by Kacey Ezell
It is a wonder the Leeuwin sails as loftily as it does, Matthias thought.
Trinkets from foreign lands, little pieces of sculpture, and paintings sat in cabinets along one wall, with some books tucked away in stacks on shelves. A small red ceramic dish of foreign coins sat on the low table by the window, flanked by two potted plants in full greenery.
A four-poster bed heaped with rumpled silk and cotton bedding occupied one quarter of the room. Black silk drapes hung, haphazardly tied back. Matthias sat down on the bed, savoring the feel of the cool silk on his hands, the warmth of the room, the comfort in the heaps of pillows.
“We can’t stay here; the day crew will be noisy while repairing the Leeuwin. Though you look awfully tempting sitting there. Come with me and remind me next time to throw you onto that bed.” De Graaf smiled and licked his lips. “So very tempting to take you with us—throw you in the brig and sail you away to sunny shores, where you can bask in the day, not another cold, miserable winter in Marinport.”
“All my clients talk of wonders and luxuries and promises. I know you well. Stop promising things you have no desire to provide. You know I cannot leave,” Matthias replied.
“Can’t and won’t. Something bothering you?” Johannes asked.
“Nothing at all. I’m just cold. I need a good meal and a warm bed.” Matthias yawned. “I didn’t mean to be short with you.” A return to the Sources’ cold subsistence housing, not quite barracks, not quite rooming house, filled Matthias with dread. The winds howled through the spaces, and ocean storms lashed the building in winter, so Matthias and the others would spend days huddled under the dripping roof, trying to keep the fires lit. Still, the barracks was a better home than the one he’d grown up in, where the winds didn’t blow, and the abundant warmth was met with cold looks.
* * *
Johannes waited inside the room at the cozy brick inn as Matthias set a roaring fire in the fireplace and lit the lanterns. Johannes, by the nature of his immortality, couldn’t handle flame. The fire cast a warm glow in the room and began to drive out the chill.
“I’m hungry, mortal man. Come here, I missed you. I wish you’d tell me why you won’t leave with us.” He beckoned to Matthias. “I’ll feed, and you can sleep and dream beautiful, blissful dreams.”
Matthias didn’t answer Johannes’ question, but walked over and stood stock still before his client. Johannes worked the buttons on Matthias’ shirt collar, lifting the shirt off the man’s shoulders and leaving it draped on a chair.
“I don’t wish to ruin your shirt.” Johannes traced the lines on Matthias’ skin with a light touch, following the marks left by some kind of punishment, marks of violence and fury. Matthias flinched and moved Johannes’ hands away from the scars.
“I wish you’d tell me,” the vampire captain whispered as he touched the marks.
“I don’t want to talk about it. If you turn someone, do their scars remain? Would your blood heal it if I drank some, if I turned?” Matthias asked quietly.
“Rarely. I’ll make some inquiries for you. I have colleagues who can make the memory of the scars melt away. Some may know how to heal the physical marks. Come, you seem more troubled than your usual melancholic self. Let me feed, then we’ll find some wine and a good meal for you. There’s no reason to stay in this city, is there? Let me help,” Johannes pled, as if Matthias hadn’t heard the first time. They’d had the same conversation every time the captain docked, and every time Matthias refused his offer, with no explanation as to why. It was maddening for one who cared as Johannes did.
Matthias shrugged. “Most days it seems like there’s nothing. Maybe this time.”
Matthias offered no resistance as Johannes pulled him into a familiar embrace. Johannes drew in a deep breath, breathing in Matthias’ scent of smoke and sea and blood. “I’ll be quick,” he whispered, searching out the pulse of life in his Source’s neck and biting down.
Matthias gasped and rose up on his toes, arching his back as the sharp pain shot through. Johannes held his Source steady, his teeth sunk into Matthias’ throat.
“Ah! Oh, my gods. Oh, gods. Oh! Don’t stop. Take all you like.” Matthias’ pain melted away as the bite Bliss surged in his veins.
Johannes drank slow mouthfuls of blood, tasting of cheap rum and a longing, a sadness that lent a smoky taste to the mortal man’s essence. The vampire had detailed the taste of blood to Matthias on past liaisons, as if describing a fine wine. Johannes broke the bite after a long, satiating feeding and pulled away from Matthias’ neck.
