Black Heart Page 25

  “I do believe you,” Cheng Li said. “We’ve both come such a long way since we first met. There are many things I believe now that my younger self would have been distinctly dubious about.” She smiled once more. “So, you talked to Grace and tried to persuade her to part company from the Vampirates?”

  “Yes,” Connor nodded. “But she is adamant that she won’t.” He couldn’t tell Cheng Li the full extent of Grace’s dark imaginings—that she and he were related to the Vampirates. He could never tell her that. Why did things have to be so complicated? All he wanted was to fit in somewhere, here. All he craved was to be a good and trusted pirate, but now he was even failing at that.

  “Connor,” Cheng Li said, “you’re doing your best. I see that. This isn’t easy for you.”

  “I’ve let you down,” he said. “You gave me a second chance, and I’ve failed you.”

  Cheng Li shook her head. “Stop being so hard on yourself. You did exactly what I asked of you—you spoke to Grace. And then, although it was understandably difficult for you, you assisted Jacoby and Jasmine with their experiments.”

  “I tried,” he said.

  “It’s going to be easier from here on in,” Cheng Li said. “Our experiments are over. Now we start planning for our attack on Sidorio. On Sidorio, remember? We’re not going after the Vampirates Grace is with. Neither she nor they are in any immediate danger.”

  “Not now, but…”

  “You need to take one day at a time, Connor,” said Cheng Li. “There will be plenty of time after this mission is completed for you to talk to Grace at length. And not simply by astral travel. I’ll take you to wherever she is. I’ll talk to her, too, if it helps. But for now, please be assured that she is safe.”

  He nodded. “Thank you,” he said, attempting a smile. “I mean it. Thank you for everything.”

  Cheng Li nodded. “You’re welcome,” she said lightly. “And now, are you ready to hear about the next part of your mission?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sending you back to Lantao,” she said. The very word stirred pleasing memories in Connor’s mind. “Yes,” she continued, “I thought that might bring a smile to your face. You’ll meet with Master Yin and commission him to make new weaponry for us. Fifty swords, made of silver, but also incorporating hawthorn and aconite. I think Master Yin will enjoy the challenge, don’t you? And the trip will do you good, too, I think.”

  Connor nodded.

  “Prepare your things,” Cheng Li said. “You’ll leave first thing in the morning. And I anticipate you’ll need to stay in Lantao for a week or so.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Connor said, reaching for his sword and hooded sweater, both of which lay on the deck floor.

  Cheng Li began walking away. Suddenly, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, I forgot to say, Jasmine will go with you—to keep you company on the journey.”

  “Jasmine!” Connor exclaimed. He loved the thought of sailing to Lantao with Jasmine, of introducing her to Master Yin and his excitable daughter, Bo. But there were complicating factors. “Um, how’s Jacoby going to feel about me sailing off to Lantao for a week with his girlfriend?”

  Cheng Li’s eyes seemed to twinkle in the starlight. “Let me take care of the deputy captain,” she said. “I have plenty to keep him busy here as we prepare for the attack.” With that, she turned and strode off, bristling with purpose.

  Connor lingered on deck for only a moment more, the sky darkening around him. Filled with a sudden, surprising surge of happiness, he jumped up and punched the air. Then he ran inside to start packing.

  34

  THE CHRYSALIS

  “Grace,” Lorcan said, “what you’re going through at the moment, these strange physical symptoms. It isn’t the flu. And I don’t think it’s stress, like Oskar says.”

  “What is it then?” Grace asked, urgently.

  “You’re in a stage of metamorphosis,” Lorcan said. “And it’s exerting a powerful force on your body.”

  “What kind of metamorphosis?” Grace asked, feeling suddenly alert.

  “It’s like when a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly,” Lorcan said. “You know how that works? The caterpillar sheds its skin, and the skin hardens to form a chrysalis that contains and protects the caterpillar while it changes into a butterfly.” Lorcan nodded at Grace. “Well, right now you’re inside that chrysalis. That’s why everything feels so strange and confusing to you. Grace, the most amazing changes are happening inside you.”

