Black Heart Page 22

Not a veil but a mask!

  A second crew who they call the donors

  Cheng Li’s head was spinning. Her father’s last months had been spent pursuing the Vampirates!

  Suddenly, she became aware of another presence in the room. This time, there had been no knock, or else she had been too engrossed to be aware of it.

  “Jasmine,” she said. “Thank you. This really is an incredible find!”

  But when she looked up it wasn’t Jasmine who stood before her. It was a young man, with translucent pale skin and hair as black as a raven’s wing.

  “And who might you be?” she asked, though already she had her suspicions.

  “My name is Lorcan,” he said. “Lorcan Furey.” His sky-blue eyes bore into hers as he continued. “I’ve come to bring you a message from the Vampirates.”

  30

  THE CONUNDRUM

  Beguiling. It wasn’t a word that came into Cheng Li’s mind often, but it was the perfect word to describe the young man standing before her.

  “So,” she said, “the legendary Lorcan Furey.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Legendary?”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said with a smile. “And from what I can see, you more than live up to your advance publicity.”

  In reality, of course, he wasn’t young. That was the trick of it! He had roamed the earth and oceans for several centuries. His pallor hinted at the fact, but at the same time enhanced his rare beauty, like the translucent marble of an antique statue or the papery violet-tinged skin of a garlic bulb. Ironic, thought Cheng Li, given what they said about garlic.

  His long dark lashes cast shadows over his sharp cheekbones as he looked down modestly. “This isn’t a social call, Captain Li,” he said. “I have a message for you. From Mosh Zu, guru of the Vampirates.”

  “Mosh Zu?” she said. “I’ve never heard of him.”

  “There is much you don’t know about us,” answered Lorcan.

  “But I’m eager to learn,” said Cheng Li. “Why don’t you sit down?” She indicated the chair on the other side of the desk. “That is, if you care to sit?”

  “Assuming you don’t have a handy velvet-lined coffin for me to lie in, this chair will do just fine,” Lorcan said, settling himself down opposite her.

  “Vampirate humor!” Cheng Li smiled. “I wasn’t expecting that. From what Grace told me, I had you pegged as the dark and brooding type.”

  He smiled at that. “I’m sure I have my moments.”

  “I’m sure you do, Lorcan Furey,” she said, feeling butterflies stirring in her stomach. “I’m sure you do.”

  I’m flirting with a vampire, she thought. What was the expression? Flirting with danger. Well, it didn’t come much more dangerous than being shut in a confined space with a confirmed bloodsucker, even if he did have the kind of looks usually reserved for marble statues. What if he was hungry? Or was it thirsty? Never mind. It all boiled down to the same thing: him leaning across the battered desk and sinking his teeth into her.

  “We had better get down to business,” Lorcan said, his rich brogue drawing her back from her internal monologue.

  “Indeed,” Cheng Li answered, hoping he had no clue as to the effect his presence was having on her. “You said you had a message for me. From this Mosh Zu.” Her almond eyes focused intently on Lorcan’s face.

  “It’s very simple, really,” he said. “Don’t start something that you cannot finish.”

  His words sent Cheng Li’s heart racing. An electric current of adrenaline pulsed through her. Her first thought was that it might be fear, given that she had just been given a warning from the Vampirates. But she knew fear, and this wasn’t fear. What then? Attraction? Well, undeniably she was attracted to the youth seated across the desk from her, with his blue eyes, long lashes, and sharp cheekbones. Yes, yes, in another place and time, things could have become very interesting between them. But this feeling, this sensation, was bigger than either fear or attraction. Suddenly, she realized what it was, striking a pin decisively through the butterfly wings of her thoughts. It was the fact that Mosh Zu, clearly one of the most senior Vampirates, had sent an envoy to her. To her! Not to René Grammont, much-respected old guard of the Federation. Nor to Commodore Ahab Black, the mysterious and ambitious newcomer. No, Mosh Zu had sent Lorcan to her, Cheng Li. She couldn’t have wished for a more potent sign that her power was on the increase.

  Lorcan cleared his throat. “Do you understand the message?” he asked.

