Vampirates 3: Blood Captain (30 page)

Before he knew it, they had lifted him onto their shoulders and were parading him about the deck. He was laughing. “Put me down! Put me down! By order of the captain, put me down!”

But they only laughed. And he didn’t care. In that moment, he felt deeply happy and peaceful. He knew he was a popular captain. He knew he had done a good job. He lifted the sword above his head and there were great cries.

“Captain Tempest! Bravo for Captain Tempest! Bravo . . .”

Suddenly, his focus came back into the room, aware that three pairs of eyes were watching him intently.

Embarrassed, he turned and was about to hang the sword back in its mount. As he lifted it, he caught sight of the Chinese characters engraved on the hilt.

“What does it say?” he asked.

“It is a dedication from Cheng I Sao to Chang Po,” said Master Yin. “Bring it here and I will translate.”

He pulled a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket, opened them out, and set them on his nose. Then Connor extended the sword toward him, and the old swordsmith balanced it upon his lap.

“Ah yes,” he said, taking a cloth and wiping the surface of the hilt. “That’s right! It says, ‘You’ve come a long way from the river delta, little fisherman!’”

The swordsmith smiled, the loose skin around his eyes crinkling. “She had a good sense of humor, I think, that Cheng I Sao.”

“Yes,” smiled Cheng Li, her eyes never moving from Connor, “didn’t she?”

50

THE DANGER ZONE

“Okay, Johnny, very funny! Now let me go!”

It had been an expert throw. The lariat had trapped both Grace’s arms, minimizing her range of movement. Now the rope was starting to dig into her bare arms. But he showed no signs of loosening the lasso. Instead, he looked at her with distant eyes and drew it even tighter.

“Come on, Johnny, you’re hurting me! Please let me go.”

“Not just yet,” he said. “I’m not done with you yet, little lady.” He shook his head slowly.

What did he mean? He began pulling the rope toward him, as expertly as once he would have pulled cattle. She had no choice but to follow.

“What’s wrong with you, Johnny?” she asked as they drew face to face.

“
Wrong
with me?” he said, grinning. “Nothing’s wrong with me! I feel better than I have in a good long while!”

One look in his eyes confirmed her worst fears. “You’ve taken blood, haven’t you?” She looked down at the flask he had dropped onto the dusty floor. “There was blood mixed in with your berry tea. But how? Where did you get it from?”

“The usual place,” he said with a grin.

“You’ve taken it before?”

He shrugged. “I’m a vampire, Grace! There’s only so long I can survive on herbal tea and group meditation.”

Grace winced to hear Mosh Zu’s complex treatments dismissed so scathingly.

“But the tea is a
substitute
for blood! You’re supposed to be learning to manage your hunger. You were doing so well.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said. “That’s very encouraging. Now, stop trying to loosen those ropes. Don’t you know that the more you struggle, the tighter they’re gonna get?”

Grace realized he was right. The more she struggled, the more tightly the ropes dug into her flesh. Looking down, she could see red welts forming just above her elbows. She was close to tears from the pain alone but she didn’t want him to see it. She bit down hard on her lip to pull herself together. “Why are you acting like this?” she asked. “This isn’t you!”

“Sure it is,” he said. “What’s wrong? I kept telling you I was bad news, but all you saw was this rumple-haired geek with a late-night chess habit.”

“No,” she said. “There’s more to you than that. Don’t give up, Johnny! Just because someone’s given you blood you don’t need. Don’t throw it all away! You’ve been running for so long. But you don’t need to run any more. You could have a home on
The Nocturne
.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You, me, and Lorcan. Very cozy! Very exciting for you, I’m sure.” She could see the transformation gathering pace now. His teeth were sharpening. His eyes were losing focus. Soon, they’d be pools of fire. She had to delay that moment as long as she could. She had to keep him talking. Even if it was hard stringing together a coherent sentence when the pain was cutting into her deeper and deeper.

“What do you mean?” she asked at last.

“I just think it’s kinda creepy, the way you like to hang around guys like us. It’s like you’re flirting with the dark side or something. But we’re not animals in a petting zoo. You can’t just come and visit us when you like. There are consequences to hanging out with us
lost boys
.”

He leaned in close and she could feel his hot breath on her. “Why are you fighting this? You know deep down that you want it just as much as I do — maybe more! The Blind Boy of Connemara won’t give it to you, but I will. It’s what you’ve been wondering about, isn’t it? All that time on the ship and now here. You’ve watched Lorcan with Shanti. And you want to know for yourself — what’s it like to share?”

