The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier Trilogy (Books 1, 2, 3)

by K. P. Ambroziak

  I followed Huitzilli and Peter through the passageway to the ring. It was empty since matches didn’t begin until sundown—one of the only ways I knew the time of day. I’d lost track of the hours, and couldn’t possibly know how long it’d been since I was there last, aiding the lanky vampire to defeat his bearish competitor. Steerage was different when the ring was empty, the energy was dead and the vessel felt like a ghost ship. I wondered where all the vampires had gone, and Peter whispered, “They’re collecting the art,” though I didn’t know what that meant.

  “Tepin,” Huitzilli said. “Lie down.”

  I learned firsthand why he was named the Hummingbird. If his skills in the ring were to emulate any species, it would be the hoverer. Huitzilli was able to levitate, for lack of a better term. When the great Toltec warrior became a vampire, he was gifted with the will to defy gravity, and like a helicopter, he could hover in midair, keeping his body up in a manner that broke the laws of aerodynamics. Nobody knew his secret, though many have tried to uncover his magic. Despite his freakish ability, he is also skilled in offensive techniques that are useful to a novice, which is why Vincent chose him to head up my tactical training. The great Toltec warrior, a member of the Shorn Ones, would school me in body movement and teach me how to survive the ring.

  I obeyed Huitzilli and dropped to the deck, lying on my back.

  The warrior laughed. “On your stomach,” he said.

  I turned over and before I could straighten myself out, he launched his fist into my lower spine, pinning me down. He laughed again and said, “Now get up.”

  I tried to lift my body, but it was impossible against the Hummingbird’s force, as he continued to press down with his entire weight. “Get up, Tepin,” he said again. I obeyed, sliding my arms beneath me to try to prop my chest up off the deck. He pushed down harder, almost boring a hole through my lower spine. “Up,” he said a third time. I renewed my effort, this time placing my hands down flat on the deck and trying to snap my shoulders back for momentum. He laughed again, which relieved the tension in his fist, and I renewed my effort to gain some ground. My body was bent in half, as I curved my spine backward to peel my chest off the deck. “Good, Tepin,” he said, though he slammed his other fist into the middle of my back. “But not good enough.”

  I don’t know how long he had me pinned, but Peter came and went, and at one point a donor came in to feed Huitzilli, though I went hungry. Fresh and nourished when we’d started, I soon felt my force wane.

  I can’t say what finally brought my willpower to a head and got me off the deck—if it was something outside of me, or that deep-seated anger raging in my belly. As Huitzilli’s weight continued to crush me, I decided to stop resisting, and though I was ordered to get up, I released the tension from my body and let myself melt into the soiled deck. This was the trick, this was how I got myself up. As the weight bearing down on me increased, my own mass grew lighter, and like a sheet of paper pulled out from beneath a rock, I slid my body sideways until I’d freed myself from the fist. But that wasn’t the end of it, for my body actually rose up off the deck with my lightness of being. I defied gravity for a brief moment, just like Huitzilli, until I realized I was floating and came crashing down onto the deck again.

  “Excellent, Tepin,” he said. “You only took half the time I anticipated. You’re Xing Fu’s progeny after all. Now, come, show me something greater.”

  Huitzilli made me face him and asked me to hold my arms behind my back. I obeyed and watched him eagerly, as I awaited my next order. But he surprised me and leaned in, placing his forehead on mine again, though this time he didn’t steal my thoughts. I’d worn my hair down for as long as I could remember, but Huitzilli reached for my mane, grabbing a thick mess of hair in his hand, and then fastened it up into a high ponytail on my head. He tied it with a ribbon, stringing the silk down through the strands and braiding it with my ponytail. When he reached the bottom, he used the excess ribbon to bind my wrists, bringing my hands shackled together. When he’d finished, which was almost instantly, he stood back and admired me. I couldn’t move my hands, and my head was pulled back to expose my neck, which meant I had to turn sideways to see him. “Good,” he said. “Much better.”

