The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier Trilogy (Books 1, 2, 3) (52 page)

BOOK: The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier Trilogy (Books 1, 2, 3)
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“Soon tem aporpa colo,” he said. “Gra bitzi va.”

I ignored him and concentrated on Vincent’s signal,
which seemed alive in me still. It was the faintest trace of sound and I
couldn’t tell if it was real or imagined.

“Sanja,” he said. “Coo rund.”

He left me there in the dark shed chained up to the
slab of concrete. But I was happy to be out of the sun, if only for the time
being. When he returned with a badger, I braved the succor, knowing it was the
only thing that could heal my burns. Blood—I needed blood—I need
blood—blood—blood …

 


 

It’s dark now, but when morning comes, I’ll suffer
again unless I find a place to hide. I’m on high ground, a rock ledge in the
hills. I wanted to see the sea—see the sea—seascape see me—I
need to escape …

 


 

I dreamed of Byron.

Vincent said we don’t sleep and so we don’t dream,
but he also told me, “Our daydreams are like portals to the past and we may
relive a seemingly insignificant moment that heeds an astounding revelation in
the present.”

“Can we see the future?” I had asked, more eager to
learn about our psychic powers and our ability to predict our fates.

He wasn’t amused, scolding me for thinking we were
oracles or blind seers. “We go into the future unknowing, willingly, so that
like man, despite our immortal nature, we may make our own destiny,” he had
said. “Do not be fooled, Evelina. You are not owed anything—your
immortality is on loan, not yours to keep.”

His words were mystical, his philosophy a puzzle to
me then. But I have since traveled to the past, and walked through the portals
of which he spoke.

I barely knew Byron and yet his short moments in my
life stay with me. Maybe I’m becoming him, as I dissolve into this pile of ash.

“My dear, do you know you are pregnant?” Byron had
asked me when we met.

I was ashamed of my situation, but he didn’t judge
me. He took my hand in his and consoled me as I cried about it for the first
time since knowing the truth. When I told Marco, he said I was lying—it
wasn’t possible—but I knew it and carried my burden alone. I considered
getting rid of it, I thought about a whole mess of things to do. But I couldn’t
go through with it—not for religious reasons but because I was afraid I’d
end up dead too. When Vincent left the chamber, I asked Byron to help me. I
thought if anyone could help me, a doctor could.

“Will you take it out?” I asked.

His face didn’t change, but he squeezed my hand more
tightly. “Why would you want to give it up?”

“How can I have a baby now? Here, in this world?”

“My dear,” he said, “a baby is exactly what this
world needs.”

“We’ll die together,” I said. “How can I keep a baby
safe?”

“Do not be afraid,” he said. “I will not let any
harm come to you. Vincent will keep you safe.”

I felt Vincent’s absence then, and looked at the
door through which he’d escaped. Byron suspected my affection because he said,
“He will come back.”

“My condition—this situation—I’m
embarrassed,” I said. “I’m more of a burden than you need me to be.”

“Far from it, my child,” Byron said. “You are a
blessing—and our salvation—do not forget that.”

He rested his hand atop mine and gently caressed my
skin with his cold, firm fingers. I didn’t understand his affection, why he
adored me so and considered me a blessing. I wasn’t blind to their otherness,
but neither was I oblivious to their kindness. We’d been fed and clothed and
saved. I wasn’t their salvation—they were mine.

“I can’t express enough gratitude,” I said. “I feel
… safe here with you, with him.”

“Vincent is nothing short of a hero, my dear.”

He studied me, and I him. His face was soft, and he
didn’t look as aged as I originally thought. He looked barely twenty, in fact.
When I first saw him, I thought he was old but as we gazed at each other, I
knew I’d been mistaken. He must have been younger than my mother when she died.

“How old are you?” I asked, forgetting myself.

He smiled and that’s when I saw his pointy teeth.
But I wasn’t scared. It was as if I knew what he was—what they all
were—all along—as if I knew what I’d become.