“No,” she said. “That’s not what I want. You’ve got it all wrong.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Grace. I think ol’ Johnny’s right on the money this time.”

Keeping hold of the lasso in one hand, he raised his other hand to her neck. It clamped her as tightly as the rope. He let go of the lariat and reached out for the collar of her shirt.

“No!” she cried as she heard the material tear, but the pressure of his hand on her neck reduced her cry to a dull croak.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps.

“What’s going on here?”

“Lorcan!” Grace rasped in relief.

“Oh great! Right on cue, it’s good ol’ reliable Lorcan,” sneered Johnny. He still had his hand clamped firmly around her neck.

“Let her go!” Lorcan cried, attempting to prise Johnny’s arm away. But the vaquero was too strong for him.

“Why should I?” Johnny said, his face dark and angry. “So
you
can get a piece of the action?”

“Just let her go!” Lorcan repeated.

But Johnny showed no sign of releasing Grace.

Grace shut her eyes. There was nothing Lorcan could do to save her. Nothing she could do to save herself.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Lorcan lift his hand once more. Why was he even bothering? He knew that Johnny was far stronger.

But then Grace noticed something strange. Lorcan’s Claddagh ring was glowing deep red as if it were heating up like a branding iron. The skull shape on it seemed to grow. No, it wasn’t
seeming
to . . . it was
actually
growing! She watched as the head grew large and started moving — the small mouth grinding its teeth. Now Lorcan brought his hand up close to Johnny’s neck and the glowing head came into contact with the flesh just beneath Johnny’s ear. The skull’s mouth opened and two fangs extended, like long, burning needles.

Johnny hadn’t seen any of this. He was too lost in his hunger. He didn’t notice until the glowing needles were embedded deep in his neck. Then he froze, his hands suddenly paralyzed, his face racked with pain.

Lorcan took advantage of the moment to pull Johnny away from Grace. This time, the vaquero put up no resistance. But Lorcan was merciful. The needle-like fangs retracted and he withdrew the ring.

While Johnny was still out of action, Lorcan busied himself loosening the rope around Grace’s arms.

“Wow!” she said. “I never knew it could do that. All that time I had the ring around my neck . . .”

Lorcan shrugged. “I’ve told you before, Grace. I’ve a few surprises up my sleeve yet.” As he pulled the rope away, he saw the extent of her bruises and winced.

“Is it bad?” she said. “I hardly dare look.”

“It’s pretty bad, I’m afraid. You’re going to need pots of that elder salve.”

Johnny, meanwhile, had staggered to his feet. “Those wounds will heal,” he said. “They’re only surface cuts.” He drew himself up to his full height. “They’re nowhere near as deep as the hurts you’ve inflicted on her.”

“What are you talking about?” Lorcan said. “I’ve never hurt Grace. Not once.”

“Oh, really?” said Johnny, with a smile. “Because that’s not the way she tells it.”

“Grace?” Lorcan looked at her in horror. She couldn’t hold his eyes. She dropped her head. How could she have made the mistake of confiding her deepest feelings to Johnny? But he’d been a different Johnny then.

And now it was Lorcan who was raging. “What are you talking about? I never hurt Grace. Grace, tell him —”

“Oh, stop whining,” Johnny said, his hunger momentarily abated after Lorcan’s attack. “It’s time for you to grow up and be a man. It’s time you made up your mind about Grace. It’s like you’re hot one minute, cold the next. She doesn’t know where she stands with you. None of us do.”

“My feelings for Grace . . .” Lorcan began. Grace was surprised that he’d risen to the bait. Suddenly, she felt her heart racing in an entirely new way as they both waited for him to continue. “My feelings for Grace are . . . complicated.”

“Complicated!” Johnny laughed. “
Complicated?
That’s as lame as we might have expected from you.”

On this point, Grace was inclined to agree with him, though it utterly enraged her to do so.

Johnny wasn’t finished with Lorcan yet. “Look at the facts, amigo. She came all this way up the mountain to help you. She’s been living among vampires for months now. Why, the way
she
tells it, she even offered to be your donor. And how do you repay her? You tell her that it’s all been a big mistake and she should go back to her regular little life and forget you!”

“No,” Lorcan said, his eyes darting from Johnny to Grace. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then tell us,” Johnny continued, clearly enjoying himself. “You tell us how it is. And while you’re at it, tell us what you want from Grace. Because if you really
do
want her, I’ll step aside. I’ll concede that the best vampire won. But if not, I’ll take her. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. Someday real soon.”

