With no sense of my lesson’s duration, I mimicked my vampire mentor until I experienced the revelation that comes to us all, that moment when we realize the capacity of our venomized brain. Whether urban legend or not, I recall a neighborhood boy teasing me, saying that humans use ten percent of their brains but I only used four. His words were hurtful, if wholly inaccurate for a number of reasons, but I wonder what truth there is to the human brain’s capacity now that I’ve become a vampire. We wield our cognition with greater precision to be sure. Like a superhero discovering a new power, I was in awe of my newly acquired tongue.
“Hello, my name is Evelina,” I said. “I am pleased to meet you.”
Peter seemed unfazed, knowing it’d come that easy if I’d only let it. “It never ceases to amaze me how few vampires actually embrace our cognitive potential,” he said. “So many squander a perfectly good use of genius.”
When Vincent came to see me, Peter showed off my skill, speaking to both of us in Mandarin.
“Please,” Vincent said. “My ear is not attuned to the language yet. Italian still weighs heavily on my mind.” He looked at me when he spoke, but I couldn’t see the intended meaning.
Peter and Vincent conversed as they’d done when I first met him in the engine room. I listened to my mentor describe my recovery in detail, as if he’d witnessed it himself. He recounted the rips in my cheeks, the scratches along my arms and neck, and the welt on my stomach. Empress Cixi had attempted to gut me at one point, sending her talons across my solar plexus. I winced at the memory of the attack, though rage inspired the gesture, not fear.
Vincent examined me from afar, scowling as he attempted to assess the damage himself. “Show me your hands,” he said.
I obeyed and held them up. He came forward and looked into my eyes before taking my hands in his. When he touched me, the charge of electricity nearly brought me to my knees. Peter saw his effect on me, though my shaky insides were hidden from Vincent. My hands remained steady, even as he drew his palm down the length of my index finger. “They are long,” he said to himself. “They will do.”
I held my tongue, not wanting to break the rapture his touch induced. We were finally reconnected, as was once natural to us. I suppose my thoughts aroused me, for my fangs suddenly dropped. The pain of teething had already lessened, and I barely noticed the gesture, but Vincent caught it, and the corners of his mouth rose. He didn’t smile, but his scowl softened. “They have a mind of their own,” he said, almost to himself.
He let my hands go, but they hung in midair, refusing to relinquish his touch. “I have selected Huitzilli,” he said to Peter. “He will draw it out of her.”
“Draw what out?” I asked.
Vincent looked at me and offered me the sincerest smile, one I’d not seen in ages. “Your inner warrior, Evelina.”
“We haven’t covered that yet,” Peter said. “We’ve been going over the basics, but I think you’re absolutely right. She’s ready for the Hummingbird. There’s still the matter of her hands, of course, but if any vampire can get them to come out, it’s him.”
I couldn’t begin to guess what they referred to since the transformation they spoke of only came later, and what a surprise it was.
When Vincent made for the door, I rushed to stop him. Peter caught my arm and held me in place. “Don’t,” he said in Mandarin. “You must let him go, Evelina.”
Vincent had his back to us, but before he reached for the door, he paused for the briefest moment, as though my muted plea held him on the cusp of a precipice. His body swayed forward and back, as he contemplated facing me again. The anticipation of those few seconds stoked the flames in my belly, and rage simmered inside me.
“Obey Peter,” Vincent said without turning. “And study the Hummingbird.” With that, he left the cabin and went far enough away for me to lose his signal. His abandonment incited my rage and I smashed my fist into the small mirror that hung on the bulkhead.
Peter laughed. “It’s about time,” he said. “Don’t keep that inside. You need to unleash it or it’ll stifle you.” My anger was like stored energy, whose pressure built up until it had to be released with a good bout of violence. “Save the rest for Huitzilli,” he said. “He’ll want to see that.”