  This is when his demeanor shifted and the sensual vampire with whom I’d felt safe changed into a wild thing. The sound of his purr had tricked my senses, making me oblivious to all else, but when the Hummingbird showed his true nature, I banished his signal from my headspace to concentrate.

  Huitzilli slapped me first, and then swiped his talons down the side of my face. He smiled and laughed, urging me to defend myself. I raised a leg to kick him, but he easily avoided me and shoved his fist into my gut. I tossed my hip to the side, trying to dodge him, but only shifted from my spot and almost lost my balance. Huitzilli used my weakness against me, and pushed me to the deck. Not giving up, I struggled to lift my body. Hungry and losing energy, I weighed more than ever and without my hands, it was difficult to stand. Huitzilli made high-pitched vocal sounds, wild calls, and soon the mezzanine overlooking the ring was crowded with vampires. The space filled with the jeers of bloodlust, as the troop chanted for Huitzilli to finish the novice. I scanned the deck for Peter, but he was nowhere in sight, and I couldn’t hear anything but the cacophony of frequencies and Huitzilli’s war cry.

  I wouldn’t let humiliation get the better of me and attempted to thrust my body up by rolling over on my back and rocking myself to a standing position. Huitzilli took advantage and jumped on my stomach with both feet. The vampires hissed and whistled, as the warrior pounced a second time. I was enraged more than defeated, and could feel the bile rise up within me.

  “That’s it, Tepin,” he said. “Come for me.”

  The warrior baited me with his condescension, but I couldn’t gain the advantage. The vampire audience screeched, as their voices outmatched their frequencies. The chaos of sound got the better of me, as I struggled to get onto my feet again. I tried to remember how I’d released the tension in my body to slip out of his original pin, but I couldn’t. My mind was a haze of confusion. I was starved and hard as I tried to break my hands free, the tighter the ribbon seemed to get. I hadn’t thought about the vulnerability of my neck, until I heard the vampires’ calls.

  “Finish her,” they cried. “Behead the novice.” The chants arose in multiple languages, as the vicious crew unanimously cheered for my demise.

  “Fight, Tepin,” Huitzilli said. “If you can’t fight, I must finish you. The rules of the ring are clear.”

  I wondered when my training had become a ritual battle to the death. Huitzilli danced around me, taking shots with his talons and feet and even his elbows. He fluttered midair and kicked me in the head twice before I fell again. As I lay on the planks, feeling the weight of my body, I made my best effort to melt into the deck. I didn’t attempt to get up, fearful he’d finish me with a slice of his talons. I started to see double, and colors bled, as everything turned black and white, even Huitzilli’s head ink dissolved to shades of gray. I couldn’t control the barrage of auditory chaos, and the jeers of the crowd consumed me.

  “Fight,” Huitzilli said. “Get up, Tepin.”

  I couldn’t get up. I’d lost the ability to stand, let alone fight. I no longer felt my anger consume me, but succumbed to the rush of fear that came with the sight of his iron fangs. Huitzilli smiled, as he swooped down beside me with an open mouth to dig his fangs into my neck and rip the jugular from my throat. I shut my eyes, as my body released all the tension it had stored since my awakening. The darkness was a welcomed sight, but the silence satisfied me even more.

  …

  I woke alone on my berth in my compartment. I didn’t remember the ring until I looked at my hands and witnessed the welts his ribbon had given me. I was weak, barely able to get up, and closed my eyes again to let the dizziness pass. I didn’t hear anything, not one frequency or voice, until the rap on the door. It was a light knock, and I called for the visi
tor to enter. When the metal swung open, I was surprised to see the strawberry blond enter alone.

  “May I feed you?” She asked.

  I waved her in and gestured for her to join me on the berth. “I can’t sit up,” I said.

  She rushed to my side. “No need,” she said. “I’ll take care of you.”