“I’m not a prize!” Grace said angrily.

“No,” Lorcan said. “No, you’re not. Don’t listen to him, Grace. It’s the blood hunger talking.”

“At least I
have
some hunger,” Johnny said. “At least I got some fire left in my belly!” He turned to Grace. “You know what they call it when a vampire feeds from a mortal?” She looked blankly back at him. “No? They call it a vampire kiss. I think you got a head full of dreams about loverboy over there, but I’ll tell you something for nothing, that’s the only kind of kiss he’ll ever give you. The only difference between him and me is that I’m being honest with you.”

Grace looked at Lorcan, her heart suddenly weighed down with emotion. Could it be true? Was that all their relationship could be? Was that what he’d been trying to tell her himself, the struggle he’d been going through? Simply that he saw her as a potential donor — nothing more?

“No,” Lorcan said. “No, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you before, my feelings for Grace are —”

“Yeah, yeah, we know —
complicated
!”

Suddenly Lorcan pulled Grace toward him. He held her tightly in his embrace and looked into her eyes. The pressure on her bruised arms was painful but she didn’t care. She’d waited a long time for this moment.

“I do have feelings for you, Grace,” he said. “The very strongest of feelings. But I’m not going to be forced into a corner like this. We need to talk — and soon — but we’re
not
going to talk about this while he’s here. What I have to tell you is too important. Is that good enough for you?”

“Yes!” She nodded, tears of pain and relief streaming down her face. “Yes!”

“Good!” With that, Lorcan leaned forward to enfold her in his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead. She felt his cool lips brush her skin. It sent shivers coursing through her entire body.

“Wow!” Johnny laughed. “A kiss on the head! You really are a passion wagon!”

“What on earth’s going on here?”

They turned and saw Olivier striding toward them, kicking the discarded lariat. He had seen Grace’s wounds too. He rushed over and lifted her arm with a gasp.

“It’s Johnny,” Grace said. “Someone mixed blood with his berry tea. He’s gone psycho on us.”

Olivier let go of Grace’s arm, grabbed Johnny and held his arms behind his back. “It’s okay,” said Johnny. “It’s okay, amigo. I’ll play nice.” Olivier let him go but kept his eyes firmly upon him, alert to further trouble.

“How could this have happened?” Lorcan asked.

“I don’t know,” Olivier said with a frown. “But we don’t have time to discuss this now. Mosh Zu commands all vampires to join him in the Assembly Hall immediately!”

“Oh, really?” said Johnny. “What’s up? Did he have a sudden overwhelming urge for group therapy?”

“Shut up!” Olivier said.

Johnny shrugged. “All right then. Come on, gang, let’s all hightail it to the Assembly Hall!”

Olivier shook his head. “Not you, Grace. You need to go back to your chamber and lock the door.”

“No way!” Grace said defiantly.

“These are Mosh Zu’s express orders,” Olivier said.

“Grace stays with me,” said Lorcan, gripping her hand firmly.

“All right,” sighed Olivier. “I haven’t got the time or patience to argue with you. But Grace, you’re putting yourself in the danger zone this time.”

“Of course she is!” said Johnny. “Don’t you know that there’s no place Grace would rather be?”

51

THE JOURNEY ON

“You are happy with my work?” Master Yin asked as he lifted a swathe of cloth and revealed the gleaming swords beneath.

Connor was taken aback by the modesty of the master craftsman. Cheng Li had said he was the most gifted swordsmith of his generation and yet he watched as nervously as an apprentice as she took one of the swords from its case and held it up in the air. When she declared, “It’s perfect!” the old man beamed from ear to ear.

Cheng Li laid the sword back down in the case. Master Yin covered it again with the cloth, as gently as if he were drawing a blanket over a baby in its crib. “Seventy swords and seventy daggers, as you requested,” he said, placing the wooden lid on top.

“Excellent,” said Cheng Li. “Connor, start taking these down to the pier while I sort out Master Yin’s payment.”

“Sure.” Connor grabbed the first box of swords.

“I’ll help you,” said Bo Yin, grabbing the second box and following him out of the room.

When they were gone, Cheng Li turned to Master Yin. “Well?” she said. “What do you think?”

Master Yin smiled. “I think you are right,” he said. “There
is
something about him. The way he handled the sword. I’ve only seen it very few times before. The last time, it was you.”