***
Later — I have chosen her trainer. After seeing the abuse she suffered at the hands of her maker, I wanted to scalp the Empress, strip the skin from her body and set her on a pyre. But I have stifled my anger. I must continue to play my part, and keep Evelina safe. I have not rallied enough supporters yet, and if I were to incite a mutiny, I would surely lose the child. Peter has been forewarned and knows I expect him to keep a better watch on the novice, even if he is required to break his vows to do so. Like when fog clears from the moors and reveals the rich green grass on the knoll, I have seen what lies beneath my haze. I must ready Evelina as quickly as I can and leave with her and the child.
I sought out the Hummingbird, finding him a most favorable ally. He was in the ring, whaling on a vampire who had attempted to take his name. The ritual game amongst the crew is predictable. The weaker fight the stronger to mark them with the reputation they sorely lack. But it often ends badly for the weaker one. I did not think the female in the ring would walk away unscathed—and she didn’t, though the Toltec spared her. When he finally grabbed her by the hair and raised her up off the deck with him, he smashed her shins with the edge of his foot, breaking the skin and shattering the bones beneath. The female hissed at her opponent, but he laughed and threw her on the deck. She lay there until another carried her out, probably to the den for the drink.
Zhi had told me the Empress favored Huitzilli and I hoped to use that to my advantage. I let the Toltec enjoy his victory and then followed him out of the ring, back to his compartment. Zhi said he refused to take residence in a cabin near the Empress, despite her desire to have him close. When he reached the empty passageway at the rear of steerage, he turned to greet me.
“I have been waiting for you, ancient one,” he said.
From that moment, I knew the Toltec was more loyal to himself than his Empress. I explained what I wanted from him, what I needed Evelina to learn and what I thought she could do if the right vampire showed her.
“Why not you?” he said. “You are a fiercer warrior than I, swift-footed Myrmidon.”
“I cannot train the novice,” I said.
He roared with a belly laugh that was contagious. “The Shorn Ones are the greatest trainers. I have trained many warriors in my lifetime,” he said. “I will hone her temper.”
“She has much to learn,” I said. “Her skills are wanting and I am concerned with her talons.”
“Well, ancient one,” he said. “They can’t be rushed, but there are things we can do to encourage the advent of her weapons.”
“Her anger should serve her,” I said. “She is petulant and unripe, but gifted nonetheless.”
“How can she not be?” He leaned forward and put his hand on my shoulder. “Perhaps if I do this for you,” he said, “you will do something for me?”
I waited for his request.
“Let me sift through your scenes of war,” he said. “The battles you’ve seen must be filled with color—and blood.” He laughed deeply again.
“I will repay you for this favor,” I said. “Of that you must not doubt.”
“She is brave,” he said. “This little one?”
“You will see just how brave she can be,” I said.
“You knew her before, then,” he said. I was not surprised he knew nothing of our arrival on the ship. Huitzilli is a loner, despite his favor with the Empress. He pays little attention to the affairs around him. “The novice is yours?”
“She belongs to the Empress,” I said. “Perhaps you can persuade her that it would be to her advantage if her progeny trained with the great Hummingbird.”
He knew what I asked, but did not go in for flattery. I realized I had overplayed my hand.
&nbs
p; “I won’t cater to the queen,” he said. “She is my putty, I will never be hers.”
He grunted and ran his hand across his neck like he was coaxing down a chunk of anger. I could not have picked a better ally, for when I realized just how much he despised the Empress, I felt I had found a kindred spirit. “I want Evelina to learn from the best,” I said. “And that is you, do you not agree?”
He smiled and touched my shoulder again. “For you, ancient one,” he said. “She will get the best.”
I promised to send her to him when she had fully healed, but he insisted she begin immediately, and so I delivered the message to Peter when I went to check on Evelina.
It pained me to see her, Byron, though her injuries had almost healed. While Peter described the incident in detail, she stood as still as stone, her stoic expression making it seem as though she had checked out. Her frequency was a dull hum, but I recognized it as though her mind had always sent out the waves of sound. I had been too preoccupied with tasting her blood to notice before.
