Another knock at the door.
"All right!" Connor yelled. "Keep your hair on!"
His boots still unlaced, he strode over to the door and opened it. But it wasn't Stukeley and Johnny. It was Sidorio who stood leaning against the door, arms folded. He grinned at Connor.
"I see you've changed out of your toga," he said.
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Connor nodded. "You, too." Sidorio was back in his trademark metal-and-leather armor.
"I never liked wearing a skirt, even when it was considered socially acceptable," Sidorio said. "I'm sorry, son, I could see you enjoyed that portrait sitting about as much as I did. But sometimes I have to do things to keep the wife happy!"
Connor nodded, feeling a surprising sense of fellowship with Sidorio. Although, now that he thought about it, Sidorio had been in good form throughout the portrait sitting, alleviating the serious mood and terminal boredom by cracking jokes. At one point, he had made Signor Caravaggio drop his palette, he was laughing so much. Lola had had to instruct them all to take the sitting more seriously or it would never be finished. It was at that point that Sidorio had asked his wife, "Couldn't you have found us a Vampirate photographer ?" Lola had just scowled at him, so he had apologized and promised to behave himself.
"Anyhow," Sidorio said now, "I don't know about you, but after standing still for two hours I'm more than ready for some physical exercise."
Connor laughed and finished lacing his boots. "You're not suggesting another duel, are you? I've only just recovered from the last one."
Sidorio grinned, his now-familiar gold incisors gleaming in the light of the corridor. "No, son, not a duel. Something rather more exciting than that. Come with me." He had a sudden thought. "Oh, and bring your sword."
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Intrigued, Connor grabbed his sword and joined Sidorio out in the corridor. The interior of The Blood Captain was empty. Walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Sidorio across the high metal-grid, Connor felt no vertigo. On the contrary, it was as if they were walking on air through the deserted ship. He could tell from the way they were going that they would end up out on deck.
As they walked along, they chatted away. Part of Connor observed the conversation at a distance and wondered how he could have fallen into such an easy camaraderie with the most vicious of Vampirates. One element of it was simple necessity--to do a good job for Cheng Li and the Federation he had to bond as convincingly as possible with Sidorio, Stukeley, Johnny, and the rest of the crew. And yet, Connor realized, as Sidorio cracked another joke, he was actually enjoying the captain's company. It was hard to square this Sidorio with the monster he'd once attempted to destroy. Of course, he wasn't blind to the violence and mayhem of which Sidorio was capable, but now he saw another side to him. He knew that Stukeley and Johnny felt the same way. Sidorio was, strange though it was to admit, an easy kind of father figure. Then it struck Connor, like a star shooting across the night sky. He is my father. Before, the thought had filled him with horror and disgust. Now, he felt differently. He could feel a real connection.
As they stepped out on deck, the mystery of where the crew had disappeared to was immediately solved. The
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upper deck was thronging with a full crowd. The Vampirates were swift to register the captain's presence, and a pathway opened up through them, like a red carpet unrolling. Connor couldn't help feeling a sense of pride. He knew that he was being accorded the same respect as Sidorio, on account of being his son. It reminded him of the first time he had passed beyond the velvet rope at Ma Kettle's Tavern. He felt in a position of rare privilege; he was a VIP pirate and now, by some strange symbiosis of birth and destiny, a Vampirate VIP, too.
Sidorio marched through the crowd with easy authority. It was as if he'd been born to reign. At last he came to the bow of the ship, where Stukeley and Johnny were waiting. They raised their hands in salute, and it seemed that this mark of respect was not only for Sidorio but for Connor, too. He smiled to himself. No more taking the heat about what I'm wearing now , he thought.
"Is everything ready?" Sidorio inquired of his lieutenants.
"Yes, Captain," Johnny said. "Look, there's the ship. It won't be long now."