Cheng Li smiled at his compliment, but then her smile faded.

“Something is troubling you,” Master Yin said.

Cheng Li nodded. “I’m sure of Connor’s talent. But he worries me. He is vulnerable. He just killed for the first time and it’s left him in turmoil. I really think he might choose to leave piracy behind.”

“Easier said than done.” Master Yin nodded. “You do not choose to become a pirate. Piracy claims you. Just like it claimed Chang Po and the great Cheng I Sao.” He sighed. “The first kill is a deep shock for anyone. It should be. To be a great pirate, you must appreciate the value of life and death. You do not want a killing machine on your crew.”

“No,” she said. “No, you’re right, of course you are.”

There was the sound of laughter as Connor and Bo Yin returned to the chamber to collect another two boxes. They reined in their giggles as if Cheng Li and Master Yin were teachers.

After they had gone, Cheng Li smiled at the swordsmith. “There might be more than one pirate prodigy in this house today.”

Master Yin shook his head. “We will not talk of this.”

But Cheng Li proceeded, undeterred. “You know how Bo’s face lights up at the mere mention of the ocean. She’s strong and smart. And I’ve seen her handle swords before.”

“Please,” said the old swordsmith. “Please don’t say such things.”

“I don’t want to upset you,” said Cheng Li. “But think about your own words.
You do not choose to become a pirate. Piracy claims you.
And I think it’s claiming . . .”

“Bo Yin,” her father called through the door.

“Yes, Pop!”

“Be careful with those boxes!” he called down. “You’re not transporting fruit and vegetables!”

“Yes, Pop,” she called back again.

Seeing his expression, Cheng Li decided not to push him further. But she had seen a certain look in the young girl’s eyes. She recognized the fire there. You didn’t have to be a seer to know how this was going to play out. Looking back at the swordsmith as he busied himself with another case, she realized that he knew it, too. It was only a question of time.

“Here,” he said, opening up a smaller case than the others. “Here is the special commission you requested.” He opened the case and revealed the single sword and dagger, lying side by side.

Cheng Li leaned forward and let her finger trace the length of the sword. “Superb,” she said. “Exactly what I was hoping for.”

“Good, good,” the swordsmith said, closing the case again and setting it on top of the others for collection.

When the sloop was loaded with all the sword cases, Connor and Cheng Li taxied back to the pontoon to bid farewell to the swordsmith and his daughter. Bo Yin led Master Yin down the wooden stairs to meet them on the dockside.

“Thank you so much,” Cheng Li said to the swordsmith.

“Thank
you
,” said Master Yin. “And remember my advice.”

Cheng Li nodded. “I shall. And remember mine.” She turned to Bo Yin. “Thanks for all your assistance, Bo Yin.”

Bo Yin nodded. “It was good to see you again, Cheng Li. And you, too, Connor.”

He grinned and nodded to her.

“Take good care of your father,” Cheng Li said.

“We shall take care of one another,” Master Yin said, drawing his daughter protectively toward him. “Just as we always do.”

“It was a great pleasure to meet you, sir,” Connor said, bowing before him.

“And you,” said the swordsmith. “Enjoy your new weapons. Oops!” He clamped his hand over his mouth.

Connor turned and found Cheng Li shaking her head. “Come on,” she said to Connor. “Time we were setting sail.”

She jumped down into the taxi boat. He followed and they journeyed back across the harbor. Soon, they had climbed from the smaller boat back onto the Academy sloop and were raising anchor, bound for the return journey. As Connor prepared the boat for departure, he saw Master Yin climbing back up to his house. But Bo Yin was standing on the harbor, still watching. He waved to her, but she didn’t seem to notice him. She seemed mesmerized.

“Bo Yin wants to be a pirate, doesn’t she?” he said to Cheng Li.

Cheng Li nodded, pausing in her tasks. “There’s an old saying. Perhaps you have heard it? The saying asks, how can you tell a true pirate?”

“And what’s the answer?” Connor asked.

“Because when you look in their eyes all you see is the ocean.” Cheng Li nodded. “Well, I’ve looked into Bo Yin’s eyes and I see a whole lot of ocean.”

The sail back was similar to the journey out. They talked little during the day, each focused once more on their own thoughts. Proper conversation was again delayed until dinner, over which Connor had many questions about Master Yin, his workshop, and his pretty and spirited daughter.

“Now,
I
have a question for
you
,” Cheng Li said. “Something happened when you lifted Chang Po’s sword. It was as if you had left us for a time and gone somewhere else entirely.”

