Vampirates 6: Immortal War (43 page)

There was a blur as the cutlery spun faster and faster. Then it began to slow and Lorcan saw that above their heads were no longer knives and forks but swords. How on earth had she done it? And, of more immediate concern, how were they going to claim the weapons without being sliced in two in the process?

His answer came as the movement above slowed and the swords hovered in the air, hilts facing down. Along the banqueting table there were now two lines of swords, waiting to be claimed. It was nothing short of a miracle.

“Take your swords,” Lorcan cried, gazing in wonder and love at Grace, whose eyes remained closed as she held the swords in position.

Each Nocturnal and donor reached above his or her head and took hold of a solid steel sword, which Grace had somehow delivered to them.

“And now,” Obsidian cried, leading the charge out of the hall, “we fight!”

It could have been chaos as the crew of Nocturnals and donors streamed out of the sole doorway, but somehow it wasn’t. The long nights, and days, of training had paid off. Everyone knew what was at stake and everyone wanted to play his or her part in securing victory.

Lorcan watched as Grace opened her eyes at last. She looked momentarily disoriented, then smiled to see the lines of Nocturnals and donors armed with their gleaming weaponry.

“I don’t know how you did that, Grace,” he said, “but wow!” He reached for her hand. “Come on!”

“Where are we going?” she asked as they ran out into the corridor. Lorcan realized that, alone among the crew, Grace had not been trained in the emergency drills. It was somewhat ironic, given that she was the most powerful of them all. Still, he didn’t want to take any chances.

“I’m going out on deck,” Lorcan said. “And you’re going back to your cabin to wait this out.”

He thought she might argue but was grateful that she didn’t. Hand in hand, they ran along the corridor after their comrades. Above them, they could hear steel clashing against steel. There could be no doubt. The fight was under way.

As they came to her cabin, Grace pushed open the door and pulled him inside.

“Grace, I need to go!” Lorcan said, as the door shut behind them.

“You need to be strong,” she said, drawing back her sleeve and offering her wrist to him. There was no doubting her intention. He could see the veins pulsating beneath her skin.

“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head as his heart beat wildly.

“You must,” she said. “The Vampirates have been clever, arriving here just when the Nocturnals are at their lowest ebb. You need blood now if you’re to put up a proper fight. And, make no mistake, tonight you must put up a proper fight.”

Lorcan held her hand in his but shook his head once more. “I’ll find Oskar,” he said. “I’ll drink from him.”

Grace shook her head. “There’s no time,” she said. “Let me do this one thing for you.”

Lorcan’s eyes met hers. It was something he used to dream of, but not like this. But, if not now, then when?

“All right,” he said. “But only a drop.”

Nodding, she lifted her wrist to his lips and waited for his fangs to puncture her flesh.

Lorcan watched in awe as the wound began to heal in front of his eyes. He looked up at Grace. Her face was beatific.

“You’re wonderful,” he said, smiling. “I hope you know that.”

“You’re pretty wonderful, yourself,” she said.

“There’s so much I want to say to you, Grace. I thought
we were assured of spending eternity together, but now I see how much time I’ve wasted.”

Grace smiled reassuringly at him and shook her head. “We didn’t waste a second,” she said, her eyes bright. “And now you must go and win this war.”

“All right,” he said. “And you’ll stay here and wait for me?”

Once more, he expected her to protest, but she nodded and lifted her hand to stroke his hair. He leaned forward and kissed her. It was a brief, urgent kiss. As their lips parted, Lorcan stood there looking at Grace, aware that the clock was ticking and he had to leave her. Despite her words of reassurance, he was conscious of the very real possibility that they had shared their last kiss. He couldn’t think this way. Head down, he turned and reached for the door.

“Wait!” she called out to him.

“I can’t!” He wanted to, more than anything, but the battle was calling him. He had no choice but to answer its call.

“What should
I
do?” she asked.

“Stay here and keep safe!” he said. “And do everything in your power to ensure we’re victorious.”

“Everything?” she said, her eyes meeting his across the cabin. He thought he understood what she was asking.

He nodded. “Everything,” he repeated then turned and began to run up to the deck.

Lorcan charged up to the deck, feeling boosted physically and mentally by the shot of blood Grace had given him. Though he was accustomed to the fresh influx of energy that followed blood-taking, this was far more intense. He wondered whether, as a dhampir, Grace’s blood was more potent than Oskar’s, or whether the power stemmed from the electrifying intimacy of sharing her blood for the first time. These thoughts faded the moment he set foot on the upper deck. In their place came panic, fear, and dismay. There was no question that the Nocturnals were outnumbered. Worse still, he alone of the crew had benefited from a shot of blood. The others were at their weakest and it showed in their lackluster efforts. He could still see the signs of their intensive combat training, but they might as well have been fighting with blunt weapons. The
Nocturnals were off their game, just when they faced their most critical fight.

In comparison, the donors had thrown themselves into the battle. Lorcan caught sight of Oskar, far across the deck, squaring up to a young-looking female Vampirate. Judging from her extravagant uniform, Lorcan surmised she must be a captain. Her movements were lithe as a serpent and Lorcan found himself uttering a prayer for his donor and hoping he hadn’t overextended himself.

Suddenly a familiar voice boomed in his ear. “Midshipman Furey!”

