Vampirates 5: Empire of Night (31 page)

Lola strode over to the driver. "Thank you, Rodrigo," she said. "Wait here for us. You know the drill."

"Yes, ma'am," said the driver, doffing his hat at the captain.

Grace looked back, seeing a number of familiar faces stepping out from the other carriages--Jacqueline, Nathalie, Jessamy, Camille, Leonie, and Holly. There were sixteen of them in all, each beautifully dressed, each of them carrying a chunky black case.

"What
are
those cases?" Grace asked Lola. "Why don't I have one?"

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"Don't fret, dear," Lola said. "You're mainly here in an observational capacity."

"Observing what?" Grace wondered aloud.

Lola didn't answer. She was already at the door, rapping the elaborate brass knocker loudly. There was a brief delay and then the door opened, revealing a brightly lit hallway inside. A smartly dressed valet appeared, and Lola leaned forward to speak to him. As she did so, the pair disappeared from Grace's view. In any case, she was distracted by Leonie and Holly, who had come over to compliment her on her dress and the black heart "tattoo."

"It will be time for you to get a proper one soon," Leonie said.

Lola reappeared on the front steps and clapped her gloved hands briskly. "Come on in, ladies! I'm afraid we'll have to make our own way to the dining room. It seems the valet is indisposed."

Lola stepped inside and the others followed. As Grace entered the hallway, she noticed something lying on the floor. No, not something but
someone
. It was the valet. His face was pale gray, and there was a pool of crimson blood flowing from two piercings on his chest.

"Go ahead, Grace," said Holly, catching her eye. "I'll deal with him." So saying, she crouched down beside the man and snapped open her briefcase. Grace saw her reach inside for some equipment. Was it some kind of medical bag?

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"Come on!" Mimma swept Grace off along the corridor.

It was an impressively long hallway, but Lola seemed to know exactly where she was headed. Fifteen pairs of heels clicked on the marble floor tiles. Grace felt butterflies in her stomach once more as they turned a corner and moved like a Chinese dragon toward a pair of double doors at the end. Lola positioned herself in the center of the doors and adjusted her hat and coat. Jessamy and Camille took hold of a door each. They exchanged a nod with Lola, then pulled them open. Lola strode into the room.

Jessamy and Camille ushered their crewmates in after the captain. Mimma took Grace's hand and led her toward the dining table at the center of the room. An elegantly dressed group of people appeared to be in the closing stages of a very fine dinner party. Grace counted the heads at the table. Twelve. Then she looked around the table at Lola's crewmates, each standing poised with a black case at her side.

The silver-haired man at the far end of the table rose. "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Who are you?"

Lola unpinned her hat. "Colonel Marchmain," she said. "Surely your memory isn't as poor as all that? I'm Lady Lola Lockwood Sidorio, proprietor of the Black Heart Winery. I made an appointment with you regarding our wares. Surely you haven't forgotten?"

Lola noticed that the elderly but well-groomed woman

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at the other end of the table was now shooting daggers at the old colonel. He shook his head. "I don't remember any kind of appointment with a winery," he said, shaking his head.

Lola frowned. "Well, this is a little awkward. As you can see, it's not just a matter of inconvenience to myself. I've brought along the key winery team." Lola gestured around the room at her colleagues. You could have cut the tension in the room with a knife.

"Geoffrey!" exclaimed the woman at the end of the table. "I don't know what's going on here, but please tell this ghastly woman to leave. I will not have my daughter's engagement soiree ruined! Get them out!"

"Leave this to me, Honoria," the Colonel said gruffly. "I have everything under control." He approached Lady Lola, who observed him with cool detachment, hands on hips. "Now look," said the Colonel, "I don't know quite how this confusion has arisen, but I don't recall making an appointment with the Black Heart Winery or any other winery. The fact of the matter is I buy all my vino from Clarke's. Always have." His tone softened. "That said, in light of the fact that you and your colleagues have been inconvenienced, for whatever reason, I would be amenable to setting up a meeting at another juncture to discuss a small order."

