Vampires of the Caribbean

by Debra Dunbar

  When he finally tore his attention from her hair, it was the man beside her that snared his focus. He pressed his blade against his thigh, trying very hard not to make a threatening gesture. It wasn’t a man, per se, but a demon. Great black horns curled from his head, crowning a mostly human face. Leathery wings towered behind him, providing shelter for the woman at his side. As Cain stared, the demon plucked a cigarette out of thin air and leaned over to the woman. She shook her head, but obligingly put a fingertip to the end of the cigarette. A spark leapt to life and the demon inhaled deeply, exhaling the scent of cloves in a sweet-smelling cloud.

  “Good evening,” he said, smirking at Cain’s silence. “You must be Brea’s lover.”

  The woman elbowed him in the stomach, causing the demon to cough out another cloud of smoke.

  “Adonis, don’t be rude.”

  “What’s rude?” he choked, coughing to clear his lungs. “Why does everyone think ‘lover’ is such a—”

  “Don’t mind him,” she said firmly. “He’s actually very sweet.”

  Adonis shrugged in surrender, curling his wing more firmly around the woman.

  Kirill ignored the conversation, focusing instead on the warden. Cain realized the scarred vampire was kneeling on the ground not far from the pit, practically pressing his face into the dirt.

  “I have been looking for you for a long time,” Kirill said. “I realize that it was…inadvertent, but you are the reason my family is not decaying in the earth even now.” He paused. “Or rather, I suppose we would be above ground, our heads on spikes or some such nonsense. Be that as it may, I am quite pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

  The warden still said nothing. He knelt on the ground with a stillness that could have been true death. Cain wondered if his mind had finally broken, leaving his body an empty husk. Kirill studied him for a moment.

  “I’ve heard of the island,” he said finally. “I’ve been searching for it for some time, but as you may know, it is notoriously difficult to locate even for those who know of its existence. I am quite interested to know more details about who is here, how they came to be here…and who is in charge of it.” His eyes grew sharper at that last part, and he leaned in. “If you will provide me that information, I will take you away from this place.”

  “I can’t leave,” the warden mumbled. “They will know. I have to be here when they make contact.”

  “They. How do they contact you?”

  “Once a year, one of them shows up. Asks how many are still here, how many have greeted the dawn. How many he’s killed. There’s no schedule, no way to predict their arrival.”

  The warden spoke in a monotone, a simple relay of information. Cain settled his weight firmly on both feet, ready to react if the insane vampire made a sudden move, snapped out of his strange calm. The entire situation was surreal.

  Kirill slid his glance to Cain even as he continued to speak to the warden. “What if you could be replaced? Your substitute could notify you of their arrival, and I will arrange for you to be here in seconds.”

  Shock jerked Cain’s spine straight. Kirill was looking at him, staring at him in a way that said more clearly than words it would be very unwise for him to refuse the mission he’d just volunteered him for. Cain swiveled his head to look at the demon and the woman, still bewildered by their presence as much as anything. What the blazes is going on here?

  The warden looked up, but his face betrayed no hint of his thoughts, his mental state. “How can you promise such speed? The shores of this island are closely watched.”

  Kirill gestured above him. Cain and the warden both followed the movement to find a gargoyle perched on a tree branch above the prince. The small stone beast remained expressionless under the sudden scrutiny, observing the goings on below it with a blank stare.

  “As you will soon see, guardian gargoyles are quite convenient when one must travel quickly. I can assure you, the vampire who arrives to contact you will never know you left the island.”

  The warden stood slowly, but still did not look hopeful. The scars of his face pinched as he squinted at the prince. “And the selkies?”

  Again Kirill’s gaze slid to Cain. “I’m sure our representative could be persuaded to adjust the details of the contract.”

  He spoke with the same confidence he might have if he’d actually discussed this with Cain and gotten his consent before making the offer. Frustration sizzled over Cain’s nerves, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping.

