Connor smiled but said nothing.
Grace nodded, piecing together the jigsaw in her head. " That's what Bart was doing here. You've sent a message back with him."
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Connor shook his head. "You're close, but actually Bart's appearance took me by surprise. The message went back ahead of his visit."
Grace pulled out a chair and sat down. "I envy you, Connor. Throughout all of this, you've always known what side you're on. Your life has so much clarity--you're a pirate on an undercover mission. Whatever's happened here, however much Sidorio and Stukeley ingratiate themselves with you, you've never lost sight of your mission. You were simply here to spy on the rebels and send back intelligence, and that's what you've done. And now, I suppose your mission is successfully concluded and you'll be returning to The Tiger --assuming it survives tonight's attack."
Connor pulled out the chair beside her. "It will survive the attack," he said, sitting down. "Cheng Li and Cate have been preparing for this scenario for months." He paused, his voice softer now. "But I'm not going back."
Grace's eyes registered surprise. "What do you mean?"
Connor held her gaze. "Exactly as I say. I'm a dhampir now. Of course, I always was--I just didn't know it. So now I have this constant hunger for blood. How can I possibly go back and live among normal people?"
"Mortals," Grace corrected him.
"Like I say, normal people. I'm no longer mortal. I'm a dhampir, Sidorio's son. I hate it, of course. I hate the hunger and the violence. Frankly, I hate just about everything about my life aboard The Blood Captain . But, most of all, I
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hate this thing I've become. I'd give anything to go back to my old life, but that isn't an option. I can't fight my true being, but I can protect the people I really care about--and that means staying as far away from them as possible."
"Oh, Connor," Grace said, reaching out her hand to him. "I'm so sorry you feel this way. I wish we'd talked sooner."
He shrugged, squeezing her hand but letting it go. "What's the point in talking? We'll probably get through this. We usually do."
Grace frowned. "Connor, I hate to see you like this. You're immortal now. We've both been blessed with this amazing gift. You can't just plan on 'getting through' eternity--there has to be more to it than that. We have to make our lives meaningful!"
Connor smiled bitterly. "Bart and Molucco both have this motto: a pirate's life should be 'short but merry.' I never really saw the point of it before, but when I think of the alternative-- this alternative--I completely get it."
Grace shuddered. "Are you really saying that you'd swap places with Molucco? He's dead now, isn't he?"
Connor nodded. "Yes, and yes."
"Oh, Connor," Grace said again, shaking her head.
"Let's talk about you," he said. "Seems like you've adapted to life here pretty easily, unlike me."
"Too easily," Grace said. "Don't forget, I came here on a mission, too. Well, two missions, in fact. My official mis
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sion was similar to yours--to spy on the rebels and report back to the Nocturnals." Seeing her brother's blank face, she reminded him. "That's what Mosh Zu and Lorcan have renamed their crew."
"Yes, I remember," he nodded. "And how has your mission gone?"
Grace nodded. "I've done my bit, reporting back to them each night via astral travel." Suddenly she paused, glancing at him. "Hey, how about you? How did you send your messages back to Cheng Li?"
Connor smiled. "I sent them via a fishtail--a kind of mermaid. How else?"
Grace nodded, impressed. "Well, like I say, I've done my bit. I've told them how things work around here--Lola's blood harvests, that kind of thing. I think they feel it's been useful."
"You don't sound so sure," Connor said.
Grace shrugged. "I'm sure about their feelings; it's mine I'm less certain about. Although I came here on an official mission, I had my own private mission as well. I wanted to change the way things worked here. I thought I could use my influence, this new position as Sidorio's daughter, to change the way they did things. Naively, I actually thought I might be some kind of civilizing force."
"What happened to change your mind?" Connor asked.
"This," Grace said, sweeping her hand across the table. She picked up a tiny rose-colored macaroon and placed it
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on her palm. "These pretty little cakes--and everything else they've been feeding us from our very first night here--are laced with blood. They've been using them to stoke my hunger. Yours, too, of course."