Lorcan looked up to find Sidorio bearing down upon him, sword drawn. “You’re out of touch,” Lorcan cried, readying his own sword. “I’m a commander now.”

“You?” Sidorio laughed. “Dress it up as much as you like, Furey. We all know that you’re a pacifist. Like your captain and the rest of your crew.”

“Take a look around!” Lorcan cried, as he and Sidorio exchanged blows. “Does this
look
like a ship of pacifists to you?”

Sidorio did not take his eyes away from Lorcan, but this didn’t prevent him from declaring his verdict. “Looks like a ship of losers to me!” They circled each other, their mutual dislike evident in their eyes. “Looks to me like a weakened, dying force,” Sidorio continued. “Why draw this out? Why pretend you can fight? Call over your captain and sound the defeat. You never know—I might take pity on you, for old times’ sake.”

Lorcan shook his head. “We don’t want your pity!” he said.

“And by the way,” Sidorio continued, “while I’ve got you on your own, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now. Keep your bloodless hands off my daughter!” He nodded. “I know you’ve been sniffing around Grace for months now, but she’s out of your league, understand?” He smiled unpleasantly. “From this night forward, she won’t be having anything more to do with you.”

Sidorio was smirking at Lorcan, as he had done many times before. Holding his nerve as firmly as his sword, Lorcan smiled back. He had seen what Sidorio was as yet blissfully unaware of.

Obsidian had heard Sidorio’s rantings and was making his way swiftly across the deck—in his anger, easily dispatching several of Sidorio’s squad en route.

“I suggest we let Grace be the one to decide whom she does and doesn’t want in her life,” Lorcan said, watching Obsidian approach, sword raised.

“A father knows best,” Sidorio said, shaking his head and puffing out his chest smugly as he made a jab at Lorcan.

Lorcan stepped neatly to one side as Obsidian brought his sword up against his rival’s neck. The look of surprise on Sidorio’s face was something to savor.

“Turn around, renegade,” Obsidian commanded. “I will not be cheated of my fight with you.”

Sidorio was quick to recover. “Nor I with you!” he exclaimed, turning to face his ancient foe.

As Obsidian and Sidorio squared up to each other, Lorcan hastened across the deck, taking stock of the overall situation. It was bad.
Really
bad. Many Nocturnals and donors had fallen, and the predominance of serge uniforms proclaimed the full extent of the dominating Vampirate force.

Lorcan caught sight of Oskar once again. His donor was now locked in one-to-one combat with a figure Lorcan recognized as Stukeley, Sidorio’s joint deputy. In the split second it took to assess the situation, Lorcan felt equal parts pride for his donor’s extraordinary bravery and fear for Oskar’s life. Letting out a roar, he charged at Stukeley, causing the Vampirate to turn away from Oskar and defend himself.

“Aha!” Stukeley cried out with pleasure as their swords clashed. “At last, a worthy opponent. Though you might just wait while I finish off this mortal.”

“I’ll finish you first,” Lorcan cried, his sword once more meeting Stukeley’s and leaving his adversary in no doubt as to the threat.

“Go!” Lorcan commanded Oskar. Gratefully, the donor ran off as Lorcan took over from him.

“I’ll give him his due,” Stukeley said. “He fought well for a mere mortal.”

“You were a mortal not so long ago,” Lorcan said.
“Have you conveniently forgotten that, or have you been brainwashed by Sidorio and Lola?”

Stukeley shook his head. “We don’t go in for brainwashing on
our
side, Commander. We leave that up to you and your masked captain.”

“He’s not masked anymore, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Lorcan said gruffly. His blade met Stukeley’s and they parried back across the deck.

“Masked or not,” rasped Stukeley, “he’d better watch out—Sidorio will make mincemeat of him!”

“It’s Sidorio who had better watch out,” Lorcan snarled. “Obsidian is a far more powerful Nocturnal.”

“Pah!” Stukeley spat onto the deck between them. “There’s no such thing as Nocturnals! You’re a
Vampirate
, Furey, no different from Sidorio and me—only you’re the self-hating kind, just like your pathetic excuse for a captain.”

Stukeley made a fresh lunge at Lorcan. He was incredibly fast. Lorcan swerved to his side in the nick of time.

“Very good!” Stukeley nodded approvingly as they held each other’s gaze once more. “You have more fight in you than I’d expected.”

“You have no idea!” Lorcan cried, launching himself at Stukeley once more. “I’ll finish you off and then turn my attentions to your pal Johnny. Where is he, by the way? I can’t see him in the melee.”

“Johnny?” Stukeley shrugged. “His mission is very cut
and dried on this occasion,” he said. “He only has one target in his sights.” He smiled. “I wonder if you can guess who that is?”

There was no need for Stukeley to say the name. When had Johnny’s target been anyone other than Grace? Lorcan felt a terrible ache in his head and a chill race along his spine. He had to dispatch Stukeley and find a way to get to Grace. His eyes darted over Stukeley’s shoulder, looking for Oskar. He had a momentary thought that he could send Oskar to warn her. But where had Oskar gone?

Suddenly Lorcan felt a searing heat coming from his shoulder. Glancing down, he saw that Stukeley’s sword had sliced through his uniform and penetrated his skin.

Stukeley drew back his sword with evident satisfaction. “
She
really is your Achilles’ heel, isn’t she, Furey?”

“No,” Lorcan said, preparing his own attack. “Not my Achilles’ heel. The love of my life. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.”