  She nodded. “You know about my mission.” She gazed at him, waiting for him to speak again. He stared back, seemingly quite happy at the silence between them. She was tempted to say something more, but she had to be careful. Already there was something about Lorcan Furey that had her off balance. Usually, this was the effect she exerted on others. How very strange, and not altogether pleasant, to have it turned back upon herself. There was a very real danger that he might draw her into saying more than she would wish, or that the Federation would condone.

  He stood up once more. Evidently, he was preparing to leave.

  “Is that it?” she asked.

  “I’ve delivered the message,” said Lorcan. “My job here is done.”

  “Wait,” Cheng Li said. Her words succeeded in halting his rapid exit. But now she was unsure how to proceed. “How did you get in here?” she asked. “In fact, how did you know where to find me?”

  “Does it matter?” he asked. “I got here. I found you. I delivered Mosh Zu’s message.”

  Cheng Li’s mind was racing. She wanted to keep him in the room, though she wasn’t sure why and she didn’t have time to question further now.

  “Shouldn’t I send a message back to your master?” she said.

  Lorcan turned again but shook his head. “That isn’t necessary.”

  “I see,” Cheng Li said somewhat bitterly. “So this wasn’t so much a message, rather a warning.”

  Lorcan shrugged. “I’m grateful for your time. And your attention. I trust you’ll give due consideration to what I’ve told you.”

  “Yes,” Cheng Li said. “Yes, I will.”

  He nodded and turned once more, making the last few strides toward the door. As he did so, she saw a piece of paper fall from the folds of his cloak. It fluttered free in the lamplight, then landed on the floor, white and fragile as a feather.

  “Wait!” she cried, then could have kicked herself.

  He was already at the door. He turned around, his blue eyes seeking hers through the lamplight, then locking onto them. “Yes?”

  Cheng Li tried desperately not to look at or even think about the piece of paper on the floor. With the utmost effort, she assumed a casual tone. “I just wondered how Grace was getting on?”

  “She’s very well,” Lorcan said, his voice softer than before. “I’ll tell her you asked after her, if you like.”

  “Please do that,” said Cheng Li.

  “Was there something else you wanted to tell me?” he asked. His hand was already on the door. In a moment, he’d walk through it and out into the night. This was her last chance.

  She thought of the paper on the floor. It was probably nothing of any importance. But even so. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, there’s nothing else.”

  He didn’t move. Could he sense there was something she was keeping from him? Had he dropped the paper intentionally? Was he testing her?

  “So how do you make your exit?” she asked. “In a puff of smoke? Or do you just vaporize?”

  He grinned at her. “Much as I hate to be a crushing disappointment to you, I reckon I’ll just take the door.” With that, he turned, pushed open the door, and stepped out into the corridor.

  She listened to his footsteps fade. She didn’t dwell on whether he was taking the strange elevator back up to the Rotunda or finding another way altogether to leave the academy. As he had said himself, what did it matter?

  Cheng Li sat down at her desk, feeling the aftershock of her encounter wi
th Lorcan Furey and the strange blend of fear and excitement his visit, his warning, but above all his presence, had instilled in her. For a time, she replayed their conversation in her head, thinking how much better she could have played it, how much smarter. But Lorcan Furey was a cool customer—a very cool customer indeed. She remembered Grace telling her about his evasiveness when she’d first joined the Nocturne—his ability to speak without saying anything, to talk in riddles. He’s a conundrum, thought Cheng Li. A walking, talking conundrum.

  She couldn’t help but think of Grace and of the relationship between her and Lorcan. The way Grace had told it to her that night at the academy, it had sounded like an intense crush. Grace wasn’t the first young woman, nor would she be the last, to fall for the rebel outsider within her midst. But Lorcan was more than a rebel outsider, she reminded herself. He was a demon, even if he was blessed with the looks of a demigod.

  As Cheng Li framed the thought, she glanced forward and caught sight again of the rectangle of paper Lorcan had dropped before departing. She lifted the hurricane lamp and walked over to it, dropping to her knees. As she lowered the lamp to the floor, she saw that it was not, as she had first thought, a sheet of paper Lorcan had dropped, but an envelope. It was lying facedown. She lifted it and turned it over, seeing that a single name was scrawled on the front: Grace.