Matthias looked over at de Graaf with eyes gone smoky with Bliss. Johannes’ lips were now vividly red, his skin flushed pink from Matthias’ blood.
Matthias stood there shirtless, bleeding, and aroused as tears stung and filled his eyes. Bliss or despair, he couldn’t say. Johannes didn’t press further, and only pulled Matthias to the bed to rest after the deep drink.
* * *
Matthias woke alone in the early hours of the morning. A tray of food sat on the side table, next to a note and an envelope of money.
Have a good meal, and buy some winter clothes. See me again in three nights. —de Graaf.
Matthias took the money and the food. Remy would never permit him to leave the city. Matthias could never go home, but how long would it take for Remy to notice Matthias had sailed away? He hadn’t seen his father in months—a year? Matthias couldn’t recall. Maybe it was time to leave Marinport. What was the worst Remy would do? Rage from the comfort of the Elidon Mansion, curse his only son’s name in the pubs?
I could be a thousand miles away, and never know, and be far from his reach.
* * * * *
Chapter 2
Two nights later, Johannes felt much more revitalized. More of Matthias’ blood and copious amounts of wine had done wonders. He smoothed his hands over his lapels, liking the silky feel of the rich fabric. Tonight, he would venture out into the city. Long voyages made him hunger for cultural diversions. It wasn’t that he minded the sometimes-rough company of his crew…but an educated man enjoyed many types of entertainment.
The darkened streets felt like home, as much as any place where the Leeuwin cast her lines. His Immortal vision easily penetrated the gloom, which further confirmed the good Matthias’ blood had done. Johannes’ injuries were almost completely healed, and a familiar sense of strength had returned to his body. So much so, in fact, that he felt a sharp stab of pleasure at the way his muscles moved in the night. Like a hunting cat, he stalked through the darkness, causing lesser predators to quickly look elsewhere for their prey.
Captain de Graaf had a destination in mind, a half-hour’s walk from the inn. It would’ve been quicker to hire a carriage, but his heady joy at being healed kept him from doing so. Humanity ebbed and flowed around him. Creaking cartwheels mingled with good-natured insults shouted between friends. From somewhere the scent of fried meat clung to the air, mixing with the fishy harbor scents and the tang of so many human bodies. The scents weren’t particularly unpleasant, just strong to Johannes’ heightened senses. But it was all part and parcel of the Marinport experience, right alongside the cobblestone streets and winding canals. The night had settled in, and the streets of narrow, gable-roofed row houses stood with curtains drawn and lanterns aglow inside.
He arrived at the City Performance House. Patrons streamed into the white marble and brownstone building. The city’s economic elite had dressed in their finery and walked in, chatting arm in arm with one another. Johannes remained alone and blended into the crowd of mortals as they pressed forward into the hall for the evening’s entertainment.
Inside the ornate gray and white tiled lobby, Johannes paid for a glass of red wine and stood back along a wall. A tall potted shrub allowed him to unobtrusively watch the city’s nobility gossiping. The social event was a pleasant change from the constant sway of the ship and the rationed blood while underway. In truth, he enjoyed spending quiet hours in his cabin. He would often read, or chart
courses, and he could often be found pitching in with the hard labor performed by the rest of the crew as they sailed.
But tonight, de Graaf was alone. This was a well-earned indulgence, and he savored it. He was sure the crew were also enjoying their time ashore. They’d scattered from the docks as soon as the cargo was offloaded.
Suddenly the crowd shifted, and he spotted it from across the room: a glowing emerald, sapphire, and gold necklace on the neck of a dark-haired woman. Her wavy hair was pinned up with gold combs, which set off the warm tone of her skin. A dark bronze silk dress hugged the lines of her body, green and gold embroidery tracing loops and whorls and leaves in the fabric. That necklace. He watched as she sipped her drink, her ruby lips grinning as someone said something amusing.
“Sir, you’re staring. Do I know you?”
Johannes blinked, and there she stood before him, her bright sea-green eyes staring right back at him, challenging him.
“Pardon?”
“Sir, it’s rude to stare,” she asserted again. She showed no fear at all.
