Shadows of A Vampire

by Guida, ML

  Shadows of A Vampire

  ML Guida

  Buffalo Mountain Press

  Copyright © 2019 by ML Guida

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  About the Author

  Also by ML Guida

  Foreword

  Just in case you wondering, this book used to be called A Pirate’s Revenge. This book has a new cover and it has been re-edited.

  Come and dive into a world of vampires and dragons!

  Prologue

  March, 1671

  The full moon cast an eerie glow on the white sandy Caribbean beach, and waves slapped on the rocks. Zuto, a demon from the underworld Coaybay, sat alone, crossed-legged in front of a burning camp-fire. Within the flames, he watched the current battle between the two frigates, the Fiery Damsel and the Soaring Phoenix. Zuto’s ally, Captain Quinton Palmer, sailed the Fiery Damsel alongside the Soaring Phoenix. Her shrieking cannons tore through the Phoenix’s sail and rigging. She came along the Phoenix’s portside, but Captain Kane O’Brien of the Soaring Phoenix was ready for her. And once again, Palmer underestimated the cunning Phoenix’s captain.

  The Phoenix’s gunners held wicks soaked in saltpeter and spirits of wine, the fuses burning red hot. Others clenched wadding, shot and powder to reload the minute the cannons fired. When the gunmaster brought down his fist, the men lowered the wicks to the touchholes and lit the charge of powder. A moment later, guns exploded simultaneously, the deck grumbling from the force of the recoiling carriages.

  Gray and black smoke twirled around the decks of the frigates. Zuto swore as his men were flung in bloody lumps as high as the topsails. Wood from the Damsel’s smashed railings and bulkhead splintered. Her main mast split and swayed. Grappling hooks locked onto the Damsel’s railing and O’Brien’s crew invaded the lopsided Damsel. Palmer was defeated. His ship was sinking, and he had lost Justin Knight and his daughter, Hannah, Zuto’s most coveted prizes.

  “Damn you, Palmer.” Zuto stood and paced back and forth, unable to watch his hopes die.

  If he disappointed Maketabori, his Lord and master, he’d lose his chance at freedom. He’d do anything to get out from under the god’s claws and leave Coaybay. Maketabori was the lord of the dead, master of demons, destroyer of all that was good. Zuto detested Coaybay. The endless heat, the foul fumes, the desolation. But worse, was the monstrous betrayal among demons, the fear, the hate, the anger.

  Humans. They didn’t realize how lucky they were, to live in the world with color, with tantalizing smells, and with warm feelings. Feelings that Zuto didn’t understand, feelings that made humans glow. Love seemed to be the most powerful, the emotion that fascinated him the most. Made him want to keep his human form. Lured him out of darkness. Forced him to hand over an innocent.

  He picked up a shell and threw it into the ocean, wishing there was another way to escape, but there wasn’t. Too bad for Hannah. Unlike her father, who had left three men infected with small pox on an island and wiped out the majority of Maketabori’s loyal subjects, including a shaman’s young daughter, Hannah had committed no sin.

  But Zuto had no choice.

  Several weeks ago, he had sent Palmer to bring Hannah and her father back to Zuto’s island, so he could hand them to Maketabori. But the fool couldn’t even follow this simple order.

  Palmer had sunk Knight’s ship, but Hannah and her father managed to jump into the ocean and escape. Before Palmer could bring them aboard, the pursuing Soaring Phoenix fired upon Palmer. His antagonist, Captain Kane O’Brien foiled Zuto’s plans and rescued Hannah and her father.

  Zuto refused to disappoint his master. Maketabori had promised that if Zuto brought Hannah and her father to Coaybay, he’d be granted freedom. His lord was obsessed with Knight and Hannah’s death. Yet he didn’t just want Knight and his daughter dead, he wanted the Caribbean inhabitants punished. Why? What was so special about this girl?

  Zuto suspected she was more than just a shaman’s daughter. Maketabori had lost subjects before and had never been this upset, this angry. Not that Zuto’s Lord ever confided in him. No, Zuto was just Maketabori’s damn slave, sent to curse a freshwater lake and turn pirates into vampires during every full moon. The blasted idiots were supposed to do his bidding.

  He wasn’t a fool. Maketabori could easily go back on his promise. He’d done it before. Zuto could bring Knight and his daughter to Maketabori and still not receive his reward. Maketabori could still put him in chains and order him to carry out another dark task.

  Shoulders slumped, he headed back to the flickering fire to watch the battle. Fire and smoke twirled around the deck of the Fiery Damsel, and men clashed with swords. Pistols fired. Two of Palmer’s lackeys dragged a struggling man toward Palmer. The man dug his heels into the wood, but his boots slid across the blood-stained deck, his effort useless. Brown hair hung in his sweating face, and black smoke hid most of his body, but Zuto recognized him. He was William O’Brien––Kane’s younger brother.

  Palmer was twice the size of the men before him, but still shorter than Zuto. Through his scruffy red beard, he flashed a you’re-dead smile and lifted William’s chin with the tip of his sword.