Sidorio stepped forward and Connor followed in his wake. Johnny had pointed in a north-north-easterly direction, where a sizable galleon was cresting the night waves. The galleon was flying the familiar skull and crossbones insignia. A pirate ship. Connor felt an immediate wave of alarm.
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"How long until we're adjacent?" Sidorio asked Stukeley.
"Less than ten," Stukeley answered. "We're closing in."
"What is that ship?" Connor asked, as salt spray came up and splashed his face.
"It's called The Redeemer ," Stukeley said.
"It's a Federation ship, isn't it?" Connor's voice was hoarse. He could taste saltwater at the pit of his throat. He could barely get the words out.
Stukeley nodded.
Sidorio put his hand on Connor's shoulder. "It's so good to have you here with me. This will be the first of many battles we fight side by side. Forget the portrait. This is where our legend begins." Sidorio continued as his eyes met Connor's. "It is time that you had a name that befits your status and destiny. Connor Tempest is no more. From now on, my son, you will be known as Connor Quintus Antonius Sidorio."
Connor registered the words numbly. Was it true? Was Connor Tempest really gone? And, if so, who--or what--had taken his place?
Connor didn't take part in the attack, despite Sidorio's promise that they would fight alongside one another. He
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didn't need to. Within moments of the Vampirates' descent onto The Redeemer , the nameless captain and his crew were overpowered. At first, Connor felt utter revulsion, as the crew of The Blood Captain cut a swath through the subjugated vessel. But, as bodies crashed onto the deck and blood began to spill, he felt himself suspending judgment. Was this so very different from any other attacks he had witnessed, or been part of? Attacks were always brutal, whether your weapon was a sword slashing a man's chest or a pair of sharp incisors bearing down on his thorax. He couldn't understand how he could be so resigned to it. Around him, bodies seemed to fall in slow motion, spurting blood. He stood there, frozen to the spot, feeling a strange sense of dislocation. He was both there but utterly absent. It was a strange privilege to be at the heart of a battle yet to not even have to lift a sword.
In his head, he heard Cheng Li's voice admonishing him. Why hadn't he acted to prevent this attack? But what could he have done? The first he had heard of it was less than an hour ago, when Sidorio had rapped on his door. Even if, by some miracle, he had gotten word to Kally, the fishtail couldn't have swum to The Tiger in time to alert them. Nor could the Federation have gotten word to The Redeemer or sent in reinforcements. Connor knew that Cheng Li and the Federation would be fuming, but there was nothing he could have done.
He felt a strange sense of calm, which he struggled to
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understand. It was a numbness that held him there at the center of the deck--a passive witness to the bloodshed around him. But then he felt a new sensation. It had something in common with a rise in adrenaline, but it wasn't exactly the same. His senses were heightened: sight, sound, smell, taste, touch. Each of them was reaching out for one thing and one thing only. Blood.
Now, as he glanced about the deck, he no longer saw the fallen bodies, or the impotent swords. All he saw were the splashes of red--small spatters on white linen shirts; larger pools spreading across the deckboards. Rivers of blood flowing together into an ocean of red.
Seeing this, smelling this, feeling each of his senses open up to it, Connor felt only one thing, resonating through him in a way that nothing had before.
Hunger.
Cheng Li strode along the main deck of The Tiger.
"Jacoby! Where's Jacoby?"
"Don't know, Captain," Bart called as he polished a cannon.
"Haven't s
een him, Captain Li," cried Bo Yin, high up in the rigging, where she was making repairs.
"Somebody find him!" Cheng Li bellowed. "Now!"
Her cry seemed to echo not only around the ship but across the vast ocean that surrounded them.
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Jacoby flung open the door leading out onto the deck and ran toward her. Jasmine followed after him, a few steps ahead of Cate.
"Captain!" Jacoby called.
"How could this happen?" Cheng Li barked, as they met each other at The Tiger 's main mast.
"It took Connor completely by surprise," Jacoby said. "He didn't have time to find Kally until afterward. He promises he'll do better next time."