“We are not the same,” he said. “It is true. We are,
however, also no different. I was twenty-eight years old when I met Vincent.”

“And now?”

“I have lived for more than a century,” he said.

I think my reaction surprised him. I didn’t flinch
when he told me his age, when he confessed what he was, and when I promised to
keep his secret. He responded in kind, and said he knew I could be trusted.

“We rely on you in ways you cannot understand,” he
said. “But we are not all villainous and you have nothing to fear—not
you—not you.”

“I’m not frightened,” I said, though I confess I
felt a swell of apprehension. “You are good. I can see that in you.”

Byron smiled again, and patted my hand. “Vincent is
the good one,” he said. “He will be your champion if you let him. Do not be
fooled by his monstrous exterior.” Byron leaned forward and whispered, “He is
next to godly.”

I swallowed. I was under Byron’s spell, clinging to
his words though we’d only just met. The impact he’d have on my life was clear.
He smiled again and touched my cheek, making me shiver.

“You are no stranger,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“You have visited me before,” he said.

I didn’t understand, and yet I knew.

“I have dreamed of you, my child,” he said. “That he
would find you.”

I wanted to ask, but didn’t need to.

“Vincent,” he said. “My beloved has sought you out
for lifetimes. We are connected you and I.” He released my hand and pulled his
into his lap. He turned away and said, “He will need you when I am gone and so
you must cling to him.”

“Where are you going?” I asked, artless and sincere.

He looked back at me and sighed. “Cling to him,” he
said. “He is fiercely loyal and will guard you with his life. Do you
understand?”

I nodded, though I didn’t completely know what he
meant until now. I do—now I understand wholeheartedly.

“May I tell you a story?” he asked.

I nodded and held my breath.

“Once upon a time, long before the world was formed,
there were two species of beings. A powerful and mighty creator had made a
benevolent being, while a weak and unskilled maker had given birth to a
bloodhungry creature. The two species were expected to share the only planet
that would support their life forms, but they did not live in harmony. For
untold ages, the bloodhungry creature preyed on the benevolent being, feeding
on its will and stealing its source of life. The benevolent being was
resilient, though, and fought against its foe. The two species clashed for
lifetimes until one day the two creators got together and made a third species.
Sharing aspects of both, the hybrid being was sent to mark the balance. A war
ensued, but none of the three beings perished. Now, the three were expected to
live in harmony, but do you know what happened? The first two creatures, the
benevolent and bloodhungry, set their past aside and spliced themselves
together so they could rid themselves of the third.”

He stopped his story midstride, it seemed, and held
me on the edge of suspense. He smiled and said, “Tell me, my dear. Do you think
they succeeded in ridding themselves of the third, the creature of balance?”

I thought about the question for a moment, wanting
him to know I’d been listening carefully. “I think they did, yes,” I said.
“They must have.” I couldn’t see why the two hadn’t killed off the third,
especially once teaming up and becoming extra powerful.

Byron shook his head and said, “My dear, the
benevolent and bloodhungry became the creature of balance, and she alone
inhabits the world.”

It took a moment, but when my ah-ha moment came,
Byron laughed and caressed my hand again. “We must become creatures of balance
if we are to survive the world we have built for ourselves. Even Vincent.”

“Me too?” I asked.

“You too, my child,” he said. “Especially you.”

I never told Vincent about the things Byron said to
me. I never told him I knew what he was from the beginning, that his desire for
my blood—my baby’s blood—tortured him. He doesn’t know it pained me
too. He doesn’t realize Byron expected us to become the creature of balance,
Evelina the benevolent and Vincent the bloodhungry. I wonder if Byron sees I’m
no longer what I was, I’m no longer the gentle creature he once knew. It seems
I’ve failed, and will never become the hybrid being I so long to be. Vincent
and I will remain separate, and bloodhungry.