  Zuto arched his eyebrow, and he couldn’t help but smile as hope surged through him. Another plan formed. One more chance to get off this island, one more chance to escape Maketabori forever. If Palmer could follow orders…

  He waved his hand over the flames and sent his thoughts to Palmer. Palmer stiffened and his eyes glossed over. Or at least his right eye did. The ever-present milky film clouding his left leaked constantly. Palmer had been too slow and careless with a prisoner, and the prisoner had wrestled a sword away, stabbing him in his eye.

  Palmer lowered the sword and nodded as if he understood Zuto’s plan. For his sake, he’d better understand it.

  Palmer motioned, and two more of his crew hauled over a man, shirtless and barefoot. Greasy hair stuck to his head. Fresh whip marks covered his torso. Torn breeches hung low on his hips, and dirt and blood covered his emaciated body. The only thing not filthy was the yari, the diamond choker from Coaybay around his neck, but the man held his chin high and tried to fight. Zuto curled his lip at the brave front of their struggling prisoner––Lark Fey.

  Palmer gestured at William. “Lark, Curse him.”

  “No,” Lark said, his voice deafening.

  Palmer stepped back as if a gust of wind had hit him, but it wasn’t wind, it was magic, Lark’s bound magic.

  Anger and heat spurred through Zuto, and he vowed that the young lad would pay for his
deviance. Because it wasn’t Palmer’s orders he was defying, but Zuto’s. A fatal mistake. He’d not like his next punishment.

  “Bloody fool.” Palmer’s red eyes blazed with malice. “You will curse him. Bohiti.”

  The diamonds on Lark’s neck grew darker and changed to fiery rubies. His face turned purple, and blood seeped down his neck. Arching his back, he screamed, his hands grabbing and slapping the collar, but it was useless.

  Palmer’s thin lips turned up into a sneer, and he released a low guttural laugh. “Now call upon the demon Zuto and curse him—slave.”

  Rubies dimmed. Lark panted, and his hands dropped to his side. Hate festered in his eyes. Beaten and submissive, he was ready. Good. Zuto raised his hands over his head. “Drakon, I command you to awaken and come to me.”

  The flames crackled and rose, and the face of a blue and green dragon appeared in the shimmering fire. The dragon had been dead for over a hundred years, slain by Maketabori for defying him.

  “You will possess William O’Brien, then destroy the crew of the Soaring Phoenix, but bring Hannah Knight and her father to me alive. Only then will I bring back your body and set you free.”

  “Maketabori is the God of the Coaybay. You’re just a demon. How can a mere demon break a god’s spell?” Wariness echoed in the dragon’s husky voice.

  “If I couldn’t, you wouldn’t be here now.”

  Doubt filled the dragon’s golden eyes. The beast had little choice if he wanted to live again.

  Zuto didn’t want Kane to know what was coming. He sent forth his spell and hid what was going to happen. They would know soon enough a dragon was among them. He planted the spell word in Lark’s mind.

  Lark’s eyes widened, and his face paled, lips whitened. He put his hands on his head and shouted, “By the holy hell of Coaybay, I call upon the demon Zuto’s power, nogard.”

  Tingles ran down Zuto’s spine. The spell pulled on his power. “Drakon, go now.”

  Drakon vanished. A whipping wind roared around the men. The gust snatched William, yanking him from his captors’ grasp and spinning him around in midair. Green, blue, and red sparks flickered from his fingertips. He shrieked, twisting into odd angles, his bones creaking and snapping. Fire spurted out of his mouth. With one final twist, William screamed, and crashed onto the deck into an unconscious heap.

  Zuto smiled. Triumphant at last. “Well done, Drakon. Bring Knight and his daughter to me, or you’ll be trapped inside William O’Brien forever.”

  Chapter 1

  Tonight was the full moon. Tonight he’d turn into a vampire. Tonight, for the first time, he’d be forced to suck human blood.

  William O’Brien rested his head on his arm against the Green Parrot Inn’s window. It had been a month since he, his brother, and the Soaring Phoenix’s crew had battled the Fiery Damsel. Kane had granted the crew shore leave at Tortuga while repairs were made, the wounded healed, and supplies gathered.

  The glowing sun sank lower and lower behind the mountains, changing white clouds to purple, yellow, and orange. Blue sky dimmed, turning to a light gray. He’d always loved watching sunsets, the clouds, the soft colors. Until now. His heart pounded hard, and with each thump, he knew he was alive, he knew he was human. But with each beat, he worried it would be his last. Thanks to the demon Zuto, he’d change into his worst nightmare.

  The door opened, and William turned around. Doc strolled inside and closed the door behind him. He flashed one of his famous smiles, his white teeth highlighting his black skin. Despite his glowing red eyes, the man still remained jovial. William couldn’t help but smile back.

  Doc’s knowledge of medicine never failed to amaze him. He had learned much in the way of remedies, sutures, and anatomy, as a plantation slave before escaping his cruel master. “Da Cap’n done sent me to find you, lad.”

  William blew out a breath that rattled his lips. “Why? So, he can gloat?”