Connor nodded. It all made sense.
"You seem to have managed to control your hunger much better than me," Grace said. "I'm out of control, Connor. I'm so ashamed to admit this, but a few nights back, on one of Lola's blood hunts, I almost killed a girl. Isn't that terrible?"
Connor shrugged, his expression dark. "There's already one killer sitting at this table," he said. "Why not two?"
Grace frowned, hating hearing him so down on himself. "You had good reasons for killing that guard. You acted to save your comrade's life. But Lola's sprees are just sport. All that blood, bottled up in her cellars, is totally unnecessary."
Connor shook his head. "Surely it's completely necessary. Everyone on these two--or rather, five --ships needs blood to survive, Grace. Us included."
"Yes," Grace conceded. "But there is another way--the way of the Nocturnals. I lost sight of that in this fog of hunger, but now I'm beginning to see clearly again." She faced Connor square on. "The thought of someone taking blood was never so terrible to me because I've seen how it can be done in a disciplined, responsible way--through the donor system." She crushed the blood macaroon in
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her fist and brushed the crumbs onto the floor. "People don't need to die for us to thrive."
Connor was impressed by his sister's sudden show of strength. "You said you envied my clarity of purpose, but it seems like you're the clear-sighted one, Grace. If you're able to accept your hunger for blood, then you know the ship you should be sailing on; the people you need to be surrounded with. From where I'm sitting, it looks like you have it all worked out, sis."
Grace shook her head. "It's not that simple. Connor, you know that. I like it here. I've always found the Vampirates fascinating. I love their culture and I love hearing their personal histories. It wasn't the worst thing to discover that I truly belonged in this world. I thought it was going to be horrible coming on board The Vagabond , but in many ways it's more fun than The Nocturne . I've made great new friends here--Mimma, Jacqui, and Nat..."
"And Johnny?" Connor added.
Grace blushed. "Yes, and Johnny. He's very cool. I met him before, you know--at Sanctuary. He thinks he's such a bad boy, but deep down he's just a pussycat."
Connor raised his eyebrows. "From what I hear, he led the attack on Molucco. Your pussycat may be another man's killer tiger."
Grace's face was guarded. "Johnny's very susceptible to other people's influence," she said. "He was in his mortal life, and he has been ever since he crossed over. He's been
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molded by Sidorio and Stukeley, but he's just as open to good influences..."
"Like you," Connor suggested.
"Well, yes," Grace said.
"I thought that you already had a boyfriend," Connor said.
Grace frowned. "I do," she said. "And I care deeply for Lorcan. He's been so good to me, right from the start. The last thing I want to do is hurt him, but I think I may already have done that."
Connor squeezed her hand. "You're young," he said. "We both are. We always knew we had our whole lives ahead of us; we just didn't realize we'd been granted the bonus eternity package. Grace, after everything we've been through, I think we're allowed some time to make mistakes, to find out what we believe and who we are."
Grace smiled. "Yes," she said. "You're right."
"It was nice having this chance to talk, just the two of us," Connor said.
"It's crazy really--we've been on each other's doorsteps for the first time in ages, and yet we've barely spoken two words to each other each night."
"Yes," Grace said. "But we both had a lot going on. It was good just to know you were close."
Connor smiled at her. "Thanks, Grace. That means a lot."
She squeezed his hand once more. "I'm always here for you," she said. "You may be shutting other people out from your life, but please don't shut me out." She smiled.
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"I think what I'm starting to realize is that we're far more in control of our own destiny than we've given ourselves credit for."
Just then, the door opened, and Lola swept inside, Sidorio close upon her heels.
"Hello, darlings," Lola said, striding toward the table. She frowned. "What's up with you two? You've barely touched a thing."
"I'm not hungry," Connor said unapologetically.