  The warden hesitated. “It won’t work,” he mumbled. “I cannot help you. My mind has…gone. It goes. Comes and goes.”

  Kirill took a careful step closer to the warden, and when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly gentle. “I know of a place where the sun does not shine for half the year. Sanctuary in the true dark away from this sunny isle will heal you in time,” he said quietly. “Even your flesh will heal, if not by dark alone, then by my healer’s hand. I am grateful for what you did for me, however accidentally. Let me help you.”

  The warden’s face crumpled and a sob escaped his throat. “I’ve been here so long. What if it’s too late? I do not want to live this way.”

  “Give it time. A decade, a mere blink of the eye. If you still do not wish to continue…”

  As the warden stared at him, the prince let all the emotion drain from his face. “Then I will kill you myself.”

  Hope blazed painfully bright in the warden’s eyes. “You promise?”

  Kirill didn’t answer, just held his gaze.

  The warden held perfectly still, waiting, then said, “I will come with you.” He sagged, relief pouring off him in waves. Pink-tinged tears spilled from his eyes. “I can accept. I can accept the offer. Not a promise of death, just a promise of hope. I can accept. I accept, I accept.”

  A line flickered between Kirill’s brows, but then it was gone. His gaze sharpened and he took a step toward Cain. He didn’t reach for a weapon, didn’t snarl or glare, but somehow there was a distinctly…prickly aura to him now that suggested he would not underestimate Cain as an opponent. Cain wasn’t sure if he should take that as a compliment or an insult.

  “There are so many stories about you. It took me quite a while to discover the truth. You were an executioner as a human, and you were turned by a vampire by the name of Morte—self-named obviously, he had a deplorable flair for the dramatic.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What Morte failed to realize when he turned you, was you had quite the passion for…‘justice.’”

  He said “justice” in a way that suggested amusement, but moved on quickly. His gaze fell to the blade in Cain’s hand.

  “He certainly didn’t know about that. To think you wore that all the time, even as a human. It does make one wonder where your thoughts were.”

  For a moment, Cain had the uncomfortable feeling that the vampire was reading his soul, probing the recesses of his mind to discover his darkest secrets. He didn’t flinch, remaining perfectly still for the scrutiny. Let him look. It didn’t matter what thoughts he might have had as a human, he’d never given in. No one who’d died at his hand hadn’t deserved it. A flicker of memory brought Brea to his mind, but he shoved it away. No one had died who hadn’t deserved it.

  Finally, Kirill’s gaze lost its intensity. He smiled. “I do wish I could have seen Morte’s face when his newly sired vampire took his head not ten minutes after waking. It must have been quite a shock.”

  “Why do you care?” Cain blurted the question out before he could think better of it, but the prince didn’t seem to mind.

  “And then to be sent here,” Kirill continued. “Trapped on an island with your favorite breed of victim, knowing that you could be the victim yourself at any moment.”

  “Yes, you can see why I’m in a hurry to leave.”

  Kirill inclined his head. “Ah, yes, about that. Brea seems like a lovely girl, but she really is quite insistent about your return. I believe it would behoove us
all to settle this situation quickly. With that in mind, here’s how I see things. I require this gentleman’s help”—he gestured at the warden—“back in Dacia. In order for what I have heard would be quite drastic consequences to be avoided, someone I can trust must remain here to alert us if there should be an attempt to contact him.”

  Anger heated Cain’s veins, and he gritted his teeth. “I am not—”

  “You will be the new warden, and I will make it perfectly clear that any attempts to harm you will be punished—severely.”

  Cain scoffed. “The only thing that kept the warden alive was the threat of the island being burned to the sea. What will you threaten them with?”

  “I see no reason to change the consequences.” Kirill glanced behind at the woman still standing quietly with the demon. “Ivy?”

  The woman crossed her arms. “Innocents will need to be evacuated first.”

  Kirill pressed his lips together, then sighed. Cain could have sworn the vampire muttered something about dragons, but the vampire’s next sentence pushed all other thought from his mind.