  She dropped down to her knees on the deck in front of the berth, and pulled her hair off to one side. When she let her head roll to her shoulder, I found the strength to move since my fangs longed to bite her neck. I fed like a glutton, only stopping when she slumped forward. I hadn’t killed her, but had certainly made her faint. Her blood filled me with more than satisfaction, as I leaned back to enjoy the high. I looked at my wrists, admiring how quickly the welts faded. I ran my tongue across my teeth, feeling the hardening of my gums. I even noticed my nails glisten in the dimness of the compartment. Once I felt like myself again, I sat up and pulled the girl onto the berth. She lay unconscious as I admired her. She didn’t appeal to me the way Hal did, she lacked the color of the humans in the den. She was obviously different, though her blood tasted similar.

  When she stirred, I looked away, not wanting her to catch me leering at her. I didn’t know the protocol and wondered if I was supposed to send her away. She opened her eyes, and smiled at me. “Better?” She asked.

  I shrugged, not knowing why she’d care.

  “Vincent sent me,” she said. “He told me you’d need to feed.”

  Her mention of my beloved tore into me and made my furnace rage anew. Her blood hardened, sunk in the pit of my stomach as it was. My fingertips tingled, and I forced my fangs out, hissing at her. I hadn’t intended to react in such a fiendish way, and regretted my lack of control. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  Her look of terror vanished, as I softened. “It’s all right,” she said. “Veor is just outside. He’d rush in if anything …”

  I admired her courage. “Why are you here?” I asked.

  She contemplated answering, but gave in when I smiled. “It’s the safest place for me to be,” she said. “I wouldn’t survive if not for this haven.”

  “You’re grateful to be a donor, then?”

  “I’m grateful to be alive,” she said. “Aren’t you?”

  I brushed off her interrogation. I wasn’t interested in conversation, just answers. “How did you get on the ship?”

  “I was recruited,” she said.

  “Where?”

  “I’m American,” she said.

  I was surprised she was American. She spoke Italian like a native. “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  “Since the beginning,” she said.

  “The beginning of the plague?”

  My question seemed to make her uncomfortable. Her pulse quickened and a blush rose to her cheeks. I licked my lips without realizing it. “I can’t feed you again yet,” she said. “I have to eat first.”

  “I’m not—I don’t need more,” I said. “You’ve been living aboard since the outbreak started?”

  “I can’t remember when I boarded,” she said.

  She wasn’t a good liar and I could tell her arrival on the ship was shrouded in mystery, especially since she attempted to hide it from me.

  “May I ask you a personal question?” She asked.

  I shrugged.

  “Do you miss Lucia?”

  The name of my offspring sounded foreign. She may as well have asked if I missed clams. I knew where I stood with regard to the child but wondered why she was curious. “Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to pry,” she said. “We’re taking good care of her, as I’m sure they’ve told you. But I was just curious from one woman to anoth—” She stopped herself when she realized how silly she sounded.

  “Do you have a child?” I asked.

  She tried to smile, but the power of memory was too strong. The corners of her mouth turned downward and her eyes welled with tears. She pursed her lips to contain her sob and shook her head. I may not have been a woman, considering I was a girl when I was transfigured, but I’d lived a full life and recognized the sorrow of loss when I saw it.

  “Did she succumb to the plague?” Sentimentality and propriety were for humans, and I wanted answers, so I questioned her despite the painful memory.

  She regained her composure and told me her baby was delivered stillborn. “I carried her for eight full months before I lost her,” she said. “I haven’t quite gotten over the barrenness.”

  I couldn’t relate, but told her I was sorry for her loss. “Is that why you feed us?” I asked, wanting to know why she volunteered to be there.

  She smiled again and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She sniffled and laughed and I thought how impossible it’d be to return to a human state of existence. “I assume you know what it’s like to be a donor,” she said. “The feeling of attachment, the bond I have, isn’t something I can give up.”

  She referred to the inextricable connection that arises between the donor and her vampire. It was a sentiment I hadn’t forgotten, though my own vampiric attachment went unsatisfied.