 

***

25 December.
— Once again, I shall
record the events from memory. My last entry feels like a lifetime ago, though
only days have passed. The world has shrunk once more, and I can barely keep up
with the workings of fate. I am tested, Byron, and I am no longer myself.

Peter never returned because our priorities took on
a new shade. It was not so much the blare of the ship’s alarms that ripped me
from my thoughtful state, but the rush of frequencies that passed my cabin. The
passageway was a scene of disorder, as vampires rushed topside to face the
oncoming danger—the bloodless had come. I hardly believed the
announcement myself, but when I reached the weather deck, I experienced déjà
vu. The water was riddled with heads, as corpses floated toward the vessel from
the shore.

Zhi’s soldiers were quick to take their place,
getting off shots from different positions on the ship. When I looked over the
side, I saw the effect of their guns. Their weapons were capable of disabling
the bloodless with one shot. The darts they emitted were poisonous and not just
with any poison, but with a chemically engineered serum that stops the
bloodless dead in its tracks. By some miracle, Byron, Cixi holds the secret of
incapacitation that you were so desperate to discover. Whoever funds her—Xing
Fu’s contacts at the womb, the core, the facility in the Nortrak—has
given her a weapon that makes her invincible and her ship impenetrable. No
wonder she keeps the blood as safe as she does. I could barely believe my eyes,
as I watched the darts peg them off one by one. Zhi’s soldiers wielded their
guns with precision, making shots like experienced snipers, lodging the dart
into the point of the neck that releases the poison into the throat. You were
correct about the spine—and the throat is the vulnerable point of entry.


Fire!” Zhi shouted, as he stood General to
Cixi’s troop of vampires. “Reload. Hold steady. Fire.” He repeated his command,
and the soldiers obeyed, holding a stream of fire on the moving targets. There
seemed no end to their supply of poisonous darts. I saw Huitzilli up on the
radio tower with his own contraption, a blowpipe that sent the darts cutting
through the air like missiles. The Toltec was concentrated, as he blew into his
weapon without ceasing.

The bloodless that dodged
the darts waded through their decimated brethren, clambering over the husks of
flesh that got in their way. The water energized the live ones and the mob
seemed unending, as dry land coughed up its virus and spewed it into the
harbor.

When I saw a swarm skirt
the line of fire and reach the ladder on the side of the ship, I did not
hesitate to meet them before they rose up. I recalled the slickness of the
ship’s hull, and counted on it keeping them from scaling up to the deck. I
started down the ladder, gliding from rung to rung feet first, and then stopped
to turn my body before reaching the bottom. I tucked my boots beneath the rail
and hung from the ladder with my hands free. The smell, familiar and putrid,
took me back to my hill town’s fortification and fueled an anger that was
already full throttle.

Well fed and
reinvigorated, I did not falter, as the bloodless rose to meet me. I pulled the
first body up myself and dug my talons deep in the sides of his head up to my
wrists, imitating my Evelina in the ring. The soft tissue melted in my hands
and I shook the ick loose before driving my fist through the one coming up
behind it. The third body squealed and lunged for me, but its foot was stuck on
the bottom rung and it could not reach me. I, ever the gallant one, dropped
down a few rungs and pulled it up to me when a fourth came up from behind and
swatted at me. The bloodless trills became aggravated when a fifth and sixth
joined the party. I know you question my renewed vigor, my absence of fear, but
believe me when I say the troop at my back inspired my intrepidness. I was not
alone in my defense and could battle the bloodless for days with the vampire
army behind me.

When the remnants of a
woman faced me, skinless and skeletal, I was reminded the bloodless will not
roam the planet forever. They will soon collapse in decay. Her mouth was agape
and the few teeth that remained were rotted in her blackened gums. She could
smell Muriel’s ichor on my lips, no doubt, and I bared my iron fangs for the
sheer pleasure of letting them warm in the daylight. I drove my talons through
her neck and pulled out her spine. She collapsed into the next bloodless rising
to greet me.