"We were too busy talking," Grace added. "It was nice to have some family time."
"Talking of family," Lola said, turning to Sidorio, "I have a surprise for you, my love."
Three pairs of eyes turned expectantly to Lola. Smiling, she strode past the twins to the end of the table, approaching the easel draped in red velvet. "Signor Caravaggio delivered our family portrait earlier this evening. I forced myself not to peek until we were all together. Come closer, everyone, and I'll unveil it!"
The twins stood up from the table and walked over to join Lola. Sidorio followed.
Lola gripped the velvet cover by the corner and pulled. "One... two... three!"
Grace gasped.
Connor frowned.
Sidorio smiled.
Lola lifted up the cloth and clapped her hands. "Oh, isn't it marvelous? Hasn't he done a wonderful job?"
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"Yes," Sidorio said, drawing Lola to his side. "My family."
" Our family," she corrected him, beckoning the twins to come and join them.
Connor lingered at the portrait, reluctant to join in any group hug. The picture was absolutely grotesque. They had all been painted with the fire of hunger in their eyes, and both he and Sidorio had blood dripping from the sides of their mouths. Although the painter had achieved a good likeness of each of them, he had also employed a hefty dollop of artistic license. They certainly hadn't needed to sit for so many hours for this.
"It's very good," Grace said punchily. "Where are you going to hang it?"
Sidorio shrugged but, as ever, Lola was ahead of her husband. "Darling, I thought you should have it on The Blood Captain . After all, that's the lead ship in our fleet. And that way, even when Grace and I aren't physically on board, you'll have a lovely reminder of the two most important women in your life."
Sidorio nodded and leaned across to kiss his wife. "Perfect," he said.
Lola lifted the picture and presented it to her husband. "Why don't you take it with you now?" she suggested. She turned to the twins. "Well, seeing as neither of you has touched your food, I declare Tiffin to be over. Besides, the night holds much excitement for you both." She smiled enigmatically.
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"What kind of excitement?" Grace asked.
Lola turned toward Sidorio. "I'll let your father explain," she said.
Sidorio smiled, his gold teeth glinting. "Lola's right. Tonight is a very special night for you both," he said. "Grace, you are to report to the deck of The Diablo . Obsidian Darke has requested that you join his attack force."
Grace's face went white. "He wants me to join the attack on The Tiger ?"
"Isn't it exciting?" Lola said. "Run along, dear, it's not long till they sail. Oh, and you might want to rethink those shoes."
Before Grace could protest, Sidorio approached Connor. "My son, this will be the night of your initiation. Tonight, you will become a full-fledged dhampir as you and I take blood together." Sidorio smiled proudly at his son. "Go now to your cabin on board The Blood Captain . You'll find a note from me there, and the first of three gifts to mark this momentous night."
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40 THE QUICK AND THE UNDEAD
Grace felt adrenaline coursing through her as The Diablo sped across the ocean in pursuit of The Tiger . She had never been involved in a battle before and had absolutely no idea what to expect. Nor did she have any clue as to why Obsidian Darke should have claimed her for his team--or why Sidorio and Lola had agreed to his request. Was she being sent into the battle arena to prove herself or merely to die? Less than an hour ago, she'd been talking calmly to Connor about their immortality, but she hadn't reckoned on being dispatched to war that very night! True, there had been no Vampirate fatalities in the previous three attacks--at least none that had been reported back--but tonight was fundamentally different. They were attacking a ship of dedicated Vampirate assassins. A cold dread took hold of Grace. She'd had no
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combat training--save a few lessons during her brief sojourn on this very ship--and, if things proceeded as expected, this was going to be a very violent confrontation indeed.
After parting from Connor and the others, Grace had gone back to her cabin. She had found a new pair of boots and an antique sword lying on her bed, along with another of Lola's handwritten notes:
I think both of these may prove useful to you. The sword once belonged to another Grace--an Irish pirate by the name of O'Malley. I "borrowed" it from the Pirate Academy. Mum's the word!