" Next time ?" Cheng Li screamed. "Next time?! How many more ships does the Federation have to lose before you, Connor, and that fishtail start to raise your game?"
Jacoby had never seen the captain quite so angry. She marched past him back inside the ship.
Jasmine came over to Jacoby and hugged him. They were joined by Cate and Bart and then by Bo Yin, who had deftly swung down the rigging.
"You did your best," Jasmine said. "That was all you could do."
"She's right, buddy," Bart said. "You have nothing to beat yourself up about."
Cate nodded. Bo Yin shook her head sadly.
There were tears in Jacoby's eyes and he was shaking. "One ship lost and a hundred crew missing, presumed dead or, worse, undead . And it's my fault." Breaking free of Jasmine's arms, he ran inside to find Cheng Li and determine their next move.
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24 MANEUVERS
Connor had been nervously anticipating Tiffin. It was his best--often his only --chance to talk to Grace during his day, or rather night. In between, he was kept busy on The Blood Captain just as she was on The Vagabond . For the past forty-eight hours, since the attack on The Redeemer , Connor had been building up the nerve to talk to his sister about his new hunger for blood. The strength of the hunger had overwhelmed and unsettled him. It hadn't happened again since, but somehow he was certain that it would return; that it hadn't disappeared but rather lay dormant. He wondered if the sight of blood was needed to stoke the hunger or if it would simply come of its own bidding.
Had Grace experienced the same hunger? It seemed likely. She was a dhampir, too. They were the exact same age and, if anything, weren't girls supposed to physically
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mature a little sooner than boys? The best way to find out was to talk to her. Connor knew that. But he was scared, somehow. He had the sense that once he talked to her--or indeed anyone else--about his hunger, that his words would make it real. For now, he could kid himself that he wasn't really a dhampir, that Sidorio wasn't his biological father--that it was merely a ruse conjured up by Cheng Li to help them infiltrate the rebel Vampirate empire. But, deep down, he knew there was no running away from it. The blood hunger had been powerful enough to convince him of the fact. He was changing; becoming a dhampir. There was no denying it.
As soon as he arrived at Tiffin, Connor broke off from the other members of his party and went to find Grace. She was, as he expected, seated at the dining table. They remained the only two who ate at these gatherings, and Chef Escoffier's generosity and inventiveness showed no signs of waning. If anything, his offerings seemed to grow more lavish each night. As Grace glanced in his direction, Connor smiled weakly and, taking a deep breath, walked over to join her. As he stepped closer to the table, he realized that she was not alone. Her new friends from The Vagabond were sitting around her, and it was very clear that they had settled down for a good gossip. There was not going to be an easy way to get her alone.
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Feeling a mixture of disappointment and relief, Connor sat down to eat. Initially, the girls acknowledged him, but it soon became clear that they had many hot topics to discuss that did not involve him. He tucked into his food with enjoyment, aware that his appetite for regular food seemed to be growing rapidly.
As Connor watched Grace chatting with the girls, he realized how much she too was changing. It was only a short time since they had arrived on the Vampirate ships, but already she was looking and acting differently. Today, she had barely acknowledged him. He knew that she had her own mission to infiltrate the Vampirate ranks and report back to her comrades on The Nocturne . But either she was way off track with that or she was far better at acting than he'd given her credit for.
On balance, he thought, it was probably a good thing that he hadn't blurted out his concerns about his blood hunger to her. The days of sharing everything with his twin sister were over. He'd been slow to recognize this, but it was the truth. She had other confidantes now. And so, come to think of it, did he. He looked up and saw Stukeley and Johnny joking away over on the other side of the room. Stukeley had been on a similar trajectory to Connor--from mortal life to vampirism. He would know what it was like to experience the physical changes involved in the metamorphosis. He was the one Connor should talk to about his hunger. Not here, not now, but soon.