I slid down one more
rung, and grabbed the bony fingers as they tried for me. The bloodless howled
and chomped its jaw—it was not as decayed as the previous ones, though it
was rotting nevertheless. Its hand came loose and I twisted it from its wrist
joint like a key in a lock; when I ripped a seam down its middle, from crown to
crotch, it wailed until it hit the bay and sank.

A swarm tread water at
the base of the ladder, and I taunted them with a clap of my hands. But
stranger than myth, they backed away and floated toward the shore again, almost
as if they were called to return. Some of them were hit by the darts they had
escaped coming forward, but others retreated without looking back. Like the
bloodless tossing themselves over my walls into the burning plants, these
splashed through the water only to climb the rocky land anew and make for the
brush on the shore’s ledge.

I could not know their
mission was accomplished and they had satisfied their role as diversion. I
could not fathom my Evelina topside, in the sunlight, dragged across the
weather deck and tossed over the side of the ship, as I foolishly relished in a
good old-fashioned scrimmage. I could not know—I did not know until Peter
came for me.

I retreated to my cabin
to satisfy my hunger with my donor. Muriel was unaware of the circumstances of
the attack, though she and the others knew a breach was possible. Their section
of the ship is equipped for such things and their quarters are sealed off with
a mechanized hatch that locks them in. I had to wait for the all clear before
she could be released to me.

“I was with Lucia,” she
said, as I escorted her to my cabin. “I cradled her in my arms, soothing her.
She was frightened, I’m sure of it. She senses the danger.” I found that
difficult to believe, but was not interested in a dispute. “I was afraid they’d
gotten onboard,” she said.

“The ship will never be
breached,” I said. If I was certain of anything it was that Cixi’s ship was a
tank, a vessel equipped to fend off any manner of assault. I could not know the
vulnerability that lay within.

“We’ve been attacked
before,” she said.

“But you were safe, no?”

She bit her bottom lip
and said, “Yes, but sometimes I’m reminded of my reality.”

“Which is what exactly?”
I asked.

“I will spend the rest of
my life between this ship and the core.”

“The core?”

She looked up at me.
“We’re not supposed to talk about the core.”

“Is it in the Nortrak?”

She nodded and brought a
finger to her lips. I waited until we entered my cabin to ask about the womb.

“I don’t know what the
womb is,” she said. “But I’ve heard Captain Jem speak about it. Mind you, he
was drunk at the time, so who knows if it means anything.”

“You are from America,
though?”

“Yes,” she said. “What’s
left of it, I suppose. I was born during the first wave of quakes, so I’ve
lived with this my whole life. I was one of the lucky ones. My father was a colonel—he
was connected.”

I did not realize I had
yet to feed until she swallowed and the vein in her neck throbbed, mimicking
fright.

“Would you like to bite
me?” She asked. “I can tell you’re hungry.”

I am not always good at
hiding my desire. It is the most basic need—instinctual, really. I held
out my hand and she took it, letting me sweep her into my arms and take her
while still standing. The blood high stole my senses and when Peter knocked on
my
door
,
I was miles away.

“She’s gone,” he said,
his panicked voice telling me to whom he referred.

“Where?” I asked.

“No one knows,” he said.
“She’s not in her cell, but the guillotine is still there.”

I pushed past Peter and
headed to the Empress’s cabin. She was there with Youlan, the captain and a
stranger—a young vampire I had not met.

“Good you’re here,” she
said to me. “I’ve been told my progeny has escaped, but worse, we’ve been
violated. He gained access to the ship, though my den keeper and ferryman
assure me they didn’t bring him aboard.”

“How?” I asked. I
tempered my rage, despite my difficulty to do so. Muriel’s blood gave me some
sense of peace, as it settled in through my limbs, but the abduction of my
counterpart caused an inner fit of pique.