“Show me your hands,” I said to her, wanting to see why the Empress’s attack had not provoked her talons. When I took her hands in mine to study them, I wondered if she felt the connection. She was reserved, unaware of the destiny now forced on her. Her body showed no signs that she was awake to our bond, even when I stroked the length of her hand, admiring her long fingers. But when I said, “They will do,” her fangs dropped. I smiled inwardly. “They have a mind of their own,” I said.
I turned to Peter and told him who I had selected for her training. He knew the Toltec, of course, and agreed the warrior would draw her out.
When I made to leave, she finally gave me the sign I sought. Peter stopped her where she stood, but I heard her plea. She spoke it into my mind, Byron, just as you had always done. Please don’t go Vincent. Please, she said. Her plea made me falter but I recovered, telling her to obey Peter and admire the Hummingbird before slipping out the door.
On my way back to the cabin, the strangest vampire approached me.
“L’ancien,” she said. “Je veux parler avec toi.” Her accent was West African, and her manner wild, despite her Chinese dress.
“Who are you?” I asked in French.
“I am Mindiss,” she said. “I am the daughter of Takhar and hold the ear of Roog. I am the Fangool who keeps the Sine River and is intercessor for the saints. I am come to give you this message.”
I could not tie her to any other I had met, nor could I determine her venomline. Her frequency was offensive and she seemed otherworldly in a way. I did not doubt she was something more than human when she was turned.
“Who sends this message?” I asked.
“Kopé Tiatie Cac,” she said. “The blood vendor who divvies out the plagues. Invisible to all things, he seeps through the ground to dole out death. The novitiate is his.”
I could not contain my rage and gripped her by the neck, lifting her off the deck. Her sepia eyes, like those of a viper, grew wide as she clutched at my hands. “I am the messenger,” she said through grit teeth.
Your cool head prevailed, Byron, and I released the vampire. She backed away, repeating she was just the messenger. I warned her not to threaten the Empress’s progeny and she said, “It is she who wants her destroyed most of all.”
I must renew my effort to keep Evelina safe, even if that means destroying her maker. But she must also evolve and develop the skills she needs to survive the new world. She has barely discovered her talents and cannot begin to use them to her advantage. I must supervise her training, I must be certain she is in good hands. I must keep her safe, Byron. With that, you cannot argue. It is you who placed her in my care, and it is a commitment I will not relinquish.
20 December. — I have seen her train, and she is as formidable as expected at this early stage. Determined to learn, diligent enough to fight through the worst, she rose to the Toltec’s first challenge, getting herself up from under his weight. She must have been exhausted and starved by the end of it, but when he forced her to spar with him, she did not back down. Though she eventually collapsed, her tenacity is admirable. Still no talons, however. I cannot say why. Yours came with such ease, Byron. You were using them within hours of your awakening. I have asked Huitzilli to push her; he seems bent on training her as he sees fit, though. I will not stand in his way, but invent my own strategy for coaxing out her weapons.
All of this is not as important as the incident that took place only moments ago. She came to me, sought me out, using our connection. She followed the signal I sent out, as I lay on my berth testing her will. I wanted to see if she could hear my call, obey me if I sent for her. She did not disappoint me and showed up at my door within moments of my sending out my frequency. I awaited her, ready for the second test. When she entered without permission and sat down on the berth next to me, I knew I had her.
She said my name as she had once said it in the villa on the outskirts of Portero.
Evelina, I called back. It took all I had to rise above the harmony of our frequencies and speak into her mind. The two sparrows were in perfect sync, calling back and forth to one another, as their riffs looped in our minds. I heard hers and I know she heard mine. Evelina, I said again.
“I’m here,” she said aloud.
Evelina, you must go.
She would not move from my side, but gripped my hand more tightly.
Evelina, you must go, I repeated.
She hissed and growled, and I had to restrain my own fangs.
Empress Cixi cannot find you here, I said. You must leave me.
I had not planned on giving her the warning but it came up as though it was the most necessary message I had to relay. There is truth to it, Byron. We cannot reveal our connection to the Empress. I have come to realize that it is far better for Cixi to think I have renounced the girl, and see no other way of convincing her than by making Evelina believe it too.
