“Chrissake,” Captain Jem said. “There’s a shitload and they all want me, don’t they.”
The Toltec laughed at the human and said, “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that tasty.”
“We must move quickly,” I said.
Hari agreed and said, “Let me remedy our speed,” picking up the captain and tossing him over his shoulder.
“Put me the fuck down,” Captain Jem said. “Right fucking now for Chrissake.”
The vampire scolded the captain for his feverish attitude and reminded him he would be happy to drop him on the ground and leave him behind.
“Aw, fuck,” Captain Jem said, accepting his position.
We rushed forward at a speed most befitting our energy but it took us some time to pick up the trail. I had been searching for her frequency, hearing nothing until a small cry, like a breathless chirp, ripped into me. The call increased, as I drove us forward. “We are close,” I said. “Be ready.”
I could not get a sense of Rangu or the others, but when Huitzilli said he also felt vibrations, I knew the Hummingbird had picked up their frequencies.
“It’s like a barrier, ancient one,” he said. “The waves are cut off up ahead.”
Hari and Pechu flanked me while Huitzilli had my back. I took the natural lead, guiding them into danger. Our route had been flat until the plain in front of us began to incline. We would have had the more vulnerable position had this been a battlefield, but I encouraged the vampires to spread out with their scopes readied. A swarm could come from anywhere, especially from the pass above us. We were blind to the hilltop, but she was there, her call frantic.
Once we reached midway up the hill, the peaks of trees revealed themselves. The shade of the olive grove gave me some relief, thinking she would be hidden in the darkness—but I was wrong. Huitzilli saw her first, displayed for all. He pointed her out to me and I flew to her, but the Hummingbird called me back. “Stop,” he shouted when I was midway to her. I did not retreat. Hari and Pechu rushed up the nearest trees and positioned themselves on the branches, firing off shots. I was driven to Evelina, strung up by the ankles as the bait that she was, and I missed the swarms closing in.
And then, as though from the sky, Veronica dropped down, tackling me, driving me into the ground. She was wholly unrecognizable now but hissed and spat her black muck all over me. She pecked at me with her graceless beak and tried to tear into my hardened skin. I pushed up on her, but she was stronger now. Her eyes were cloudy, and I did not think she could see me.
“Min-n-n-n-n-n-e!” She squealed with the voice of an animal. “She-s-s-s-s-s-s-s min-n-n-n-n-n-e.”
I could not get my gun out to take a shot since she used her clawed feet to pin my arms on my torso, but by some miracle I thought of the flare and slipped it out of my waist, cocking it upward through the middle of us, as I made some headway getting her off of me. When I got the flare gun pointed at her chest, I dug it into her flesh, ramming the barrel up inside her. I could feel the vigor of her heart as it pounded with the force of an air-pressured gun. I did not hesitate, and pulled the trigger, sending the burning flare into her flesh. She squealed and pulled her torso up off of mine. Her chest was eviscerated and the flame ate its way up her neck. I pushed her off me and sprang to my feet. Bodies were everywhere, but my vampires were still in the trees. Hari and Pechu had pelted Stephen with darts, though they could only bring him down with a flare, as I had done with Veronica.
I could not see the captain, Huitzilli or Rangu, but I made for Evelina’s tree again. She was nowhere to be seen, and I closed my eyes to listen for her frequency amidst the pandemonium. Rangu tackled me from the side, I think, for I did not see him coming. My irons shot out and I wrestled with the fiend until I was hanging off the ground. He squeezed my neck with his mammoth force and I saw slivers of light. His face was unchanged but he was speechless this time. With his irons out, his tarred mouth looked like a metal mine, and when he came at me with his disfigured beak, I raised my arms to block my chest. He bit through my hardened hand, and I suffered enormous pain, like the pain forced on me with the tainted blood. The venomous bite took my attention, as I concentrated on the pain alone, oblivious to the shots he took in the neck from a distant dart gun. He released me when he threw his hand up to his neck, and I hit the ground hard, practically sinking into it, blacking out as I succumbed to the agony in the right side of my body.
