Lola said. "Now, you should know that we have a certain way of doing things around here. And that is not it."
Lola's crewmates began exiting the house. They strode over to the waiting carriages, stilettos crunching on the gravel, briefcases in hand.
Lola clicked her fingers. "Camille! Grace has made a start here; could you take over?"
Camille nodded and, snapping open her case, knelt down beside the girl's body.
"Come on, dear," Lola said, leading Grace firmly away. "I think you've had enough excitement for one night, don't you?"
Grace was too dazed to speak. But now Lola smiled. "Don't look embarrassed, my dear. It's wonderful that your hunger has risen. Of course it is! Sid will be just
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thrilled at the news. But I can't have any member of my crew--and certainly not my own stepdaughter--behaving in such an uncouth fashion. It would destroy my reputation."
Grace hung her head, but Lola reached out her hand and lifted her chin. "Come on," she joked. "Back to our carriage before it turns into a pumpkin!"
As they set off, arm in arm, Lola paused. "Did you bring that playing card with you?" she asked.
Grace nodded, reaching into the pocket of her skirt and removing the black Queen of Hearts card, which had been attached to Lola's invitation.
"Perfect!" Lola said, taking the playing card. She turned and threw it toward the dead girl's prone body. The card fluttered like a moth in the night air before landing on the girl's open mouth. Lola squeezed Grace's arm. "It's my calling card," she explained.
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