Connor nodded, putting down a chicken bone. “I had a vision,” he said. “At first, I was on Chang Po’s ship, or at least I thought I was. Then I found myself on the deck of my own ship . . .”

“Your
own
ship?”

“It was a vision of the future, I guess,” he said. “People were calling me Captain Tempest.”

“How did it feel?”

“It felt good,” he said. “But it isn’t the first time I’ve seen my future.”

“No?” Her eyes compelled him to continue.

“No, it happened to me before at Pirate Academy. Twice. The first time was in the Rotunda, standing under all the captains’ swords. Then it happened again, during one of Commodore Kuo’s lectures.”

“And, tell me, is it always the same vision?”

Connor shook his head. “No, the vision I had at Master Yin’s was happy. It was a time of celebration. In the ones I had at Pirate Academy, I was wounded, bleeding. In fact, I think I foresaw my own death.”

Cheng Li was wide-eyed. “You think you’ve seen your own death as a pirate captain?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s another reason why I think I should leave this world behind.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“Connor, do you want my advice?”

“Of course.”

“These visions, as vivid as they are, may not be actual flashes of your future. Perhaps they are more like glimpses into
choices
.”

“You mean that it’s all about the
kind
of pirate I become? Like you said before?”

She nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” he said. “I was thinking about it a lot when we were at Master Yin’s. I think I
am
ready to go back to being a pirate. But not on Molucco Wrathe’s ship.” He looked up, his eyes bright once more. “I want to join
your
crew.”

“I see.” Cheng Li nodded. As usual, her face gave away little emotion.

“I thought you’d be pleased,” Connor said.

“I’m flattered, of course,” Cheng Li said. “But things are more complicated than you perceive or perhaps care to acknowledge.” She fixed him in the eye. “You are not yet a free man, Connor. You are still bound to Captain Wrathe’s articles.”

“He’d let me go,” Connor said. “I know he would. He’d understand I need a fresh start.”

Cheng Li shook her head. “He’d think I poached you from under his nose. Let’s not beat around the bush, Connor. We all know there’s no love lost between me and Molucco Wrathe.”

“Are you saying you won’t consider me for your crew? For your deputy?”

“My deputy?” she smiled. “I see the old Connor Tempest is back and no mistake.”

“No,” he said firmly. “This is the new Connor Tempest talking. Older, wiser . . .”

“Prove it to me,” she said. “Go back and make your peace with Molucco. Whatever I think about him as a captain, he’s been good to you. You should honor that. Go and talk to him, tell him how you feel. If he agrees to release you from his articles, then I’ll be pleased to have you on my crew.”

They arrived back at the Academy under cover of darkness. In the Academy harbor was a galleon. Lit by the moon, it shone majestically.

“So it’s here already,” Cheng Li said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

“Is that our new ship?” Connor asked.

“
My
new ship,” Cheng Li said with a smile. “It’s my ship. And it’s time you set sail for
The Diablo
and had your little talk with Molucco.”

“Yes,” he said, his heart once more heavy at the thought. He began gathering his things together and getting ready to run down to the safety boat, still in its hiding place.

“Wait!” Cheng Li said. “I have something for you.”

She disappeared into the hold and returned carrying a small case. She passed it to Connor. He looked at her questioningly, though he was already pretty sure what was inside. “Can I open it?” he asked. She nodded.

As he flipped back the twin locks and opened the case, his face was bathed in light. Lying there, looking up at him, were two new weapons — a rapier and, alongside it, a dagger.

“You needed a new sword, and I thought it was about time you learned to fight with two weapons,” Cheng Li said.

“They’re beautiful!” Connor exclaimed. He reached in and lifted the sword. Immediately, he felt the same sense of connection he had with Chang Po’s sword.

“Is it a good fit?” Cheng Li asked.

“Oh, yes,” he said nodding. As he turned it in his hand, he noticed that there was an inscription on the hilt, just as there had been on Chang Po’s sword. “What’s this?”

“Read it,” she said.

“
To Connor Tempest, a pirate of extraordinary promise. Given at the beginning of an outstanding career. From Cheng Li
.”

Connor was overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” he said, forgetting about decorum and hugging her. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome,” Cheng Li said, clearly a little thrown by this display of emotion.

“And thank you for your advice, too,” he said, returning the sword to its case.

“I rescued you from dark waters once before, remember?” She mused. “In fact, I seem to be making a habit of it, don’t I?”