I do not remember much else, Byron. The rest is blank and I have yet to hear the untold story.
I woke alone on my berth with the wretched donor at my side.
“Feed again,” Hal said. “You probably need another hit.”
He stretched out his arm and I yanked it closer, ripping into the soft spot beneath his bicep. I sucked up his blood with abandon. The narcotized ichor had healed me of my pain and when I finished, I tossed his arm from me and told him he could go. He reclined in the chair by my berth and gazed off. His blood was similar to Paul’s, I felt the same torpor, but the healing properties are superior to anything I have experienced. My arm was wound-free when I woke.
“You can go,” I said.
“I’m not to leave you.” His voice was gruff, which I attributed to his drugged constitution.
“Get Peter,” I said. “I want to speak with him.”
I tried to sit up, which is when I noticed the irons on my ankles. My legs were chained together. “Unlock me,” I said to the donor before he slipped from the cabin, shutting the door behind him.
I could not break the irons, though I had recovered. The titanium anklets were too tight to get a hand under to snap off, and they were bolted to an anchor buried deep inside the bulkhead. It was not long before the Empress came into my cabin, a cigarette dangling from her lips. “I was told you were awake,” she said. “How is the arm?”
“Unlock me,” I said. “Now.” My boldness was plain. She was afraid to test my rage, for she stayed just out of reach.
“I can’t do that,” she said. “Not just yet.”
“What happened—how did I get back here?”
She smiled in an unctuous way and I let my iron fangs out. I would not temper my nature anymore.
“Put them away,” she said. “Your anger is useless. You’ve lost the upper hand now that I’ve left Evelina behind.”
It was almost as if I heard the ship’s engines roar at the same moment she said she had left Evelina behind. I could feel the ship’s movement now and was racked with anxiety. “Why have you abandoned her?” I did not recognize my own voice, the growl was lower than guttural.
“She served her purpose,” she said. “She was indispensable for one reason—getting you onboard. Once she was gone, and you were back, with or without her, I could leave. Believe me when I say she is unnecessary to the cause.”
“What cause?”
“You, Vincent,” she said. “You are the cause.”
I bit my tongue, deliberating my options, and then squashed the irrational outburst festering inside me. I would hide my true feelings once again. “What use am I to you here? I thought I was free to go?”
“You are wanted in the Nortrak, Vincent,” she said. “There are things—well, let’s just say an ancient one is expected to heed certain evolutions.”
Her riddles sickened me, but I held steady.
“Fine,” I said. “I will happily sail west with you, but let me get Evelina first.”
“My progeny is wasted,” she said. “The nomad will take care of her if she survives.”
I asked her to remove my chains again, and she said, “In time, I’ll send someone in to take them off, but for now, I like you where you are.”
“What is all this about, Cixi?”
She bit down hard on her whalebone holder, locking the trinket between her molars like a dog chewing on a bone. She sneered and came a little closer, though not near enough. “Where were you at the height of the volcanic ruptures?” She asked.
She spoke of the Great Fracture, the bibl
ical-sized event that had lava spoils eating up a third of the world’s dry land over a decade ago.
“Here,” I said.
“Did you know I was in lower Asia when the worst of it hit,” she said. “My palace was a mile from the largest eruption?”
I waited for her to make her point, though she seemed bent on indulging herself.
“My immortality was tested then,” she said. She went to the sideboard and pulled out the untouched cigarette stash. She refilled her whalebone holder twice before speaking again. She paced the cabin in the meantime, and then asked, “Do you know why I collect art?”
“All refined creatures love art,” I said in jest.
She smiled, but her ugly face looked all the more oily. “Because it is the only tie we have to humanity—their artifacts, not their blood, remind us of our power. To overcome the human is to own the human. To own the human is to own humanity. My works of art, Vincent, are all that is left of the beast we called man.”