  The envelope was plump, filled with several pages of notepaper, no doubt covered in writing. What did it say, she wondered, wanting not to rush the moment of opening but to defer the pleasure. Was it a declaration of love from the vampire to his mortal sweetheart? Or perhaps more likely, was he about to break off their relationship and within this envelope was the full explanation why? Cheng Li weighed the precious envelope in her hands, smiling at this intriguing gift that had literally fallen into her possession.

  It was time to get out of this airless lockup, to return to her comfortable cabin aboard the Tiger, and to reflect on the treasures this day had brought her. She was tired but elated. She had much to reflect upon.

  She glanced down at her father’s notebook. She couldn’t resist lifting it and glancing momentarily at the pages penned in Chang Ko Li’s distinctive hand and equally distinctive turquoise ink. But she wouldn’t read it here. Save it for later.

  She tucked Lorcan’s letter inside the journal, then placed it in her bag. She zipped the bag and slung it over her shoulder. Lifting the hurricane lamp once more, she headed back to the door, then stepped out into the corridor. She shut the archive door and continued on into the darkness, eager to get back to her cabin as quickly as possible and unpack the satchel. She had no shortage of reading material tonight, that was for certain! Suddenly, she felt quite revived.

  31

  FIGHTBACK

  Another night. Another dead-end coastal town about to be decimated.

  Stukeley and Johnny monitored their approach from the bridge of the Blood Captain. They could hear the hungry mob below getting psyched up for action. Another night of feasting, revelry, and utter chaos.

  In the captain’s cabin, Sidorio stood before the ceiling-high mirror, adjusting his new cape. It was an elaborate affair, comprising an array of animal pelts with chains of bones, topped off with metal spikes on each shoulder. Needless to say, it was custom-made. Lola had recommended a tailor, and though initially he had been skeptical, he had been easily persuaded that a) he would look irresistible in every sense of the word and b) as King of the Vampirates, he urgently required clothes befitting his fast-growing reputation. He had acquired the new boots, with matching spikes, from another of Lola’s contacts. He grinned. In a short time, Lola had become indispensable to him.

  He leaned closer to the mirror, checking to see if anything was stuck between his teeth. He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Perfect,” he declared, grinning at himself. Then he turned, noting with satisfaction the swish of his new cape, and headed out of the cabin to rendezvous with his lieutenants on the bridge.

  As he made his way along the corridor, the crowd of rank-and-file Vampirates parted like the Red Sea. Their shrill voices fell to a respectful hush as he prowled past them and began climbing the stairs to the bridge. He threw open the door to announce his presence. The reverberating clang of metal achieved the desired effect. Johnny and Stukeley turned simultaneously.

  “Evening, lads,” said Sidorio.

  “Good evening, Captain,” said Johnny.

  Stukeley nodded hello, his eyes bugging at Sidorio’s elaborate outfit. “That’s quite an outfit!” he exclaimed. “Is the cape, by any chance, a new acquisition?”

  Sidorio nodded proudly. “Lola helped me with the design.” He struck a pose, allowing them to see the cape in its full glory. “Do you think it’s too…” He hesitated, searching for the word.

  “Ostentatious?” offered Stukeley.

  “Understated?” Sidorio roared.

  Stukeley shook his head very slowly. “No, Captain. I think you can rest assured that it is in no way too understated.”

  “Excellent,” Sidorio said, rubbing his hands together. “Are you both hungry? I’m very hungry.”

  Johnny nodded. “I am hungry like the wolf!” he said, giving a rather accurate impression of a wolf call.

  “Very good, Stetson,” Sidorio said with a grin.

  “Actually,” Stukeley said, “it’s good to see you, Captain. As we’ve got a few moments before we disembark, could we talk with you about some business?”

  “All right,” Sidorio said, his bored expression signaling a marked lack of enthusiasm.