  Grace comprehended his words, but she was still unsure exactly what he meant. “These changes,” she said, “are they a good thing?”

  Lorcan smiled and squeezed her hand. “I think you will feel good about them,” he said. “But it’s a major transformation, Grace. You need to pace yourself, to take one step at a time.”

  She took a breath. “All right,” she said, “I think I can do that. But you have to tell me more. I need to know what I’m becoming.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I know.” He glanced down, then back up at her eyes. “Grace, what I’m about to tell you is going to change everything for you. It’s going to change the way you think about yourself and about me, about your mother and Dexter and Connor. Everything you thought you knew. Everything you thought you were. That’s all about to change. I’ve been trying to protect you from this.”

  Grace frowned. She had been feeling off-kilter before Lorcan had started speaking. Now his words sounded ominous. “I don’t understand. If the transformation is a good thing, what is there to protect me from?”

  “The transformation itself is good,” Lorcan said. “But like I say, it will change the way you think about things, about people who are close to you. That’s why I wanted to be the one to tell you, but we had to wait until you were ready.”

  “I am ready,” Grace said, sitting upright in bed.

  “Yes,” Lorcan said. “Yes, I know that now.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll take this slowly, Grace. If there’s anything you don’t understand, just tell me, okay?”

  She nodded, her heart racing with suspense.

  “Grace,” said Lorcan, “you’re not a regular mortal.”

  “I knew it!” she exclaimed. “I’m a vampire, aren’t I? And Connor is, too!”

  “Not exactly,” Lorcan said. “Grace, you are both dhampirs.”

  “Dhampirs?” Grace repeated. “Are they a kind of vampire?”

  “Yes,” Lorcan nodded. “Put simply, you are half vampire. A dhampir is the child of a mortal mother and a vampire father.”

  Grace felt herself flush hot and cold, but she was unsure whether it was due to the metamorphosis Lorcan had referred to or simply the shock of his revelation. A mortal mother and a vampire father…

  “So I was right. Dexter was a vampire!”

  Lorcan’s eyes were intense. “I’ll come to that later. First things first. You have to understand the implications of this. You and Connor are both dhampirs. Like Vampirates, you are blessed with immortality, but you are stronger. You do not have our weaknesses.”

  Grace tried to keep up. “I’m immortal?” she said. She understood the implications of the word, but she could not equate them with herself. Lorcan had just told her that she was special, that she was going to live forever, but she could not truly believe it. She felt unchanged from before—weak with fatigue and flulike symptoms, perhaps—but otherwise the same old Grace. Somehow she had always known she was different. She racked her brains for some evidence, searching for something to hold on to, something to make this feel real, concrete.

  “Do I need to take blood?” she asked. “Is that why my body is changing right now? Will I need a donor?”

  “I believe that’s a matter of choice,” Lorcan said. “I shall let Mosh Zu talk to you about that, in due course. He can explain it better than me. You’re the first dhampir I’ve ever met.”

  Grace sighed.

  “Don’t rush at this,” Lorcan said. “It’s a lot to take in a
t once. You need to give yourself time.”

  “Is that why Sally came back?” Grace asked. “To prepare me?”

  “Yes,” Lorcan said. “Yes, I believe so.”

  “But I don’t understand,” said Grace. “If that’s the case, why did she leave before telling me herself? Why didn’t she finish the story?”

  “She wanted to,” Lorcan said. “More than anything she wanted to, but she just couldn’t in the end. That’s why I said I’d do it for her.”

  “You?” Grace said, looking up into his eyes, his azure blue eyes. The eyes that had welcomed her to the Nocturne that very first night.

  Suddenly, she found the fixed point in all this she had been searching for. “You!” she said once more, but this time it was no longer a question.

  “What about me?” he asked.

  Feverish as she was, she almost blurted out the words. Now that I’m immortal, too, you and I can be together. Always. There’s nothing to stand in our way. But in spite of her fever, an internal censor prevented her from speaking the words. Instead, she merely smiled. Suddenly, everything made sense, pure and perfect sense.

  But Lorcan did not return her smile. He was looking anxious.