Johannes bowed. “My apologies, miss. I was admiring the necklace. I meant no disrespect. I’m Captain de Graaf, of the Leeuwin.”
The woman stepped back just a bit. “A NightShip. It’s rare for your crew to be out in the city, is it not?”
Johannes nodded. “We’re in for repairs. I thought I’d partake of the culture on offer in the city. I rarely get the chance as often as I’d like. Pleased to meet you—” He held out his gloved hand, leather covering healing skin.
“Lady Lucia Delsarte,” she replied with a slight bow. “You’re not going to steal my necklace, are you? I’m trained in self-defense. My father insisted I learn to incapacitate a thief. You seem nice, but fair warning.”
Johannes chuckled. “No, I’m no thief. I—my crew delivered the necklace two days ago. My ship is full of holes because of that necklace. I can’t be terribly upset, I suppose. Seeing it worn so beautifully almost makes it worth the battle.”
Lucia glanced down at the necklace, concern drawing her brows together. “My apologies, sir. I’m sure my father will cover the damages. He purchased this as a gift for me. I hope your crew are well.”
“My crew and I are fine. I cannot say the same for the pirates who beset us, foolish-minded and greed-driven as they were. I trust your father will make good on repairs. I work with him regularly in his shipping concern. Good evening, Lady Lucia. It’s lovely to finally meet you. Your father speaks so fondly of you, and this is?” De Graaf gestured to Lucia’s chaperone as she approached.
“Pardon me, this is my cousin Amelia.” Lucia gestured to the Sister on her left.
“Good evening, Sister.” Johannes nodded in kind to the chaperone in her Eventide blue and yellow robes.
“Good evening, sir. You’re one of the Immortals,” Amelia replied, a little cold. Her tone said clearly that she was, at best, uncomfortable with the situation. Lucia put her arm around the Sister in a gesture of protection and comfort.
“Yes, Sister.” Johannes moved a few inches away from Amelia, sensing her obvious discomfort. “I am indeed Immortal. I’ve been the captain of the Leeuwin for over a century, with seven crew, and no losses.” De Graaf bowed in deference and kept his distance from the Sister.
“Yes, but you’re still vampiric,” she said softly. Her brow creased, and her voice shook. His pleasing manners obviously didn’t detract from this troubling fact for her. “We appreciate the delivery of Lucia’s gift, sir, but I think it’s best we move along now. The musicians will be starting shortly. Enjoy the performance.”
Johannes nodded. “Absolutely, Sister. Have a wonderful evening. It was a pleasure meeting you both.”
Johannes walked away into the milling crowd as they poured into the theatre. He paused a moment to watch Lucia, flanked by her family, as they walked into the other doors on the opposite side of the theatre. Lucia glanced his way, and her hand reached to her chest. Her fingers skipped over the faceted stones of the draped necklace, and she smiled a smile he was sure he’d see in his dreams at daybreak.
The performance was a well-rehearsed quartet, a welcome diversion from his aching arm and the concerns of captaincy. The musicians filled the performance hall with vibrant, rich music, and the patrons responded with delighted, enthusiastic applause. At intermission, he returned to the lobby and spotted Lucia talking, her back turned to him. He stayed out of sight of Amelia’s sharp eye and watched the crowd as the drink left a comfortable burn from the liquor on his lips.
The crowd moved, shifted, and closed in around Lucia. As Johannes watched, a hand snaked out, reaching for the clasp at the back of Lucia’s slender neck.
In a few strides quicker than human eyes could see, Johannes sidled up to the pickpocket. The man’s face was shielded by collar and coat.
“I highly recommend you keep your hands to yourself, sir.” De Graaf grabbed the pickpocket’s wrist, bending it back just enough for the thief to rise on tiptoes, whimpering in pain. Johannes turned the man to face him. Matthias. The man stepped away, held fast by de Graaf, both saying nothing as if the two men had never met before.
Lucia turned around at the sound of Johannes’ smooth tenor voice.
“Seems others want that trinket, too.” De Graaf bowed and stepped back without letting go of the pickpocket Source. He gestured for one of the guardsmen and handed the man off. Then he quickly took his leave of Lucia before sparking her chaperone’s displeasure once again. As Johannes stepped away, his Immortal ears caught the edge of her family’s whispered warnings.
