The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier Trilogy (Books 1, 2, 3) (41 page)

I stood in the passageway, assessing the awful
sentiment with which my enduring humanity left me. You’re a girl no more, I
thought, but when you look at Vincent, when you see his face, when you hear his
voice, you are still his girl. My feelings for my beloved crush me. Beyond vapid
desire, my love for him consumes me. Because of this, I need him in ways I
could never need anyone. He’s not simply a powerful and ancient and perfect
monster whose incredible kindness has given me new life, but he’s also my
spirit’s vessel. I live inside him, as the blood I gave in exchange for my
salvation has rooted me within him. Traces of each other are bound up in us,
locked forever, never wanting out. Vincent is me, I am Vincent.

***

21 December.
— The Empress insists
her progeny prove herself in her first ritual battle. The novice is far from
ready for such a challenge, but the arrangements have been made. Peter told me
as much when he came to see me.

“Mindiss paid her a visit,” he said. “She threatened
her and when I spoke to Youlan, she confirmed it. Empress Cixi believes she
alone is suited for Xing Fu’s line—I think she wants to get rid of the
novice.”

“She did not choose to make Evelina; my girl forced
her hand,” I said.

“How so?” Peter asked.

I dismissed his question since it dug up a past gone
forever, never to be returned. Whatever deal the Empress and I had no longer
stands. “I will destroy her,” I said.

“If you defeat Mindiss for Evelina, there will be
another, and another—you know how this goes,” he said. “If the Empress
wants her progeny to fail, she’ll stop at nothing.”

I had meant I would destroy the Empress, but Peter
did not need to know that. “She will not do it herself,” I said. “The venom
ties keep her from such an act.”

“What do you mean?”

He did not understand because he had never shared
Galla’s gift. He never made a vampire.

“We cannot destroy our own—the preservation is
innate,” I said. “But if one shares venom for the wrong reasons, without
careful deliberation and a certain amount of affection for their novice, this
is the result. It is the Empress, however, who is unfit to be a maker since
Evelina is most worthy. What does Youlan think of the progeny?”

“I cannot read her,” he said.

“Can you hear the Empress?”

“She is difficult to get close to,” he said. “She
must invite me in since—I can’t read her without—”

“I know,” I said. “Huitzilli is loyal, though.”

“One doesn’t need to see into his mind to see his
true colors,” Peter said. “The Hummingbird dotes on Evelina.”

“Go to her,” I said. “Explain the challenge. Urge
her to be ready. Seek out Huitzilli and make her ready. She must have talons
before she heads into the ring.”

He assured me I could count on him, and I do. Peter
is loyal, though he is unaware that Galla binds him to me. She is one of mine.
But even still, I can see his affection for Evelina; his allegiance to her is
unparalleled, and he will protect her, as Galla protects him, and perhaps his
religious superstition—his god—will intervene as well. I must rely
on anything I can now, take every ally as they come. Cixi’s ship brims with
danger, and we cannot make a safe escape just yet.

Later
— I am filled with
questions. I finally visited the donor’s den, and am confused by what I
experienced. Let me start at the beginning of my discoveries, however. I had
wanted to speak with Youlan to see if I could get anything out of her. She has
been a ghost since Evelina’s awakening, and her loyalty to the Empress is
unshakable. Peter says she steers clear of the progeny and I wonder if she is
not jealous. If so, she may be a contender as well. She was not easy to find;
her frequency is muted. I recall its sounding like a stilted heartbeat, but
perhaps I had been mistaken then and merely heard her actual heart beat. I went
to the blood den for which I had initially boarded the ship. She was there,
ushering out a new brood of desperate vampires. The blood trade appeared to be
going strong and I thought I would eventually have to visit the dens below. I
wanted to see just how many humans Cixi had snatched for her floating cesspool.

“You need not come here to feed,” she said.

“I am here to see you,” I said.

“Why?”

I reassessed my plan to charm her since my appeal
would be lost on the likes of her. “Who is your maker?” I asked.