I did not go in for her cryptic wisdom. She had proved her lunatic state of mind time and again. She was infected with power and it had laid waste to her common sense long ago, if she ever was a rational being. Xing Fu had made quite a choice when choosing her—one of my many regrets.
“You believed Evelina was a work of art once,” I said. “Is she not still? Do you really want to relinquish the masterpiece you made?”
My feeble attempt at brainwashing the master manipulator failed when something on the opposite bulkhead caught her eye and absorbed her attention.
“Her memory lives on,” she said, “in her human child. Lú xiya is the masterpiece.” She made for the door.
“Unlock me, Cixi,” I said. “Let me go.”
Willful, she looked back at me and scowled before shutting me in my new prison.
I will not tell you how insane I went in that cabin, Byron. How deeply I felt the loss of my sparrow. I vowed to spend the rest of my life seeking her out the moment I was freed. I would forego the child, the ship of donors, the safety of the vampire army. I would live in a barren wasteland of bloodless if it meant I could commune with my counterpart for the end of my days. Our bond is greater than me, Byron, and I felt her absence more greatly than your dissolution. I know you understand me, though you are gone. I sense your presence still, your comfort, through my words, despite their emptiness. Will we meet again, Byron? Is there a god who can bring us together?
I do not know how long I was trapped in the cabin, but when Muriel came in, I thought I was dreaming. She brought Veor with her.
“We don’t have much time,” she said. “But you must feed.” She unbuttoned her collar and bared her neck. I did not hesitate, and Veor turned aside as I fed on the donor. I prevented her swoon, stopping just before she reached the cliff’s edge.
“How far out to sea are we?” I asked.
“We are still coasting along the shore,” Veor said. “I have secured a boat.”
“Veor will take you, Vincent,” Muriel said. “You must hurry.” She turned to Veor and he reached over with the keys to unlock my anklets. “This is from Peter,” she said, handing me a small device. “Veor will explain it. Now come—there’s no time.”
The Viking and his maiden ushered me out of the compartment and led me through the passageway toward the donors’ quarters. Once we reached the human section, I felt as secure as if I had been behind enemy lines. We were close to the Empress and her clan of loyal vampires. At the end of Muriel’s passageway, we climbed a ladder to a portal several levels up. The maze of secret passageways that is the cargo ship will have anyone turning in circles. When we reached topside, twilight greeted me with its familiar aspect and a gale pushed against my body but could not toss me about, as I bounded along the path following Veor. We had abandoned Muriel at the bottom of the ladder, wishing us luck as we climbed up. Neither she nor Veor showed signs of parting for long, and I wondered how we would return to a ship that was fast sailing west into the night.
Veor’s boat—a small lifeboat with two oars—was towed by the ship, waiting for us as he said, and we dove into the foamy sea like cormorants plunging for supper. The Viking commandeered the little skiff and got us away from the ship in record time, heading north toward the coastline leading to my Evelina. I would have sat in silence, anxious to get on land, but the Viking knew things I did not, and so I encouraged him to spill his secrets.
“They will return once they realize you’re gone,” he said after strokes of silence.
“Will Muriel tell the Empress?”
“She better not,” he said. “She can’t be caught for this, and you better not give her up either.” He defended the human with a ferocity I recognized.
“What do you know?” I asked, trusting Veor as I trusted Muriel.
“When they brought you back, she wouldn’t let Muriel go to you,” he said. “Peter too. She kept him away. Huitzilli and the others told her about the attack, and she insisted you needed the blood of the false ones.”
“The false ones?”
“You know the difference,” he said, wryly. “I know you do. It’s why you drink from Muriel—it’s why she does too.”
“Who else feeds on her?”
He rowed without speaking and I asked if he wanted me to take over. He grinned and said, “I’m Viking—rowing’s what we do.”
“So she insisted I feed on the den donor,” I said, trying to pick up where we left off.