As Lola weighed up his words, she slowly peeled off her long gloves. Then she shook her head sharply. "There will be no need for another appointment, Colonel. We're not

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here to
sell
you wine. This is more of a harvesting mission."

The Colonel stared blankly at her. Grace felt her heart racing. Suddenly, she understood what this was all about. How could she have been so slow on the uptake?

Lola snapped her fingers. "Ladies, to work!"

Grace stood out in the hallway. She had felt faint in the dining room watching Lola and her crew go about their business. It had been strange. She wasn't sure it was wholly down to repulsion, either. She had felt an element of hunger, too--and it was no longer a hunger for patisserie or any such conventional foodstuffs.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Holly unplugging her equipment from the corpse of the valet. Holly wiped the nozzle and then zipped it neatly back into the pack she wore around her waist, before turning her attention to the six bottles standing beside her. She screwed a cap onto each bottle in turn and loaded them into her black briefcase. Grace watched in fascinated horror. She remembered her earlier thought that the cases might have contained their picnic--and Lola's words:
"Not far off the mark."

A cry and frantic footsteps drew her attention away from the case. She turned and saw a young woman running toward her. She was bleeding from her thorax and,

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as she ran, blood spattered her pretty tulle dress. "Please!" she cried to Grace, "help me!"

Grace nodded. "Come on!" she said. "I will... I will help you." Holly turned in surprise as Grace took the girl's hand and they ran down the steps and through the open doorway out into the night.

At the fountain in the driveway, the girl stopped for a moment, drawing breath with a sob. "They've all been killed. And worse..."

"It's all right," Grace said, holding the girl steady in her arms. She found herself face-to-face with her. The girl was pretty and not much older than herself. Grace remembered the older woman's words before. She looked at the girl. "Tonight was your engagement party, wasn't it?"

The girl nodded, tears trailing down her neck and mingling with her blood. "It's all over now. Everything's over."

"Yes," Grace said. She found herself looking at the warm blood still budding on the girl's decolletage. Suddenly, all she could focus on was the blood. The girl's words, her tears, were lost to her. All Grace could think about was her own hunger, taking over each of her senses, driving her forward.

Before she knew what she was doing, Grace found herself bending forward, licking the blood. She felt the girl recoil but, instinctively, Grace gripped her tighter, pressing her against the edge of the fountain. Suddenly, her butterflies were gone. So too was that strange feeling of

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hunger. Now Grace knew exactly what she needed.... She leaned forward once more.

Just then, Grace felt a pair of hands pulling at her waist.

"Grace! Let her go!" It was Lola.

Grace clung tightly onto the girl, but Lola's grip won out. As she pulled Grace away, the girl fell, limp, to the gravel below.

Lola looked at Grace and shook her head. "My, my," she said. "You are a little greedy guts, aren't you?" She reached into her pocket and produced a handkerchief, then wiped away the ring of blood from Grace's mouth.

"That's better," Lola said. "Now, you should know that we have a certain way of doing things around here. And that is not it."

Lola's crewmates began exiting the house. They strode over to the waiting carriages, stilettos crunching on the gravel, briefcases in hand.

Lola clicked her fingers. "Camille! Grace has made a start here; could you take over?"

Camille nodded and, snapping open her case, knelt down beside the girl's body.

"Come on, dear," Lola said, leading Grace firmly away. "I think you've had enough excitement for one night, don't you?"

Grace was too dazed to speak. But now Lola smiled. "Don't look embarrassed, my dear. It's wonderful that your hunger has risen. Of course it is! Sid will be just

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thrilled at the news. But I can't have any member of my crew--and certainly not my own stepdaughter--behaving in such an uncouth fashion. It would destroy my reputation."

Grace hung her head, but Lola reached out her hand and lifted her chin. "Come on," she joked. "Back to our carriage before it turns into a pumpkin!"

As they set off, arm in arm, Lola paused. "Did you bring that playing card with you?" she asked.

Grace nodded, reaching into the pocket of her skirt and removing the black Queen of Hearts card, which had been attached to Lola's invitation.

"Perfect!" Lola said, taking the playing card. She turned and threw it toward the dead girl's prone body. The card fluttered like a moth in the night air before landing on the girl's open mouth. Lola squeezed Grace's arm. "It's my calling card," she explained.