  “Lorcan,” she asked. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Ssh,” he said, managing a smile. “Did I say that anything was wrong? I told you before, Grace. This is a wonderful transformation you are going through. You just have to give yourself time.” He turned his gaze from her briefly. “I have to go now. The Feast will begin soon. Will you be all right on your own? I can stop by later, or have Oskar or one of the others…”

  Grace shook her head. “I’m fine here.” Then a fresh thought occurred to her. “Why don’t I come with you? To the Feast! I came before.”

  Lorcan shook his head. “It’s too soon,” he said. “You need to rest.”

  “I’m tired of resting,” Grace said. “From what I can gather, all I’ve been doing for days is resting. It would do me good to get out.”

  “I’m sorry, Grace,” said Lorcan. “But it’s too soon. You have to trust me on this. You’re experiencing a sudden burst of energy now, but it’s fragile. You’ll need to rest again soon. Trust me.”

  She sighed, but she knew it was futile. There was no one more stubborn than Lorcan Furey when he chose to be. All right then, let him go. Let him go to the feast. But while he was away, she wouldn’t sleep. She would sit up and think all of this through. She’d put the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle together and work out exactly what he was keeping from her.

  “All right, then,” she said. “I’ll stay here and rest.”

  “It’s for the best,” he said, bringing the covers up over her once more, ever the dutiful nursemaid.

  He leaned close then and gazed down at her. She smiled up at him. He was so beautiful. Was this the moment she had been waiting for? Was he, at last, about to kiss her?

  “I’ll see you later,” he said, then bowed his head and kissed her tenderly on her forehead.

  In spite of her disappointment, his kiss was soothing. It left a pleasing chill on her fevered brow long after he had made his way to the door and out to join the others at the Feast.

  After Lorcan had gone, Grace tried to hold on to everything he had said. But it had been so much to take in, and she was incredibly tired, more tired even than in the aftermath of the near-fatal shipwreck. She fell into a deep sleep, full of strange dreams. Conversations replayed in her mind. She awoke with a start, realizing what she’d missed. Dexter Tempest wasn’t a Vampirate. Her mother had been very clear about that. And if that was the case, then Dexter wasn’t the twins’ father.

  Grace began rewinding the conversations she’d had with her mother. She couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, but she didn’t think Sally had once referred to Dexter as the twins’ dad or father. She had always called him by his name, or simply “he.” It was as if Sally had been giving Grace a message throughout their conversations, but Grace had only picked up on it too late.

  So Grace and Connor were half vampires, dhampirs. And their true father—their “biological” father—was a Vampirate. But who? Again Grace began reflecting on her recent conversations and experiences. Sally had been Sidorio’s donor, but it was clear that their relationship was strictly business. She was, to borrow Oskar’s phrase, simply Sidorio’s Mobile Blood Supply. But which of the other Vampirates could it be?

  Grace felt her heart begin to race. Who had been the first Vampirate to welcome Sally with open arms? Lorcan. Who had been the one exchanging secret looks and smiles with Sally? Lorcan. Who, throughout their relationship, had blown hot and cold toward Grace, suggesting intimacy one moment, then just as suddenly backing away? Lorcan. And who had been even more evasive and furtive around Grace since Sally’s arrival? Lorcan.

  Was Lorcan the twins’ father? He couldn’t be. Could he? It would change everything… just as he’d said.

  35

  RETURN TO LANTAO

  “Connor! Connor Tempest!”

  As Connor jumped down onto the wooden pier he hardly had a chance to catch his breath before a small bundle of energy bounced into him and hugged him. Looking down, he saw the beaming face of Bo Yin, the swordsmith’s daughter. “Connor! Connor Tempest! It is you!”

  “Hello, Bo,” he said, shaking with laughter as Bo Yin released him from her clutches. “That’s quite a welcome!”

  “I’m very pleased to see you,” said Bo. “I was on my way to the fish market. There I was, minding my own business, watching the taxi boats, and then I see Connor Tempest! What brings you back to Lantao so soon?”

  “I have a new commission for your father,” Connor said. “From Captain Li.”