  “Brea will handle the contract with the selkies, and together you two will keep this island under control until I have enough information to deal with it in a more permanent fashion. Once I’ve found replacements for you, you and Brea will be free to leave.”

  He paused and met Cain’s eyes. “I’ll have an official contract drawn up shortly. How do you find the terms?”

  “You want me to stay here…with Brea?”

  “Yes.”

  Hope flared inside Cain, so sudden that it almost hurt. “What if she won’t stay?”

  Kirill arched an eyebrow. “Had you seen the state the young lady was in when she…arrived, you would not need to ask that question. Suffice it to say that women—”

  The air beneath the gargoyle shimmered. Two women stepped out, Brea, clothed in what had to be a borrowed red dress that was just a little too snug in the arms, and a dark-haired woman Cain didn’t recognize. He didn’t care who she was, cared even less as Brea launched herself at him, clinging to him like creeping ivy.

  “I’ll kill you for that,” she whispered fiercely. “I’ll have you lashed to the front of my ship. How dare you send me away like that?”

  Cain stood there dumbly for a moment, too shocked to move. Brea was in his arms, threatening him. Threatening him in a way that rather suggested she…cared. His body recovered before his brain, wrapping his non-blade-bearing arm around Brea. “I had to keep you safe,” he mumbled finally.

  “I don’t want to be safe,” she hissed. She looked up at him, and tears shone in her eyes. “I want to be with you.”

  “There, you see?” Kirill shook his head and turned briskly to the warden. “Well now, we really should be going. The dawn approaches, and I would like to see you settled in for the day back in Dacia. We have a great deal of work ahead of us. Cain, Brea, I will return tomorrow with a formal contract and we can discuss the details.”

  The new arrival paused in greeting the demon and the golden woman, and crossed her arms. “Kirill, we are not leaving them here tonight. He has enemies here.” She glanced at Cain, then back at the prince. “A lot of them.”

  Kirill frowned. “My love, someone must remain behind in case an attempt is made to contact the warden.”

  “He can stay on my ship.”

  Everyone turned to look at Brea, including Cain. It was a good thing he didn’t need to breathe, because she would have taken his breath away with that one offer of trust. The demon behind him was grinning so much that Cain could practically feel it against his back. A happy sigh came from the woman, and the creak of a leather wing wrapping more tightly around her tickled Cain’s numb senses.

  “On the water?” Kirill looked at Cain. “You can stay on the water?”

  Cain tried twice to speak, then shrugged. “If the ship remains moored, yes. I have a high tolerance for the shore.”

  The glint returned to Kirill’s eyes. “Interesting. We will have much to discuss tomorrow night.”

  Cain should have argued. Should have told the prince what he thought of him, told him he had no intention of being the warden for this cursed isle. But the promise of a night with Brea, a night on her ship, her home… For that, he would agree to this.

  For now.

  Chapter 5

  “Join me.”

  Brea looked down at the main deck of her ship, watching Cain slowly turn his head up in her direction. He hadn’t noticed her standing mostly hidden behind the helm, studying him when he wasn’t looking. The full moon had passed, but there was still plenty of the divine sphere left to show her the sharp angles of his jaw, the ebony waves of his dark hair…and the blood coating his shirt.

  “You really should wear all black,” she noted, stepping around the helm and sweeping out an arm to renew her invitation for him to join her. Without waiting to see what he would do, she strolled to the banister and folded her arms on the solid wood, staring at the harbor and the bustling activity that was so uncharacteristic of this hour of the night.

  “Did you see who Kirill has brought here?”

  His voice sent a shiver down her spine, a not-at-all-unpleasant sensation that Brea didn’t think too hard on just yet. She couldn’t help the deep breath she drew when Cain settled beside her at the banister, mirroring her pose. She followed his gaze and stiffened, straightening her arms as she leaned a little farther out.

  “Is that…Sheriff Mac Tyre?”

  Cain nodded. “It is.