She fought me on it, Byron. She bared her spirit then and there, unabashedly and willingly, when she said, “She can’t keep me from you. I’m still yours.”
I wanted to tell her she was, but I could not. I thought of you, Byron. When she ran her hand down the length of my arm, she made me recall my commitment to you, my first beloved. Though I am torn, I will bear the weight of both burdens—the admiration I still carry for you and our life together, and the love I now bear for the counterpart I have been given. Byron must forgive me, I told her as she made for the door. She could not know what I meant, if she even understood it was not said for her benefit.
I must see the Empress again—
***
Entry 4
They call him the Hummingbird for his agility, but he’s actually a twelve hundred year old Toltec warrior who’s been a vampire since the rise of the Aztec empire. Huitzilli is wild, and almost always starved for blood. The Empress keeps him well fed, in exchange for his protection. He’s not her bodyguard, per se, but they have a history and my maker holds him in high regard, if not with affection.
“All you need to know is that he belonged to the most prestigious warrior class in Mesoamerica—the Shorn Ones,” Peter said.
I didn’t ask him what a shorn one was, but he answered my question with a gesture, telling me I was about to find out. He brought me to Huitzilli’s cabin, which was down in steerage, near the ring. Peter didn’t knock on the warrior’s door, but entered as if he was expecting us. Huitzilli wasn’t alone, but was in the midst of gorging on a stalky woman with breasts the size of melons, which were sitting overtop her dress and supported by the vampire’s groping hand. A much older man also clung to him, his legs wrapped around the giant mass of a vampire. The two humans looked like snakes entwined about the trunk of a redwood. Huitzilli’s body was lean, but not compared to theirs.
“Ah, my novice,” he said, throwing the humans off him like discarded candy wrappers. “Come. Eat.”
Despite the enticing smell of the blood and the vibrant colors of the humans, I wasn�
��t interested in feeding on his second helpings. Luckily Peter read my mind, refusing for me and thanking the Hummingbird for his generous offer. Huitzilli would have intimidated me if I’d thought I’d angered him—I should pause here to describe his features, for they’re remarkable. His frame is no bigger than mine but he’s muscular, and wears his head shaved, except for one long braid over his left ear. His shorn head is colored, half blue and half red, and at first I thought it was paint, but soon realized it’s ink. He also has the head of a jaguar tattooed on his back. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and didn’t put one on either, but wore several gold chains with Aztec medallions, and a pendant with an animal fang. His jewelry doesn’t dampen his ferocity, or make him seem any less capable of stomping out anything in his way. And his sensuality is arresting. My flesh tingled when I laid eyes on him, my venom curdling in my veins—I was libidinally aroused for the first time since my awakening. His frequency subdued me—it’s like the hypnotic purr of a wild cat.
Huitzilli pushed Peter aside, who stood slightly in front of me, and came right up to me, putting his forehead against mine. He was slightly taller than me, but leaned down to make the connection. I could smell the fresh blood on his breath. “You are mine, then,” he said. “Aren’t you?”
I lost my ability to speak, not realizing his contact abducted my sense of reason. His Aztec magic was potent. He jelled my thoughts and wrangled them, placing them into a cauldron to sift through at will. My newly acquired intellectual prowess had turned to mush, and I even forgot how to speak Mandarin. Huitzilli chuckled with a deep roar that reminded me of another.
“Tepin,” he said. “I’ll call you novice no more. Tepin is your name.” The moniker was meant as a term of endearment, and Peter told me later that the word is Nahuatl for “little one.” I’ll admit the impression Huitzilli left on me was far more effective than the one I’d given him.
When he pulled his forehead from mine, he bared his subtle fangs and then drew his thumb across my lips. My fangs pierced the inside of my mouth, drawn out by his soft touch. “Let’s waste no time,” he said. “The ring awaits.” He addressed me in Italian, and though my skill for Mandarin returned the moment he released me from his mind trap, I wondered if there wasn’t a consistent mode of parley on the ship, despite the babel of vampire tongues.
The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier Trilogy (Books 1, 2, 3) Page 30