  “How many do you feed?” I asked.

  “I’m reserved for a select few,” she said. “Vincent’s one of them.”

  I felt a sting in my neck—where his points used to prick—when she said others fed on her. I didn’t want Vincent to have one donor all to himself, unless she was me.

  “I can return later if you’d like,” she said. She was a lithe thing, pale and used up, and I thought it better to let her recover. She’d need her strength to feed Vincent.

  I asked her name before she left. “They call me Muriel,” she said.

  Muriel left me with thoughts of former times, days and nights spent with the one to whom I’d given my life. Despite the security of the ship, I missed our isolation and the despair our situation had forced on us. I missed Vincent.

  I lay on the berth, basking in my high and listening to the sounds on the ship. I hadn’t thought about anyone until then—except for Vincent, of course—but started to wonder where Peter was. I didn’t see him in steerage once Huitzilli had turned on me, and I doubted he brought me to the cabin since I woke up alone. I thought I might search for him, but when I picked up his frequency, I didn’t have to. He was directly outside my compartment, and I assumed he was coming to see me until his signal faded again. I opened the door to look for him, but the passageway was empty. I listened to the rumble of the metal bulkheads, trying to distinguish between the voices I heard, as multiple conversations came at me through the steel frame of the ship. I discarded each until I’d picked up Peter’s voice.

  “She is pure,” he said. “I can see it in her, Lord. Give her the strength she needs to overcome our heathenish ways. Don’t let her fall into the trap, don’t let her forfeit your grace. She is pure, my Lord. She knows you. I see it in her, and I know she will make you proud. Give her the chance, Lord, through me—use me to show her the way. I will save her soul, Lord, if you let me.”

  As he prayed, I felt ashamed for eavesdropping, though I wondered if I was the subject of his plea. I lost his voice when a vampire entered the passageway from a door at the end. I recalled the sound, and knew who it was. I didn’t wait for her to turn the corner and stepped back into my compartment. I’d already started to shut the door behind me when she threw her hand up to stop it.

  “Novice,” she said. “May I come in?” She spoke Italian, and once again I wondered if it was common practice to address another in their native tongue. The rules of parley on the ship fascinated me, though I can’t say why.

  I opened the door and permitted her to enter. She came in and closed the metal door behind her, standing with her back up against it. Her posture wasn’t threatening, but I noticed her talons were flexed, and so I anticipated my third attack since coming aboard. It seemed protocol for a novice to suffer the abuse of her seniors. I assumed all of it was training in some way, and the sooner I
learned how to fight, the better off I’d be.

  We stared at one another like the cowboys I’d seen facing off for a draw in the spaghetti westerns my stepfather would project on the wall of his den. I grew exasperated with the chaotic rhythm of the vampire’s frequency and tried to use the irritation to my advantage, letting it strum the strings of my rage. I don’t know how long we stood there but I finally ended the standoff when I asked her who she was.

  “I am Mindiss,” she said.

  “Who sent you?” I asked.

  “I come of my own will,” she said. “No one rules me.”

  “What do you want with me?”

  “I am here to meet you,” she said. “To greet my enemy.”

  “How can I be your enemy if we only just met?” I asked.

  She smirked but didn’t relinquish her gaze. I don’t think she blinked once. “You think you have a monopoly on greatness, novice. But you will lose yourself here. Takhar will have his vengeance.”

  I couldn’t begin to guess who she was talking about. Her vendetta was obviously her own. “You’re mistaken,” I said. “I haven’t hurt anyone.”

  She brought a hand up to her face, and used a talon to cut a line into the skin below her eye socket from her tear duct to the outer edge of her face and hairline. The fissure glistened.

  “I see you,” she said. “And so does Takhar. The gods have spoken and pass this message to you.”

  I waited for the message, as she stared me down. A scar beneath her eye was already forming, as her wound magically healed itself. She finally broke her gaze when her eyes rolled up into her head. The whites of her pupils looked yellow against her ebony skin.