  Doc shook his head. “Da cap’n’s worried about you. He’d have been here, but Hannah’s still not fully healed, and after one of Palmer’s men was seen in Tortuga, he’s too scared to leave the lass.” He lowered his voice. “He never wanted you to suffer our fate.”

  His warm tone reminded William of a father consoling the youngest son abandoned by an older brother. William didn’t argue. Christ, he knew his brother didn’t want him to be cursed. Hell, William didn’t want to be cursed.

  He waited for his incisors to lengthen and waited for the undeniable thirst. He’d seen how Kane suffered. Soon food would turn to sand in William’s mouth, and he wouldn’t be able to swallow anything, not even water. He’d be a roaming corpse, lusting for his next pint of blood. Trying to get his mind off his upcoming gloom, William tilted his head. “Any word on Palmer and his damn witch?”

  Doc’s face clouded. “Da devil’s gone into hiding. No doubt da bastard’s stolen another ship. We won’t know who she is until da ship fires on us.”

  William placed his palm on the cool window. “Aye, I’m sure of that.”

  The Soaring Phoenix was anchored in Tortuga’s bay, her sails doused. The crew nailed the last boards to repair the Phoenix’s damaged hull from their recent gory battle with Palmer. Men mopped and scrubbed the wood while others rolled barrels of water and gun powder onto the deck. Cook was busy hustling in boxes of vittles.

  “The repairs are almost done. And we’ll hunt Palmer down and finish him once and for all.” Determination echoed through William’s hard voice.

  “Cap’n’s says tonight’s our last day for shore leave. Tomorrow, we sail out to sea to pursue Palmer, the devil himself.” Doc studied him, the merriment leaving his face, replaced with his intense surgeon’s eyes and tight-lipped mouth. “William, d’ye not feel anythun’?”

  William sat on the edge of the bed, tapped his foot rapidly on the floor, and gripped his trousers. He flitted his tongue over his teeth and felt nothing jagged. Maybe he had escaped his brother’s fate. Mother of mercy, he hoped so. “I feel well. Maybe I’m not cursed.”

  “Then why would Lark ask for your forgiveness after he cast da spell?”

  “How the hell would I know why a witch would ask for forgiveness? Witches are liars and in league with demons.”

  Doc lowered his gaze. William winced at his harsh tone. He shouldn’t have spoken to Doc that way, but he was drowning in fear––a fear of what he was going to become.

  William shuddered. Why had Lark asked for forgiveness? The witch’s face had been filled with sorrow when he uttered nogard. Kane suspected it had been an incantation straight from Coaybay. After Lark had said it, William had twirled around in the air like a tornado. He passed out and remembered no more until he awoke a few days later on board the Phoenix, the battle forgotten. All except that word. It haunted him. Lark’s voice echoed in his mind over and over. What the hell did it mean?

  “You should be feelin’ da hunger now,” Doc said. “Your fangs should be gettin’ pointy like this.” He lifted his lip and bared his sharp, elongated, vampire canines.

  “I’m not hungry, and my teeth are the same. See?” William peeled back his lips and revealed his teeth.

  “I don’t understand. This is different than when we were first cursed.”

  “I told you, I’m not cursed.” William didn’t know who he was trying to convince more himself or Doc.

  Doc raised an eyebrow. “Not bloody likely. Ronan said as long as Lark done wore da yari he was Palmer’s pet slave. So, you think Lark cast da spell an’ you twirled around in da air to fool Palmer?”

  Heat washed over William’s cheeks, and he wanted to thrash Doc for stating the obvious. Something he didn’t want to believe. Dread nestled in his gut. Something evil would happen. He chose to ignore the foreboding and hung onto his faith of escaping his brother’s fate.

  William pushed his shoulders back and jetted out his chest. “Nothing has happened. And nothing will happen. You can tell my brother I don’t need a nursemaid.”

  Doc put his hands beh
ind his back and cleared his throat.

  The sun sank deeper, and the sky darkened. The hair on the back of William’s neck stood up. “Black magic has cursed us.”

  Doc shook his head. “Not all magic is evil.”

  William rolled his eyes. A witch hadn’t betrayed the woman Doc loved, either. “Who told you this? A witch?”

  “There’s good magic out there, lad.”

  “I don’t believe it. Magic is evil. You of all people should know this.” William leaned against the wall. “Look what magic has done to you.”

  Doc glanced out the window. “Aye, ’tis not been an easy life.” His voice faded.

  William wished he hadn’t sounded so disgusted. Doc deserved better than this life. They all did. Although Kane had taught his men how to drink from humans without killing them, William didn’t want to be like them. They were monsters, bloody parasites, feeding on the living.

  A sudden pain throbbed in William’s jaw. He opened his mouth and shut it. He rubbed the side of it, his hand shaking. ’Twas swollen. Why the hell was it swollen? His heart beat faster at the realization he was about to shift into a leech.

  “Sumthun wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” William’s voice was barely a whisper.

  He rolled his tongue over his teeth and scraped over something keen at the back of his jaw. “Doc, are my eyes red?”

  “No. Why?”