“They have the power to heal us,” he said.
“All blood does,” I said.
“Not like this.”
“Why did she lock me up?”
“I don’t know but it’s the same reason she lured you to the ship,” he said. “The same reason we came. That’s what my sister told me.”
“Your sister?”
“She’s not actually my sister,” he said. “But Muriel’s my blood.”
Veor is a kinblood, a vampire loyal to his human line. He had probably been feeding on his descendants since he was transfigured, refusing to contaminate his constitution with any blood but his own. Muriel is from his family tree, though I doubt she knows it. Kinbloods are discreet about their picky tastes, often hiding their reasons for choosing a quarry. But it means he does not kill easily, and I wondered if it was because he had shed enough blood as a Viking.
“Why is Muriel loyal to me?” I asked.
“The baby,” he said. “She’s loyal to the baby more than you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “The last child was supposed to be hers,” he said. “But when she lost—it doesn’t matter. She’s attached and that’s to your benefit.”
“Who is Muriel to the Empress?” I asked, wondering why the donor received special treatment.
“It’s not about who she is to the Empress,” he said. “It’s about her maker.”
“Xing Fu?”
The Viking looked to the shoreline, pointing out the shoal ahead. “We’ll dock on those rocks,” he said, maneuvering us to the landing point.
I looked up at the rocky pass, and wondered how we would find my Evelina. The sky was purple, and she could be anywhere.
“Let me see the device,” Veor said. “The one from Peter.”
I pulled out the trinket, which fit snuggly in the palm of my hand. The monitor was dark.
“It should light up when we’re close,” Veor said.
“What is it?”
“A tracker,” he said. “It should lead us to the novice.”
The Empress had put a tracker on my Evelina, and I wondered if it was for my benefit, in case the two of us left the ship together. I did not question how Peter had gotten it, but silently thanked him for pulling through. We would make quick work of locating her with the instrument, though I would rely on our union too.
Veor secured the lifeboat to some rocks a few miles south of the cargo ship’s original position. He was well equipped and tossed me a dart gun from the bag at his feet. We sloshed through the shallow water, up the
rock face, past the collapsed villas and fallen trees. Like every coastline, this one had not escaped the facelift the world’s environmental disasters had insisted upon. Once we reached the peak, we turned a full circle, surveying the landscape.
“Where to?” Veor asked.
I had no idea how to locate her, but relied on instinct. I banked on her being with Wallach. I was only a little familiar with the layout of the land since we were close to the hill town, but I headed toward the most populated region.
“How is your sense of smell?” I asked.
“Excellent,” Veor said. “What are you looking for?”
“Small game, rabbit and fox,” I said. “Anything easy to catch.”
“Are you hungry?” He asked.
“I am looking for a furblood,” I said.
“Sjuk.”
Veor raised himself higher on a rock and opened his arms, throwing his head back. He stood in the Christlike position for a time before pointing in a direction, reporting that an abundance of weasel carcasses were rotting several miles north. I suppose I should have recognized his gift as one similar to Alessandra’s, but my mind was elsewhere. I wonder now though, Byron, if he is like her—if Veor is made with artificial venom.
We raced across the rocks and into the trees, weaving through the landscape as though we and it were one. Everything was more rich in the absence of daylight. The cool air clung to me, buoying me up, carrying me through the trees and over the land like a raft. Veor raced alongside me, our strides in sync, our minds soldered together as we clung to the same goal, finding Evelina. I let Veor direct us to the spot, and sure enough he had been correct. A pile of carcasses, dried out and drained, sat heaped on the ground. Veor bent down to smell them and reported they were hours old.
“She must be close,” I said.
The monitor was still black, and I relied on my inner tracker instead. I pushed through the sound waves and reached deep for Evelina’s sparrow. When I failed to hear her, I could not know it was because she was too depleted to send out a signal.
The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier Trilogy (Books 1, 2, 3) Page 43