Lola led Grace back to the carriage. Mimma and Zofia were already waiting inside, three cases stowed at their feet. Lola ushered Grace up the steps, then turned to the young driver. "Crack the whip, Rodrigo!" she said. "Our business here is done."

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33 WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT GRACE

"They've just started using these new tool belts and cases," Grace said. "Before, they had to bring people back to
The Vagabond
to drain their blood efficiently, but now they have this new portable equipment, which means they can drain and bottle the blood anywhere."

Darcy shuddered. "Oh, Grace. And you saw this happening? How awful!"

"It's okay, Darcy." Grace shook her head. "I didn't stay in the room for long."

Darcy frowned at her friend. "I didn't mean how awful for
you
." Thinking she might have been a little harsh, she added, "Though, of course, I wouldn't have wanted to see such things. It must have been distressing."

Mosh Zu nodded to himself. "So this is how they

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organize their so-called blood hunts. An extremely valuable insight." Turning back to Grace, he asked, "And there were twelve victims, you say--trapped and killed by Lola Lockwood's crew?"

Grace nodded. There was a strange look in her eyes that Darcy found impossible to read. There seemed to be a growing gulf between herself and Grace at each of these nightly conferences, and she didn't know what to do about it.

"Is there something else you want to tell us?" Mosh Zu inquired.

Grace looked agitated, then took a deep breath. "One of them escaped," she said. "A young woman. The dinner was to celebrate her engagement..."

Darcy gasped, bringing her hand to her lips in horror.

"I was out in the corridor," Grace continued, her eyes wide. "The girl ran toward me. Her dress was torn and her flesh was pierced." She paused, a distant look in her eyes.

Darcy turned to Mosh Zu, hoping to catch his attention, but he was fully focused on Grace, waiting for her to continue.

"The girl asked me to help her. I said that of course I would. We ran out of the house. There was a fountain outside. The most beautiful fountain I've ever seen."

"And the girl," Mosh Zu asked. "How was she??"

Grace narrowed her eyes, as if refocusing. "The girl was weak--from the bleeding, perhaps..."

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Or perhaps from seeing all the people she loved massacred on the night of her engagement party
, Darcy thought angrily.

"She was weak," Grace continued. "She leaned against the fountain... to rest."

Becoming silent, she closed her eyes for a time, as if she was journeying back to that place and moment. When she opened her eyes once more, Darcy froze. Grace's beautiful emerald eyes had disappeared. In their place were deep pools of fire. Darcy was no stranger to such sights--her own eyes went through the same transformation when she was hungry for blood--but she was unprepared for the shock of seeing Grace in this state.

"What happened at the fountain?" Mosh Zu pushed her.

Grace looked pained. "The girl was bleeding. She was weak. I couldn't help..." She broke off, then began again. "I couldn't help..." She sighed deeply. Her eyes closed once more.

"You couldn't help
what
?" Mosh Zu probed.

Grace opened her eyes. They were back to normal--greener and brighter than ever, like stones washed in a mountain stream. Darcy almost cried with relief.

Grace looked momentarily disoriented, then continued. "I couldn't help her," she said. "There was nothing I could do. Lola and the others came out of the house. They soon got to work on her."

"The poor girl," Darcy said.

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Mosh Zu rose from his seat and stepped toward Grace. "How has this difficult experience left you feeling?"

Grace shrugged. "Drained, I guess. And tired."

"You should rest," Mosh Zu said. "The night is almost over."

"Where's Lorcan?" Grace asked. "Why didn't he come to see me tonight?"

"We told you when you first arrived," Darcy said. "Don't you remember?"

Grace shook her head, frowning slightly.

"His combat training is demanding so much of his time and energy," Mosh Zu said. "He wasn't able to join us tonight."

Grace frowned. "I tried to visit him before, but I couldn't get through to him. Is he avoiding me?"

Darcy could not contain her irritation. "Of course he's not avoiding you, Grace! We
all
have difficult and demanding roles to play in this mission. Sometimes it's just not possible for us all to be together at the same time."