“Lucia, he’s Immortal. You can’t be seen Consorting with an Immortal in public; it’s unseemly for a mortal lady. Come along now. Put your wrap on; it’s chilly in here.”
“I’m fine, Mother. He was being a gentleman.” Lucia looked across to Johannes and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
Amelia cast another wary glance his way as she spoke to Lucia. She pitched her words lower so Johannes couldn’t hear them. Just as well; the Sister’s look said all he needed to know. Lucia was a noblewoman, and it was clear an Immortal shouldn’t be seen in her company. Not for his sake, but her chaperones were surely charged with keeping her from any hint of scandal.
* * *
On the walk back to the inn, Johannes stopped by the dock to check on his ship. Crews worked, sanding the scorch marks, fitting new panels to the hull, replacing the sails. The dockmaster spotted De Graaf and walked up to the captain as he watched the workers.
“Duke Delsarte refused to sign for the repairs, Captain. He was by about an hour ago. The Leeuwin will be ready to sail in a week, perhaps ten days. We’ll expect some sort of payment before departure.” The dock manager held out the parchment listing the repair expenses, a considerable sum. At the bottom there was no signature and no seal; the debt was unsettled. Captain de Graaf sighed and handed the paper back to the dock manager.
“I’ll have it resolved shortly. I apologize for the delay.”
Annoyed but not entirely surprised, Johannes turned to the road and headed for the inn. Lingering around the dockyard entrance, a few mortal men and women in simple dresses and suits scanned for Immortal and mortal crew who might be in want of their services. Matthias was nowhere to be seen. The constables hadn’t seen fit to release him, apparently. De Graaf contemplated going to the station to retrieve Matthias but thought better of it. Matthias could handle himself. A night in a cell would do him good; a wool blanket and a meal, then he’d be released in the morning, having stolen nothing. For what reason would the mortal man try to steal a necklace in full view? De Graaf made a mental note to ask his Source about the attempted theft.
In the meantime, de Graaf’s hunger wasn’t going to be sated by an irrational sense of pickiness, and he gestured at the waiting Sources to hear their pitch.
“Sir! You must be famished. Three gold for blood. Five for blood and body,” one of them called to Johannes. Others shouted out offers, bidding fewer coins, offering more indul
gences.
Johannes looked over the mortals and considered his options. The hunger curled in his belly, never fully quiet. “You, Lisette, the one in the blue dress. Just blood.” He held out the three coins in his palm to the woman.
“Certainly, sir, at your service.” The blonde woman’s boots clicked along the cobbles to Johannes’ side.
“Good evening, Lisette. I have a room a short walk from here. Hurry. I only wish to feed and rest.” He put his arm around his hired Consort and walked away from the docks. Lisette slipped her arm around his waist and kept a lively pace, happy for the hire.
“Matthias never returned to the docks tonight. You didn’t throw him in the canals, did you? You don’t look the sort to do that. I hope he’s all right,” Lisette chatted as they walked to the inn.
“He was arrested for pickpocketing. He’ll be back on the docks shortly,” de Graaf replied curtly. Lisette, it seemed, knew her trade. She recognized his reticence and said nothing more for the remainder of the evening.
Johannes slept soundly after sending Lisette away at daybreak. The woman’s mortal blood coursed in his veins, healing his injuries further. He dreamed of the battle as a string quartet replayed in his mind. He danced with Lucia Delsarte on the deck of the ship under a dark blue night sky, and the stars, so silver and white. She wore a gown of black, and that necklace, the harbinger of disaster. A dance of the sweetest kind, bound to remain only in dreams.
* * * * *
Chapter 3
Lucia’s thoughts wandered as the quartet played. She watched with vague interest as her mother and Amelia looked on, rapt with the performance. Lucia vastly preferred theatre to sedate chamber music and struggled as she stifled a yawn. She glanced around the candle-lit performance hall and spotted Captain de Graaf a few rows ahead of her, to her right. Handsome, mannered, mysterious. Lucia knew her father dealt with the NightShips; she’d sailed on a few as a child on family holiday but had never met one of the night-dwelling crew. She’d seen them in passing on sailings, moving down the darkened halls, steering the ships aloft onward in the night.