She stuck her hands in the sleeves of her ruqun, and
bowed her head before turning to walk away from me. No stickler for manners,
Youlan did not care if she offended me. Unlike the others onboard, she did not
hold great respect for the ancient one. I stopped her, placing my hand on her
shoulder and pulling her back to face me. She looked down at the deck, avoiding
my gaze, so I put my hand under her chin and led her face up to mine. She did
not shrink from my gesture, but returned my cold stare. She wore green
contacts, hiding the true color of her eyes. With my hand on her shoulder, I
confirmed it was only her heartbeat. She had obviously mastered how to
camouflage her signal.

“What do you want?” She asked.

“I want to know the name of your maker,” I said.

“The Empress is my maker,” she said.

“Then you have been with her a long while?”

She refused to answer, but for the Empress to have
made Evelina and Youlan within a century and a half of each other, Youlan had
to have been made shortly after Cixi’s awakening, which was possible.

“Then you are also a progeny of Xing Fu,” I said.

She stared at me with fresh vehemence since I had
locked her in place, disabling her. A mercurial gift with a will of its own, I
am able to block neurotransmitters with sound waves, preventing a
vampire’s—or human’s—mobility.

“I didn’t say I was from Xing Fu’s venomline,” she
said.

She played games but the discomfort was getting the
better of her. The skin at the corners of her eyes wrinkled, as she struggled
to move her muscles.

“Do not bother,” I said. “Only I can set you free.”

“What do you want?”

I smiled, not having completely abandoned my attempt
to charm her. “I want to know why the Empress is putting Evelina in the ring
with the Fangool.”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“I think you do,” I said. “I think you know more
about what goes on here than anyone—even the Empress.”

She scoffed. “That’s ridiculous,” she said. “I obey
orders, that is all.”

“Your maker gives you orders, then?” I asked. I
needled her, wanting to break her will if she had one. “Are you not free? Or
are you a servant like the donors on this ship?”

“I am nothing like to the donors on this ship,” she
said. “I am superior—I feed on them, they do not feed on me.” My inquiry
rattled her, and I thought perhaps she had been brainwashed into thinking she
was a slave too.

“What do you think of the Empress’s progeny?”

She smiled a wide toothy grin; her subtle fangs had
dropped when I had reached for her, or perhaps they had been down the entire
time.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “She’s inferior.”

“How so?”

“She’s vestigial,” she said.

I shook my head, wondering what such a statement
could mean when speaking about a new vampire. Evelina was far from rudimentary,
and was in fact a prodigy. “She is perfect,” I said.

She sneered at me and scoffed again. “You’ll see,”
she said. “My maker will show you.”

“Show me what?”

She became reticent, like a machine unplugged. I
repeated my question but even her gaze had dropped to the deck, her lids half
closed. I shook her, but she did not respond. When I released her from my hold,
she turned and bolted through the door at the end of the passageway. I am wont
to disregard such elusive behavior but felt the need to record it still, though
I got nothing out of her. I doubt any of it was truth since she must be from
Xing Fu’s venomline if the Empress is her maker. But if she were, I would know
it.

Once she had left me, I wandered the passageways
until I reached the weather deck. I heard Evelina’s signal, as she worked with
her trainer out beneath the moonlight. I was careful not to distract her, but also
desperate to see her progress. I knew if he had taken her up, he had forced her
into the water. Dealing with her weight, gravity’s heavy toll on our bodies,
was significant to her ability in the ring. She had failed to evade the
Empress’s villainous attack because of it, and I regret not setting out to
train her immediately. I hunger for the day when I will avenge her maker’s
torment. Cixi will pay for her treachery.