  Bo Yin looked understandably puzzled. “A new commission? But all those other swords he made before, what happened to them? Was there something wrong?”

  Connor shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “They were perfect, like all Master Yin’s work. I’ve come to talk to him about something extra. Something special.”

  “Intriguing!” said Bo Yin, smiling from ear to ear. Suddenly, her expression changed. “And who’s that?”

  They turned as Jasmine climbed out of the taxi boat, having concluded a lengthy discussion with its oarsman. Jasmine slipped down her sunglasses and strode along the pier. The oarsman seemed transfixed by her long tanned legs as she walked away. Joining Connor, she shook her head. “Makes you wish they had a course in negotiation at Pirate Academy!” she said, then caught sight of Bo. Smiling, she extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Jasmine Peacock.”

  “And I am Bo Yin. Very good friend of Connor Tempest.”

  “Really?” Jasmine said. “Well, any good friend of Connor’s is a friend of mine.”

  Bo Yin nodded, a grin dancing on her face. “Come on!” she said. “Come up and talk to my father.” She looped her arm through Connor’s and led him briskly along the pier, the fish market already a distant memory. Grinning, Jasmine followed in their wake, soaking up the sights, sounds, and smells of the bustling little harbor.

  Bo Yin leaned in close to Connor and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Connor Tempest has a girlfriend,” she said.

  “No,” Connor said, shaking his head. “Just a friend.”

  “Jasmine Peacock. Beautiful name. Beautiful girl!” declared Bo Yin.

  “Perhaps, but…” began Connor.

  “Lots to catch up on,” said the irrepressible Bo, winking as she led him up the stairs to the stilt building that housed her father’s workshop.

  “Back so soon, Bo Yin?” came a familiar voice from beyond a beaded curtain.

  “Yes, Pop. And I bring guests!”

  “Guests? We’re not expecting any guests! What’s all this nonsense?” In a moment, a hand appeared, then a face. And then Master Yin shuffled into the room, a diminutive figure. Seeing Connor, he smiled. “Ah, that explains the commotion. It looks like Bo Yin’s wishes came true.”

  Connor blushed. “Good afternoon
, sir,” he said. “I’m sorry to arrive unannounced. This is my comrade Jasmine Peacock.”

  “It’s a great honor to meet you, Master Yin,” said Jasmine, bowing before him.

  “Welcome, welcome!” said Master Yin, shaking her hand. “It’s a hot afternoon, and you must be parched from your journey. Bo Yin, perhaps some lychee juice would be in order?”

  “Coming right up, Pop!” said Bo Yin, hurrying into the kitchen.

  “Well, my friends,” said Master Yin, “come and sit. Sit! Make yourselves comfortable and tell me, what brings you back to Lantao?”

  “This, sir,” Connor said, handing Master Yin the note detailing Cheng Li’s requirements. So far, the swordsmith had made no response. Now, at last, he lifted his moonlike face.

  “An intriguing proposition,” he said. “For many years, I have crafted swords for pirate captains from all over the oceans. But this is the first time I have been asked to make swords for such a purpose.”

  “Are there really vampire pirates?” Bo Yin asked, her eyes wide with excitement and wonder.

  “Yes,” nodded Connor.

  “Cool!” said Bo Yin. “Have you seen them? What do they look like?”

  “Quiet, Bo Yin!” said her father. “I cannot think with your ceaseless chatter. Doesn’t your pet need feeding?”

  “Sinbad!” Bo Yin cried. “I forgot all about Sinbad. Thank you, Pop.” She jumped down from the table and ran out of the room.

  Master Yin sighed and glanced down again at the note. Then, saying nothing, he set it back onto the table. Was this his way of saying no?

  “I can help you,” said the swordsmith. “But it will take time.”

  “We don’t have much time,” said Connor, unable to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

  “This is a new departure,” Master Yin said. “I cannot be rushed.”

  “How long do you need?” asked Jasmine in a placatory tone.

  “At least two weeks,” said Master Yin.

  “Two weeks!” Connor said. “We were hoping for half that.”