“No one knows,” she said.
“But I’m determined to find out.” Since she was not smoking or gesturing in any
of the strange ways she is wont to do, I believed her.

“And the attack?” I
asked. “Was that also him?” I knew it was, though I did not doubt the barrage
of bloodless, their controlled movements, and slick retreat, pointed to an
accomplice. Rangu had taken my Evelina and I had to get her back before she
succumbed to a fate to which I could not suffer. I could not know what
treachery abounded, whether the Empress had given Wallach access, sold her
progeny back to him for some valuable artifact, or whether the ship harbored
other traitors. I had my suspicions but any one of them could have coordinated
her abduction.

“I will take the captain
with me and anyone who is willing,” I said. “They have gained a substantial
head start, and the sun is still up for too many hours.”

“Like fucking hell I’m
disembarking,” Captain Jem said. “I don’t go on dry land. Not fucking here. No
fucking way.”

“You have little choice
in the matter,” I said, and turned to the Empress. “I need the poison, the
ammunition you use to disable them. Can you give me a stronger dose?”

“For what?” She asked.

“For a stronger enemy
than the bloodless,” I said. “Rangu must be stopped.”

When I recall the
conversation now, I think it strange the Empress did not question who Rangu was
or why he was strong. She seemed to already know about the aberration, the
seething fiend.

“You may take a donor,
but not the skipper,” Youlan said. “I will release several
guards—volunteers—and the weapons you ask for, but not the
Empress’s captain.”

The small party in Cixi’s
cabin grew when Zhi and Huitzilli entered. I studied the group, trying to learn
who seemed closest to the Empress. She had only revealed minor anxiety at
losing her progeny, though that may have been due to her cold nature. When she
hissed at Youlan and dismissed her for hijacking the negotiations and
suggesting Captain Jem is too valuable to be taken on land, I thought their
roles were evident. But the Empress’s authority was challenged when the
ferryman addressed her in an ancient tongue only the two of them knew. They
disputed feverishly, masking their conversation from the rest of us.

“This is a waste of
time,” I said. “I am leaving with this man and several dart guns and a large
dose of whatever it is you use to disable them.”

“I am coming too, ancient
one,” Huitzilli said.

I pulled Captain Jem by
the collar and the Empress cocked her shoulders back, but Zhi seemed to temper
her with a flick of his hand. “Release them,” he said.

The Empress scowled at
her boatman and sucked the air in through her teeth. When she waved us off, I
told Zhi to ferry us to the shore.

“They headed toward the
east,” the stranger said, as we made for the
door
.

I stepped up to the young
vampire and put my face close to his. “Tell me what you know,” I said.

He tried to step back but
I had immobilized him. He strained to speak and said, “I was up on one of the
fore towers when I saw them come from the hatch. I—I didn’t know—”

“What did you see?” I
asked, unable to hide the anger in my voice.

“He pulled her along on
some kind of lead, she kept her head down, trying to—well, she clung to
him for shade—I think—and when he dove over, she was forced to
follow. But I didn’t see them again until he pulled her up on the shore,
heading east. That’s when I lost them.”

“And you saw nothing else
that might help us?” I asked.

Perhaps it was the way he
said no, or the fact that he had seen Evelina’s abduction and done nothing to
stop it, but I silenced him with a talon to the jugular, tearing out his larynx
with one sweep. I did not stay to see the Empress’s reaction, but dragged the
captain out.

Peter remained onboard,
though he begged me to take him with us. “I can be of use,” he said. “I will
hear her—I can help you find where she is.”

I did not doubt his gift,
but only I would hear the sparrow and draw her out of hiding. Plus, Peter was
no fighter. He could defend himself, to be sure, but Galla had not made him a
great warrior. “You must stay with the ship, do not let it leave without us,” I
said.

BOOK: The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier Trilogy (Books 1, 2, 3)
12.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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