LLL xxx
Now Grace gripped the hilt of the ancient sword in her right hand. Her other hand clasped Johnny's tightly. He'd been shocked to see her arrive on deck and quickly reassured her that he'd watch out for her in the fight. She was grateful to hear it. It was all very well Lola giving her a legendary pirate's sword, but she hadn't the first idea how to use it. It really ought to be Connor standing here in her place--he'd know exactly what to do--but it seemed that Sidorio had other plans for her brother tonight.
Grace glanced toward the prow of the ship, where Obsidian Darke stood alone, his back turned to the rest of the crew. He was barely lit by the moonlight. The Diablo was sailing with no lights so as to arrive at The Tiger 's side
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without warning. Although, Grace reminded herself, Connor had already sent them a warning, so even if the actual moment of attack was a surprise, the fact of it should not be. It was eerie sailing on a ship in utter darkness, making your way through the night. Around her, the ocean had become a void. With her vision limited, Grace's other senses intensified. She could hear the heavy rigging creaking overhead, but, as she glanced upward, her eyes couldn't even pinpoint the top of the mast.
Darke, whom her eyes returned to now, was a similar enigma. In many ways, Grace found him a more chilling presence than Sidorio, who had lately revealed a more human side. In contrast, she had been unable to break through Darke's defenses. Perhaps it was a good thing. Grace could only guess at the layers of dark sediment that had built up over so many years to form Darke's character.
As the galleon rolled from port to starboard and back again, Darke's footing seemed preternaturally solid. Silhouetted by moonlight--arms folded, head fixed on the horizon--he resembled a statue. Not the graceful statues you found in museums but the more brutal kind, raised by dictators--of themselves--in parks and squares, to remind a subjugated people of their lot in life.
Johnny nudged Grace and pointed ahead. There in the middle of the dark ocean was a brightly lit ship: The Tiger . Its mainsail was down and its deck lights on. Grace felt a wave of nausea. The ship looked so vulnerable. Could it be that Connor's message hadn't reached Cheng Li?
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Now Obsidian turned to address the rebel troops. "We're nearly there," he cried, his thunderous voice carrying not only across the deck but farther, out across the ocean. "You've already had your instructions. I have only one thing to add." At that point, a shaft of moonlight illuminated Darke's hard face and cold eyes. "Kill or maim any pirate who crosses your path. But leave the captain to me."
As The Diablo s
lammed into the side of The Tiger , the two wooden hulls cracked and splintered on impact. Vampirates began leaping the gap between the two ships even before the three drawbridges slammed down into position.
"Stay close!" Johnny cried, gripping Grace's hand and leading her to the middle bridge. "Watch your step," Johnny told her now. "The bridges get slippery, and you need to watch out for sudden movement, too. It's best to move fast."
Grace followed in Johnny's wake, doing just as he instructed. As she jumped down onto the deck of The Tiger , Grace felt a fresh wave of adrenaline pumping into her veins. No wonder Connor had grown addicted to such moments. She was filled with fear and yet, in a way, she had never felt so alive.
Although the pirate ship had seemed unprepared for attack, this was clearly a ruse, for now the members of its
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crew came streaming out from every corner, waving swords and roaring battle cries. The fight had begun.
Grace stuck close to Johnny. She had already made a decision. She would be merciful and use her sword only to defend herself. She just hoped she was capable of that. As she witnessed the speed and force of the fighting around her, she backed away to the very edge of the deck.
Her overriding impression was of speed and confusion--and blood, so much blood. She had imagined these battles as like one of Connor's soccer games, but the reality wasn't anything like that. There was no order here. It was hard even to tell who was on each side. By and large, the Vampirates and the pirates were dressed in similar battle attire, and both sides wielded similar-looking swords. Already, several bodies had fallen onto the deck, creating obstacles for those left standing.
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