  The captain, never one to enjoy strategy discussions at the best of times, seemed more restless than usual tonight. But Stukeley could not afford to defer this discussion. “Have you heard the news that the pirates are building a force to directly attack us?”

  “Really?” Sidorio’s raised eyebrow indicated moderate interest.

  “Yes,” Stukeley said, nodding. “It’s on account of the murder of Commodore Kuo, the headmaster of the Pirate Academy and two of the students there.”

  Sidorio smiled. “Lola’s work.”

  Stukeley nodded. “Yes, indeed. The work of Lady Lockwood and the crew of the Vagabond.”

  Sidorio grinned. “Naughty Lola!”

  Stukeley frowned. “The thing is, Captain, all our intelligence indicates that Lady Lockwood has slipped through the net, and the pirates are coming after you instead. They remember your massacre of Porfirio Wrathe and his crew and think you were responsible.”

  Sidorio smiled. “I think I did kill him.”

  “Yes, you did,” Stukeley said. “I was with you.” He paused. “My point, Captain, is that the situation is changing fast. We need to prepare ourselves.”

  “For what?” Sidorio asked. “An attack from some prancing pirates?” His fingers traced the spikes on his shoulder pads. “Bring it on! We’ll make mincemeat of them!” He paused. “Or maybe we’ll start up our own winery, like—”

  “It’s great to see you being so bullish about this,” Stukeley forged on. “Do you remember when we talked before about setting up a new command structure?” Sidorio stared blankly at his deputy. “Along the lines of a Roman legion?” Sidorio showed a flicker of recognition at this.

  “We need more captains,” Stukeley said, deciding to keep it simple. “One for each ship.”

  “I’m the captain,” Sidorio said, his voice booming around the bridge and out into the corridor.

  “Yes,” Johnny said, coming to the aid of his fellow deputy. “You’re in overall command. No one is questioning that. But given this threat and how fast our own numbers are expanding, we need more ships and a captain and deputy for every last one of them. We need to start assessing who within the ranks has leadership potential.”

  Sidorio yawned, his gold incisors glinting in his open mouth. His breath, Stukeley noticed, was uncharacteristically sweet. Minty fresh. Wrinkling his nose, Stukeley returned his focus to their discussion. “I know this stuff might seem overly bureaucratic to you, Capt
ain, but we must attend to these matters. This situation has been building for some time.”

  Sidorio shrugged, though whether from lack of an answer or pure boredom was unclear. Noticing another mirror on the opposite wall, he turned away from his lieutenants and strutted off toward it.

  Stukeley and Johnny exchanged a glance.

  “I’d give up if I were you,” Johnny muttered under his breath. “His mind is somewhere else altogether tonight.”

  “You can say that again!” Stukeley hissed with a grimace.

  “Would you two just relax?” Sidorio said, over his shoulder. “We are becoming an unstoppable force. Let the pirates come after us if they want. If they think they can prevent our rise, then they’re wrong. Dead wrong.”

  Sidorio turned back to the mirror. He puffed out his chest, alternately raising one pectoral, then the other, as if taking part in a private bodybuilding contest. “Are we nearly there yet?” he asked. “We don’t want to be late meeting the others.”

  “What others?” his deputies asked in unison, their voices laced with concern.

  Sidorio turned, smiling amiably. “Didn’t I mention that Lady Lockwood and her crew would be joining us tonight? We thought it would be a laugh to hunt together.”

  Stukeley frowned, turning away and looking across to the beach. “Oh, yes,” he said, in a voice utterly devoid of enthusiasm. “Her ship has just pulled in.”

  “Excellent,” Sidorio said, sniffing under his armpits. “Righto, boys, time to drop anchor and make tracks.”

  “Before you go,” Stukeley said, “can we at least finish our discussion?”

  “I thought we already did,” Sidorio said.

  Stukeley drew on every last ounce of patience within his command. “Captain, this issue won’t just go away. If the pirates are planning to attack us, and it seems they are, we have to be ready.”

  “All right,” Sidorio said pleasantly. “What are you suggesting?”

  Sometimes, Stukeley wondered if the captain, in spite of his considerable powers, was blessed with the memory of a goldfish.