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Grace was in fits of laughter, prompted by one of Nathalie's hilarious stories, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she found Sidorio standing over her.
"I wonder if I might have a moment alone with you?" he said.
Grace was taken aback but nodded. "Yes, yes of course," she said, allowing him to pull back her chair. The girls were silent for a moment as Sidorio led her away, then they bowed their heads, and she could hear their familiar laughter continuing. Their company was addictive. Already, she missed them.
"Let's go up on deck," Sidorio said, opening the doors of Lola's cabin.
"How are you liking life on board The Vagabond ?" he asked her as they made their way along the corridor.
"Very much," Grace said, pleased that she could add with genuine feeling, "I've made some good friends here."
Sidorio nodded. "I see that. And I hope that you are enjoying getting to know your stepmother, too."
Grace nodded, deciding not to elaborate on this. Her jury was still out on Lola.
"I'm sorry that you and I have not had more time together since your arrival," Sidorio said.
Grace shook her head. "It's really not a problem."
"I don't want you to think that I have chosen Connor
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over you. You are equally important to me, Grace. We just thought that you would be more comfortable here with Lola, and it made sense for Connor to be with me on The Blood Captain ."
Grace nodded. "I understand," she said.
Sidorio pushed open the door out onto the deck. Grace noticed that several of Lola's crew were patrolling outside. She exchanged a smile with first Holly, then Leonie. Silently, Sidorio placed a hand on her shoulder and led her gently over to the prow of the ship. Then he withdrew his hand and reached into his pocket.
"There's something I want you to have," he said. He opened his fist to reveal a small brooch. "It belonged to my mother... your grandmother." Compared to the lavish jewelry worn by Lola and her comrades, the brooch was very simple and plain, but there was something about it that Grace found instantly appealing.
Sidorio placed it into her hand. "It was the only piece of jewelry my mother had. My father--your grandfather--gave it to her on their wedding day. He made it himself. She always treasured it."
Grace looked at the small brooch, then up at Sidorio. Suddenly, a heritage that she had never known before fell into place. She was looking at the face of her father, but in her head was a link to her grandparents and the lives they had lived centuries ago.
"I let my parents down," Sidorio said. "I went away to make something of myself. I became a pirate. But by the
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time I'd made a pot of gold and gone back for them, they were already at death's door. My gold was no good to them. It was too late. When they needed me, I was out robbing ships. I let them down and they were the only family I had... until now."
Grace lifted up the brooch. "Would you pin it on my
dress?" she asked.
He nodded. The pin was tiny, and Sidorio's thick fingers fumbled with it for a moment. Grace waited patiently as he finally fastened it to her dress.
"Thank you," she said. "I shall treasure it."
For a moment, they stood side by side, in silence. Then Sidorio turned to Grace once more. "I know that this isn't the life you would have chosen for yourself. Or Connor for himself. But I want you both to know that I will do everything in my power to make you happy here."
He reached out his hand to Grace. To her amazement, she snaked her fingers through his. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Connor was talking to Stukeley and Johnny when Mimma came over to them.
"All right, lads? More fuel?"
"Sure," Stukeley said, reaching out his glass as Mimma lifted the decanter with a wink.
"Rude not to," Johnny said, extending his own glass.
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"How about you, Connor?" Mimma asked. "Where's your goblet?"
"Not for me, thanks," he said.
Mimma arched an eyebrow defiantly.
Connor shook his head. "Not tonight," he said.
"Please yourself!" Mimma proceeded on her way. Then she turned and retraced her steps. "Hey, Stukeley, I hear you're to lead the next attack. Can I come with you? There's nothing I like better than a bit of bloodshed before bed."
Stukeley grinned. "I'd be pleased to have you at my side, Mim," he said.
"Now, now, sailor, don't get carried away. I said I'd like to join you in the fight. Not walk down the aisle with you. Not yet, anyhow." Winking, Mimma turned and strode off again.
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