  Brea settled back against the railing, shaking her head. “I’d heard he’d gone mad.”

  “Easy to understand given the unhealthy obsession he had with Robin Hood.” Cain snorted. “Even I was never so crazy as to go after that fey.”

  “And why would you?” Brea asked. “I’ve never heard it said Robin Hood was a villain.”

  “No,” Cain agreed. “Not always a good man, but not a villain.” He slanted a glance at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “He is rather more like you. Robbing the rich.”

  “I rob the rich because they have more money,” Brea said dryly. “Don’t be painting me with prettier colors than I deserve.”

  “There are no colors in existence beautiful enough to do you justice.”

  The words were quiet, but sincere. Brea’s gaze locked on Cain, holding that smoldering stare for a few scant seconds before she had to look away. She waited for a flicker of the old fear, but the wretched emotion wouldn’t come, wouldn’t offer her the excuse she needed to back away from her plan. As she’d expected.

  “I knew if I ever saw you again, it would be impossible to escape a second time.”

  Cain went completely, utterly still. Brea folded her hands and stared at her entwined fingers hanging over the banister. The knot of emotion in her chest was easing, unwinding itself, and she didn’t rush it. She was done running. Whatever would be would be.

  “You’re a wild creature, Cain. Always have been. You’ve never pretended to be anything else, and I…I loved that about you. I let myself believe I was the exception to the rule, that the violence inside you would never touch me, could never touch me.”

  “Brea…”

  His voice was hoarse, pleading. For the thousandth time since she’d met him, Brea wondered at how vulnerable he always made himself when it came to her. A frightening man in so many ways, but he never hid his feelings, never pretended to be unemotional or uncaring. And wasn’t that what had led her into a false sense of security in the first place?

  She balked, suddenly unwilling to follow the path her mind and heart were fighting to lead her down, the path full of broken memories and emotions so sharp she wasn’t sure she’d survive them. She returned her attention to the land, and pointed at a pair of wolves trotting down the plank of the neighboring ship.

  “The sheriff has brought his wolves. His pack. Kirill thinks that they’ll be able to keep order on the island. He wants regular patrols.” She clasped her hands a li
ttle tighter, trying to ground herself, keep herself from rambling. “He’s charged the sheriff with conducting interviews with every prisoner on the island. He wants Mac Tyre to interview them, compare his personal observations with the reports the warden provided, and then make a recommendation on how to proceed on a case-by-case basis.”

  “I know. The prince has offered me the job of executing those deemed too dangerous to be left alive.”

  Brea looked at him, studied his face. The selkie council hadn’t mentioned that part when she’d spoken to them. She wondered if they knew.

  “Are you going to take that job?”

  “That would mean staying on the island,” he said softly. “Once the decision is made to execute a vampire, it must be carried out quickly. Else the vampire in question may decide he has nothing left to lose.”

  Cain looked at her then, and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were a deep forest green, so vivid that she could almost see shadows dancing in the emerald orbs, imagine there was life there, as if she were looking into another world.

  “Brea, I wish I could tell you that I would let you be. That I would stop seeking you out, let you walk away. But I can’t. If you leave me again, I will follow you. I will find a way to follow you.”

  Her throat went dry. Words clogged her throat, conflicting sentiments fighting to be the first out. Could she trust him again? Did she want to?

  A soft splashing sounded beside the ship, and then the rope ladder that lay draped over the bow pulled taut. The ladder that Brea used to get in and out of the water when she donned her seal skin at sea groaned as someone climbed up to the ship. A delicate hand appeared, followed by a slender face framed with a waterfall of light brown hair. Faline’s brown eyes appeared next, and she heaved herself over the side onto the boat.

  Brea and Cain both turned to meet her as she stood with her seal skin clutched to the front of her body. She clung to it not for modesty’s sake, but with the tenacity of someone who’d been reminded how easy it was to lose something precious. She took a step toward Brea, and tears shone in her eyes.