The cool night air greeted me with the delicious
embrace I have counted on for thousands of years. I am more fit for night than
day—the darkness is my greatest ally. I climbed the radio tower and
listened to the sparrow’s hum. She was about midway up from the bottom of the
seabed, still struggling to break the surface. Huitzilli and Peter watched from
the deck, but I was ready to pull her up if she lost her race with the sun. I
could smell dawn’s rise, as the fish in the bay skittered about avoiding their
hunger. I closed my eyes, sending her my energy, though I cannot know if she
felt me. She would be so engrossed in lifting her marble slab through the water
that it would take all of her concentration. It was not easy to watch her
suffer. I had never done it with you, Byron. You had never needed to learn to
fight, we lived in an easier world then. Besides, I could take care of you.

I was relieved when she finally broke the surface,
and wanting to reward her struggle, I alone greeted her when she reached
topside, telling the others I would see to her feeding. The sun barely kissed
the water’s surface and I could tell she felt the sting of its rays, though she
suffered the burn in silence.

“Good, Evelina,” I said. I was so proud of her
effort, I gushed—inwardly, of course. I ushered her inside, telling her
she needed to feed. I had already arranged for the redhead to meet us at her
compartment, and though it pained me to leave her, I had no choice. She could
not know it, but she spoke into my mind, begging me to stay. It was difficult
to pull myself away, especially when I saw her with our donor, but I would be
strong for the both of us.

I went to the vampire’s den. The line was short, but
I was ushered to the front when the hulking samurai guarding the entrance
recognized me and told me Peter awaited me inside. I entered the semi-lush
quarters, its dim ambiance, romantic lighting, and intoxicating fragrance
forcing any vampire into submission. The smell of the mixed blood was potent. I
was surprised the vampires could contain themselves with a temptation of such
magnitude. Human bodies were strewn about, the scene like an opium den where
addicts went to while away the hours in a Baudelairean landscape. Peter found
me, and directed me to sit with the donor he had chosen. “This is Hal,” he
said. “He’s fed Evelina several times. I thought you might like to try him.”

The youngish man had just been feeding another, his
blood still dripping from his open clavicle. He revealed the clean side of his
neck, and offered it to me. I would have refused had he not fed my Evelina. I
was tempted to taste what she had tasted. I reached for his arm, pulling it up
and biting into the vein on its underside. His blood tasted nothing like I
expected, but it was familiar. Suddenly the sauce in my mouth threw me back in
time and brought me to the shore of the Ligurian Sea, in the alcove on the
beach with the three runaways I had brought to the hill town. Hal’s blood
tasted like that of the Americans, and I stopped as soon as I realized it was
tainted.

“You’ve barely had a swig,” Peter said. “Ah, he
doesn’t suit you. There are plenty to choose from. I’ve enjoyed the slim girl
in the corner over there more than once.”

“I am fine,” I said. “I have a donor awaiting me in
my cabin.”

Peter gave me a strange look but I did not reveal my
suspicion.

I cannot share what I have learned with any of them,
for it could cause a mutiny that puts the child at risk. I do not know for
certain, and I wish you were here with me, Byron, to confirm my belief, but I
think these donors are drugged, for they seem strangely unhuman. I fear they may
harm the novice and so I must keep my Evelina from drinking the blood in the
den. The redhead has to be her only source, and I must convince her of this
without raising suspicion. I cannot even trust Peter with this. It may put him
off too much. I have to discover a way of distinguishing the real from the
others—perhaps the redhead knows.

Later Still
— Once she had
recovered from feeding Evelina, I had the redhead in to feed me. She is called
Muriel, something she decided to tell me before she left me high and satisfied.
Tasting her after the donor in the den has confirmed it for me. She is unlike
them.

“Why are the others different?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” She played coy until I seduced
her and she told me what I wanted to know. “The captain knows,” she said. “He
is the one to speak to about the others.”

Apparently Captain Jem is human, though he can be a
bit of a pig, according to Muriel. She said he takes liberties with a few of
the female donors.

“The younger ones,” she said. “But since the child
has come to stay with us, he keeps away.”

“The captain shares your wing?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “He stays in separate quarters, near
the Empress.” Muriel said he takes to the bottle and has probably been drunk
more than sober since they docked.

“Is there anything else I should know about this
captain?” I asked, still dangling her from a string. She was easy to induce.